Bitter Harvest by Kim Knox

Title: Bitter Harvest
Author: Kim Knox
Publisher: Carina Press
Genre: science fiction
Length: 30,000 words


It's 2050, and humans are an endangered species. Lieutenant Robert Sutton has survived the collapse of civilization by luck, his wits, and a chance mutation that makes him immune to the nano-virus that has wiped out millions. Now, his compound of survivors is surrounded by the infected, who are driven by the need to spread the contagion through sex. It is only a matter of time before they attack. So when Sutton is assigned to interrogate a prisoner who claims to have overcome the infection, he immediately suspects a trap...

Nicholas Rider may have survived the virus, but he's a changed man, ruled by his desires. But his need for Sutton is different. Rider craves an end to his overwhelming needs, and Sutton could be the man to do it.

Secure in his belief that he's invulnerable, Sutton can't understand or resist his intense attraction to his prisoner. Will Rider be his downfall-or his savior?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


When I read m/m, I like the men hard. I like my science fiction hard, too. If it’s offered as romance, I like the relationships developed. So I was not very happy with this story, because one out of three isn’t enough.


From the opening scene, where Rider has been captured and bound under the assumption that he’s an infected spy, come to suck what’s left of unchanged humanity into the “hive,” the sexual come-ons are fast and thick. “The infected are always ready to fuck,” because exchange of bodily fluids passes the nano-virus around. An insane AI has created the nanos as a way of subjugating humanity for its own unexplained purposes. Rider is marked as infected but has thrown off the infection, or so he’d have Sutton, his interrogator, believe, although he has the residual need to screw everything standing. Sutton feels the draw but he’s supposed to be immune to the wiles of the infected.

This is one of the few human enclaves left, but the lights are still on, the water’s still running, and the med-techs have enough of a lab inside the Tower of London to be able to run tests. There must be a limit to what they can do, because the humans test-fuck (author’s term) such spies. The humans have fought very hard to survive but perform this sort of suicide mission regularly, which made no sense to me at all. Once Rider convinces everyone he’s really not infected, just a pheromone-shedding,  bragging sex machine, they release him into the general population, and draft him for a suicide defense when the compound is about to be overrun by the infected.

Time spent waiting to die is always best spent having sex, so Rider and Sutton do. This provides the answer to the main problem, although now Sutton is now so drawn to Rider that his previous immunity is gone completely, as is his refractory period. In terms of the plot, this is both a good thing and nearly required.

There was very little consistency in the science fiction aspect; while I don’t need to know why exactly the AI embarked on this experiment, I do think its methods needed to be internally consistent. The nano-viruses behaved like viruses at times, but then behaved like programmable devices at other times, and flipped back and forth as convenient, giving the infected some strange abilities and quirks. Frankly, it all seemed like several s/f buzzwords had been cobbled together to provide an excuse for Rider to talk about everyone he’d had sex with, including one of Sutton’s long term lovers, who was used as a test-fuck. Rider has no compunction about needling Sutton about Annabel or the others, nor about discussing a long line of willing infected partners. (No onscreen or detailed remembering of lady-bits.) Rider actually has very few lines that are not directly discussing sex he’s had or would like to have.

Once the breakthrough regarding the infected has been achieved, it’s straight to “I love you,” for Sutton, which is the more astounding jump. Nothing Rider has done is remotely loveable, and he’s served to expose all the cracks in Sutton’s existing relationship, which is a little on the kinky side but nothing too outrageous in a stressed environment like the human enclave. Sutton is, BTW, still actively engaged in this relationship when Rider enters the enclave. Sutton’s response to having this pointed out is to declare love for the pointer, who can provide mind-blowing sex.

Unfortunately, in terms of romance, there is no relationship development; in terms of science fiction there is no consistency, though the fast pace tends to obscure this. Read strictly as erotica, it’s okay but heavier on the sex talk than the sex acts. I honestly have no idea what group of readers would find this a wholly satisfactory story. 2.5 Marbles

Fairytales Slashed: Volume 3 (anthology)

Fairytales Slashed: Volume 3
Publisher: Less Than Three Press
Genre: GLBT, Fantasy
Length: Word count: 143,000
Authors: Megan Derr, Mara Ismine, A.R. Jarvis, and Remington Ward.

In this third compilation of fairytales, see what happens when people and places are more than they seem...

Rasnake tells the tale of a man returning home after years away, only to find his home in shambles, his Princess missing, and his brother a stranger. It will take the help of his sworn brother, a battle bonded elf, to regain his blood brother and restore the fractured kingdom... Pretty tells the tale of a young man faced with a marriage he cannot bear to go through with, who runs away from home and finds himself stranded in a forest... He Shall Go to the Ball is the tale of a young man whose best chance at escaping his despicable stepfather is by making the most of the fact he teased relentlessly for his feminine beauty... Greenwood tells the story of a man who lost everything defending the man he loved, and who now spends his days as a mysterious figured in a dark hood, leading a band of thieves... and Moth to the Flame is the tale of a man sent on assignment to a castle where he meets and falls in love with a beautiful prince. But the prince later has no memory of their night together, and the young man determines to deduce the mystery and gain back his prince at any cost.

~~~~~~

Rasnake by Megan Derr

Told from the POV of Tallant, the elf and the outsider, we see a kingdom brought to its knees by the weaknesses of its ruler. Tallant’s sworn battle-mate, Milton, is returning home after an absence of years, to find that his younger brother Cecil is doing his best to hold the place together. By necessity, Cecil’s become a much harder man than the dreamy scholar he’d been as a boy. Beset by dragons coming through the crumbling wards, and now with mysterious kidnappings and deaths, the kingdom needs the strange skills and outside viewpoint Milton and Tallant bring home.


The source story wasn’t evident to me, which is fine: the story unfolded beautifully anyway, and the budding interest between Cecil and Tallant did not get in the way of the adventure. Certain words meant to establish setting were more an annoyance than world-building after the second repetition, and certain aspects of the physical setting didn’t make sense.

Pretty by Mara Ismine

While the story was a sweet and cute remix of Beauty and the Beast, and Sri’s problem a very real one, his attraction to Vin seems more of an escape from his problem than real love. Early in the story, Vin doesn’t come across with enough complexity to be a lover as much as a dearly beloved pet, and not just because of his speech difficulties. I wasn’t convinced that Sri really cared for Vin enough to effect the transformation, although what happened afterward certainly made me laugh. Watching Sri (Beast-Vin’s truncation of an umpteen-syllable elf name) twist in the wind once he discovers the change is funny, but jarring, given the attitudes he displayed earlier.

He Shall Go to the Ball by Mara Ismine

The original material leaps out here, but with the charming twist of cross-dressing and a helpful accomplice in Cyn’s sister, who adds another layer of romance in another direction. While we can guess at how they’re going to resolve issues, the story ends very abruptly. It really is a very large jump for the prince to go from kissing someone the prince believes is a girl at the ball, with every evidence of enjoyment, to discovering he’s kissing another man, which is better than fine, without boggling at the deception. This story feels unfinished in several directions.

Greenwood by Remington Ward

This story mixes the source material, magic, a quest, and an old love together with some imagination, but the tone of the story gets very much in the way of the adventure/fairy tale feel. There’s a lot of modern slang, which is very jarring, and a preachy tone in places that really detracts from the pleasure of the read, which is already suffering from repetition. Mix in some zombies, and we have a story that’s trying to ride a lot of trends. Had I not been reading for review, this would have been a DNF.

Moth to the Flame by A.R.Jarvis

This charming mixture of royalty and ninjas was my favorite of the collection. The matrimonial prospects of the heir to the throne are at stake, which plays havoc with the budding romance between the younger prince and the apprentice ninja he somehow captured on many levels. A little bit of magic to go with the famed ninja skills helps Moth uncover the skullduggery that has affected his lover Prince Aodh, and that threatens to take over the kingdom. There’s good balance between the external threats and the romance, and that all the sex scenes were fade to black was perfect for the story. Told with light touches of humor and the addition of some wonderful master ninjas as secondary characters, this story inspires me to find more of this new-to-me author’s work.

***

As with any anthology, some stories will be stronger than others, and what doesn’t charm me may be exactly what another reader is looking for. Unfortunately, the blurb and all stories except Moth to the Flame are plagued with enough proofing errors to intrude into the reading experience, and have content issues that are enough to bounce me out of the story. I’d be delighted to have Ms. Jarvis’ story as a standalone, but the rest could benefit from more authorial and editorial love. 3 marbles

A Picture is Worth...

It's Thursday once again, and who has a little fic (100 to 1000 words) or an excerpt to go with these two? Do they need a study break? If an author wants to put words to them, send it with cover, blurbs, news, and links to CryselleC at gmail dot com. Otherwise we'll just drool.

Snow Day is out!

I posted this horrible stormy picture a few months back, and author Juniper Gray saw all sorts of possibilities in it! She sent us a little taste for Thousand Word Thursday,  but Jim and Johnny got a much larger story from that blizzardy walk home. Torquere Press just released it, it's called Snow Day.

Snow Day from Juniper Gray

Jim and Johnny have been best friends and neighbors for two years, and although neither knows that the other is gay, they secretly yearn for their relationship to be more than it is. Jim has had a difficult year, and Johnny doesn't want to add to his worries and possibly alienate him by confessing. Jim would like nothing more than to take Johnny in his arms, but is afraid Johnny won't feel the same.

A bitter snow storm helps them both to realize that life is all about taking chances.

Find it here!

The Amethyst Cat Caper by Charlie Cochet

Title: The Amethyst Cat Caper
Author: Charlie Cochet
Publisher: Torquere Press
Genre: Historical, Detective
Cover Artist: Alessia Brio


Two years ago, Remington Trueblood left England and everything he held dear, all for the chance at a new life. Now the successful owner of The Purple Rose Tea House in Manhattan, Remi has come across the perfect addition to his business: a stunning amethyst cat. But Remi's acquired something else with his latest purchase: the attention of the notorious Gentleman Thief!

Detective Stanley Hawk doesn't know the first thing about tea. He's strictly a java kind of guy. What he does know, is crime, and someone's just committed one. As a Pinkerton’s, Hawk always gets his man, and when his investigations lead him straight to Remi, never have truer words been spoken.

Can Remi and Hawk resist each other long enough to figure out who the thief is and what the heck is going on? Or will the Gentleman Thief get his hands on more than just the Amethyst Cat? From a quirky antique shop, to a high-society tea house, The Amethyst Cat Caper is a delightful romp through 1930s New York. Whether you prefer tasty tea or steamy java, grab yourself a cuppa and enjoy!
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Anyone who ever dreamed of slashing Sam Spade would feel right at home with Charlie Cochet’s detective romance. Set in 1934, this novella has the gritty feel of the ‘30s, where a country still mired in the Depression remembers the high life.

A priceless antiquity stolen by the Gentleman Thief ends up in a curiosity shop, taken for a counterfeited gew-gaw and sold to an expatriate Englishman. What looked to be a pretty bauble is suddenly sought after by everyone from Pinkerton’s agents to foreign government inspectors, and hapless purchaser Remington Trueblood is on the run. The Gentleman Thief wants his prize back, and if he can steal a little more in the bargain, he’d take it.

Detective Stanley Hawk, the Pinkerton agent, finds himself falling for Remi in the course of protecting him and the amethyst statue, and Remi’s surprising himself by behaving so seductively toward the man. What follows is a head-spinningly rapid bonding, fast even considering the fast-forward effects of danger.

Hawk is the more complicated character of the two: hints of his past crop up to tease us with wondering what his story is and how he came to be part of a private law enforcement agency. He’s at peace with his sexuality, guarding himself for safety’s sake more than propriety. He’s willing to take what Remi offers, and is surprised only that the offer includes his heart.

Remi’s story is more conventional, a break with his family for being unable to satisfy a cold father’s unrealistic expectations. He’s come to New York to seek his fortune, and in only three years, he’s managed to make a name, a place, and a success of himself. This part seemed a little odd, in that he would have begun during some really grim times. He grieves his old life, and especially the loss of his youngest brother, who cannot so much as receive Remi’s letters. Remi has loved before and been burned, making it easy to see how he can blow hot and cold about falling for the detective.

The story has a nice period feeling; the slang has the right flavor for the times. The noire atmosphere, with danger, double-crossing, and love comes across well, though I could have done with fewer endearments of “baby.” A few aspects of Remi’s background didn’t seem quite accurate (did anyone study business at Cambridge in those days? ) but were a minor bobble in the greater story. Even with the extreme speed here, the relationship unfolded with the adventure. The identity of the Gentleman Thief was evident far too early, a mystery is usually improved with a red herring or two, so the mystery then shifted to why and how, rather than who.

This was an engaging read even so, with its look into Dashiell Hammett territory. I was pleased for Hawk and Remi at the story’s end; they’d found a way to be together under society’s very nose. There’s a lovely little touch at the end that the men have no way to appreciate, but that gives the reader the last laugh. An excellent first encounter with Charlie Cochet’s writing. 4 Marbles

Thousand Word Thursday from Kelly Wyre and HJ Raine

Asher Collins raced ahead of Joe, holding an overflowing laundry basket in a precarious grip. Wash day always meant more interesting wardrobe choices than normal for Asher. Today, however, was conservative: a long-sleeved salmon t-shirt and snug, checkered shorts that stopped just above Asher's bony knees. "C'mon, Joe-Joe," Asher trilled, coyly over one narrow shoulder. "We're gonna have to mud-wrestle for machines as it is."

Joseph Smith eyed Asher, hefting the duffle bag with the sheets, towels, detergent and fabric softener. "They have a mud pit at the laundromat?"


"'Course, oh literal one," Asher answered around his gum, waggling dark eyebrows while holding the door with one hip. "How else you think they drum up business?"

"It would certainly create more dirty laundry." Joe knew when he was being had, but he so enjoyed seeing Asher smile that he would play along with anything.

The sign above the door read: "The Steam Room" and on entering, Joe and Asher dove into the humidity and soothing chug-chug-chug of washers and dryers. The clean scent, shining chrome, and bright murals on the walls relaxed Joe.

A brilliantly dressed boy in layered yellow and red wifebeaters and skinny neon green shorts waltzed up, and Asher dropped his basket. The new boy flung brown arms around Asher, and laid a kiss smack on the lips of the love of Joe's life. Joe blinked and smiled in wonder.

"Bitch! Where the hell has yo' ass been?" the strange boy asked, affectionately, it seemed.

"Anywhere it wants to go," Asher retorted cattily, but he turned the two of them to eye Joe, who looked back at them warily.

"Oooh, boyfriend." Black eyebrows went up and down in appreciation. "Forgiven. If that's been in your bed--"

"Bed. Couch. Floor. Chair. Table." With Asher's list, Joe's cheeks heated with a blush.

"-- then I do not blame you for leaving me all high and dry." Very white, straight teeth flashed at Joe, and the boy kissed Asher's cheek without looking away from Joe. "And what does boyfriend, here, do?"

"He's an accountant." Asher said the job title as though Joe were the second coming of Christ, Himself.

"That's right, baby!" The two men bumped fists. "You and your good boys, I swear."

"But see, that's why we're here, Joshua. I was just telling Joe-Joe how economical this place is."

"Seventy-five cents a load where everyplace else is two-fitty," Joshua drawled seriously before openly glancing at Joe's groin. "But we might charge him extra."

"Last night and this morning's was worth twice the highest going rate, at least," Asher confirmed to Joshua's laughter.

Joe put his face into one palm. It was very warm in here. "Uhm... Asher, I'm going to go find some that aren't taken?"

Joshua struck a pose. "Then, baby, you're gonna be busy in a hurry."

"Oh... dear..."

Asher tsked and picked up the abandoned basket, rolling his neck to Joe to indicate he should follow. "Don't you tell me you ain't got a boy hidden under your dirty underwear, Joshua." Asher thumped the basket onto a set of washers. "I know better."

With relief, Joe started opening lids and sorting laundry into the washers, listening as he worked and trying to ignore the curious glances from all the other men. He enjoyed Asher's interactions, for all that having to answer any of them terrified Joe.

Joshua hopped onto a closed washer, hummed suggestively, and both Joe and Asher craned to spot a small, well-built man in extremely short shorts and white tank perched in a rolling laundry cart reading a newspaper. Joe had no idea how he maintained balance, and noted absently that the man made a goatee look very good.

"That is delicious," Asher commented.

"That is Marco." Joshua waggled two fingers, and Marco grinned over headlines. "He's a Leo, he's a gymnast, and he gets lonely if I don't give him something to do while waiting."

"I want details," Asher said, measuring detergent.

Joshua slid off the machines, flipping Asher off and walking backward. "Bitch, you don't get head unless you give head."

"Then you owe me!" Asher cried, indignant.

"Call you, baby."

Asher answered Joshua's blown kiss with one of his own, and turned to Joe. "See? Told you this would be fun."

"Should I be worried?" Joe asked, completely lost.

"God, no. I'll take your mouth over his lip any day."

"Oh, okay," Joe breathed. "I think."

Asher kissed Joe, banishing curiosity with a firecracker of heat, and Joe settled in for an interesting afternoon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Ten years ago, Maxwell you-can-just-call-me Clark thought he would spend his life as a military man. But his world turned into a nightmare when a suicide bomber destroyed Clark's career. It's been a long road to recovery, littered with surgery, alcohol, and secrets, but Clark finally has peace. His bar, Glow, is the place to be in the city of New Amsterdam, the son of the mayor employs Clark as a confidential information man, and Clark’s side venture as part-owner of a BDSM club is quite the profitable release. Clark’s life is a good one, so long as no one gets too close.

Then a man walks into Glow who will forever change Clark’s rules and reality. Thinking Professor Daniel Germain is just another handsome face ripe for Clark’s kind of good time, Clark puts on his smoothest moves. When the professor turns him down, Clark goes on the hunt, and what he discovers shows him that even the deepest wounds can be healed by submitting to love.

 Buy here.

Find Kelly and HJ's other stories:The New Deal, Swing Shift, and Luck in the Making.


You can find Kelly Wyre at http://wyrefire.livejournal.com
And Raine at http://shivawept.livejournal.com

Lucky by Tia Fielding

Lucky by Tia Fielding
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Genre: GLBT, Contemporary
Length: 24 pages


Sloane would've given anything to have been born with the right body, but he hadn't. He’d have given anything to have his family back, but his father insisted that until Sloane was ready to become his heterosexual daughter again, he wanted nothing to do with him. So Sloane dealt with the challenges of living transgendered as best he could. Luckily, his best friend Jace was there with him every step of the way. Jace is the best man Sloane has ever met, but Jace is gay and Sloane still doesn’t have the right parts – until Jace proves that he loves Sloane just the way he is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tia Fielding has crammed a great deal into this small but compelling story. Lucky touches on several hugely important issues: gender dysphoria, what to do to bring body and self into alignment, family dynamics, dating, sex, and love.

In such a brief page count, each issue can only be treated briefly, which is unfortunate, because they are all important and interesting. The huge condensation occurs because we are told most of it, from a dream sequence where Sloane relives his father’s rejection, to a few sentences about starting hormone therapy. Throughout, Sloane’s best friend Jace has been there for him. Jace is gay, gorgeous, and cares, making Sloane very lucky indeed.

Very little of the story takes place in real time; the author opts to tell us what Jace does and the bare bones of what Sloane thinks and does, rather than showing us. Not until Sloane decides that it’s time to step up matters in bed are we all brought into real time to share events with the characters. Not quite half of the story deals with this one evening, which gives short shrift to all the troubling and major changes Sloane endures in trying to become what he knows he is. I can’t help but think that this story has been shoved into a casing far too small to contain it, and that it wants to burst out into an entire novel to expand on all the points that get mentioned.

I would read that novel. I would especially read that novel from the pen of Ms. Fielding, who treats her subject respectfully and thoughtfully, if too quickly. So maybe Lucky has done its correct job, to get a reader not previously exposed to many trans characters interested in reading more. But I’m still not pleased about getting hit with twelve pages of “tell” of anything, because while it’s interesting, it’s also teasing me about how much more so it could be. 3.5 Marbles



Buy here.

Love Notes Anthology

More Love Notes by Vicki Lyn
Publisher: Musa Publishing
Genre: GLBT, Contemporary
Length: Word Count: 80000

Love always has perfect timing.

Across battle lines, foolish games, and conflicting tempos, love always finds a way. From rock and roll to symphonies, modern day geeks to 19th century soldiers, this collection of sexy and romantic stories shows even the loneliest of moments can be made right when the perfect note is delivered. Let More Love Notes find a home in your heart, a reminder that love happens all over, any time, any place. Written by four of the hottest authors in gay erotic romance--Lydia Nyx, Scarlett Parrish, Viki Lyn and Jenny Urban--these stories will definitely add an edge of spice to your Valentine's night.

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Blue Gray Lines by Lydia Nix

This is an epistolary story – while a lot of the action takes place on Wendell’s farm most of the relationship development happens in the series of letters between him and his lover, Declan, who’s gone for a soldier in the Union Army in the War Between the States. The two clearly love one another: as the horrors of the war drag on, they cling to each other more and more. When Declan finally gets a bit of furlough, it’s just in time.

The letters are perhaps a bit more explicit than would have been wise at the time, but paint a beautiful picture of their love, the effort to find a way to fit their relationship into their world, and the joy of finding that there are indeed other men like them. Very nice to find an authentic-feeling historical with a happy ending.

Burn by Scarlett Parrish 

On the rebound after getting left by a cad, Austin heads to a gay bar to pick up an anonymous fuck for the night. He’s had it with intimacy after getting cheated on and wants nothing more than to get his ashes hauled. The man he meets is willing both to banter and to go home with him, calling him “Texas” rather than his name, and answering to “James,” which Austin dubbed him just to have something more personalized than “hey you.”

While the sex is foremost in Austin’s mind, they manage to exchange an extraordinary amount about themselves in their banter, which is sassy, snarky, and a lot of fun, and you can watch real intimacy forming in the absence of trivia like names. The sex is hot, and while “James” would like a rematch, he’s willing to leave it up to Austin, who is torn about opening the note with contact information. This is a witty story about finding more than you were looking for.

Lovers’ Trill by Viki Lyn

The notes here are notes in the music that both Leo and Andre play. Lovers when they were students at conservatory, they split up when Leo veered from his classical roots, although they are the underpinning of his successful rock-and-roll career. Leo had broken it off with a note, but neither man had really gotten over the other, so a chance reconnection in Vienna has a chance to let them rekindle something more lasting.

They have a lot of obstacles to overcome, and their careers aren’t going to make it easy, although they will make it possible. This one’s long enough to justify having chapters and alternating points of view. The author clearly understands music, and tells a good story.

The Heart is a Stringed Instrument by Jenny Urban

Another setting in the world of classical music, this one is totally different – Brandon and Mark stumble on each other as casual hook-ups in a bar, and are quite astonished to find each other at a rehearsal together. Brandon is a cellist, Mark the guest conductor, who probably won’t be around beyond the end of the season. They tell themselves that the gradual slide into intimacy is nothing more than expedience, living together is just convenience, and why hunt for sex when sexy lives just down the hall?

A relationship creeps into what both men are telling themselves is just a matter of handiness, and the HEA catches them entirely by surprise. A delightful story.

***

This anthology is comprised of stories of uniformly high quality, longer than most, averaging 45 pages each. Each was an enjoyable and different take on the theme, and made for a charming read. 4.5 Marbles

A Picture is Worth...

Ain't he cute? And domestic? At least a little. If anyone has a little fic or excerpt to go with him, send it on to CryselleC AT gmail Dot com. and I will post it with your blurb, cover, and links. And if you can't stop droolling on your lap, he'll just wash your jeans for you. (One hundred to 1000 words if you wanna play.)

Eden Winters named Lambda Literary Awards Finalist!

Oh wow do I love it when other people agree with me! Eden Winters' Settling the Score has been named a finalist in the 24th Lambda Literary Awards in the Gay Romance category!

Anyone who hangs around here knows that Eden is a must buy for me, and Settling the Score is one of my favorites. There's a 5 Marble review here, and this is one I go back to when I'm too tired to start something new and need an old friend.

Closeted mechanic Joey Nichols' life is good. His boyfriend landed a major Hollywood role, and is well on the way to superstardom. Joey's bags are packed and soon he'll leave small town Georgia and join the man of his dreams in California, to live out, proud, and together. Days before his planned departure, his lover outs Joey during a televised interview and announces that they've broken up, leaving Joey to face the bigotry of the locals alone.

Bestselling author Troy Steele knows all about having life turned upside down by the media. Now a recluse, Troy shuns all the trappings that come with writing books made into blockbuster movies. He spends his time exacting revenge on a former flame via his novels and hiding out in rural South Carolina, watching celebrity gossip shows. Joey's fifteen minutes of fame bear an eerie similarity to the plot of Troy's latest work in progress. What if Joey could be transformed into everything the fickle ex wanted, as Troy is writing for his fictional hero, and secretly wishes for himself? Once polished, could a diamond-in-the-rough good ole boy confront his ex, then walk away, pride intact? These are Troy's questions, and he's counting on Joey for answers.

Buy here.

Editing Does Matter

This is from something I'm reading, what exactly isn't important. But it does explain why understanding punctuation and doing the proofreading matter.

And he had been good, no more than that, a talent to be reckoned with.

Really? He'd been no more than good, but still so fabulous? This doesn't make sense, one part contradicts the other. Or maybe he's getting by on other attributes than his skill.

This is what I think the author meant:

And he had been good, no, more than that, a talent to be reckoned with.

Now he's all sorts of top flight! And my perception of the character is really different.

Next time someone thinks editing and proofreading shouldn't be counted for a rating, remember that one little comma can completely change the direction the story's going.

A Thousand Word Thursday Story from Jared Rackler

The water beat a steady stream against their skin until no trace of the blood was left. Looking at Lawrence’s skin, he could almost believe it had never happened. If he tried hard enough, he could almost believe they were back in London, bathing together in the big copper tub that sat in his home in Mayfair. Sharp press of stone at his back ripped the vision from him and he was again standing underneath a waterfall on a small rocky outcropping. Even the sight of Lawrence’s nude flesh did little to stir his excitement. Of all the regrets that sliced at his conscience, bringing Lawrence along hurt the worst. Knowing that he was responsible for not only the wound that marked the flesh of his lover’s left shoulder but the curse that was winding its way through Lawrence’s body as well was almost too much to bear.

A sharp intake of breath as James fought back tears drew Lawrence’s attention from their blood stained clothing.

“What’s wrong?” Lawrence asked, turning his eyes towards the taller man. Slitted eyes. Hyena eyes.

James simply stared at his lover, tears shimmering at the edges of his vision. Lawrence’s brow knitted together with worry. He moved closer to the other man, reaching up to cup James’s chin.

“Tell me,” he said as gently as he could manage. The last weeks on the Dark Continent had done more than fray Lawrence’s nerves and it was by the sheer strength of his will that he had not fallen into a heap of quivering muscle as he knew James must be feeling as well.

“I’m so sorry, Lawrence,” James breathed, laying his forehead against the top of the other man’s.

“Sorry?” Confusion played across James’s face. “What ever do you have to be sorry for?”

“What you’ve become, love. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” The tears rolled down his cheek in a silent fall.

Lawrence pushed his head away from James, withdrawing his hand from his lover’s cheek, and looked the man in his eyes, crystalline blue and beautiful even red-rimmed as they were.

“And what is it I have supposed to become?” he asked, voice sharpened much like the glimpse of fang James caught as the man spoke.

“Don’t make me say it,” James begged, turning his head from the man before him.

“You will look at me,” Lawrence ordered, gripping James’s chin in a more sinister version of the lover’s touch he’d held not moments before, and forced the man to look at him, “and tell me what exactly it is you think I have become.”

James said nothing.

“Tell me!” Lawrence screamed.

“A monster,” James intoned, voice hollow as all the emotion he held fell away with the tears.

“How dare you,” Lawrence accused. “I am no monster.”

James grabbed the hand that cupped his cheek and held it before the smaller man’s eyes. “No monster? What man has hands like these?!”

Lawrence looked at the hands, his hands, and he felt the blood drain from his face as the skin tightened around his eyes.

“No,” he stammered, “it must be some trick of the mind. Perhaps I have a fever. Someone is always catching something in this blasted jungle! Who knows what lurks within the bloody greenery!” He pulled his hand from James’s grip.

The other man gave a sharp laugh and Lawrence glared slitted, unnatural eyes at him.
“I’m not mocking you, love,” he said, more for his own comfort than Lawrence’s. “It is no fever of the mind. You have claws, Lawrence… and your eyes have already gone. An animal stares out of the face of my love.”

Lawrence’s lips tightened at those words and he felt the press of fangs against the thin flesh. He reached up a finger and pressed it to the point of the fang. He withdrew and gasped as he saw blood well up from the cut of his fang on his clawed finger.

“James.” The name fell from his lips as he fell against the other man.

James cradled Lawrence to his chest as the smaller man sobbed.

“I am a monster,” he said against his lover’s chest. “I am a monster.”

“Yes.” The word felt like poison and tasted of bitter anise in his mouth. “You are,” he agreed. “But you are still my Lawrence. Still the man I have loved since we were school children and even something as wicked as this curse could never keep me from you.”

Lawrence sobbed harder, something like relief in the sound. They had both needed to hear those words and as he held the man in his arms in the quiet of the waterfall beside them, James realized he meant them. Monstrosity or no, he loved Lawrence. They were no stranger to being different from the other men around them, after all, and Englishmen didn’t abandon his countrymen even if they were now in possession of fangs and claws. Was Her Majesty herself not kept alive by the process of a steam powered wheeled chair? Who’s to say Lawrence’s condition couldn’t be tempered, or even reversed?

Drums sounded from within the jungle. James could hear men chanting along with the steady beat that would surely be their death knell if they remained there much longer.

“They’re coming,” James said to a Lawrence gone quiet at the sound of the drums. “We must run.”
********************************
Today's ficlet comes from Jared Rackler, who is best known for his wonderful cover art, but is also a writer aspiring to publication. Check out some of his artwork!




Check out more at Jared's blog.

The Starboard Sea by Amber Dermont

Title: The Starboard sea
Author: Amber Dermont
Genre: recent historical
Length: 310 pages
Rating: 4.75 stars out of 5


Set against the backdrop of the 1987 stock market collapse, The Starboard Sea is an examination of the abuses of class privilege, the mutability of sexual desire, the thrill and risk of competitive sailing and the adult cost of teenage recklessness. It is a powerful and compelling novel about a young man navigating the depths of his emotional life, finding his moral center, trying to forgive himself, and accepting the gift of love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Starboard Sea is an inside peek into the world and lives of the preppies of the late 80s, that highly bred, over-privileged group that the rest of us either aspired to be or loathed. This is a coming of age novel with some very striking characteristics.

Jason Prosper, child of wealth, has been expelled from his male-only prep school after the death of his best friend, roommate, and sailing partner, for reasons that only he knows are connected. Cal, who committed suicide, was more than Jason’s friend with benefits, but less than his lover, though that may not have been how Cal saw it. Jason, ridden with guilt over Cal’s death for reasons that are only gradually explained, has enrolled at Bellingham, boarding school of the wealthy fuck-ups.

Cal, though we never see him in real time, hangs over the entire book, whether Jason is recalling an adventure, considering what Cal would have made of some current situation, or trying to come to terms with his role in his friend’s death. The school is almost entirely male, though a few of the girls are very much part of the action, particularly Aidan, whose friendship feels like a second chance for Jason in many ways.

Everyone here has some mark against them, which is freeing, for expectations once shattered are only rebuilt to low standards. “Just get them to graduate without making national headlines” seems to be the school’s philosophy, and the students are accustomed to getting away with murder. They torment one another, haze each other, bully one another, and grow up to screw over the world economies because they are primed to positions of the power that comes with wealth. Trouble is something they buy their way out of, even if the cost is as great as a new dormitory building for the school. Laws are for other people.

Jason sails the two-man boats in races that could reasonably lead to Olympic competition, but drops off the sailing team after a freak accident that nearly kills his crewman. Sailing was a passion shared with Cal—not being on the water is a kind of expiation for his part in Cal’s death, and only as he gradually reveals and comes to terms with it can he allow himself the joy that comes with reading the wind and waves.

Being part of one tragedy and nearly a second grows Jason up in a hurry: we listen in on his growth processes as well as the life of the school, which has ugly undercurrents from many sources. He manages to mature a great deal in the year he spends at Bellingham, going from an extremely self-centered brat who nonetheless yearns for some real affection from his father, to the driving force behind what passes for real justice in these quarters after a student dies. Chester, one of the few black students here, teaches Jason a huge amount about friendship and justice—he’s one of the few truly good people here, struggling to survive in a wealthy cesspit, and doing it with style and grace.

One of the wonders of this story is that while a gay relationship is absolutely pivotal to the plot, it’s not overloaded with angst. Jason’s issues with Cal were over justice, not their relationship, exactly, though the two were intertwined. Jason seems to be bi rather than gay, having attractions to a few girls and wondering about starting something with another young man, There are a few kisses but no onscreen sex with anyone except Cal, which is all flashback, and even that is brief and heavily couched in misty language.

My few issues with the story centered on the language: while the author certainly knows her way around a sentence, there are so many fragments that it became intrusive and somewhat stilted because of some unnatural divisions. This was probably intended for characterization of Jason’s fragmented thoughts, but overdone in this first person narration. A minor disconnect in logic in the resolution of the student’s death also bothered me, but overall, this was some fine story telling.

This is a story of growing up, of doing terrible things, understanding them, and atoning, if that can ever really be said to be possible. The complications of gender, orientation, social class and wealth bring some unexpected twists to Jason’s journey, and I was left feeling that he’d become a worthwhile human being in spite of his advantages, and in no way because of them. 4.75 marbles

A Thousand Word Thursday Story from JL Merrow

This is a short epilogue to my story Angel, available from Dreamspinner Press here:  All you need to know from that story is that Michael is a demon, and Don his human lover.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gift


Don raised an eyebrow at the package his lover held out to him. It was wrapped in thick brown paper, tied with twine. “Did I forget an anniversary, or something?”

Michael shook his head, a familiar half-smile playing on his lips. “I just saw it in a shop window on my way home from work, and I knew I had to get it for you.”


Smiling, Don took the present and unwrapped it carefully. It was a framed picture of two men. Or rather, one man and an angel, whose soft white wings unfurled behind him as he held the collapsing body of the other. The angel's eyes were turned heavenward, as if seeking guidance from God. He seemed awestruck by his human burden, but his arms were strong and firm around the fainting man’s torso. Don took a deep breath, and swallowed to dispel the lump in his throat. “It’s beautiful,” he said truthfully.

“It’s how I see you. Us.”

“Yes.” Don hadn’t needed prompting to see that. He could feel himself as the man in the picture, supported by his otherworldly lover. “The only difference is, his wings are white, where yours are black.”

Michael laughed then, a soft sound, without bitterness. “Ah, Donnie.” He shook his head slowly, still laughing.

Don laughed too. “What? What am I missing?”

Gently, Michael took the picture from his hands and laid it on the table. Then he slid his arms around Don’s waist. Pulling him close, Michael brushed a kiss upon Don’s forehead. “Don’t you know, you’ve always been my angel?”



***

Angel

Having abandoned his childhood dream of becoming a priest, Don now tries to help people through his work as a parole officer. His latest assignment turns out to be Michael, a young man Don hasn’t seen since he took Michael to church as a child—and saw his parish priest cast Michael out of the church as a demon. Meeting Michael as an adult re-ignites the obsession Don had with the boy he couldn’t save—but can Michael be saved at all? Or is the demon with the compelling face as damned as he believes himself to be?

Angel is available from Dreamspinner Press here. 

And don’t forget to check out my latest paranormal release, Midnight in Berlin.

The hookup from hell…or the ride of his life?

Leon’s drifter lifestyle gives him the freedom to attend as many music festivals as his heart desires. Even the ones that leave him covered in feathers. Wet feathers, thanks to the rain as he hitchhikes back to his hostel. When he’s offered a ride by a good-looking man in a Porsche, Leon thinks it’s his lucky night. Until he discovers his savior from the storm hides a dark secret: he’s a werewolf.

At first glance, Christoph thinks the shaggy stranger walking Berlin’s streets is a rogue werewolf. By the time he realizes his mistake, it’s too late for both of them. Forced to turn Leon into a monster to save his life, Christoph still has to suffer his pack leader's brutal punishment for endangering them all.

Leon awakens, horrified by what he’s become—but it’s his lover’s fate that spurs him to action. Freeing Christoph is easy, but the aftermath complicates everything as they go on the run, desperate to uncover the secrets their pack leader is hiding. Secrets the pack will kill to protect…
________________________________________
Product Warnings
Take a trip to Europe. Soak up the local culture, meet a creature from your worst nightmares. Contains werewolves behaving badly, clothed and unclothed. Author is not responsible for unexpected, uncontrollable urges to consume massive amounts of, um, bacon.

Goodreads Giveaways

While poking around the community, I discovered that three books that I either liked (Blue Notes and The Rare Event) or expect to like (Diversion) are being offered in hard copy at Goodreads. If you don't hang out at all at Goodreads, it's an enormous forum of book lovers talking about hundreds of thousands of books, from classics to the newest releases. I crosspost my reviews there.

P.D. Singer, Eden Winters, and Shira Anthony each have their latest releases in a giant lottery, but just like the lottery, you can't win if you don't enter! It's free, and while you don't have to review the book there if you win, I can tell you for sure you're more likely to win again if you do. I review my winnings like any other book I talk about, you can do a paragraph or two and call it good.

Click on the covers: these books should go to contestants who will love them.

If you guys like these posts, say so, I can do them regularly.

A Picture is Worth...

Someone's got to have a few words of excerpt or ficlet to go with this picture. One hundred to one thousands words please -- see here for details on playing.

Aisling Book 3: Beloved Son by Carole Cummings

Aisling Book Three: Beloved Son by Carole Cummings
Publisher: Torquere Press
Genre: GLBT, Fantasy
Length: 119,000 words or 388 pages

Newfound love might not be enough. Trust holds the possibility of both salvation and damnation.

Circumstances having forced them to seek asylum in Lind, Wil and Dallin are momentarily safe, but find themselves at the center of a convergence they’re not sure they’re strong enough to face. The power of the land and the Mother awaits Wil in the bowels of Lind, but it comes with strings attached. With Dallin's help, Wil must find a way to defeat the soul-eater, save the Father, Her Beloved, and manage to keep his soul in the process.

Through deduction and magic and mutual strength, Dallin and Wil must accept their roles as the Guardian and the Aisling and stand together against a ruthless god in a climactic battle of dreams and wills. The fates of their souls and those of all mortals hang in the balance. But what good is the power of love if the one who needs it doesn't know how to trust?

Aisling: Book Three, Beloved Son, is the third book in the Aisling series. Other titles in the Aisling series include Book One: Guardian, and Book Two: Dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carole Cummings has presented a sweeping dénouement to her stunning trilogy. Aisling Part Three, Beloved Son, completes all the story arcs that have been building to give as a monumental tale of men, gods, love, and oh yeah, saving the world, too.

Apologies for spoilers for books 1 and 2, but it’s nearly unavoidable. Aisling must be read in order to make proper sense, but it’s well worth it. Start with Guardian, then read Dream, and then Beloved Son will cap this epic.

The one thing Wil Calder fears most is being subsumed and kept in a cage, forced to do the will of others stronger than he. Yet with his Guardian, Dallin Braden, he comes to know that his is the strength, his are the decisions, and that all he is will become enough to save the Father, the Mother, and the people he may one day call his own. He’s being herded to this fate by those who would take his strength for their own, and he’s fought against it, but cones to see that he cannot even mount the fight without doing exactly what he’s worked all his life to avoid.

Dallin, who has sworn to prevent Wil from falling victim to what he fears most, is deeply torn. The tightrope he walks is to give the Mother and the Father the help they need in defeating their worst foe, which Wil can do, against giving Wil the freedom he needs to survive. Dallin’s honesty and his perception of need, mixed with his very real and great love for Wil, threatens to tear him apart.

This is a very character driven story; plenty happens but much of it is in a realm inaccessible to people. Wil and Dallin shift back and forth between states once they have reached the people and the power of Lind and a sacred place that Wil has feared for his entire life. The lies and half truths fed him by his keeper and betrayer Siofra still work at the back of Wil’s mind; his growth is phenomenal, and greatly due to freedom and Dallin’s belief. Success isn’t a given—they must fight for everything, over and over. Beset by men who think they know best, each step is a battle of its own, with betrayal lurking around every corner.

There are battles on the physical plane, which are important but not truly the focus of the story; what Wil must do is in the realm of the gods, the Mother, the Father, and the usurper Aeledfyres. Little is what Wil believes it to be, even his true name, which he finds at last in a rush of love.

The language is beautiful: what Carole Cummings does with words is artistry, I stayed up late every night to finish this, pulled by the power and the beauty, as well as the excitement. She makes us bleed with Dallin and fear with Wil, and believe that the fate of all lies within their hands.

Everything comes together in a crashing climax: all of Wil’s fears and potentials, all of Dallin’s skills and beliefs. I cried at the end, and then again at the epilogue, for the simple relief. All three volumes of Aisling live in paperback on my Keep Forever shelf. And I’m sniffling a little now.
5 Marbles

Find here in paper or ebook at Amazon.

Thousand Word Thursday Excerpt from Carole Cummings

From Aisling Book Three: Beloved Son

*


“You should’ve had a happy boyhood,” Wil whispered. “You should’ve had so much more than what you had, you should have so much more now.”

“So shouldn’t we all,” Dallin answered, just as quietly, dropped a kiss to the top of Wil’s head. “You should laugh all the time, like you did today.” He took hold of Wil’s arms and pushed him gently away. Wil could almost see him, once again, put away the small bit of his past he’d allowed himself to remember, bury it and then move on. He turned, gestured for Wil to follow. “C’mon, I want to show you—”

“Dallin.”

He kept walking. “—how clear the water is. It’s all rock here, so you can see right down to—”

“Dallin.”


Dallin paused, but didn’t turn. Wil took the few paces over to him slowly, laid a hand to his arm.

“Do you put everything away like that? Do you bury everything that hurts?”

You keep saying you see me, and I believe you do, because you bother to look. Well, what if I want to see you, too?

For a moment, Wil thought Dallin wasn’t going to answer; he bent his neck, mouth twisted tight, like he was angry, but it didn’t feel like anger. “We all do what we must, Wil.” His voice was heavy, tired. “We take what the Mother gives us and do our best with it. This is my best.”

Wil tilted his head, genuinely curious. “Pretending nothing hurts you is best?”

“Not pretending.” Dallin was staring at the ground, lines of tension knotting his shoulders, vibrating beneath Wil’s hand. “Accepting it and then moving on.”

“Burying it.”

Dallin slumped a little, closed his eyes on a weary sigh. “Wil, can’t we just—?”

“And if I die?” Wil paused when he saw Dallin’s jaw lock, twitch. “Will you bury me twice?” he pressed. “Once in the ground and once in your heart?”

Dallin lifted his head, locked his gaze to Wil’s, steady and hard. “We’ll never know, will we?” he answered stonily. “Because I don’t intend to let it happen.”

He stared at Wil, sudden anger, daring Wil to negate the statement he no doubt saw as mere simple fact. Wil bowed his head, wishing he had the courage to tell him that it wasn’t really his choice.

“You’re borrowing trouble,” Dallin told him, “you always do. You’re so much stronger than you think you are, and you keep forgetting that I’m not going anywhere. I won’t let—”

“I don’t think I can beat him,” Wil said, a little more wobbly than he would’ve preferred. “I’d like to think I won’t be another of your ghosts you pretend you don’t see.”

Wasn’t that strange? He’d spent so much of the past few years willing people not to even notice him, to forget him as soon as they’d served whatever use he’d had for them the moment before. Now, all he wanted was to know he’d be remembered, remembered by someone who’d looked at him, someone who’d seen and not looked away. Not invisible. Not merely the sum of his sins. A real person, no one’s dream, whole and the man he was reflected back in his Guardian’s eyes, enhanced and cleaned of tarnish and imperfections of the soul.

… a Guardian who loves him above all.

How very terrifying.

How very… consoling.

Dallin was silent for some time, quietly seething and trying very hard not to. He took Wil once again by the arms, turned him so he faced the falls. Roughly, he wrapped his arms about Wil’s shoulders, dipped his face to the crook of his neck, held on tight. “Then don’t die,” he finally answered.

Wil shut his eyes, shook his head. “I can’t—”

“I don’t want to do this now,” Dallin whispered, a heavy note of pleading in his voice, and he squeezed Wil a little tighter, just enough to constrict breath the tiniest bit. “Look up at that water, at the rock it carved its way through—scoring its way through everything to find its true path.” A tightening of his grip and a small shake to Wil’s shoulders. “That’s you. You are the river, Wil. Stronger than earth and rock—stronger than fire. And now you’ve got the strength of Lind behind you, or you will.”

His voice… it blended with the song of the water, just as strong, just as sure and clear. He made Wil almost believe every word. All of those things inside him and his Guardian at his back, pointing the way.

“And you,” Wil said. “You’re behind me.”

“And me,” Dallin promised. “Perhaps you can’t beat him, but we can. I know how this has to go, and if you want prophecies, if that’ll make you feel better, I’ll give you one, all right?—I’ll get Thorne to put it in the Songs. A prophecy from the Guardian to the Aisling, are you ready?” He didn’t wait for Wil to answer. “It’ll be dark, it’ll be terrifying, it’ll probably hurt, and you might even want to die. It’ll be the worst thing either one of us has ever seen or lived through, but you will come out the other side, understand?”

Wil reached up, gripped Dallin’s arms in both hands. “How—?”

“Understand?”

Understanding didn’t really seem to be the point. Not even a little bit. Trust. That blind faith that Dallin so despised, and here he was, asking for it, demanding it, and he didn’t even seem to know it. And here Wil was, wanting to hand it over.

I will do whatever it takes. I want you to survive, Wil.

Do I look like I don’t know what I’m doing?

Just trust me, I won’t let anything happen.

Wil shifted a little, sank himself deeper into the embrace.

Oh, I trust you. I can’t seem to help myself.

Trust and faith and give and take, and closing his eyes, following blind and believing without even thinking about it that his Guardian wouldn’t let him fall. That it was all right to be weak sometimes, because there was another there to be strong, to balance you, propping you up in your moment of frailty, not waiting to tear out your throat the minute you bared it. There was a strange sort of strength in that, one you could give back, because it didn’t have to define you, and ‘weak’ didn’t have to mean ‘not strong’.

Wil twisted his neck, laid a soft kiss to Dallin’s throat. “I understand.”

He let Dallin support him as he leaned back, watched the falls. Watched the brown, sunlit ghost of a gangly, tow-headed little boy plunge from the top of the Stair, laughing and shouting, long arms and legs flailing, as he splashed down into indigo-froth.

Smiling a little, Wil closed his eyes, breathed in the day, and wished with all his heart it never had to end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh wow do I love this book, the whole trilogy. Review for Part Three to come shortly, 5 divas and marbles and stars,  and you lucky people get to read this small but important chunk. Read the whole thing, I promise you solemnly that this is a wonderful wonderful story.

 Newfound love might not be enough. Trust holds the possibility of both salvation and damnation.

Circumstances having forced them to seek asylum in Lind, Wil and Dallin find themselves at the center of an approaching convergence they’re not sure they’re strong enough to face. The power of the land and the Mother wait for Wil in the bowels of Lind, but it comes with strings attached. With Dallin's help, he must find a way to defeat the soul-eater and save the Father, Her Beloved, and manage to keep his soul in the process.

Friends are not necessarily friends. Trusted mentors are not necessarily to be trusted. And good intentions are sometimes the most dangerous sort.

Through deduction and magic and mutual strength, Dallin and Wil must accept their roles as the Guardian and the Aisling, and stand together against a ruthless god in a climactic battle of dreams and wills, the fates of both of their souls and those of all mortals hanging in the balance. Except, what good is the strength of love, if the one who needs it doesn't know how to trust?

Buy here.

A Picture is Worth...

Someone's got to have an excerpt or a ficlet to tell us what these two are doing standing in a waterfall!

Authors? See the upper left link for "How Thousand Word Thursday" works. One hundred words, up to 1000 to satisfy our curiosity, please!

The Rebuilding Year by Kaje Harper

Title: The Rebuilding Year
Author: Kaje Harper
Cover Artist: Angela Waters
Publisher: Samhain
Genre: Contemporary
Length: 298 pages



Losing nearly everything leaves room for the one thing they can’t live without.

A few excruciating minutes pinned in a burning building cost Ryan Ward his job as a firefighter, the easy camaraderie of his coworkers, his girlfriend, and damn near cost him his left leg. Giving up, though, isn’t an option. Compared to the alternative, choosing a new profession, going back to school, and renting a room from the college groundskeeper are simple.

Until he realizes he’s falling in love with his housemate, and things take a turn for the complicated.

John Barrett knows about loss. After moving twice to stay in touch with his kids, he could only watch as his ex-wife whisked them away to California. Offering Ryan a room seems better than rattling around the empty house, but as casual friendship moves to something more, and a firestorm of emotions ignites, the big old house feels like tight quarters.

It’s nothing they can’t learn to navigate, though. But when dead bodies start turning up on campus—and one of the guys is a suspect—their first taste of real love could go up in smoke.

Product Warnings

Contains two hot men wrestling with a shift in their sexuality, as well as a few positions probably listed in the Gay Kama Sutra. But it’s not all about the hot and sweaty—especially when your previously straight life knocks on the door and comes back to visit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Given the astonishing amount of baggage the protagonists have to carry, Kaje Harper has done a superior job of presenting just the right amount of seriousness leavened with humor. Both Ryan and John are in the middle of redefining their lives when they meet, and manage to come together as part of it.


Ryan’s life has been totally disrupted by the fire that dropped a burning beam on him, trapping and nearly killing him. Missing big chunks out of his leg, and lucky to have what’s left, Ryan has gone back to his original dream, put on hold after a disaster changed his family and his focus. Instead of firefighting and rescues, he’s in medical school, having no trouble with the academics, although the social aspects are provoking, since he’s noticeably older and far more world-weary than his classmates. While he’s played with his share of shallow but willing women, he’s beyond that now and doesn’t want to listen to the nightly exploits of his roommate.

John has spent his entire adult life being a family man: married at eighteen to his pregnant girlfriend, he’s now trying to be a good father to his two children even after the divorce and his ex’s remarriage. It’s not easy either, when teenagers aren’t very talkative and the ex finds endless barriers to put between them.

It suits both men to have Ryan move in; they’ve become friends and expect to get along all right sharing a big house. Becoming lovers is absolutely not on the radar, although acting as each other’s wingman could be. It isn’t until a moment of shared pain leads to a kiss that they touch one another, and then I had to giggle as they sprang apart with EEEEEEH! We’re not gay! They have to find their way back to comfortable friendship, but do go on to become lovers in a thoughtful but not over-angsty way. This new facet of their sexualities doesn’t sit well with either of them at first, and they have to grope their way to understanding themselves.

While John and Ryan are learning to accept their desire for each other, John’s troubled teenaged son appears on the doorstep needing refuge. He’s a good kid but beaten down by his step-father’s assumptions and demands. Of course Marcus presents a major complication to them, though it never becomes a showdown for John to have to choose between his lover and his child.

There’s a mystery wending through the background. Some of the clues seem only marginally connected, but the author plays fair; it was all there to see once I took a second look. When Marcus gets caught in the grand finale, it does seem like an overreaction on the part of the villain, but it’s still heart-stopping for the reader.

Many things about this story are beautifully done: the organic development of John and Ryan’s relationship, touched but not soaked with introspection on both their parts, and the beginnings of the blending of a family. Ryan has a lovely relationship with John’s kids, part older brother and part second father, and you know he’s going to be an important part of their lives. The mystery wound through the novel, in places so subtly as to be nearly invisible, but still present. The climax of the story could not have unfolded without tragedy if Ryan had a different skill set or John trusted him less, so very well done.

The timeline seemed a bit awkward to me – while this was truly a rebuilding year for Ryan, whose life had been totally decimated in the fire, the actual time for healing, rehab, and getting into med school seemed truncated, but more doable if I didn’t think about it too hard. It also seemed very quick from “yes, I’m going to kiss him again” to “I love him” but given the friendship, that too is doable. John’s shotgun marriage as a teen seemed like a relic of another time, but I could believe he really loved her, too.

The secondary characters varied in their portrayals. Marcus was extremely vivid as a conflicted fifteen year old who had to cope with the revelation of his father’s new sexual identity on top of everything else. His sister Torey and the detective were also well developed given the size of their roles. The harpy ex and her overbearing new husband mouthed the expected lines and offered no surprises.

I enjoyed The Rebuilding Year greatly and read it at one sitting, going back later to collect details for reviewing. Kaje Harper tells a very smooth story, and I would recommend this book warmly. 4.5 marbles

No Pirates

I'm getting a lot of hits again from people who are clearly looking for a free download of various books. That's not what we're all about here: this is a review site, not a pirate site. Don't knock on my door hoping I will help you steal, because I won't. The authors put their hearts and souls into their stories, and the social contract is, you wanna read, you pay the fee. It's damned little for what these folks go through to bring you a worthwhile book.

Do I get free files? Not exactly. I don't pay money, I pay in words, in reviews. That's a social contract too and believe me, I could earn the money to buy the book in the same time as it takes me to write a review, and probably with less effort.And there's days when that seems like a better idea than reviewing. I buy a lot of books too.

Yeah, I've heard all the arguments for why stealing is okay. They're bullshit. It's not okay and it never will be okay. Maybe I can't stop the pirates but I sure won't help them.

I have way too much respect for the authors to steal their work. And I want all my visitors here to feel the same.

Permanently Legless by JL Merrow

Title: Permanently Legless
Author: JL Merrow
Cover Artist: Trace Edward Zaber
Publisher: Amber Quill
Genre: contemporary
Length: 30 pages

The Taliban may have taken both of Chris's legs, but he came back from Afghanistan with his sense of humour and his lust for life firmly intact. The one thing that can shake his confidence, however, is meeting Josh, the one-night stand from before his tour of duty he hasn't been able to forget.

It turns out Josh hasn't forgotten Chris, either. But with Chris such a changed man, can they still have a future?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


JL Merrow dops us into the middle of the story, beginning as she means to go on, with our narrator rolling over the toes of those too dim to get out of the way. Chris has already had the worst happen, and now he’s ready to go on with his life in the best way he can.


In a wheelchair now because he lost both legs in Afghanistan, Chris has done all the crying he’s willing to admit to, and wants to get back into something approaching his regularly scheduled life. He spends weekend afternoons watching football in the pub with his buddies, who have learned to treat him like one of the guys, because that’s what he is, even minus the limbs. That’s pretty rare—Chris has some tart thoughts about people who can’t manage to look him in the eye or who treat him as stupid or invisible just because he’s an amputee. I think there was a Brit joke right at the beginning that would have been funnier if I’d had the cultural referent, but no matter: Chris’s wry sense of humor carries this piece just fine.

He’s ready to head to what passes for the local gay scene, where he’d had a brief but memorable encounter with a pretty young man named Josh. The hero’s send-off Josh gave him has kept Chris going through his tour, injury, and treatment, but he’s never tried to contact Josh again, though Josh made it clear he hoped for more. And now here he is, across the room being pawed by other men.

Poor Josh has to do everything but bat Chris over the head to assure him of his continued interest: Chris may be using a combination of stiff upper lip and sassiness to keep going but he’s not confident in his appeal. That’s not stopping Josh, and all I can say is “Good for them!”

Chris’s appreciation for Josh is obvious, though it’s harder to see where Josh found the torch he’s been carrying all this time. The talk they’d had after sex before Chris went to war must have been pretty intense, because it’s all they know of each other until they meet again in the club, yet Josh has been thinking of him all this time. There’s no feeling of retroactive attraction because Chris got hurt and should be considered a hero, which is a relief; it’s just not clear why an evening’s pick-up made that big an impression.

The story is a charming quick read and brings a smile, not just from the Brit feel that thankfully was not edited out, but from the feeling of normalcy in a difficult situation. There is not one trace of self-pity here, just a dash of angst, and a very matter of fact look at what life is like for a man newly confined to a wheelchair. It’s easy to want more of this story, but I think the author made a good decision in keeping this short, because maintaining Chris’s upbeat attitude over a longer work might not have been possible. 4.25 marbles

A Picture is Worth...

Don't we all need a little break from winter? Maybe someone has a little story or excerpt to tell us how well these two know each other, and where the sand has, or will, get stuck. Email with links, blurb and a cover to CryselleC AT Gmail Dot com or heck, just drool. (A 100 word drabble? Or up to 1000 words of your choice)