Steam(punk)ing Right Along

I literally just finished my first edit pass through my steampunk novel. I finished the manuscript about two months or so ago and I've been letting it sit, getting some distance from it be before doing my own beta-read. As far as the last 25K words or so go, it was the first time I'd read them at all. I can't tell you how excited I am to find that I really like this book! I honestly didn't know if the story would hold up, if it made sense, if it was loaded with contradictions and inconsistencies that would have to be corrected, etc., etc. I can confidently say it does, it does, and it wasn't. Yay! I haven't felt this good about a project in a long time. I still have to go through all my tracked changes before sending it to my beta readers, of course, but wheeeeeee! That clearly hasn't dampened my enthusiasm. ;-)

I hope everyone who has chosen to participate in NaNoWriMo this year is steaming merrily along on their own works! I might have to start a new novel this month myself just because I can. Hee-hee!

To NaNo or Not to NaNo?

It's almost that time again. November is coming and that means NaNoWriMo. I'm seriously considering not signing up this year. Oh, I think I'll still buckle down on the writing in November, but I'm not feeling the call of the meaningless, self-imposed, arbitrary deadline. That may change. There's a steampunk western knocking around in the back of my brain. If it finds its way to the front, then perhaps. Still, I've done six NaNos in a row, and that's not bad. I could take a year off. Maybe this is the new 7-year itch. We'll see.

Anyone else on the fence this year? I'd love to hear your thoughts, pro or con, on taking a year off NaNo.

When Pantsers Plot

This is a topic that's been heavy on me of late. I am a pantser. Always have been. But this year for NaNoWriMo, I had a plot before I had anything else. I didn't know any characters' names or much about the world itself when I started. I only knew that it was sort of like the present, only not; and that there had to be a psychic working with the police. To me, this is utterly backwards. My usual m.o. is characters=>world=>plot. This whole plot=>world + characters thing is downright freaky and wrong. As a result, my writing this NaNo has been sporadic. I'm still reaching my daily goal averaged over the month, but it's coming as 3K or 5K one day, and <1K other days. Why? Simple. It's because I know how the book ends and as a result, I'm bored. Nothing is as fun when you know how it ends! I've never been one to skip to the end of a book to see how it comes out, so writing as if I had done just that is incredibly challenging.

I'm finding that the days when I'm getting the most verbiage written, the days that are at times almost easy, are the days when I'm writing character-based scenes that I didn't plan ahead in any way. I'm making new discoveries and digging into these characters whose names I didn't even know until less than a month ago. At the same time, they are giving me insight into the world they live in, which is incredibly helpful because, dude, what is this world, you know? I still don't even have a name for the city! It's downright nuts. They're letting me in on the technology, the legal structure, the society—because like I said, it's here and now, only it's not quite. It's a little bit left of here and a little more ahead of now.  Think Max Headroom, only less prophetic. (Seriously, that show got way too many things right, and they're not the good things.) What did they say on that show's credits? A week from next Sunday? Something like that.

So I keep plugging away. I have every expectation that I'll reach 50K before the end of the month. I suspect, though, that this manuscript will need more rewriting and editing than any of my previous NaNovels because I can already see where I'm missing including details that would make the world richer and more complete. But that's not what this month is about. This month is about getting words and story out onto the page. Finesse is not part of the equation. That's what December is for. Or January. Or February... Oh, hell. I'll see you in the spring. Maybe.

A little teaser from my mini-NaNo

If you follow my Twitter account @katrinastrauss you'll know I'm off my reading break and back to writing. I'm not officially participating in NaNo, but I've issued myself my own personal mini-NaNo challenge to get back into the swing of things.

So, what am I working on? I've pulled out and dusted off a half-written M/M voyeur/exhibitionist short I started two years ago. As is sometimes the case, the Muse morphed and mutated, landing certain characters and elements in two wholly unrelated stories that have since been published. The original genesis has stayed in the back of my mind, however, and I'm ready to make something of it.

I'm aiming to place it with a certain publisher and will hopefully announce a contract in a few months. In the meantime, progress is coming along nicely. So nicely, I thought I'd share a teaser. Here you go, a little NC-17 snippet of my mini-NaNo:


*****

Logan clicked the bookmarked web link and logged in to his free account. The browser immediately filled with thumbnail images of men, their body types ranging from slender to hard-bodied to soft. Some showed off their chests, others teased with hip-slung pants to reveal V-lines with a hint of pubes. A few boasted the full monty, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Ignoring the flashing ads in the sidebar, Logan filtered his search to profiles listing their age as late twenties like him or older. From there, he narrowed down to those with the face or body to match their birth year. The twenty and early thirty-somethings tended to be skinnier, but several of the middle-aged guys could give their younger counterparts a run for their money at the gym. Whatever their body type, Logan liked men, not boys, and the guys who fell into limbo between barely legal to his age could be hard to gauge. A good example would be Seth, the cute black-haired counter boy who’d waited on him at the cafe that morning. Seth appeared to be in his early twenties, and had to be out of high school to work on a Monday morning, but he could easily be a mature looking seventeen-year-old dropout.

Better safe than sorry, Logan thought. Thankfully, it wasn’t too difficult weeding out jailbait at his favorite website. Most of the regulars were in their thirties or forties, Logan suspected due to a combination of confidence, experience, boredom, and/or midlife crisis. Whatever their reasons, it provided him a nice selection of gorgeous, uninhibited men willing to perform on cam.

He studied tonight’s assortment, split almost evenly between mirror shots from smart phones to freeze-framed webcam stills. Some subjects showed their faces, others reveled in anonymity by aiming the cam directly at their dicks. In the brief chats he’d enjoyed, Logan had learned some of them were out and proud gay men, while others confessed they were married with wives and children. A few insisted they were truly straight but just liked being watched, period. Whatever their story -- gay, straight, bi, out, or closeted -- they all shared one secret in common. They were exhibitionists who liked to play on cam, for voyeurs like Logan who couldn’t get enough.

A few scammers had tried to lure him to pay-per-sites with a promise of more, but why bother paying when so many men on this site simply did it for free? To the true exhibitionists, sexual release paired with fulfillment of their taboo pastime was reward enough, and Logan was more than happy to oblige them.

Like the site regular who was direct messaging him now. At first glance, “likemypackage69” appeared to be another cheesy handle for someone obviously trolling for sex. It would be easy to lump the name in with the likes of “hotc0ck4u” or “HornyAzzHell”, but likemypackage69 had previously told Logan he worked for a parcel delivery service and was born in 1969.

“It was a good year,” Logan mumbled, judging by the hot and horny GenXers who frequented the site. He opened the message box.

Hi there, the text said. What you up to tonight?

Logan texted back, Sipping cheap wine and in need of stimulating conversation.

Stimulating, huh? I can do that. ;)

Of course, likemypackage69 was there for online kinks like everyone else, but at least he’d put some thought and creativity into his clever handle, and in Logan’s book, clever earned extra bonus points. Within seconds, he accepted the one-way webcam invite. A familiar tattooed chest with pierced nipples and steeled pecs filled the screen. This particular gentleman only showed himself from the neck down, but what a sight it always was to behold.

Logan couldn’t resist commenting. Slinging packages around all day must be a good workout.

LOL, likemypackage69 replied, catching Logan’s innuendo. It burns the carbs, that’s for sure. >:)

The witty banter paired with frisky emoticons didn’t last long. likemypackage69 adjusted his camera and rolled his chair back to reveal his erection. Like other regulars, he was already naked, leaving Logan to wonder if guys like that pranced around the house nude all day, waiting to jack off at a moment’s notice. Personally, Logan preferred his partners-in-crime partially clad, as it conjured an act of secrecy, naughtiness, and spontaneity, but the sudden sight of a hard, thick cock filling the monitor didn’t exactly turn him off, either.

likemypackage69 started off slow, offering his viewer a nice, detailed show as he worked his big, strong hand up and down his swollen shaft. Logan sat back and relaxed, hands rested casually on the chair arms. His preferred method was to watch as long as possible before touching himself.

likemypackage69 tugged harder at his dick. Drops of precum beaded at the slit. As he swiped his thumb around the glistening crown, Logan licked his lips. He shifted in his seat, his cock swelling against tight denim.

I could be anyone, he thought, and this guy doesn’t even care who’s watching. Hell, he could’ve delivered packages to the newspaper, or the apartments, and Logan would’ve never known it was his online acquaintance.

It made the moment all the more dirty and arousing. Balls tightening, he unbuttoned his jeans, then planted his palms on his thighs and dug in his fingertips. Wait, he told himself. Just a little longer…

likemypackage69 stroked faster, rougher, the motion blurring his hand. By the time Logan caved and unzipped his jeans, he was fully worked up and ready to burst. He envisioned what likemypackage69’s face looked like. Based on other men in that age group with tattoos and piercings, he was likely smooth-headed with a trimmed beard, a smattering of fine lines just starting to creep up around his eyes, probably an earring or two.

Prick in hand, Logan held back until the other man came, and then he let it all go, shooting his load in one hot, messy burst. They joked afterward about one-handed typing, and making sure they didn’t get the keyboard sticky.

And then the cam frame went black, their session ending as quickly as it had started.

Once the rush of climax subsided, Logan cleaned up his mess, shut the computer down, and turned in for the night. Clad in boxers, he laced his fingers behind his neck and stared up at the vaulted ceiling. Two Door Cinema Club played on the satellite radio. Normally, the Irish power trio’s music cheered Logan up, but he felt empty and lonely, like he always did after an online session, but really, he liked to watch, and the Internet offered the only window through which he could safely, legally do so. He wondered if he’d ever meet someone who could incorporate his fetish into an actual relationship. Call him soft and sentimental, but it might be nice to cuddle afterward.

Do deviants cuddle? Smirking at his own question, he thought of Seth -- tall and lean, dark and brooding with a hint of recklessness behind those brown eyes. In his offline, real-world experience, guys like that were a wild ride in bed, but Logan’s fantasies ran outside of the bedroom. The one real-life boyfriend he’d broached the topic with had freaked out and dumped him shortly afterward. In retrospect, asking his partner to jack off in the backseat of the city bus had pushed the limits, but damn it, his ex had asked, “What’s one fantasy you’d like to explore with me? Name anything.”

Maybe Logan could try again with someone else, somewhere more dark and secretive. What if he asked Seth to a movie? And they sat in the back row?

The blood rushed to his cock again as the delicious scenario played in his mind.

*** Copyright 2010, 2011
by Katrina Strauss ***

Catching a Breath

::deep breath::

The show I'm in has opened and now I might have the brain power to gear up for NaNoWriMo. This, naturally, means I'm about to get hit with edits on my m/m/f novel Rose & Thorn (that will be released by Torquere Press around the new year). It's going to be a marathon run, I can tell.

Here's a little about Rose & Thorn:

Eamon Quinn is an actor with designs on a position with Rose & Thorn Theatrics. As a new university graduate, he's up to the acting challenge, but he's not so sure he's up to facing life in the big city. Fortunately, he quickly finds a friend in Jasper Davison. Jasper is intrigued by Eamon, sure that he's a fellow mountain-born soul, and that's something Jasper's been missing in coastal Yanuk. When both men are hired by Rose & Thorn, the kindred spirits soon become lovers--and catch the eye of the company's head apprentice, the pretty and precocious HJ Greenhills.

Bad luck plagues the theatre--accidents, injuries, and a sudden death--leading to rumors of a curse. Weaving sexual energy with Druid magic, Eamon and Jasper seek the truth behind the rumors. But confirming the curse is only the first hurdle. They need figure out who cast it and how to end it before it causes more harm. Even together, the two men aren't strong enough. Druid magic works best in threes, and so they seek HJ's help to lift the curse. The three put their bodies and energies together to call up the magic they need to set things right.

And on a completely unrelated note: It's St. Crispin's Day! I recommend celebrating by watching Branagh's Henry V and buying a new pair of shoes. "We few, we happy few..."

Snow, Words, and Worlds

So I'm sitting here, ahead of time because I actually remembered it's my blog day tomorrow (today by the time this posts), and I'm wondering what to blog about. I could blog about the unseasonable snow that fell off and on Monday. It stuck, too. Very weird for November around here. I could blog about NaNoWriMo. I hit 45K words today, so yay that. Or I could do what I said I'd do last time I posted and tell you a little more about the novella I recently contracted with Torquere.

Okay, what did I tell you before? ::goes to check:: [muttering] Compass Hearts; first novella; same universe as... Got it. [/mutter]

Here's a bit of blurbage for starters:
When Ash Thearon meets Matthew Morgan, he finds him handsome and more than a little puzzling. To solve that puzzle, he has to first collect all the pieces—something more easily said than done.

As the fourth son of merchant parents, Matthew has always been superfluous. The only guidance he ever received was to behave and to stay out of the way. Now at a new university half a world away from home, he must discover who he is and what he wants. The only trouble is, he's never made a decision in his life.

The new friends quickly become lovers, but Matthew's limited experience has taught him only how to be dependent. Ash wants more than that; he wants a partner. As the holiday of Afan Valen approaches, Matthew tries too hard to please his new lover and Ash wonders how to teach him independence without losing him.

***

I said it's set in the same world as Client Privileges, which it is. But it's a different country, in fact a different continent, than that book. When I say "world," I mean it literally, not just literarily. I have maps and everything. Not of the whole planet, but of a good chunk of it. It's a pretty big planet, to be honest, and it doesn't have frozen poles so there's a lot more habitable land than there might otherwise be.

Compass Hearts is a quiet romance, if you know what I mean. And if you don't know, well, you're smart. I'm sure if you think about it for a minute you'll come up with your own idea what that means, and I bet you'll be spot on. It's quiet, but it's steamy, too. You put two sexy college boys together in the middle of winter and they're bound to find ways to keep each other warm, right?

I don't have any dates yet, but I'll let you know when I do. In the meantime, Happy Thanksgiving to those who are celebrating it this week. I'll be most thankful if the snow melts before I have to drive to my folks' house on Thursday!

Autumn Traditions

Autumn has struck here with a vengeance. Lots of wind and rain--and the small power outages that tend to come with the wind and the rain. I love autumn, though. I love the wacky weather. I love the colours that the leaves turn. There are a couple of streets near me where the trees all look like flavours of jam. There's apricot and plum and golden raspberry peach. Makes me hungry for a PB&J just looking at them. Halloween decorations are appearing in people's yards, too. I put mine out Saturday--just before the weather hit. I haven't done that the past two years because I haven't been home on Halloween, and I've missed the ritual digging out of the big plastic bin and the unpacking of the decorations.

Another autumn tradition I enjoy is roasting pumpkins. I'll do that next week. It makes the whole house smell pumpkiny good! I'm a freak for autumn foods, you see. Last night it was butternut squash enchiladas. Last week it was pasta with mushroom sauce. The week before was sweet potato and chick pea stew. Mmmm! The flavours of fall!

Let's not forget the tradition of watching Kenneth Branagh's Henry V on St. Crispin's Day. (That was yesterday, in case you didn't know. This year is the 595th anniversary of the Battle of Agincourt.)

And last but far from least, there's the autumn--or more specifically November--tradition of NaNoWriMo. I'm participating again this year. This is year five for me. I've "won" every year, but this time I'm not so sure I'll make it. I'm even less prepared than usual, I'm afraid. We'll see. I am a competitive person, even when I'm just competing with myself, so perhaps I'll bring in another one. ::fingers crossed::

So, what about you? What autumnal traditions do you most enjoy?

Still Plugging Away

Yes, I'm still NaNoing. No, I am not up to where I want to be for my word count. I allowed several days in Washington DC to sway me from my 2k/day goal. Still, a good evening at the pub on Sunday helped remedy a portion of that. Hauling out my tarot deck has also helped me fill out a couple of scenes that were somewhat outlinish due to me being in one Washington and my cards being in the other when I was initially writing those scenes. Still, not enough to catch me up, though. I maintain hopes of reaching 50K before midnight of the 30th, however. In between writing spurts, to regain my frayed sanity and revive my melting gray matter, I turn to mindless entertainment such as this:



If you love John Barrowman or "Glee" or, like me, both, this will not fail to make you laugh. Hell, it'll probably make you laugh even if you don't. :-D

NaNoWriMo *again*?

It's year four for me and NaNoWriMo. Once again, I'm trying to hit 2K words/day. It's a method that has worked well enough for me in the past, and that is holding fairly true again this year. At that rate, you see, I can reach the 50K goal five days early, which is nice because I hate bringing anything in at the last possible moment. I had a bit of a set-back yesterday, unfortunately. Yesterday I was too fucking angry to produce more than 82 words. I could have typed more, but it would have been nothing but vitriol. Venomous and hateful things that have absolutely nothing to do with the story or the characters in it. The book deserves better than that. I'm not one of those lucky people who can lose themselves in writing. (That's what theatre is for.) But it's a rare day where my emotions take over so powerfully that I can't write at all. It's been several years since I've been this angry about anything, and I admidt it's a little scary to discover that I am still so very good at sustained rage. It's not something to be proud of, you know? So, I'm hoping for a better word count today, but I just don't know. I'm still furious beyond all rational arguments. Wish me luck? I could use it.

Another Opening, Another Show!

Which has nothing to do with my post but everything to do with RL. The show I'm working on opens on Friday night and damn but I'll be glad to get this one up and running! It's a ghost play--just the thing for Halloween! It's seriously tech-heavy, though so this week is already looooong. *yawn*

On the non-theatrical front, I signed another contract with Torquere today! Short story for a magic-themed anthology. It's m/m/f, rather than m/m, which was a fun change and challenge. I haven't a clue when it's coming out, and I don't actually have a title for the story yet (How lame is that?), but it's written and the contract is signed so we're well on our way.

The excerpt isn't officially edited yet, but we can all live with that for now, yes? Good! ;-)

Blurb:
Isaac and his husband Rhys are delighted when Noula Tuomi arrives in town. Noula and Isaac have been close friends and lovers for many years, and when Rhys became a part of Isaac's life, she embraced him and his relationship to her old friend without hesitation. Now, the three share company and comfort whenever she's in town. As with every visit, Isaac hopes that she'll decide stay. But Noula is a Wand'ring Minstrel. Some Minstrels do retire and some do settle down, but will Noula? And will it be this time? Each of the trio privately ponders this question, but even these heavy thoughts can't detract from their enjoyment of one another and the magic that Noula brings.

Excerpt:
Putting such heavy thoughts aside, Rhys let himself relax into the music.

He didn't know the song she played, but it hardly mattered. Noula's music was...enchanting. The notes intertwined like a tapestry growing on the loom of a master weaver. Complex, subtle, haunting. Beautiful. He'd listened closely to every Wand'ring Minstrel he had ever come across--here in Yanto, back in Western Zephren, and everywhere in between--and no one he had heard could do what Noula could do. And with such a deceptively simple instrument as a recorder.

Simple. There was nothing simple about what was happening. Colors and light that had nothing to do with the candle lanterns began to swirl slowly around the edges of his vision. Rhys sighed and leaned into his husband, resting his head on Isaac's strong shoulder. Isaac reached an arm around him, kissed him on the top of his head. For that suspended moment, everything was perfect in Rhys' world.

Subtly, the tone of the music changed. Where before it had buoyed him on pillows of flannel stuffed with the softest down, now it grew sleeker and less cozy, and yet no less welcoming. He floated on the melody, rich as silk, spicy as cinnamon, and exotic as the island paradise Noula had spoken of earlier. The music flowed over his skin and into his blood, warming it from within. The heat grew and centered itself quite deliciously in his groin, and he grew hard.

Isaac's arm around him squeezed a little tighter, and Rhys opened eyes he hadn't realized had fallen shut. The colors he had seen in the room had continued behind his eyelids, and now, as he opened them, those swirls and eddies of rainbow light were there with him in the room again, too. He turned his head and looked deep into his husband's jet black eyes, sparkling like obsidian with every flicker of light. He didn't have to look down, or reach out a hand to know that Isaac felt what he felt. Craved what he craved.

Together, they turned and looked at Noula. She played on, but a knowing and eager twinkle was in her eyes.

Wordless and as one, the three of them rose from the table and headed for the ladder to the sleeping loft. Noula played the men up, bringing the tune to a suspended end as they reached the top. Pocketing her recorder, she climbed up after them, humming as she came.

*****

And on yet another topic (because I can't seem to stay on task this morning), who's doing NaNoWriMo this year? I am once again signed up for the annual November novelling madness. This'll be my fourth year and if I win again I will frankly be astounded. We'll see. I'm just competitive enough that it could happen. I just have to decide: write the origin of Isaac and Rhys (which has been bouncing around in my head for at least a year now); or work on the second contemporary paranormal that I am so hideously stalled out on. Only time will tell.

Still in the throes of NaNoWriMo

D'you remember how I talked, in October, about my two ideas for NaNoWriMo and how, whichever one I went with, hot m/m sex would occur? . . .

Yeah. Not so much.

Okay, I did write a 3K short story that was sweet and spicey like a really good mole sauce, you know? (That one will be available for free starting sometime in December, I think. It was for Samhain's call for holiday short stories. When it's up, I'll let you know.) But the heroes of the novel I'm working on just haven't had a chance to get together yet. 51.5K words in. ::sigh:: Okay, okay. They've only known each other for, like, a week and a half. And one of them is actually working for the other on a short-term job. And they've been too busy living their individual lives to do anything more than think about the other in mildly lascivious ways. I take heart in the fact that at least each knows the other is gay. That's a start, right? I mean, at least they each know there's a chance the other might be interested in him. I'm also taking heart in the fact that I passed 50K on this puppy without having to pad my word count with sex. That's pretty surprising, frankly, and I'm a bit proud of it. But still... WHERE'S THE SEX, BOYS? Honestly. I have got to get this damned ghost moved along its etherial path so that Ben and Todd can finally get it on.

And my CP thinks this is going to turn out to be the first of a series? Gods help us all.

Drive-by Posting

I'm plugging away on my NaNoWriMo novel, or NaNovel as I like to call it for simplicity's sake. Gay paranormal investigators based in Seattle. So far there has been some rain, a little baseball, and a whole lot of coffee. But sadly no sex yet. I'm a little disappointed in my MMCs. I trust they'll get there eventually, but right now, with the whole business relationship thing, MMC1 feels it would be unprofessional to ask MMC2 out. Dear me and damn his ethics any way.

23,637 words and counting...

NaNoWriMo 2008 Looms

Between the cold from hell and tech week, my life has been little more than sleep, cold meds, and musical theatre for the past week and a half. Sadly this has left little to no time or brainpower for m/m diversions. However, I'm taking my Vitamin C and looking ahead to the annual creative insanity that is NaNoWriMo. This will be my third year participating and I'm hoping to be a three-peat winner. I'm also hoping that this year, like 2006 and The Ballad of Jimothy Redwing, I will turn out something publishable. (I haven't yet tried selling the m/m novel I wrote for NaNo 2007; it's still with the betas.) I have two story ideas bouncing around in my head like tennis balls in a clothes dryer:

My fantasy universe with two new heroes – a Marthan priest and his healer/naturist lover – with Jimothy and Ricky as a secondary storyline, all dealing with a border dispute between the Rabbinical Diocese (yes, you read that right) and some Dusitan farmers encroaching on their land

and/or

A departure for me – a contemporary paranormal story about a team of ghost hunters who are hired by a coffee shop owner who thinks that the ghost haunting his Classic 1963 VW Beetle is expanding its territory to his home and business. There will undoubtedly be comedy to be found here. I can already tell that the gear guy for the company is a bit of a goof.

Needless to say in either case, hot m/m sex will occur. ;->

It's as likely as not that I'll end up writing on both over the course of the month. Hey, whatever it takes to reach that 50,000 word mark, right? Still, I'd love to hear what you think about these potential stories. Which, if either, appeals more to you as a reader?

NaNoWriMo Madness

Recently I read somewhere that 2008 will be NaNoWriMo's 10th anniversary. For those not in the know, NaNoWriMo is 'net speak for "National Novel Writing Month." Basically you try to write a 50,000 word novel in one month's time, beginning November 1st and (hopefully) ending November 30th.

Though I had heard of NaNoWriMo before, last year was my first attempt at it. I succeeded, much to my own surprise, and had a lot of fun in the process. This year I couldn't afford to take a whole month off my writing schedule to work on a new novel (I have a short story series slated for release next year and wanted to get as much of that out of the way as I could), so I decided to focus on writing 50k worth of the interrelated stories for my series.

The one question I get a lot when I mention NaNoWriMo is, what do you win? The short answer of it ~ nothing. Not a damn thing. But I gain the knowledge that I can write 50k in one month's time, that I have the drive, determination, and discipline to do so, particularly during a month as hectic (at least here in the USA) as November.

As of today, I'm just over 11,500 words. I finished one short story in four days and am nearing completion on the second. My goal is a total of 7-8 short stories roughly 6,000 to 7,000 words in length. This should give me the 50k mark to "win" NaNoWriMo again this year.

Since this is my first post to the "Slash & Burn" blog (thank you, guys, for having me!), here is an excerpt that I wrote this morning (unedited, so go easy on me). For those new to the characters, Vic gains a variety super powers from his lover Matt during sex. Their position during the deed determine what power he gets. This story is part of an upcoming series entitled The Positions of Love, to be published by Amber Allure. Book one will be released in December.

In the excerpt below, Vic and Matt are leaving an expensive steakhouse late at night on Valentine's Day. Their friskiness before dinner has given Vic pyrotechnic abilities ... in effect, he can conjure fireworks from his fingertips. They're leaving the restaurant and are in the parking lot heading for their car ...

"I want to see the sparks again," Matt muttered.

Vic's arm slid around his waist to hug him tight. "Oh, sparks will fly tonight," he promised, nuzzling against Matt's black curls.

His lover snickered. At Vic's car, Matt turned to lean back against the passenger side door before Vic could open it for him. Grabbing Vic's lapels with both hands, Matt pulled him down for a warm, wet kiss. Their bodies meshed together against the cold metal door, and Vic had to place his hands against the icy window to keep from falling into Matt. His lover's breath was combustible, his kiss alcoholic. Thrusting his hips into Vic's, Matt licked the roof of Vic's mouth as if dinner hadn't been enough to satisfy his hunger. "Love me," he murmured against Vic's lips. "Right here."

It was so hard to say no. "Soon," Vic tried -- the key in his hand scraped along the side of his car door, seeking the lock.

When it slid into place, Vic gave into Matt's kiss, forgetting the key and the restaurant and whoever might be watching them in the darkened parking lot. A shower of sparks shot from Vic's hands, warming the night around them. Matt's tongue and lips only fueled the electricity in Vic's system, cranking it up notch after notch until all Vic heard was the sizzle erupting from his fingers. He smelled burning metal and singed fabric, and could feel the sparkling tingle like waves of electrical current washing over him, bursting from his extremities. His fingers were full of power, his feet tickled with it, even his dick danced in his briefs, spurred by Matt's kiss, his hands, his own sheathed erection pressing into Vic's crotch. Like Frankenstein's monster, every inch of Vic came alive at his lover's touch.

After an eternity, Matt released him with a breathless giggle. "Talk about sparks," he murmured, wiping his lower lip with one finger. "Open the door for me?"

Vic moved to comply, only to find the key soldered into the lock. The metal had melted together during the heat of their kiss. Stepping away from the car, Vic looked at his hands and for the first time saw blackened nails, reddened skin. The cuffs of his blazer and the shirt beneath it were singed and fraying, some threads still smoldering. Vic glanced at his feet and saw the nail of one big toe winking up at him through the top of his charred shoe.

Matt started to laugh.

"Cute," Vic grumbled. "This was my best suit."

"Look at this," his lover said, poking at Vic's crotch.

Matt's fingers wiggled into Vic's groin, and he caught the hand before it could go any farther. "That's what got me so heated up in the first place."

"No," Matt told him. "Look."

Vic glanced down and groaned as he turned his back to the restaurant. A neat little hole the size of a cigarette burn had been seared into the crotch of his pants to the right of his zipper. Vic could see the pink tip of his cock through the hole, and Matt seemed unable to keep from touching it. His forefinger worked its way into the hole, rubbing over Vic's dick, tearing the fabric more. "Hey Sparky," Matt purred, leaning against Vic as his hands rubbed at his lover's crotch. "Got a light?"

For more Vic & Matt, please visit my website. Two e-books in a related series, The Powers of Love, are now available.