Beyond Duty
In The Edge of Desperation
by James Buchanan
E-book and Print available through MLR Press
Buy Link: e-Book http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-theedgeofdesperation-16233-145.html

Print: http://www.amazon.com/Edge-Desperation-James-Buchanan/dp/1608200426/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1240774464&sr=1-1


Over what can love and lust win? Can they win over betrayal? Espionage? Instability? Overthrowing a monarchy? James Buchanan and Jason Edding bring us two stories spanning the universe. Jason continues the Dark Robe Society's story; Jack and Edge return and bring each other and us to the edge again while Toren and Tees share more than a common goal. James introduces us to Alad and Hirah, both out searching for something when they meet, are they the end of searching for each other? All the heroes are on an edge, but is it The Edge of Desperation?

Excerpt:

Nealgalt, Xuyi Sector
Quad Cycle 4, Pay Cycle 6, Patrol 4, Day 36
18:65hours army-standard


Gray mist undulated around him and Alad hunkered into his greatcoat, cursing the government, the military, the enemy, religion and pretty much anyone else he could blame for stranding him on this rock in the skanky armpit of the far side of the universe. He'd beg for sun, but none existed here, at least not in this season. Perpetual overcast served up with sides of absolute darkness and intermittent twilight haunted his days. He'd be so stoked when he found a ride off this shit-pit.

Alad stepped from slick twisted root to twisted root, a winding, treacherous and living shortcut from one ramshackle walkway to another. Things slithered through the oily water below. Tumbledown bars, whorehouses and low rent lodgings twisted off in dizzying directions, their location due more to where infrequent patches of solid land could be found than actual planning. All of it castoff MDU and MTO prefabs destined for the scrap heap, salvaged and pressed into service to make up the eyesore known as Desperation Alley—the no-man's land between base and the up-rank civilian settlements. Missing panels patched by biopolymer sheets added off-color dissonance to the grays and muted blue buildings. Shadows flitted behind window openings covered with NatuResin tarps. Here and there, outmoded and damaged shipping containers served as pod barracks: racks of one-bod and two-bod bunks bracketed floor to ceiling for those too drunk or burning to stumble back to base.

Above him, a canopy of steel blue foliage almost three stadion deep hid the makers of all the various scurrying sounds. Large trunks, bleached white by the salts sucked up through the water, supported networks of vines and explosions of flora in colors the human eye couldn't even register. The whole planet washed out into a charcoal rendering of actual living things. Rotting organic material tainted the air with an ever present miasma of decay. Yesterday was spent searching for companies that would have him and his men. The standard hours akin to daylight today dwindled away in the same futile quest and Alad figured tomorrow would dawn on him humping his ass to various commands. Not even a hint of a future appointment graced his horizon. If he didn't land something soon, well he'd have no choice but to tell his men to split up, try to find a rack on their own with some squad down a couple of grunts. Trying to place an entire patrol… hard didn't begin to encompass the problem. Xosh, at this point if some other sergeant expressed interest in his boys, Alad would have gladly let them go on without him.

He'd traded half a month's pay off the bar-code scan in his forearm for a third of a month's pay in local trade chits on the black-market. Alad needed them to buy off information brokers in the cumshaw data pool. Really, if he hadn't needed any lead possible, there was no way he'd step into Desperation Alley right now. All the good tips though, they came out of the scuttlebutt haze floating through taprooms, dice dens and sex parlors.

Alad stepped onto the plank walkway that comprised the misnamed Mandera Blossom Highway and huffed. Various beings, each more disreputable than the next, passed him. Alad debated whether to start the search first or fortify himself with the local version of rot-gut to file the edge off the eventual disappointment. Shoving his hands into the pocket of his greatcoat, he stepped into the flow of traffic and let it sweep him towards the quasi-legal establishments.

Heading toward him and away from Desperation Alley, Alad caught sight of another human. Not that humans were uncommon in this area—pisk, they made up sixty percent of the military troops in the region—but by now most were stationed on bar stools or slop shop benches and planning the night's entertainment.

This guy seemed different. Tall, whip crack lean, his shoulders rolled in a resigned, but still defiant, manner. Black hair shorn in military fashion, longish on top, but buzzed so short it barely rated as fuzz in a halo from above his ears to his neck line, marked him as infantry—what they called the collar cut so that neck armor wouldn't rub. It set off features so sharp a man could cut himself on his chin. His eyes damn near glowed blue-white like eons old ice flows. All the more striking when contrasted with the cinnamon tones of his skin. A cold and reserved air blew off the man… must have been what kept his pupils from melting.

Alad hadn't seen anything that enticing in six patrols.

Waffling, unsure, he paused. He couldn't let his troops down, but xosh, it'd been almost a cycle since Alad allowed himself any real R&R. A little booze-up followed by a little naked bust-up, Alad got hard just working the possibility. The man approached, completely absorbed in whatever drove him from the Alley. Three steps. Two steps. If Alad didn't act soon opportunity would pass him up. As the man started to walk by, Alad decided; he jerked to the side and bumped the man's shoulder. The man stumbled on the slick planks, running up onto the roots of one of the many Handoatoa trees.

"Sorry," Alad mumbled, even though he wasn't a bit remorseful, and offered a hand.

The indignation boiling through those ice blue eyes radiated such frost it burned. After glaring for a moment, the man took the proffered grip and allowed Alad to help him back onto the walkway. Everything from about mid-thigh down dripped water. Shudo! Alad had forgotten that Handoatoa tended to act like sponges and purged sucked up swamp at the slightest bruise.

"You need to watch where you walk," the man spat, "subin!"

No telling who this man was. His bearing, even under insufferable circumstances of being knocked into morass of vomited up swamp water, spoke to rank. Nobody however, except the greenest of the green, wore their confetti into Desperation Alley. Too much of a chance someone would roll you for the decorations. Unwritten protocol dictated that no one asked who was who, either. The most anyone traded over was a first name.

"Yeah, I'm clumsy." He grimaced in mock apology. "Alad," offering up his name as greeting equaled the first tentative step. "Let me buy you a drink to apologize for the damp boots," made up the second.

A hard once over ran up and down Alad's body, those ice colored eyes somehow burning into his gut. "A drink?" This time the words sounded more incredulous than antagonistic. The guy's nostrils flared as if taking in Alad's scent. As the air moved, a slight fluttering of the skin on the right side of the man's nose caught his attention. Xosh, a notch had been cut out of the nasal fold. Alad shivered despite the greatcoat.

Still, the black haired soldier—Alad knew he was a soldier—reeked sex… or maybe fight-lust. Both equaled about the same to Alad. "Yeah, a drink." Pretending indifference, Alad turned his eyes away. He drew in a deep breath, touched his index finger to his left cheek and slowly brushed it toward his ear. "To apologize for being… clumsy." The thumb up the bridge of your nose meant you were indiscriminate about your choice of partners. Pinky on your right eye and you wanted the opposite sex. Alad had indicated he wouldn't be opposed to a hookup with this man, in a way that let everyone pretend nobody suggested anything about sex. Nobody cared about your choice in partners. Saving face in the event of a refusal though, everybody cared about that.


Buy Link: e-Book http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-theedgeofdesperation-16233-145.html
Print: http://www.amazon.com/Edge-Desperation-James-Buchanan/dp/1608200426/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1240774464&sr=1-1

Round Robin XXII

Last part here


“What do you want to hear? That I’ve been selling my ass on the streets since I was sixteen?”

Cole knew Matthew was trying to provoke him, probably into tossing him out and validating Matthew’s twisted view of humanity. Cole had steeled himself for hearing something like that, but the rush of anger—not at Matthew—but at whoever had forced him to that was still surprising. In as mild a tone as he could manage, Cole said, “You could start with tonight. Do you know why those kids came after you?”

Matthew shook his head, but Cole just waited. Finally Matthew shrugged. “I thought Tyler might have sent them.”

“Who’s Tyler?”

“I thought he was my boyfriend.” Matthew gave a hollow laugh. “You’d think I’d have learned something. Turns out I was just his whore. He said he’d give me money if I just disappeared and didn’t tell anyone. He was supposed to meet me.”

“This Tyler have a last name?”

Matthew fixed Cole with a steady gaze as if daring him to doubt what he was going to say. “Bronson.”

“Holy shit.” Cole thought he’d been ready for anything. Bronson. You couldn’t live in this town and not know that name. Hell of a family to cross. Money, yeah. But Tyler’s uncle was a U.S Senator and his father—Oh shit.

“I’m guessing that you mean the Tyler Bronson whose dad is the head of PureLife Ministries. The one with the conversion camps for gays.”

“Bingo.” But Matthew’s voice was shaky and he couldn’t hold the smile.

Round Robin Part XXI

Part XX here

Matthew swallowed hard, stalling for time, trying to clear the unexpected knot from his vocal chords. When he did, the result wasn't anything he'd expected to say. "How does a guy who runs an art supply store get such ripped abs?"

Cole laughed and Matthew could feel his cheeks flushing. What the fuck? He didn't blush! He'd given that up at the age of eight when getting caught kissing his best friend—his male best friend—behind the swing set on the school playground hadn't brought even a hint of embarrassment. Fortunately, the teaching assistant who'd caught them had shrugged it off as innocent curiosity and never told his aunt and uncle. A rare stroke of luck in Matthew's life.

"I don't know if you've heard," Cole said, his laughter calmed to a small chuckle, "but they have these places called gyms. Anyone can join. It's amazing."

Matthew tried to pass off his blunder with his old blustering front. Even to his own ears, it fell flat. A lame imitation of his street-savvy persona. "Didn't take you for a gym kind of guy."

This time Cole's mirth was nowhere evident. "You've made a lot of mistaken assumptions about me." He headed back towards his bedroom, and Matthew was sorry to think he'd be covering up those muscles with clothing. Although he was willing to bet Cole would look just as hot in jeans and a tight, white t-shirt. Sure it was cliché, but there was a reason the image endured.

"You want some more coffee?" Matthew asked before Cole disappeared behind his door.

Cole shot him a quirk of a smile that Matthew couldn't read. Damn it! What was it about Cole that sent to shit all his well-honed skills at reading people?

"My mug's on the bathroom counter. Thanks."

Wondering exactly when he'd been domesticated—and why he liked it so fucking much—Matthew retrieved the mug and returned with it to the kitchen. He refilled it, poured himself a coffee, and sat at the table to drink it. The kitchen was like something out of one of those home magazines his aunt always had scattered on the coffee table. The sunshine pouring through the window in the little dining nook turned the creamy walls a cheerful yellow and reflected brightly off the stainless steel appliances. The wall over the sink and behind the range were inlayed with painted tiles. The trim around the top of the walls was painted dark blue. It was a bachelor's kitchen, all right, but a clean and cozy one. Matthew imagined what it would be like to watch Cole cooking. Matthew would lean a shoulder against the fridge and Cole would be at the stove, stirring pots of pasta sauce or something, and they'd talk about their days like people did on TV shows. A smile curved the corner of his mouth, and then his lips turned down just as suddenly. Domestic bliss was not Matthew's strong suit. And once he'd given up those answers Cole had asked for, there wasn't much chance Cole would let him finish his coffee, let alone stay for dinner.

"You find some breakfast?"

Cole's voice in the doorway snapped Matthew from his thoughts. The t-shirt he wore was blue, not white, but the jeans were as tight as Matthew had hoped. He hid his interest behind his coffee mug. "Didn't look."

"No? If it were me, I'd've been snooping all through the cupboards. I'm starving." Cole picked up his coffee and with his free hand opened a cabinet. "Cereal okay? Or there's bread if you want toast."

Matthew's guts twisted. The friendly chatter, the host and guest routine they were playing… It was all a sham and he was disgusted with both himself and Cole for perpetuating it. "Quit it."

"Quit what?"

"I'm not stupid. You're jerking me around. You want answers? I'll tell you. But don't act like we're all buddy-buddy and shit."

Cole turned to him and leaned one hip against the counter, his quest for food abandoned. His expression was cool. "You're still all about mistaken assumptions. But okay. Talk."

Round Robin Part XX

I think I have the number correct. It's been years since I've dealt with roman numerals ^-^
I hope everyone is having a great week so far (yeah, I know it's only Monday, but I can hope, right?). And happy belated Mother's Day to those who are mothers.
This isn't really long, but I'm busy with edits and housework. Good combo, huh? So this was a nice little break.

Part XIV here

Matthew watched Cole walk away. Holy shit! He couldn’t look away, his gaze glued to the ripple of muscle as every graceful step took him away. And that ass. Its smooth round, fullness called to be caressed and worshiped. Not to mention the hard cock the other side of his body sported.

When the bathroom door shut, Matthew realized his mouth hung open and he’d stopped breathing. Shaking away the stunned response, Cole’s words sunk in.

Answers.

He had two options and he knew he had to choose one quickly. He could take off now. There was a bus stop not quite a mile away. He’d made note of passing it last night. This choice had him moving on with his life, wherever it may lead him, despite the screwed up happenings the past couple of days. Living a lonely and often dangerous life hustling for money or whatever he could get, because going back to his aunt and uncle was completely out of the question. Of course, taking that route also had him never seeing Cole again or exploring these outlandish emotions the man brought forth.

His other choice was to stay and answer whatever questions Cole asked. Not a pleasant thought, which made leaving very tempting. So what was holding him here?

The kiss.

Matthew knew it but wasn’t quite ready to fully admit it just yet. Remembering how it felt to have Cole’s tongue devouring his mouth with the promise of much more was more than Matthew’s poor deprived mind could accept. He still shook with the need for more when he thought of how unselfish Cole had been to him in the store, giving him pleasure, yet not taking any for himself. Were there really men that noble in the world? Or was Cole a one of a kind?

Apparently, Matthew took too long to make his decision when the bathroom door opened and Cole stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist and drops of water falling from his hair to slide down that gloriously muscled chest. His fingers flexed as he held back the urge to reach out and trail the water’s path as it traveled down over lickable abs.

“Still here I see.” Cole’s lips twitched as if he was trying to suppress a smile.

Just what every mother wants on Mother's Day...

A little gay porn! I've got two nice little releases just in time for Mom's Day.

The first is Chrome, a collection of short stories all focusing around one shiny orange Fiat. Three little stories follow the car through its life and its different owners who all have a couple of things in common: they're boys, they like other boys, and they like the gleam and glitter of chrome. Check it out, it's an easy and fun read for only $2.49.

The second story is a re-write and re-release from an anthology a few years back, but I overhauled it and now it's available as a standalone. Ethereal is a quick, hot little read about what happens when a nursing student discovers a patient in his hospital is unconscious and beautiful. Jordan brings home stories to his lover Scott, and the two of them heat up their love life a bit with fantasies of the mysterious patient. Fast and hot with a bit of naughty thrown in, what more could you want for $1.29?

And! Just because I love you, through tonight at midnight (EST), get 15% off your purchases at Torquere Press.

The coupon code is mom09 and is good on all Torquere Press ebooks purchased at www.torquerebooks.com from now until midnight (est) Sunday May 10, 2009. Have fun!

And thanks, Mom. <3

To Tweet Or Not To Tweet... That is the question.

Yeah, I'm on Twitter. Not entirely sure why, but eh, it's morbidly fascinating.

I'm still not sure on the allure of the site, to be honest. It's not as intensive as a blog or MySpace or Facebook (or any other networking site). The trick is finding something relatively interesting to say in less than 140 characters. I'm still trying to figure THAT one out.

One thing I do enjoy, though, is finding out who is following me there. A lot of folks find me via LJ, I'm sure, but more, I think, find me via simply searching on Twitter. WHAT they're using in terms of keywords, I haven't the foggiest clue, but it's interesting.

So, what about y'all? Do you twitter? Or, like me, are you still wondering what the whole thing is about?

Round Robin XIX

Late but here ya go! Short though. Busy, busy day.

------------------------------------------------------

He woke up to the smell of coffee. Cole cracked an eye open and immediately snapped it shut again when light stabbed him in the retina. Okay, opening his eyes, not an option. But who the hell was making coffee in his house? Cole wracked his brain, wondering if loneliness had finally sent him running into an anonymous fuck or something when a face formed behind his eyelids.

Blond hair. Blue eyes. Round, tight ass. Oh yeah, he remembered now. Turning his head away from the sunlight, Cole opened his eyes again and climbed out of bed. His foot caught in something and he found his rumpled clothes on the floor. Cole had a second to realize that he was feeling the sun's warmth directly on his skin when his bedroom door, already cracked, nudged all the way open.

"Hey Cole, are you aw...oh." Cole snapped his head up at the sound of Matthew's voice and found the younger man's gaze a good deal south of Cole's face. Lean fingers held Cole's favorite mug in a sudden death grip.

A million thoughts shot through Cole's head accompanied by a million actions. Everything from pulling his clothes on to pulling Matthew on his bed and getting him just as naked as he was...but that couldn't happen. He wanted it, shit, his dick was awake and there was no way to hide it.

But with the memory of Matthew came the other memories. So Cole, faking a nonchalance he wasn't even close to really having, walked up to Matthew and gently pried his hot coffee mug from Matthew's fingers.

Wide blue eyes, glazed with hard fought interest, met his. "Cole..." Need wrapped around his name, wrapped around his dick.

Cole took a swallow of coffee and barely felt the burn. "I need a shower." He sipped a little more cautiously this time if only to keep his mouth occupied. Otherwise, he was going to kiss the life out of the pouty mouth right across from him. "And then I think it's time for those answers."

Free M/M Read from Leigh Ellwood

UPDATE: In my haste to make this post, I forgot to post date it for my day to post, which is Saturday. I apologize for intruding on somebody else's day.

Also it was pointed out to me that the link to the book isn't working. It is fixed.

Best, Leigh

As part of an earlier Cinco de Mayo promotion with Phaze Books, I wrote A Daring Twist to distribute as a free read. This short is part of Dareville and M/M erotic - it serves as a prologue of sorts to part of Dare to Dream and the upcoming Daring Red. As far as the universe goes, it's set around the time of Truth or Dare, and more will be explained with the next book. Anyway, hope you like it.

In the meantime, I'm waiting to hear about my membership to the Rainbow Romance Writers chapter of RWA. Fingers crossed.

Round Robin part XVIII

At least I think I got the number right *g*

This is gonna be VERY short, but hopefully coherent LOL. I'm behind on my deadline, as per usual, so trying to get more wordage in tonight. Here goes...

*******

Matthew stood rooted to the spot, an uncomfortable mixture of gratitude and guilt roiling in his gut. Ever since Cole had rescued him, he'd tried to tell himself he didn't care what Cole thought of him. So why the fuck did it take Cole getting pissed off at him for him to realize he did care after all?

Cole reached the Dodge, stopped and shot Matthew an impatient look. "You coming, or what?"

Shit. Matthew swallowed. "Yeah, I'm coming."

He crossed to the car on legs that shook all of a sudden. Cole was already buckled behind the wheel and had the car going by the time Matthew slid into the passenger seat.

They rode in silence for what felt like ages. Several times, Matthew started to speak, then thought better of it. The brooding anger comig from Cole in palpable waves defeated him. Besides, what was there to say? Cole had made it pretty clear where Matthew stood with him.

The really confusing part was, Matthew liked it. He liked that Cole had refused to fuck him, and he liked even more that Cole had laid down the law and told him that if he wanted anything more than a place to crash for the night, he was going to have to give up some of his closely-held secrets.

The relief Matthew felt at the thought of telling Cole his secrets surprised him.

When they pulled up in front of a small house sheltered by huge oak trees, Matthew laid a hand on Cole's arm. "Okay."

Cole looked at him. "Okay what?"

Matthew took a deep breath and blew it out. "Okay, you'll get your answers."

"Good." Cole smiled, and the sight of it made Matthew's stomach flutter. "In the morning. Come on."

Matthew climbed out of the car and followed Cole up the short walkway to the cottage he evidently called home. A yawn nearly split Matthew's skull in half. After the attack, the scare with the cops and the mind-blowing orgasm he'd just had, followed by his decision to tell Cole the truth -- or selected parts of it -- he was exhausted.

He'd decide exactly how much to tell Cole after he'd slept for about twelve hours.

Artsy Friday

Woohoo! The weekend is here! And for your Friday enjoyment, I thought I'd share a drawing I've been working on for a while. Most of my work tends to be made digitally these days, or at least drawn on paper first and then painted in Photoshop, but I love working with color pencils.

Adam

19"x25"
pencils

Not quite writing related

For anyone in SoCal Metro Hell area..

Both my SG and I ID as BI so I want to pass this along:

LA BI CENTER KICKOFF

PartyMay 16th, 20097-10pm
labicenter.org

With the LA Bi Center Kickoff, we'll be jump-starting bi-related activities in the Southern California area while gauging interest in a variety of possible upcoming projects and events. Regional and National Bi leaders will be updating local Bisexual, LGBT and Straight community organizers on the new visibility, political action and cultural renewal happening in LA for the Bisexual community.

Come meet others, re-acquaint with old friends, meet new ones and participate in building bridges for future work together! Please bring Flyers and Brochures from your organizations or community effort, we'll have plenty for you as well.

Thanks for any considerations, and please visit labicenter.org for even more information.

Round Robin XVII

Me again? Sorry this is short. My own characters are noisy enough to drown almost everything else out.


Previously. (Do check that out. It's worth a second read. Zoe's scene was hot!)

Cole went into the tiny bathroom and locked the door. Just telling his dick to calm down wasn’t working. He hung onto the sink and took care of himself in a business like fashion ignoring the tentative knocks on the door.

Why did he give a shit about what some random kid thought? What the hell had he been thinking to turn down what had been offered?

His orgasm blotted everything out for a brief, blissful moment, and then his ringing ears picked up Matthew’s voice.

“Look. Thanks and all that. But…the rain stopped and I think it’s better if I just take off.”

Not even bothering to zip up, Cole yanked open the door. “You’re not going anywhere--except to my house. To sleep. That’s all. We clear?”

Matthew gaped at him before nodding. His cocksure, streetwise veneer had cracked, revealing a touch of vulnerability.

Cole was too tired to go digging, even if he might get an honest answer this time.

Matthew respected the shift in Cole’s moods, and they pulled on their still damp shirts in silence. Cole shut off all the lights and set the alarms, pulled down the gate. After opening the back door, he looked at Matthew in the streetlight.

“So everything has a price, right?”

Matthew shrugged.

“Here’s mine. You can sleep at my place and take off tomorrow if that’s what you really want. No charge. But if you want breakfast, you want to do something besides sleep? Then I want some answers.”

Matthew started to say something but Cole held up his hand.

“Right now I don’t want to hear anything but the sound of my own snores.” Cole jerked his chin at his car. “It’s that Dodge, there under the light. “ He started for the car without looking back to see if Matthew was following.

New Release and New Contract!

Sorry not to continue the round-robin again (esp. after that last, smokin' round that Zoe posted), but...

The Ballad of Jimothy Redwing is IN PRINT TODAY! Woo-hoo!

New lover. New city. New dangers.

Wand’ring Minstrel Jimothy Redwing is used to life on the road, living by the words and music that are his stock in trade. While he’s comfortable finding his way alone, he’s always amenable to a friendly stranger who knows the lay of the land. Ricky Lennox is smart, funny, handsome, and very amenable.

With a place to stay, a sexy new lover, and some local contacts, Jimothy looks forward to delivering the letters in his care—including a message for the local ruler—and earning a little money with his music before moving on.

Ricky’s declaration he’s interested in more than just a one-night tryst starts Jimothy thinking about settling into a life of perfect harmony. But things hit a sour note when he learns his lover’s true identity—and exactly what’s in the epistle to Kanbec’s ruler.

Jimothy’s journey turns out to be far more complicated than he could have dreamed, and as dangerous as any epic ballad. For himself—and for Ricky.

Warning: This book contains a sexy musician, hot nekkid manlove, violence, and nuns dressed in blue.

And as if that weren't enough, I sold another manuscript! Whee! Same universe. Same country. Same genre. Different publisher. I don't have a release date or anything as definite as that yet. I just sent the contract back last week and I'm trying to be patient. (I suck at patient.) But I had to share my good news and... a blurb!

~~~

Client Privileges (assuming the title sticks ;) )

On the surface, Jonas Vaneau's life is ordinary. He works at the law courts during the day, spends Sabbath night with his parents and every other night with his cat, and tolerates the unending string of single women his mother invites to Sabbath dinner. But his routine life cannot provide what he most desires—at least not as long as he must continue to pretend to be the person his overbearing parents want him to be.

An unusual encounter with a seemingly ordinary brothel client causes Micah Hartshorn considerable consternation. When Jonas inexplicably breezes past his emotional defenses, Micah finds himself involved in a drama that is far beyond anything for which his professional skills have prepared him. Solving this new puzzle isn't in his plans—especially not when he has his own issues to deal with both at home and at work.

All personal problems are swept up in political unrest when new laws threaten both men's livelihoods. When even greater troubles send Jonas's world spinning beyond his control, it's up to Micah to save him from his downward spiral—if he can.

What future can Jonas and Micah hope to find together in a city turned against them?

Warning: This book contains drinking, language, violence, m/m sex, politics, and organized religion; legalized prostitution; nine-year-old civil rights activists; and foreign food.

Home Sweet Home

I attended the RT Convention in Orlando, FL this past week and had a really great time. However, it's even better to be home. :) (though slightly behind on everything).
This was my first year at RT and was a bit overwhelmed at first. So many things to do, so many people to meet - put faces to names finally - and such hot eye-candy to see. *drool* Tory is right...the men loved having their pictures taken and to flirt. *Sigh* Not to mention the bags of books and promo goodies I brought home. Still gotta sort through all of that and can't wait to get to the reading of the books.
And yes, I had the pleasure of meeting and contributing to some of Tory's intoxication Thursday night. :P Who knew that Butterscotch martinis were so delicious. I had a couple myself as a splurge. But then pair Tory with Chris Owen...and I could tell right off they were trouble with a capital T. *LOL* I hope you guys had fun at Disney and not kidnapped by some hottie pirates. ;)
Oh, and I met Leigh Ellwood. That woman is my hero with all that she does.
I also found the owners of Torquere Press very entertaining and a joy to be around.
All in all, I learned a lot about the industry. And the writers and others I met and spent some time with were all nice and a pleasure to speak with. I'm not sure I'll be able to attend next year, but I definitely want to attend another RT in the future.
Now I'm off to try and get caught up with all the stuff I blew off last week.

Aaah, eye-candy! He's just as hunky as the Mr. Romance competators.

Good morning, Slash and Burners! Coming to you from central Florida, where I'm attending the Romantic Times conference in Orlando. Today we're off to spend the day at Disney World, but I wanted to stop in quickly and say hi and that the conference is going very well. I had the extreme pleasure of meeting fellow blogger Marty Rayne at the Faery Ball on Thursday night, and she endeared herself to me forever by buying me a very expensive drink. I owe her big time. :D Also, she is lovely and sweet and makes fabulous promo bracelet things.

I've learned much about the industry here, including the fact that people will do and say anything to get ahead, and I'm fortunate enough to have a publisher that pays me well and pays me on time. I also learned that the Mr. Romance contestants are willing to pose with other Mr. Romance contestants for the sheer pleasure of taking their picture together. Thanks, Mr. Romance contestants! Keep on keepin' on.

Time to go! Since I'm actually on West Coast time and it's 4:40 a.m. on my internal clock, I hope we're planning to make a Starbucks run. Happy Sunday, lovelies.