Out now: COLLIDE by Riley Hart

My friend and “work in progress” co-author Riley Hart kicks off her gay romance debut with a sweet small-town first-in series about two boyhood friends who reconnect as adults. I was lucky enough to beta read this one and really enjoyed it:

Available at: AmazonB&N|  Add it to your Goodreads TBR



At ten years old, Noah Jameson and Cooper Bradshaw collided mid-air when they dove for the same football. For three years, they were inseparable…until one day when Noah and his parents disappeared in the middle of the night.

Noah and Cooper never knew what happened to each other. Now, seventeen years later, after finding his boyfriend in bed with another man, Noah returns to Blackcreek looking for a fresh start. And damned if he doesn’t find his old friend grew up to be sexy as sin. Coop can’t believe Noah—the only person he trusted with the guilt over his parents’ death—is back. And gay… Or that Cooper himself suddenly wants another man in his bed for the first time.

There’s no denying the attraction and emotion between them, but can they overcome the ghosts of their pasts to have a future together?

Available at: Amazon| B&N|  Add it to your Goodreads TBR

Follow Riley on Twiiter

Friend Riley on Facebook

Comment from Ellis: There’s a bittersweet note about the gorgeous cover on this book. The photographer who shot the cover photo, Jackson Photographix, announced on his Facebook page a few days ago that one of the models in the picture was killed by a drunk driver in Alberta. As it turns out, Brennan was a creative guy who made most of the furniture in his own home – very much like Noah, one of the heroes in Riley’s book. It strikes me as a heartbreaking bit of kismet. I’m so sorry to hear of his passing.

Out Today! Forbidden Love

My Mayan mythology novella re-releases today! W00hoo! This was my first standalone gay romance release, and I still adore this book. Your first is always special. I reclaimed the rights so that I could update the cover art (I love this new cover so much I wanna cry, people), clean up a few typos that always bugged me, and – very important – lower the price!

It’s available now on Amazon, B&N, and Kobo . Please do check it out if you haven’t already, and I hope you enjoy. 🙂

Cover art by Pickyme

About Forbidden Love: Get it at Amazon  | B&N| Kobo |  Add to your Goodreads List

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

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


They were plodding carefully through a large corridor of stalactites and stalagmites that gave the appearance of a giant shark’s mouth, when Jacob stepped absently and slipped. Pakal grabbed Jacob from behind, just narrowly preventing him from being impaled on the business end of a sharp, vertically jutting piece of rock. Many a tourist had landed at the nearby clinic for such accidents.


“I warned you to be careful where you stepped. It’s slippery in here.” Pakal’s breath was heavy, and he was panting right in Jacob’s ear. His heart thudded against the thinner man’s back. Their bodies vibrated together as if they shared the same skin. They were dangling over a great precipice just then, and for the life of him Pakal was too caught up in the thrill to truly care about the consequences. He tightened his grip around Jacob’s naked waist and his light slipped from his fingers into the water. It was stupid. It was dangerous.

It was too late.

The thought was interesting, but fleeting, as Pakal’s hand dipped inside of Jacob’s loose, surfer-style swim shorts.

“Holy Jesus. What are you doing?” The words held a note of obligatory protest, but even as he said them, Jacob’s ass pushed into Pakal’s crotch, and his forearm and head came to rest against the curve of the cave wall. Both men breathed heavily, totally in sync.

“Keep it down,” Pakal whispered. Gods, Jacob’s cock was smooth. Deliciously soft and hard at the same time. “You’re so tense. I’m helping you to loosen up.”

Jacob’s breath hitched. “Someone could come by here any minute.” Yet even as he said it, his hard length fucked faster into Pakal’s wet fist. His dick was perfect against Pakal’s skin; it was long and thin, with only a small amount of soft hair at the base. Pakal’s fingers strayed for a moment to roll Jacob’s weighty sac in his hand, and he longed to feel it inside of his mouth.

“Better be fast, then,” Pakal breathed.

Jacob’s skin was warm and salty, with a hint of sunscreen against Pakal’s tongue as it trailed a path from behind Jacob’s ear down the side of his neck. He paused for only the slightest moment when his lips brushed a silver necklace out of the way and found a small, puffy line of scar tissue underneath. He kissed the spot and moved on, sucking and biting over Jacob’s shoulder blade as he stroked harder and faster.

“Oh, God.” Jacob’s breathing sped up and got ragged and, thank the gods, the guy was close because distant voices and splashes from deep within the cave were slowly coming nearer, and Pakal couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Jesus, Pakal.”

“Better hurry,” he murmured, nipping at Jacob’s earlobe.

Coming soon: Collide by Riley Hart

I’m actually reading this book RIGHT NOW, folks, so I’m super excited to announce this one. Coming soon from my author buddy Riley Hart is a sweet and sexy love story called Collide. “Gay for you” / out for you romance fans will especially enjoy. This is Riley’s debut gay romance novel, and she’s awesome. In fact, she and I totally hit it off at an industry conference and our writing styles dovetail nicely so we’ve currently got a really fun collaboration in the works. More on that later.

So check out this amazing cover for COLLIDE! The cover photo is by Jackson Photographix and the cover design is by B Design. Aren’t these guys gorgeous!?!



At ten years old, Noah Jameson and Cooper Bradshaw collided mid-air when they dove for the same football. For three years, they were inseparable…until one day when Noah and his parents disappeared in the middle of the night.

Noah and Cooper never knew what happened to each other. Now, seventeen years later, after finding his boyfriend in bed with another man, Noah returns to Blackcreek looking for a fresh start. And damned if he doesn’t find his old friend grew up to be sexy as sin. Coop can’t believe Noah—the only person he trusted with the guilt over his parents’ death—is back. And gay… Or that Cooper himself suddenly wants another man in his bed for the first time.

There’s no denying the attraction and emotion between them, but can they overcome the ghosts of their pasts to have a future together?

Coming in November 2013! Add it to your Goodreads TBR list NOW!

Follow Riley on Twiiter

Friend Riley on Facebook


Last night I had the strangest dream: I was all frothy and bitch-slapping mad at editor and fellow manlove romance author Kate McMurray about the structural state (or lack, thereof) of my current contemporary project. I’ve had to temporarily put it on pause, and I guess my subconscious was more bummed than I realized about taking a break from the writing. Or Kate was, and we have a never before discovered telepathic connection. *shiver*

SO now that I am awake, I need coffee. And people, I have discovered the bestest coffee. It’s Gay Coffee. GAY COFFEE! What better way to immerse yourself in gay culture and perk yourself up at the same time, right? And this is some good shit, yo. Roasted to order, fair trade, organic, whole-bean goodness. And for those of you who are coming to GayRomLit, I talked to the lovely, awesome owner of Gay Coffee and she is sending me samples! They’re going to grind it up for me and wait to send it when the date draws nigh (and drawing night it is!), so it’s at the peak of freshness and everything!! If you will be there in Albuquerque, come and hit me up for some Gay Coffee goodness!

Soapy studs: this week’s episode of Boxer Falls is by Jeremy Pack, and he’s introduced a mystical twist to the murder and mayhem that’s been afoot lately. Come check it out on the Goodreads M/M romance group. Next week? Damon Suede handles the men of Boxer Falls. I have an idea of what he has planned. I do believe it will be a little bit twisted. Stay tuned.

Until next week, I’m off to bitchslap Kate McMurray (no, I’m TOTALLY kidding you guys. Kate’s a friend, and she’s lovely).

Guest Post: Writing Characters With Character by S. A. Garcia

Many thanks to S.A. Garcia for guest blogging with me this week! And be sure to check out her awesome episode of Boxer Falls this week on the M/M Romance group at Goodreads!

What would writers do without willful characters and their demanding ways?

During my writing, willful characters often pop into existence. A neighbor who has never emerged from their house opens the front door and wham, becomes an important secondary character. The one liner mailman worms his way into his own storyline. A gallery owner created to supply comic relief evolves to the point where he is special enough to deserve a spin off story. They want their time alongside the main character parade.

What do you do with a character who falls from the sky?

Believe it or not, Fabion, my character from “An Elf for All Centuries”, fell from the sky. His dramatic entrance into my writing world is fitting considering his drama queen status. He fell from the sky during a strange dream, landed splat in a mud puddle, started cursing, and needed a home. I hope the silly word mansion I constructed for his diva personality pleases him.

Other characters entered my life in less dramatic scenarios. Amando from “Temptation of the Incubus” always seemed to exist for me. Many moons ago, I read horror magazines like Creepy, Eerie and Vampirella. Anyone remember Vampirella, she of the skimpy red outfit and flowing black hair? I certainly do. Okay, enough drooling. When I was a kid, I had subscriptions to these magazines. Bless my parents. I remember reading a story about a succubus giving up her life to save her dying human lover. The story stuck with me until years later I decided to use the story as part of a far larger story based around a male incubus and his human lover. Enter Amando and Mads into my world.

Amando and Fabion have too much in common. They are both full of self-worth, sexy and own no problem in accepting their sexiness. Someday I want to lock them in a room and see what happens. Aw, come on, they will have sex. That’s a no-brainer.

Prince Linden and Alasdaire from “Canes and Scales” are another pair who has always been with me. In fact, they have been in many people’s minds. They are the fairy tale pair, the star-crossed noble and slave who fight past restraints and torment to love. They are an eternal pair descended from a common love of romance and the happy ever after ending, well, happy until something wicked comes along to screw up their romance. In their sequel, something comes at them like a screaming demon. Poor souls.

Speaking of souls, my characters Tristan and Marius from “To Save a Shining Soul” are another good example of the fairy tale pairing. A demon and a misplaced divinity student in Hell fall in love. They are definitely an archetypical pairing, geesh, probably something found in cave paintings. Good and evil hooking up. Tristan and Marius are as simple and as complex as that concept.

In my novel that won’t be out until September, my characters Carl and Marcelino are another variation on an archetypical pairing, the pot-smoking college professor and the sexy student. Granted they are a variation on the older man chasing the younger man trope, especially since Carl the professor is, in certain ways, less grounded than the younger Marcelino. No matter what, I had a blast writing them together.

Other characters such as torn-asunder, mmm, I love that term, Magus and Nick hope to see the light of day in my supernatural tale about the Shetlands. What about David and Nate, my poor characters stuck in a Victorian vampire mess? Or Petros, Rolfe, Nels and Aindrias, struggling to push their historical drama to the finishline? These poor men need freedom. I hope it arrives for them soon.

Then there is Patrice, a pushy little bugger who has been haunting me. He’s another bold character who introduced via a dream. He owns a leather bar/cafe, likes red leather pants paired with stiletto boots and fills in as a waiter. Patrice is proud of his round beer belly and seldom wears a shirt at the bar. Hard belly pinches turn him on. He is swarthy, black-haired, green-eyed, and handy with a switchblade. He hides a tattoo. Judging by his attitude, I know where he is inked. He displays one helluva tattoo, oh yeah.

Patrice keeps haunting me. He struts across the dimly lit bar carrying a menu to a man sitting at a back table. At least this character hasn’t named himself. The waiting man hasn’t ordered food since Patrice never reaches his table. Patrice struts but never arrives.

He performs this act on a regular basis. I often “write” myself to sleep, trying to work out a scene or where a story might go next. Even when I’m fretting over another story, Patrice insists on strutting with his menu.

I try to ignore him. Many other words need attention. Too many needy characters wait in line for editing and development.

Patrice wants to strut to the line’s front. Should I let him deliver the menu to the man at the back table? Damn, the second the menu slides into that man’s hand, the dude will name himself.

They will try to line jump but there is no way they are shoving past Magus, Nick, Petros, Rolfe, Nels and Aindrias. Their sheer combined angst will force Patrice and Mr. Table Sitter behind them. Before they act up, I promised Patrice and mystery man a place in one of my many plots in progress. I know where they will fit in.

Do you think they will be happy with my promise?

Cross your fingers. I do worry about Patrice’s switchblade skills.

Let’s hope my dreams bring less aggressive characters who act patient enough to wait their turn. It’s rough when a character displays too much character.

That seems like a good place to include an excerpt from “An Elf for All Centuries.”


Elf Prince Fabion enjoys the perfect supermodel lifestyle until wizard Matradorian chucks him back in time to save Henda, the sexy, powerful elf king. Since the death of his lover, Henda has lingered in a half-alive, half-dead state. Surprisingly, Fabion is a spiritual match for Henda’s dead lover, so only he can save the dying king.

Fabion uses his sexy bod and sweet lovin’ to revive the elf king. All seems well until he realizes that by saving Henda, his own timeline was destroyed and he must stay in this ancient land forever. Fabion pitches the biggest temper tantrum of any century.

Soon a new threat emerges which puts his life in fresh danger. Now who wants to kill him?


Henda body slammed Fabion into the sitting room table. Unnngh… wow, the hard, wooden table sure abused the spine. The frenzied Fabion was too busy holding on and gasping in wet, hot pleasure to protest. Fuck. Amazing. Did his powerful Henda have a cock or a telephone pole swinging between his thighs? Whatever this potent male swirled around in Fabion’s ass sure made Fabion experience twinkling stars, shimmering comets, and strange, lime-green light flashes. He imagined himself as a cup of coffee violently stirred by one long, hard spoon. Ouch, did those green flashes mean brain damage? His head had bounced off the sitting room wall pretty damned hard.

Crap-a doodle-doo-ooo-oo-ouch!

“Henda, what the hell are you—ooo—”

The powerful elf yanked him off the table and maneuvered them toward the bedroom. Fabion wrapped around Henda, laughed, and enjoyed the sexy ride down the hall. Yee-hah! As he walked, Henda continued jamming the pile driver into Fabion. Amazing. Yeee-haaa redux. The big dude hid hydraulics in his wicked cock!

Henda’s wanton actions stunned Fabion. Imagine, he had coaxed the stately big dude into acting like a rampaging sexual demon.

Pained ecstasy made Fabion whoop in amazement.

His smiling big dude gasped out a teasing question. “Am I too much for my youthful one?”

When he controlled his own gasping, Fabion nipped at Henda’s smiling lips. “Keep bringing it on, you wild thing! This is where I need you to be my perpetual motion machine. You can do me until I pass out. This is… you are… ooo, yeah, baby, please—”

Fabion squirmed in fresh joy. He bounced his ass up and down. He hoped his big dude managed not to drop him even as he tried forcing Henda to come before they reached the bed.

Loud gasps threatened their progress. “My love, I hate to admit the fact, but throwing you across the various surfaces exhausts even my royal stamina. Do you mind if we end our epic round of sex in our bed? I love ending in a traditional manner.”

“Traditional? You’re funny, Big Dude.” Fabion rolled his inner ass muscles.

“You are a lovely tease.” Henda carefully positioned them to drop in swift grace.

Fabion’s torso sunk into the bed. His pillow cradled his head. He stared up at Henda in amazement. “Big Dude, wow, what skillful aim. Thanks for not dropping me on the floor.”

“You act so dazed with sexual glory, I wonder if you would even notice.”

“You gotta point and wow, one fabulous point deep where it counts!”

Crooning in merry lust, Fabion arched his neck back and rolled his head against the feather pillow. He kept his long legs wrapped around Henda’s perfect waist. Wow-wowie. Yooowww, whatever happened deep inside him defined killer. “Hey, Big Dude, do that trick again.”

Henda chuckled softly and maneuvered his hips slightly to the left. “Is this what my darling one needs?”

“Woo, absolutely, Big Dude. Lover, are you sick of me—ooo, yeah—telling you how sublimely boffo you are?”

Another chuckle escaped Henda’s panting throat. “Boffo? Trust me, Fabion, you are the first one to call me boffo. I gather boffo is a pleasant thing to be?”

Fabion managed to laugh through his impending blast off. “Absolutely, Big Dude. Boffo ranks right up there with killer.”

Henda arched his back toward the ceiling. Yeow, perfect, the big dude slowly drove his cock back into Fabion in hard, incremental thrusts. His lover understood when to slow down the show. Excellent.

“You are killer boffo.”

Henda smiled over Fabion’s ecstatic face. “My dear beauty, you and I are going to sit down with a few bottles of, as you call it, tree sap vino and detail your strange utterances. How is killer a good thing?”

“Trust me, you studly elf, it is a compliment, like me saying ‘I dig how you do the nasty’. Crap, holy cats, lover, how do you make your amazing dick twist radically hard? Your new treat is wickedly hot.”

“My Fabion, tell me what pleases you, and I shall perform the act until you cannot stand the pleasure. I hate to sound boastful, but I can satisfy a lover for hours. Actually, since we act lively here, I fear I will not hold out as long as usual. I confess I am at physical limit.”

Whew, cool to realize Henda also suffered from exhaustion. Fabion felt less wimpy.

Thanks for reading and many thanks to Ellis for hosting me here today.

Who Am I?

Thirty years ago, I started writing m/m romance. My writing remained a secret lest my friends thought me a freak. Writing about men inserting tab A into slot B didn’t seem the norm for a female teenager. Reading Gordon Merrick, John Rechy and Larry Kramer helped me fill in informational gaps. Yes, I read those books only in my bedroom.

As the years progressed and I discovered my sexual path, I still wrote m/m romance, although the stories progressed from lurking in notebooks to hiding on the computer.

Now I am glad I kept the writing faith. Five published novellas and novels later, my life is a fun quandary of too many stories hindered by slow typing skills. I accept the silly challenge.

An Elf for All Centuries

S.A. Garcia’s World of Words

Facebook: Sandra Ann Garcia

Twitter: @SAGarcia_Writer

Blog: http://oscarsbruisedpetals.blogspot.com/

Love Bites: New M/M Free Read

So awhile back my critique partner suggested I try to enter a short story contest–you wouldn’t know it, but my thing is writing novels. Still, with my busy schedule novellas and short stories have turned out to be the bulk of my work thus far. With my busy schedule, it’s just easier. And I seem to be okay at them. So I entered this paranormal-themed contest, knowing it was a long-shot to enter with a gay romance story, but figuring I’d at least give it a shot. The story didn’t final,  and after sitting around in the proverbial drawer for awhile, I decided to post it as a free read. It’s very short vampire/shifter story (there was a word-count limit), and you  can check it out on Goodreads.  I should warn that there’s not really any smexing in this one, there just wasn’t enough room with the allotted word count–but since I tend to often write high heat level, I figured maybe it couldn’t hurt to write a story without any, for a change. 😉 I hope you enjoy.

Soap Up and Get Down!

This week’s episode of Boxer Falls, our free soap opera-style serial drama is up! The last episode of each month one of the head writers takes a turn at the wheel, either Damon Suede, Poppy Dennison, or myself. This week was my turn, and I decided to bring everyone’s favorite “it” couple back together. Here’s an excerpt:

…Quinn found his fingertips digging into the arm of his chair at the wistful tone in Oz’s voice when he talked about Yoshi, not to mention the reminder that the guy could have been killed not too long ago. Fuck it all to hell. He sank lower in his hair and rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Look, Oz, I—“ I’m sorry I was a dick that morning you wanted to hang out in bed. I’m glad you weren’t hurt worse in that wreck. I’m being a tool right now because the thing is I keep thinking an awful lot that maybe I was wrong when I said no second dates. Only, it’d be nice if I actually thought you’d be willing to be seen with me in public and stuff. Looking around this huge-assed office and your dad’s massive fucking mansion, I don’t see how I’ve got the first thing to offer that would possibly make you wanna do that. Sure as hell I ain’t gonna magically grow a set of bangin’ D-cups. “I think it’s real manly sounding when you talk about sports equipment like that.”

Oz laughed. A real, deep, rumbly laugh that Quinn liked the sound of more than he should have. He stood and it was like the office had gotten smaller and darker. His clothes rubbed and constricted uncomfortably. He wanted his T-shirt and his kilt and his boots back.

He jerked a thumb toward the door. “I’d better get back out there. Thanks for patching me up, Oz.” He held out a hand, an effort to be well-mannered and civil.

When Oz slid his palm against Quinn’s and blue eyes met green, the spark between them was back again. Undeniable.

“You don’t have to go yet do you?” Oz’s voice was almost a whisper. A dangerously low, guttural, sexy as all fucking hell whisper…

Read the rest and catch up on the other episodes at the M/M Romance Group, on Goodreads.