Character Interview Cyrus Abrams with Remmy Duchene & BLMorticia

July 17, 2015

WoundedHearts

 

 

 

Character Interview with Cyrus Abrams

 

*audience applause*

 

Michael Mandrake: Hello, good people. Welcome to sitting down with the muses, hosted by Michael Mandrake. I haven’t done a character interview in quite a while and instead of interviewing one of my own, I’m talking with one of my sister, BLMorticia’s saucy characters, the very interesting and blunt, Cyrus Abrams from Wounded Hearts.

 

*audience applause*

 

Cyrus Abrams: *strokes beard, waves to the crowd, and removes Stetson*  Thank ya’ll. Man, that was quite an ovation. I feel like a rock star. Hiya there, Michael.

 

Michael Mandrake: Hello again, Cyrus. So, tell us more about the book you star in.

 

Cyrus Abrams: Well, it’s called Wounded Hearts. It’s starring me and a hot New York Policeman named Zane Ashford. You could say it’s a romance with some angst, and we butt heads a couple of times, okay well, *laughs* more than a couple, but in the end. I get the best of that fine ass cop. *nods overconfidently and tugs on crotch*

 

*crowd whistles*

 

Michael Mandrake: Wow, well, don’t tell us the whole story, Cyrus. We do want to pick up the book. Let’s move on. Tell us more about Cyrus Abrams.

 

Cyrus Abrams: Well, what can I say, Michael, I’m an old bastard who didn’t want anything to do with relationships. I lost the love of my life years ago and I spent a few years in the slammer. I love country music, especially Conway Twitty and Kenny Rogers, my dog, Woofer, and my horse, Minnie. I run a ranch/farm in Great Falls Montana, graining cereal and selling my best cows and hogs to local butchers. I run an honest business … well, now anyway.

 

*crowd oohs*

 

Cyrus Abrams: Like I said, I was all about the five finger shuffle with a side of porn. Then, the city slicker heads my way and things changed. I was only looking to tap that gorgeous ass, and instead, I got a lot more.

 

*crowd whistles and claps*

 

Michael Mandrake: *Michael blushes* Well, we can’t wait to see how that turns out. One last question before we do a speed round. If there is any lesson we could learn from this book, what would it be?

 

Cyrus Abrams: Mike, I’d say to give love a chance ‘cause you never know what joy it’ll bring ya. Hell, who knows if it’ll pass or fail, but dammit, don’t let it pass you by, regardless of how much of an old geezer you are.

 

*crowd whistles and claps*

 

Michael Mandrake: That’s a great lesson to learn. Now, how about a short speed round for fun? I’m sorry, your author put me up to this.

 

Cyrus Abrams: *laughs* Go on ahead. I’m on top of the world right now. *turns to the left and winks*

 

Michael Mandrake: Ah, the other star is here right now. Zane, don’t be shy, please come out and sit with him. Don’t be shy.

 

*Zane comes out and waves at the crowd, take the seat right next to Cyrus*

 

Zane Ashford: Hello there, Michael. *plants kiss on Cyrus’s cheek* I can answer too for fun.

 

Michael Mandrake: Wonderful. Alright, let’s start. Chocolate or Vanilla.

 

Cyrus Abrams: Well, hell, chocolate is always the best. *waggles eyebrows*

 

Zane Ashford:  Good answer….

 

 

 

Michael Mandrake: Why am I not surprised you answered that?

 

*Cyrus shrugs*

 

Michael Mandrake: Lights on or off?

 

Cyrus Abrams: On. I wanna see everything!

 

*crowd laughs*

 

Zane Ashford:  *palms forehead* Oi.

 

Michael Mandrake: Of course you do, Cyrus. Next, glass half empty or half full?

 

Cyrus Abrams: Well, it’s full now. *Cyrus grins*

 

Michael Mandrake: *shakes head* Cyrus, that wasn’t the question. How about, generally?

 

Cyrus Abrams: Alright, Mr. Stuffy. I’ll say half full.

 

Zane Ashford: *laughs and covers his eyes*

 

Michael Mandrake: Last two. Leather or lace?

 

Cyrus Abrams: Who the hell came up with these? I’d say neither ‘cause I may be gay, but I ain’t no fruit cake.

 

Michael Mandrake: *laughs* No, you aren’t, just answer for the audience.

 

Cyrus Abrams: I’ll go for leather then, especially if they’re the assless chaps I gave Ash for his birthday.

 

*crowd laughs*

 

Zane Ashford:  *puts finger to lips*

 

Michael Mandrake: Last one, favorite color?

 

Cyrus Abrams: Anything black, especially for a Stetson. *places it on his head*

 

Zane Ashford:  One of these days I’m going to get him to wear pink…

 

Michael Mandrake: Well, this has been very enjoyable. Cyrus, Zane, thanks so much for stopping by my show today. Good luck to the both of you.

 

Zane Ashford: Thanks, Michael.

 

Cyrus Abrams; Yes, thanks Mike. And all ya’ll rush out and get Wounded Hearts. It’s hot, angsty, and dammit, it’s fun too. Enjoy!

 

*crowd applauds*

 

Excerpt Two – Wounded Hearts with Remmy Duchene & BLMorticia

July 17, 2015

WoundedHearts Chapter Two

“Dangit!” Cyrus winced in pain when a splinter broke the skin on his index finger. Man, don’t be a pussy. It’s just a little—fuck! Knew I should’ve worn gloves! You just gotta be the tough guy, Cy. Cyrus shook his hand and hopped around like his pants were on fire. He only wanted to get the cattle through the gate and onto the fields to begin his chores for the day, and he’d be damned if he allowed a tiny piece of wood to stand in the way of him making some money. After all, this was his only means of paying the bills and keeping food on the table. Cereal graining was honest work even for a not-so-honest bastard like Cyrus Abrams.

Shit.

Still in pain and grimacing from the discomfort, Cyrus sucked on his finger and continued to work with one hand. He needed to get a move on so he’d be able to have everything ready when the truck arrived to pick up his offerings. If he wasn’t ready, the driver would leave without a second look back. He couldn’t have that happen if he wanted to keep beer in the fridge and the utilities paid for the month.

“Eeeee… eee….” The pigs behind him continued making a fuss to get out of the pen.

“Wait your turn, ya hogs! Those bitches right there are my other prime source of income.” For some ungodly reason, nobody really liked buying pork in Great Falls. Beef, on the other hand, was a huge seller, and Cyrus was more than happy to contribute to the market. Money from cereal grain farming could only go so far. He needed cash for spankovision and the whiskey he liked to drink, as well as wages for his assistant.

Cyrus’s eyes narrowed when he glanced at his watch, knowing young Brian Daystar was late… again.

Where is that sonofabitch, anyway?

If only the kid could be as serious about work instead of bedding everybody, Cyrus knew he’d have a model employee. Once Brian got to work, he was a big help, so instead of complaining, Cyrus cut Brian some slack.

If only he were a little older?

Just thinking about the hot Native American babe with long brown hair and beautiful eyes made him hard as nails. He smirked and gave himself a little tug. Whacking off in his dreams of Brian was as far as things would go for Cyrus. He wasn’t interested in long-term relationships with anyone after losing Danny to a gunshot wound to the head.

Instantly, Cyrus’s thoughts of arousal changed to grief. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes a moment, reliving the whole ordeal.

I’ll never love again.

Nope, he didn’t need anyone after seeing such a horrific event unfold in front of his eyes, and then, to make things worse, they charged him with the murder and sent him to jail for five years until someone finally wised up and acquitted him.

“Falling in love means hurting, and I’m too old to hurt!” Cyrus slammed the gate closed and stalked to the pen where the pigs were bunching up in front, ready to get out. He slipped on his gloves to protect the nick on his finger and shoved the door wide, allowing them to roam free in their part of the yard.

Watching the hogs, he leaned back against the fence and flicked the tip of his Stetson from over his eyes. Looking up into the skies, he squinted from hot sun bearing down on him. Drops of sweat formed on his brow, but he didn’t bother to wipe any of it off.

A little perspiration never hurt nobody.

Cyrus wrinkled his nose and turned his attention to the mud under his feet. He still couldn’t believe how many years had passed since his lover had been mercilessly taken away from him. Attempting to keep from crying, he sniffed and choked back tears. “Danny, sometimes I get lonely, but I know no one will be able to take your place.” Cyrus plucked a toothpick from his shirt pocket and jammed it between his lips. “No one wants me, anyway. I’m too set in my ways and I need my space. I’m better off alone, taking care of the cows and graining cereal, my man. Besides, nothing’s gonna come close to what I had with you.” And they wouldn’t, knowing how picky he was about the men he wanted to bring home with him. Cyrus knew he held them up to a standard that most likely couldn’t be reached.

Although Cyrus knew this to be a fact, he never stopped any man from keeping him company temporarily, but once he got his fill, Cyrus kicked them out without so much as batting an eyelash. He knew it was wrong as hell to force people out of his life, but again, it was for the best.

Cyrus tossed the toothpick away and headed for the barn. With the pigs playing in the mud and the morning chores started, he’d check on the horses. And since he couldn’t find Brian,  he’d even collect eggs, things Brian should’ve been doing for his first duty at eight-thirty.

Cyrus stomped through the mire in the other direction. Just as he began walking, Brian rushed from his car, slamming the door behind him. “Cyrus, shit man, sorry I’m late. Just came from… ah… never mind. I’ll get to work!” Brian stumbled to keep from slipping in the muck. He inhaled deeply, pulled his ponytail from out of his jacket, and slapped the white cowboy hat atop his head. “No need to do anything irrational, Cy. I’ll even stay a little later without pay if you like.”

Cyrus shook his head and smirked. “Naw, man, it’s all right. I know you got a life outside this ranch. Just ’cause I’m miserable don’t mean you have to be.” Cyrus handed him the basket.

Excerpt One Wounded Hearts with Remmy Duchene & BLMorticia

July 17, 2015

 

WoundedHearts Chapter One

A strange beeping echoed around Zane Ashford in that moment between complete, dreamless sleep and being painfully awake. Then his body awakened and he felt his left eye hurting. Not the kind of pain from sitting at a computer too long, or even the sting from accidentally dripping shampoo in the eyes.

Panic set in. His body went rigid and the beeping around him went haywire. Hands held him against the bed, and Zane struggled to get away, to get free. Why wouldn’t they let him go, and why couldn’t he see through his left eye?

Zane surged upward, shouting for help. His mind was screaming I can’t see, but for some reason, something blocked the words from escaping.

His chest heaved, his heart slamming, as someone screamed at him to stop freaking out. But he couldn’t see. One eye was completely covered and each time he opened the other everything was just a blurry mess and that sound was starting to give him a migraine. Two hands clutched at his shoulders, pushing him backward, but he didn’t want to go back.

Please! I just want to see!

“Come on, Big Daddy. Snap out of it. If you don’t stop struggling, they’re going to sedate you!” The hands shoved hard against Zane’s shoulders. “Is that what you want?”

Zane gasped and opened the one good eye he could see through. Everything was a little blurry. Slowly, he came around from his daze and instantly felt like crying. There was no mistaking the tube down his throat. His brain kept telling him to swallow, but he couldn’t and he only panicked more. He snapped a hand from the person holding him and reached for it.

“Zane Alexander Ashford! I swear to God, I will knock you out myself if you touch that tube!”

Still, he reached for it, but the moment he began tugging, there was a nick at his arm. At first surprise stopped him from taking the tube out, then the world crashed in on him, spun, and went dark.

There was no telling how long he was out, but the world swam in on him like a bad movie, shaking horribly into focus. The pain was there again, but this time he remembered what had happened. He could hear the doctor speaking over him as though he wasn’t even there.

“…80 percent vision loss….”

Once again Zane drifted into a quick sleep, but the beep woke him.

“…I don’t know if he’ll ever carry a badge again physical….”

The memory of the heated char of a bullet from a perpetrator’s weapon burned in his mind, the pain unlike any other.

He’d gotten his man at a terrible cost.

“Ash?” a familiar voice called. “Come on, Big Daddy, open your eyes.”

“What for?” Zane’s throat felt rough and he coughed. He wasn’t sure which he preferred yet, the tube in or out. Either way his throat still felt as if he’d swallowed sand.

“So you can see my beautiful face.”

Zane tried to harrumph but failed.

“Because there is a whole world out here!”

Zane wanted to tell Renford to kiss the blackest part of his ass, but he was concentrating on the dryness in his throat. He cleared his throat, trying to be less of a burden than he knew he already was and not ask for something to drink. “How long have I been under?”

“Three days,” Renford replied. “You were in a coma because there was some swelling. They were worried you might have had some damage, but it seems your brain is working just fine.”

“Water.”

Renford reached for a cup on a nearby desk. Zane wanted to take it and drink on his own but he could barely sit up. Renford must have noticed and helped Zane ease forward so he could drink from the straw. He pulled greedily from it.

“Hey, slow down there.”

Zane ignored the warning and sucked until he could barely breathe before releasing the straw. He eased away from Renford and flopped back to the pillow. The hospital smell made him nauseous, and every sound was reason enough for him to worry. Detective Zane Ashford had been in too many hospitals when a perp or a victim was dying. He knew the sounds.

Someone crashed, and a loud alarm with an animated voice screamed code blue! Hurried voices and footsteps charged down the corridors. Someone was hollering for a cart as a voice boomed over the intercom.

The noise was almost too much to bear, but the darkness inside his own head was worse.

“… it really isn’t as bad as it could be,” Renford was saying.

“What?” Zane shook his head to clear it. “Sorry—all the chaos outside kind of distracted me.”

“I know this may be boring, but pay attention! The doctors say you will have to wear that thing for about six months.”

Zane lifted a hand to touch the patch and couldn’t help feeling like a pirate—a horrible one who should no longer be a pirate but cannot give up the life. “Well, shit.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this.” Renford’s voice was raspy, like he hadn’t used it in a very long time. “But it could have been worse.”

“And how could this possibly have been worse?”

“You could be dead.”

Writing Interracial Romance – Roundtable Remmy Duchene and Sharita Lira

July 17, 2015

WoundedHearts

Sharita: Hello there. I’m Sharita Lira. I’m very excited to be part of the Dreamspinner romance team, and with me today is one of my favorite people and authors, Remmy Duchene. In this blog, we’re discussing interracial m/m  or gay romances. We hope to pinpoint some of the issues, misconceptions, and solutions to making more diverse gay romance novels a reality.

Okay, let’s start with the why. Why are we doing this blog? As you know, Remmy and I have a new release, Wounded Hearts, which is part of the Wounded Series from Dreamspinner Press. Being in the genre as long as we have, we’re well aware of the issues that might arise. Let’s bring Remmy in to discuss our first issue.

Remmy:  *waves* Hi everyone. Sharita decided to take me away from my chocolate ice-cream, but we won’t tell her we bite…oh right, issues within the Interracial world. Thinking about it makes my brain hurt, but I guess we have to say something about it right? Well,  first, there isn’t nearly enough interracial, MM couples on these stock photo sites. Have you noticed that Sharita? I mean, sometimes I sit down for hours, pouring through stock photo sites with my cover artist until I get mad enough to want to punch something.

Sharita: I have indeed noticed that, Remmy. With just about every IR m/m book I’ve done, there’s been very little to represent our characters. Not just African American, but Asian, Hispanic, and older men. Thinking about Wounded Hearts, we couldn’t find the right men for Cyrus or Ash, but our brilliant cover artist was able to come up with a kick ass cover, despite the lack of variety. Remmy, what do you think is the solution?

Remmy: I have no idea, man. I mean – I see all these non-interracial covers and these men are holding each other and looking romantic and beautiful, then I look at my covers and the men seem to be on different planets *sigh* I don’t know. If I could, I’d start my own photography studio and take the pictures for IR covers that would look just as beautiful. But short of doing that, there isn’t really a solution.  There is one photographer who took some pictures of African American males, but as you know, my men are not skinny little things–I couldn’t use any of this photographer’s pictures.

Sharita: *sighs* We can’t force more photographers to fit our needs, but we can make them aware with a blogpost like this one. Making diverse books is not just about race, it’s about age, gender, and so on. What about more pictures of beautiful transsexuals? Older men? Women who aren’t just blond with blue eyes. The world is a melting pot and I wish more photographers would offer variety to royalty free sites. So, if you’re a photographer, listen up. Give us more of everything, a wider selection. That’s all. Let’s move on to the next thing. Interracial m/m means leaving most of the stereotypes at home. What do you think, Remmy?

Remmy: Dude, listen, I’ve been telling people that for years. I specifically write Interracial romance/erotica because I don’t think love is one way, or people are one way.  I try to mix them all. People who stereotype drive me crazy. I think I told you about the publisher who told me one day that I should turn my Japanese guy into a Native American guy because Japanese people think black people are dirty and that their relationship would never work? I was righteously P.O’ed. I wanted to tell her that Japanese people LOVE Jamaicans, so much so that they sample our music, a Japanese girl was the Jamaican Dancehall Queen and they adore asking us questions and learning how to cook from us. Right before telling her to…well…you can guess. I had to be classy about it.

Sharita: *blinks* Of course you did. When writing interracial or just fiction, people have ideas for things they think is reality. What happened to love is love no matter what? lol Going back to the issue with stereotypes, I also recall someone telling you to make your black men more “urban.” Umm… I believe we both write all of our men as people, first. Instead of making them poor, why can’t they be rich and gainfully employed? Ash inherited millions and he’s still a cop. Bottom line, people are people and just because some people fit some stereotypes, it doesn’t have to follow those in our books. Now, here I come with a wrench into this argument. I’ve always said, unless that stereotype is essential to the plot, you shouldn’t draw on those when you write. What do you think about that, Remmy?

Remmy: I try to stay away from stereotypes period. I mean, don’t get me wrong, sometimes you need to toss a little bit in there. But stereotyping is boring. I had a reader say to me that writing my Japanese guy with a big…um…*blush and whispers* willie isn’t real because Asian men are small. I blinked and then laughed so hard I almost peed myself. Why? I’ve dated two Asian guys and they were not small. So, yeah, stereotyping just makes people look dumb.  And yes, I said willie *jumps on bed singing, My Bologna has a first name….*

Sharita: *laughs like a hyena* Okay, I’m in agreement on that, however, I can think of one instance in a future story of mine where the Asian character automatically suspects a black man of being a thief. That is what will get the two men together, so yeah I’m using that as the point of conflict, but in general, yes, lets leave them out of fiction. Now, let’s move on. Something that kind of fits the so called stereotype is speech. In Wounded, we have two very different men. Ash, a black cop from New York, and Cyrus an older cowboy from Montana. In that book, we went back and forth with our lovely editors and betas on how they spoke. Not heavy slang, but some phrases, they didn’t understand. Remmy, tell us what happened?

Remmy: Lovely….suuuuure. *cough* *cough* But seriously, yeah. It always drives me a little insane when my editor messages me and go “um…what does “aight” mean. Then we have to go back and forth trying to figure out if it was real or not. It’s hard to write other cultures sometimes. Because where you would like to use certain languages, you just know the headache that will come when the Beta’s and editors who never had a chance to really study these cultures get their hands on the story. You know me, I love using foreign languages so I think that must drive them crazy too lol

Sharita: *laughs* Oh yeah. You throw me off with the French in this latest book we’re doing. lol So the solution? I suppose it’s just betas and editors getting up to speed. The speech gives books a “flavor” if you will. Neither I nor Remmy have characters that talk heavy slang. Only my “Frankie” character in I Like Em Pretty comes to mind because he was from New Orleans, but other than that, it’s not necessary to write a good interracial romance book. Sprinkle a little of the language, don’t draw on stereotypes unless it’s central to the conflict and/or plot, and please, somebody please give us some more diversity in stock photos. Us interracial gay romance authors will love ya forevah! *smooch* Remmy, I think we covered the biggest ones right?

Remmy: *looks up from frowning at my gum that was supposed to be Starbust candy* *Sigh* yup – We could dig into Historicals for Interracial characters but that’s a whole other can of drama we could go on for years about. So yeah, Wounded Hearts is book one in a series that we had fun writing – and will be in your hot little hands soon. For my readers they’re going to be a lil surprised but its a good surprise – trust me *giggles* You won’t be disappointed because this book has all the same Remmy flavour with a whole lotta Sharita shaken, not stirred.

Sharita: Actually, its my wicked gal, BLMorticia and yes, she enjoyed … or sorry, Cyrus loved making Ash mad. These two men were at odds from the moment they got together, but hey, what’s a good romance with the conflict right? Thanks for listening to us rant today. Look for Wounded Hearts to be released, oh shit, today! Haha! Enjoy!

Release Day for Wounded Hearts with Remmy Duchene & BLMorticia

July 17, 2015

WoundedHearts

Blurb: Zane Ashford’s stint in the NYPD comes to an abrupt halt when he is injured in the line of duty. After waking up partially blind in one eye, all he wants to do is crawl into a hole, but his friends and family won’t leave him alone. Reluctantly, he lets his best friend talk him into time away on a ranch in Montana. But the moment he gets there and meets Cyrus Abrams, Zane begins to contemplate murder.

Cyrus Abrams is vulgar, ornery, stuck in his ways, and not about to change for anyone, no matter how good Zane Ashford looks in those jeans. The more they lock horns, the more Cyrus begins to see Zane in a whole new light.  But Cyrus has a past, one that left him in big trouble and more broken than he cares to admit—a past no one told Zane about. Cyrus fears that when Zane finds out, everything will come to a screeching halt.

Sales Links

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Talking about Zane “Ash” Ashford – Remmy Duchene

July 17, 2015

Hi Everyone!

Remmy Duchene here. I am one half of the writers responsible for Wounded Hearts.  I know a number of you bought the story during pre-sales, thank you *blows you kisses* You are spank-tacular.

Wounded Hearts is a monster of a story. Yes, even bigger than Captive to his Wonder that is now out at Dreamspinner as well. When we were finished I think both Sharita and I had nightmares about the editing process.  I think it was about at 100K when we finally wrote those two horrifying words “the end.” During editing we cut out a lot to what we have now and as I re-read it during the process, I was so proud of my little Zane Ashford.

Okay, as Dylan Thomas wrote in Under Milkwood, to begin at the beginning….

Yes, I know, you’ve seen me write with people before so you know I’m kind of a veteran with that. And it is something I really enjoy doing. This time around I was responsible for Zane  Ashford aka Ash, aka Uncle Zee aka Big Daddy, the African American NYPD officer who is banished to the boonies of Montana so he can heal after a bust goes horribly wrong.

I wasn’t sure what job to give Zane. As you know I’ve written quite a number of cops, Real Estate moguls, software gurus, writers – but this character just gave itself life.  A cop was the only reasonable way to go and when you read the story you will see why.

When Sharita and I wrote this tale, we didn’t really plan anything. We created small bios for each character and then tried sticking to that but as you can probably guess, quickly went off the reservation in all the best ways.

I enjoyed writing Zane because he gives life to my belief that a man can be wealthy and not be a complete jerk. Well sure, he had his brain farts moments, what character doesn’t? But they are necessary, he needs failures to learn from. He needs “Standing on his soap box” moments to be taken down a peg. Even though he could kick Cyrus’ but if he truly wanted to *whispers* Don’t tell Sharita I said that, shhhh.  *runs around room making karate chop sounds* Just sayin’

But seriously, I enjoyed watching his pain and developing his relationships with those around him. Though Zane was unlike any man I’ve ever written (of course he had to be because Cyrus was unlike any lover I’ve ever given one of my men to) it was a good change for me.

So please, do enjoy Wounded Hearts. We put a lot of thought, sweat and love amongst these pages. We are quite proud of the end result and I hope you see, that love can blossom anywhere between any two people. All you have to do is stop fighting long enough, for just a second and love will find away…

Hugs,

Remmy Duchene

 

Ace Excerpt with Jack Byrne

July 15, 2015

 

 

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On a lighter note: Australian men and understatement (and another excerpt for you):

“Jesus, the things people do to dogs. It’s disgraceful. They ought to do the same to the owners. But how did you retrain her? Apart from occasionally trying to eat me, she seems sweet now.”
Jake laughed. “You should have seen the look on her face the first time I petted her. She looked at me like I’d lost my mind.”
“Was she savage?”
Jake remembered the snarling beast that had been pulled into the back of his pickup truck in Brisbane by two burly men with lead ropes on either side of her. “She wasn’t too bad. A bit stressed out.”
Damien peered at his face and asked, “Where did you get her?”
“Brisbane—from a car wrecker’s yard that had gone bust.” Jake hadn’t been able to get her off the back of his truck for a week and had to borrow a work car to get to and from work. He had parked the pickup under the carport and put food and water on the truck with her.
“Weren’t you scared of her?”
He remembered feeding her by poking her food bowl along to her with a stick. “Not scared. Respectful.”
“What is it you’re not telling me?”
“She was a bit of a handful, to be quite honest. Took me a while to gain her trust.”
“I know the feeling.”

 

Rescuing Dogs – the ones they don’t tell you about.

I put Karma, Sally and Bunny in this book because I find it hard to write a book without a dog in it.  I’ve lived all my life with dogs and horses around me, and it would seem strange not to have a furry friend nudging me awake in the morning at some ungodly hour, or greeting me when I come home.  The other day, someone referred to dog rescuers as ‘do-gooders’ and that really burred me up though because… it’s not an easy thing to do.  These dogs often don’t come to us in a good state.  They are often filthy, starving, smelly, horribly stressed and snappy, and generally not nice to know.  It takes a strong stomach and a lot of money, time and work to rehabilitate a dog once it gets that far down.  I rescue German shepherds, Rottweilers and some of the large breeds with bad reps, and I have scars up my arms from where they have bitten me, usually in the first few days of handling them when I’ve had to do all the unpleasant stuff (baths and clipping nails and treating injuries and infections and getting them needles) before they have learned to trust me.  I take my hat off to anyone who has ever rescued a dog, and I will keep writing dogs into my stories.  Of the two I am working on now, Feind Angelical has a huge black German shepherd in it, and of course if you read Taniwha Dreaming you will meet Shivers.

In ‘Ace’ I think Jake’s treatment of the dogs (Sally and Karma) shows that he is not a cold-hearted person, and this is one of the reasons Damien decides to stick around initially, despite being rejected sexually.  So the way he treats his animals becomes a key note in the story.

 

 

 

Final Tigers on the Run Release Party Post with Sean Kennedy

July 13, 2015

Thank you all so much for hanging out with me here.  It was fun!  But it is midnight here, and I will have a peppermint tea, try to finish “The Goldfinch” and go to bed.  So exciting!

I hope you enjoy “Tigers on the Run”.  I never expected there to be more than one Tigers book, but there is something about Simon and Declan that makes me keep returning to them.

Well, that, and the fact that Simon never shuts up.

Don’t forget, if you ever have anything to ask, I can be found on Twitter and Facebook!

 

One last thing: GO TIGERS!

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Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby with Sean Kennedy

July 13, 2015

Sex.

 

Yeah, yeah.  I said the magic word.

 

One of the main criticisms levelled at the Tigers books, besides Simon’s unlikeability (which KILLS me, especially as I’ve now admitted my family think I’m him) is that there is very little sex on the page.

 

I don’t know why that should be a criticism, or why it should be expected that every m/m book must have steamy engorged-cock sex scenes every so often.  Not that there’s anything wrong with it.  My book with Catt Ford, Dash and Dingo, has much of the sexiness that occurs between two men.  Because it seemed suited to that style of story, which was in every way rooted in classic gay pulp tropes and adventure action tropes.

 

tumblr_nqgvn5tGv01su49fgo1_500.gifBut when I started writing Tigers, I thought Simon – despite wearing his heart on his sleeve – is also a pretty private person.  You just have to watch his interactions with his family.  Of course that improves with each book, but I guess Simon thinks some things are his business, and his business alone.  Okay, he might admit to Declan having a pretty cock in Book #3, but that was more to mortify him than anything else.

 

So let the curtains rustle in the windows and watch the fade to black occur whenever these boys retreat to the bedroom.  It’s their circus, and their circus alone.

Tigers on the Run: Melbourne with Sean Kennedy

July 13, 2015

Let’s talk about Melbourne.

 

I often say that Melbourne is a character itself in the Tigers and Devils universe.  It was the city I was born in, the city I returned to live in for a decade, and it is the city of my heart.  You know how you just feel you belong somewhere?  I belong to Melbourne.

 

So I thought I would talk about some of the things I love so much about the city.  Some of them have already been adopted by Simon as his favourite things.

 

Here we go:

 

  • the MCG, obviously.  The home of Australian Rules Football.  Richmond train on the grounds in front of it on Punt Road.  It was also the stadium used for the Melbourne Olympics.  Where I lived you could often hear the crowd roaring if the wind blew in the right direction.
  • PICEDITOR-AGE

 

 

 

  • Pineapple donuts.  ‘Nuff said.ADP_7c10_detail

 

 

 

  • The Cheesestick.  A lairy art installation on one of the major freeways which a lot of people hate but I love.
  • 1412202137087
  • The Antarctic winds blowing straight through you.

 

 

 

 

 

  • Hanging Rock – a place of legend that most people still believe is real.  MIRAAAAAANDAAAA!
  • picnic-at-hanging-rock
  • Trams.  Trams makes a city magical.
  • Good vegetarian food on every street corner!  Believe me, that’s heaven for a veggo.
  • BOOK STORES.  Perth City justclosed down its last book store.  You now have to travel out to shopping centres in the burb to find a book store.
  • There is just a spirit in Melbourne that is like no other.  It really does feel like a city that accepts you, no matter who you are.  It is the perfect city for Simon and Dec to live the rest of their lives.

Does Melbourne feel like a city you would like to live in?