August 20, 2014
I’ve submitted a few things recently and am waiting for the “yay or nay”. I’ve written some short stories lately to send in for anthologies – one of which I got the answer on this morning. I have a story accepted for Dreamspinner Press’s upcoming “Advent” anthology so I was delighted to get the acceptance email on the very morning of my first release.
I’ve also submitted a novella about a hapless guy named Rhys, who has lost his job and been dumped by his cheating boyfriend in the space of one week. On the spur of the moment, he takes off on a trip to Peru (something I have longed to do and even bought books about it in the hopes I might get there one day). Disaster strikes, but Rhys is rescued by the proverbial knight in the form of the very sexy Rafael.
I’m waiting to hear about a full length novel I submitted, based on the paranormal. Fantasy, vampires, ghosts and other imaginative themes are one of my favorites to write, and my story The Eye of the Beholder is about a cruel young man who runs a modeling agency with his aunt. Vince’s mother died in childbirth, but as a witch, she returns in the form of a ghost to set him on the right track and make him realize that there is more to life than beauty. Vince turns ugly overnight and must try to find love to lift the spell. Despite months of searching, no one will look twice at him, with the exception of lonely male vampire named Peter. Vince, still having learned nothing, decides to use Peter to lift the spell, not realizing that Peter is using him in return. Against all odds, the pair fall in love, but they seemed destined to be torn apart.
In the planning stages, is a story about the victim of domestic abuse, which I mentioned earlier. I have notes and a few scenes for that, but it’s likely to be a few months before a get started on it. Another idea has come to the fore and is demanding to be written first. I’ve been trying to put it off, but no, it’s determined to fill my head with scenes and dialogue until I get on and write it! I had the idea for a story set in the early 1990s, based on the rock bands of that era – long hair, spandex, screaming guitars… That was my era too. I was a big fan of the second wave of glam rock and went to dozens of concerts, my favourite venue being Nottingham Rock City in the UK, which will feature in the story. At least I have plenty of experience to draw on for that one! I’ve almost finished the first chapter of it.
I post news on my current and up-coming works on my blog and my Facebook page regularly, below:-
Facebook – www.facebook.com/louiselyonsauthor
I write in the genre of MM Romance, but within that, I write Contemporary, Coming of Age, Supernatural/Paranormal. My release, Conflicted, is Contemporary:-
eBook – http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5329
Paperback - http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5330
Question: What is your favourite genre and what are you reading now?
August 20, 2014
This is something I’ll be talking about quite a bit over the next few weeks on my blog tour. I get my inspiration from lots of different things. It could be the lyrics of a song, or from someone or something that I see. It might be from my own experience. For instance, an idea for a future story is based on a young guy who has escaped from a situation involving domestic violence, which is something I went through many years ago – and happily escaped from.
The inspiration for Conflicted came from my own love of all things motor. I’m a bit of a tomboy and I love cars and motorcycles. I have a lovely sporty car and am a member of an owners club, so I get to do some of the things that Greg and Paul do in the book. I attend car shows and exhibit my car and I enjoy watching drag racing at a nearby venue. Going to these types of events gave me the idea for the book and because I’d already been to so many of them, I didn’t have to do much in the way of research.
I chose two of my favourite car models for Greg and Paul – a yellow Nissan R33 Skyline for Greg and a black Ford Capri for Paul. My first two cars were Ford Capris, so although Paul complains about not having much money and having to buy a wreck to fix up, he does love the car really.
Conflicted buy link - http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5329
You might not be an enthusiast, but maybe you have a favourite car too? My pride and joy is a Mitsubishi FTO affectionately known as Ed (the silver car pictured).
Question: What model of car do you like and why?
August 20, 2014
Now for an excerpt from Conflicted. As you might have gathered from the blurb, Paul and Greg aren’t friends. In fact they have always disliked each other and kept their distances. The pair have only recently discovered that each other is gay and that none of their friends and family know about it. They run into each other again in a gay bar and things go a little differently than they except.
Greg went to the bar to get a beer and was just handing over the money when he noticed the very man he had been hoping to avoid was right next to him, nursing his own bottle of Budweiser.
“I thought you went to a bar in Stevenage,” Paul commented without looking at Greg.
“I couldn’t be bothered driving over there tonight,” Greg said and gulped some of his beer. He leaned against the bar and glanced at Paul. His gray T-shirt looked about three sizes too small and only emphasized the size of his shoulders and broad back. Intentional, no doubt. His faded jeans were even tighter, and clung to his muscular thighs and firm ass as if they were painted on. Damn, he was hot, and Greg wanted to kick himself for thinking that.
“Not even in the new car?” Paul turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. His eyes were deep brown and piercing, as if he were looking into Greg rather than at him.
“Nice, by the way. Shame we don’t all have rich parents to shower us with toys like that.”
It was just what Greg expected – a brief compliment quickly crushed by an insult. He was immediately pissed.
“You know nothing about it,” he growled.
Paul shrugged. “I can’t blame you. I wouldn’t have said no either.”
“Listen, Appleton, I won’t pretend I’m not smug as hell driving around in an R34, but I didn’t ask for it and to be honest, I would rather have bought a car I can afford with my own money, which I do earn, by the way. I don’t just live off of them like a fucking leech!”
“Alright, chill, I’m sorry,” Paul said.
“Yeah, well, it gets up my nose that people think I’m rich and spoiled when I work hard like anybody else. I can’t help the fact that I got adopted by the Buchanans. I came from an ordinary family, same as most people, even you.”
“My family was anything but ordinary,” Paul grumbled. “So how come you were adopted anyway?”
“You actually want to know?” Greg asked in surprise.
“Yeah, why not?”
“Okay, we might as well get a seat, then.” Greg turned away from the bar and headed for a corner away from the main bustle, leaving Paul to follow if he felt like it. Greg wasn’t particularly delighted by the prospect of spending more time with him, but since he was here, there wasn’t much else Greg could do. Annoyingly, his pulse sped up as he made his way to an unoccupied corner bench and sat down. He chewed his lip. Paul was still at the bar, speaking to someone he apparently knew, but a moment later, he moved away and walked toward Greg. Fuck, those jeans were tight, and Greg would have bet Paul had no underwear on either.
Jesus, don’t stare. He shifted his eyes up – to bulging pecs. Heat rushed to his groin, and he tried to think about something else. The last thing he wanted was a hard-on, but too long with no fun except for his own hands, and now the company of the hottest guy in the pub, had him stiffening regardless. Greg wondered what the chances were. Would Paul be up for it? Greg knew nothing about him, but he couldn’t imagine him being shy. Greg would bet Paul would shag anything that looked twice at him – or certainly play around with them.
“So? You were going to tell me where you came from,” Paul prompted, dropping onto the seat a little distance away, facing Greg.
“Uh…um…yeah, well, my parents were just ordinary – my dad was a builder and my mum was a waitress. They died in a car crash when I was sixteen.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Paul said with a frown. “Did they treat you okay?”
“My parents? Of course, why wouldn’t they?” That comment puzzled Greg, but he carried on talking. Anything to stop himself imagining Paul’s hand, which was gripping his beer bottle, wrapped around Greg’s cock instead. “They had a huge mortgage, the house got repossessed after they died, and the system didn’t want to know. I lived on the streets for a year, then ended up in hospital, and Agnes Buchanan, who was there doing charity work, took pity on me. And the rest is history.”
“That was lucky.” Paul nodded. “What put you in hospital?”
“A bloke with a knife.”
“So, how did you end up living with…Stewart Sanders, is it?” Greg asked.
“It’s a long story,” Paul grunted. “I left home when I was sixteen, and he and Abby took me in.”
“Why did you leave?”
Paul scowled and drained the rest of his beer before answering. “It’s not important.”
“Humor me,” Greg said, genuinely interested.
“I’m not here to entertain you!” Paul snapped and got to his feet.
“Hey…” Greg protested. Hell, the guy had a chip on his shoulder. A huge chip. And he was about to walk away from Greg just when he was beginning to convince himself that they were getting along, and that he might possibly get his hand inside those tight jeans later. But Paul was already walking to the bar.
“Shit!” Greg growled under his breath. He was annoyed that Paul walked away and more annoyed still that he was disappointed. It had seemed like they might be starting to move past what happened at Octane, and Greg hoped the stupid feud might have been forgotten too.
Paul hadn’t gone far. He had wedged himself between two men at the bar and was waiting to be served another drink. Greg stared at his ass until he turned around again and then quickly dropped his eyes and pretended interest in the last mouthful of beer in his bottle.
“Sorry.” Paul appeared at the other side of the table, placed a fresh bottle of Bud in front of Greg, and then stepped over his legs and took up his original seat, maybe a foot closer to Greg than before.
“No, I’m sorry. I suppose I come across as if I’m prying, but really, I’m just interested.”
The corner of Paul’s mouth twitched up slightly into a hint of a smile. “Just don’t ask me about family.”
“Okay. So can I ask about your job at the club? Don’t they need you on a Friday night?”
“They rotate the weekend days off. It’s my first in the month I’ve been there. It’s a good job – decent pay too, better than the shitty warehouse I was in before.”
“Yeah, I imagine bouncers get paid pretty well.” Greg nodded. “Do you have to use your fists much?” Damn, Greg, what the hell did you say that for? He cursed himself.
Paul grinned. “Not really. You get more trouble with drunken girls trying to slobber all over you.” He pulled a face. “If there’s real trouble, you diffuse it rather than add to it. I do kickboxing and jujitsu to help with that.”
“Cool,” Greg said. It was something they had in common. “I did kickboxing for a few years. I’ve been thinking about taking up something else too.”
Paul nodded and took another drink. Greg watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed and imagined his lips were wrapped around his cock instead of the bottle. He shifted awkwardly and rested his arm across his lap, hoping not to draw attention to the fact that he was getting uncomfortably hard. Paul lowered the bottle, and his eyes slid from Greg’s face, down his chest, and fixed on exactly what he was hoping Paul wouldn’t look at. He grinned and trapped the tip of his tongue between his teeth. Oh fuck. He was checking Greg out and way more obviously than Greg was checking him.
Should Greg ignore it, or go with it? Did he seriously want to get off with Paul? How difficult would that make things if they ran into each other at shows or something in the future? What the hell would the family say if they found out? What on earth was Greg thinking when he considered taking a chance with a person who went out of his way to make trouble for himself and others?
Greg thought for another minute and realized that it was going to be the only chance he had, at least for that evening. Besides, who was going to know? Paul didn’t want anyone finding out about him anymore than Greg did.
“What are you looking at?” Greg grunted as a way of starting a sort of flirting interaction.
“Isn’t it obvious? Like my company, do you?” Paul responded.
“It seems like it, doesn’t it?”
Paul arched an eyebrow and leaned back. He shifted his ass forward on the seat and drew attention to the fact that the ridiculously tight jeans were virtually crushing him. Greg could make out the head of his cock pushing against the fabric. He wondered if it was his imagination or if he was more turned on than he’d ever been in his life.
Question: Do you think these guys are a good match? Greg – blond, blue-grey eyes, all muscles and with a twinkle in his eye, and Paul – dark and brooding, brown eyes, tough guy who tells himself love isn’t worth it, because you’ll only get hurt?
August 20, 2014
Hello, this is Louise Lyons and I’m here to chat to you lovely people for the afternoon/evening, depending on where you are in the world. It’s 4.30pm here in the UK and I’ll be around for a few hours. I’m looking forward to meeting you all, so please come and say ‘hi’. I’ll be posting some information about me and my book, and there will be a giveaway later on, so I hope you enjoy the party!
My first novel, Conflicted, is released today and I’m full of excitement and nerves. I’m sure many of you have been here already! I’ll start off by letting you read the blurb, in case you’ve not yet had the opportunity…
Two competing gangs of car and drag racing enthusiasts with a shared history of pain and rivalry leading to outright hatred. Two men from opposite sides of the tracks, yet more in common than they’d like to admit.
Paul Appleton is a troubled man who has never been in a relationship, having lost everyone he cared for in his life. His mother died when he was very young and subsequently, he lost his brother and his best friend. Now Paul is convinced love will always end in tears.
Greg was living on the streets after his parents died and was stabbed by a junkie, ending up in hospital. The Buchanans took Greg under their wing while doing charity work, and Greg joined their loving family when he was adopted. He and his siblings are also car enthusiasts with much more money and therefore better cars than Paul Appleton’s gang.
When they eventually find a connection, Paul fights his feelings and tries to convince himself his lover is only a temporary bit of fun, but Greg has other ideas.
Conflicted is available as both an eBook and Paperback, links below.
eBook - http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5329
Question: Are any of you interested in this type of scene yourself? If not, is there a particular type of show you like to go to? Planes, pets, crafts, sports?
August 19, 2014
‘The Bear Next Door’
By Jack Byrne
Rob Johnson is a cattleman, and a bear. He has an estranged son and a sad past, and he pretty much keeps to himself. But when golden boy Bryce Philipson inherits the farm next door, and sets eyes on Rob, Bryce becomes determined to win over the burly, gruff bear. Trouble is, Rob has no interest in being ‘won over’ and thinks Bryce is a spoiled rich kid and way too young for him.
What inspired me to write ‘The Bear Next Door.’
When I saw the submission call for this, basically I couldn’t resist. I have a close friend who is a bear, and he is such an amazing combination of self-confidence, vulnerability, protectiveness, sweetness and sheer raw power, that I thought it would a challenge to try to put that all into a character in a story.
Excerpt from ‘The Bear Next Door.’
Rob worked his way slowly along the fence line, farther and farther from the pickup. When he was about 150 feet from the pickup, groaning as he straightened up from squatting down to the lowest part of a post to tie off the wire run for about the sixteenth time, he was startled to hear a voice behind him. “Could you use a hand?”
He spun around to see Bryce standing there.
Rob, covered in sweat and without his shirt, felt his face warm up with embarrassment.
“What are you doing back on my property?”
“If you like, I’ll jump back over the fence, so then I’d be on my property. Which raises the question, why didn’t you ask for my help to fix this fence? It’s a big job, and a bit of neighborly help wouldn’t have gone astray. Plus it’s my fence too.”
Rob didn’t know what to say, so characteristically said nothing and turned back to his work.
To his surprise, Bryce produced a pair of thick leather gloves out of his pocket and reached into the bucket of ties, bringing out a fistful, and said, “We’ll take turns, okay? It’ll halve your workload.”
Rob nodded curtly, acutely aware of his lack of shirt and the other man’s occasional glance at his exposed body.
They worked away, and soon Rob noticed Bryce’s shirt begin to darken with sweat. As he walked past, Rob said, “You should take your shirt off. You’ll get heatstroke.”
“I would, but I’d sunburn.”
“Oh. Yeah, right.” Rob hadn’t considered what it would be like to not have a protective pelt over your body.
“I don’t suppose you sunburn. Lucky devil.”
“Lucky? Jesus.” Rob half-smiled.
“What?” Bryce’s voice was mild and curious, not judging at all, and Rob felt himself relax a little.
Rob volunteered, “I don’t burn easily, but I don’t tan either. Never look like you, all….” He stopped himself.
They worked on in silence, and the job passed surprisingly quickly. Rob tied off the last post and reinforced the fastenings on the end post, and then they turned to walk back to get the pickup from the far end of the paddock.
“Thanks for your help, Bryce.”
Rob couldn’t help sneaking a look at his companion and was rewarded with a cheerful smile from Bryce, which just made him feel embarrassed all over again.
They walked in silence for a while. Then Rob ventured, “I didn’t really think you’d be back here after what I said last time we spoke.”
Bryce chuckled. “Yeah, what was that about? I’ve sure never been called a ‘scrawny little piece’ of anything before.”
“Oh, you know,” Rob said apologetically. “I just meant, you’re awfully young to be… looking to someone like me to go out with.”
“How about you let me decide that, Rob?”
Rob subsided into what was rapidly becoming a habitual embarrassed silence around Bryce. After a while, noticing Bryce glancing at him several times, he said quietly, “Well, I’m sorry I spoke to you like that.”
“Would you go out with me?” asked Bryce suddenly. “I mean, now that you’ve got over the shock of it, me asking you?”
“Shock? No.” Rob scratched his neck thoughtfully. “I just—you’re so young. Why wouldn’t you go out with someone your own age? Surely you’d have more in common?”
Bryce stopped walking. They were still about 150 feet from the pickup. Rob stopped and turned reluctantly to face him, impatient to get back to his shirt and hide his unsightly, hirsute body from the smooth-skinned Bryce.
Bryce looked at him with unsettling sincerity and asked, “What if I said I find you incredibly attractive, and that I don’t care about your age?”
Rob, dumbfounded, just stood staring at the splendid young man with the earnest face and decided he’d better get his hearing checked at the first opportunity.
“Attractive? Me?” he said stupidly.
Bryce took a step closer and raised his hand to brush his fingers along Rob’s forearm. It tickled like hell, and Rob sucked in his breath but then couldn’t think of anything to say. Bryce looked at Rob’s hairy torso and said quietly, “I happen to find this an incredible turn-on, the hair. Up until an hour ago I could have lived with you rejecting me. But seeing you like this, in all your glory, I’m not gonna give up that easy anymore.”
Rob looked down at himself incredulously. “This? Me? You like this?” He frowned.
Bryce smiled and stepped a little closer, giving his right hand an opportunity to drift down the downy surface of Rob’s chest. Rob found it a little hard to breathe all of a sudden, and looked down into soft hazel eyes. It dawned on Rob that they were having a moment.
Bryce spoke again in that quiet voice. “I do like this, very much. I think you are one of the hottest men I have ever clapped eyes on. So powerful, so utterly masculine.” His fingers closed on the dense, curly hair over Rob’s chest and tightened, and he pulled Rob closer to him, tilting his handsome, golden face up to meet Rob’s gaze. “I could tap this.”
Rob didn’t quite know what to do, so he put a hand over the fist curled tightly on his chest and said, “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“Don’t I?” There was a challenge in Bryce’s hazel eyes, and Rob couldn’t help but respond. He leaned down and hesitated, surveying the handsome young face. Then, to his surprise, Bryce stood up on tiptoes and met his mouth in a warm, inviting kiss.
It was nice. It was extraordinarily nice, and Rob blinked as Bryce pulled away. Bryce looked up at him, the doubt creeping back into his expression. There was a moment, and Rob said softly, “Could you do that again, please?”
August 19, 2014
The Bear King of Snowbird Mountain
My first book, never to be published in its current form, was an all-tell, tell-all memoir. Sticking to the facts without incriminating myself was a challenge. I ended up leaving out a lot of good stuff. I’m much happier writing fiction where the shackles of what really happened no longer bind me.
Folks who’ve read my novels will likely be surprised by my first short story. My novels depict gay life at different points in time from the 1960s to today. “Writing stories true enough for government work” is my slogan. I’m all about reality. I have no idea why this story went so far in the other direction.
The Bear King of Snowbird Mountain was inspired by an incident from my wild and occasionally slutty past. Fictionalizing this chance encounter allowed me to obscure what really happened with embellishments, fabrications, and outright lies. Next thing you know, I’d written a story about a bear shifter.
Don’t ask me what’s real and what’s made up. I’ll never tell, and I haven’t seen the only guy who’d know in more than fifteen years. If he reads the story, there’s enough truth for him to know he’s one of the characters. Maybe he’ll even look me up.
- Michael Rupured, author of “The Bear King of Snowbird Mountain” in A Taste of Honey
August 19, 2014
It was wonderful to receive a Call for Submission from B.g. Thomas for “A Taste of Honey” and even better to have my story chosen among the contributions of many talented writers for this Bear anthology. Of course, for Dreamspinner’s “gay romantic fiction,” I had to tone things down a bit from my previous efforts.
I wanted to write about something of great relevance to Bears and decided, drawing upon personal experience, to have my protagonist go for a sleep study to see if he needed a CPAP machine. Timely topic, yes, but what’s romantic about it? Guess it depends upon who’s conducting the study, as seen in this excerpt from my story “Just Breathe”:
Grabbing the remote and propping himself up near the headboard, Will remembered Friday was a shitty night for TV. That’s because people with lives and loves are out doing something fun to celebrate tonight. Jeez, even my mom’s going to Bingo after she feeds my cat. He flipped through the channels on the cable guide and was wondering if they had more than basic when there was a knock at the door.
Turning it off, he said, “Yep, come in.”
The door opened and admitted one tall, deeply tan, and very handsome Daddybear wearing blue scrubs and holding a manila file folder. He immediately hit Will’s top three criteria for ursine hotness: bald, glasses, and facial hair, a full auburn beard with just a few strands of gray at the chin. The fur coating his muscled forearms and pouring from the V-cut of his shirt was extra icing on his beefcake.
Looking at the top of his file, he said in a deep baritone, “William Bancroft?”
“Yep, Will’s fine.”
“Any relation to Anne?”
“No, but I get that a lot.”
“Just thought I’d ask,” he said, giving Will eye contact and a strong handshake before they both sat down. “My name’s Les, and I’ll be your sleep technician this evening. I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable and found the remote, so we’ll get you all hooked up and ready for bed, okay?”
“Sure,” Will said, trying to retain eye contact with those deep blue eyes but occasionally having to look away. God, he’s handsome.
“So Marcy told me you haven’t had any caffeine or alcohol today and were nodding off involuntarily this afternoon?” Les asked as he opened the folder.
“Feeling tired now?”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually,” he said, flashing a smile of straight but slightly yellowed teeth. “It says here we’ll be doing an EEG to monitor brainwaves, the usual airway and heart hookups, and an NPT test, right?”
“Right. Wait, what does NPT stand for?”
“That would be a Nocturnal Penile Tumescence test.”
Rut-roh! Wonder what that test involves and whether Will is going to pass? Any Bears out there had the (dis) pleasure of a sleep study, or are sleeping more soundly with a CPAP these days? Ever had a “forbidden” crush on your health professional? Are you wondering where the romance begins here? Feel free to post your responses to these questions, and be sure to order your own paperback or e-copy to enjoy even more of “A Taste of Honey.”
- John Genest, author of “Just Breathe” from A Taste of Honey
August 19, 2014
Have you ever seen that one chiller cabinet at the supermarket? The one where everyone is crowded around if you get there at just the right time.
The cheapie shelf. That’s what it is called in my family.
Stacks of fresh and chilled produce that according to the sell by date will become totally inedible at the stroke of midnight.
Maybe you seen it but never gotten close enough, not brave enough to fight your way through the crowd. What types of people are jostling for the best position at the shelves?
I’m quick to fill my basket with things that can be frozen for use at a later date or a sweet treat for after our dinner that night.
My stepdad claims he hasn’t paid the original marked price for a leg of lamb in years.
The smelly man in too many layers who drives all but the most determined bargain hunters away.
The elderly couple, discreetly counting out their pennies to see if they can afford that reduced price joint of meat.
Or are some people there more altruistic than the rest of us, picking up the treasures for the benefit of others.
And that is where the seeds for this story were planted. Curiosity about my fellow scavengers.
Maybe I even saw the hairy mountain man that would become Finn. I honestly can’t remember, but he came to me pretty much fully formed, just waiting for a name and a back story.
They say inspiration can come from anywhere. A trip to the supermarket? Who’d have thought it.
- Lillian Francis, author of “Barefoot” in A Taste of Honey
August 19, 2014
On Not Being a Bear
Welcome to the “A Taste of Honey” blog takeover to celebrate the launch of this great new bear anthology. During the day today, various authors form our new anthology will be taking over the Dreamspinner blog. We hope you enjoy it (and buy the book!!!).
I’m not a bear.
I’m also not a cub, twink, a gym bunny, a leather daddy, a chubby chaser, Castro clone (man does that date me!) or a metrosexual.
I might be an otter. I’ll have to get back to you on that one.
But what I am, unabashedly, is a fan of LGBT(IQQA) diversity. It fascinates me that there are so many kinds of people under our little rainbow – people who are lipstick lesbians, butch dykes, bisexuals, asexuals, transgender, bi-curious, gay allies, drag queens, fruit flies, fag hags, tops, bottoms, switches and so many more.
So when I saw Dreamspinner’s call for stories about Bear romance for the “A Taste of Honey” anthology, I knew I had to give it my own personal twist.
What would it be like, I wondered, if my main character, the guy who walks into a bar and stops hearts, suddenly had to see the world through the eyes of a bear? To be confronted with the fact that the whole world really doesn’t revolve around him and his rock-hard six-pack abs?
Another thing I never was in high school was popular. I was the skinny gay kid who bought the clothes that looked cool on the popular kids and somehow transformed into so not cool on me.
My sympathy’s always been with the little guy, the “loser”, the geek who doesn’t always get the guy.
So it was a lot of fun to put my muscle boy into the body of someone he considers a loser, only to discover… well, I can’t really tell you, ’cause that would spoil the ending.
We have a great group of authors in this one. For me, it’s my first published story; for others, it’s their first with Dreamspinner, while others are old hands.
I’ve gotten to know them over the past few weeks, and am excited that you’ll have the chance to do so too through this great anthology. And huge kudos for B.g. Thompson, the author and editor who conceived of and edited the project, and to Ann Regan, the Dreamspinner editor who helped make it a reality.
So here is our gift to the rainbow that is the Queer Community – and especially, our love letter to the Bears out there.
- J. Scott Coatsworth, author of “The Bear at the Bar” in A Taste of Honey
August 13, 2014
Thanks everyone for letting me take over the blog today. Meet-cute is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and DSP. Hope you check it out.