When I sit down to write I usually think of everything from the male point of view. I’ve found that writing male characters is easier for me. My very first book, Murder Stalks, focus on Tony, a cop in south Texas who has bad stuff happen to him and oh yeah, I threw in a wife. The only gay stories I ever read were sad stories about suicide and death where the guys never got together in the end. They were just unhappy, and depressed, dying a horrible lonely death. I didn’t want to write a depressing story. I mean even my darkest thrillers still have a happy ending of some sort.
Then I found a story that was fun, sexy and full of happiness for the two guys. Just the type of story I wanted to write. I stopped writing on my paranormal and scifi stories and began my first male/male novel. The first M/M story was Selling It, a suspense story based on teen prostitution focusing on one tough cop. Then I stopped on Selling It for a few months. The age thing bugged me because a few of the characters in Selling It are underage and having sex. Then I wrote Surprise Sleepover and Working It Out.
I’ve had people ask how I could write stories with two men getting it on. I’ve always found it easier to write men. Doing research is paramount in writing. I love doing research. I’ve dressed up in full SWAT gear, climbed a fire ladder, shot guns and other fun activities all in the name of research, but I will never feel what it’s like to be a cop or to plan a murder. But I write some fairly good cop dramas and murders.
In doing research for Male/Male stories I asked questions, read a lot, read some more, asked more questions and did research. Researching gay life is so much more fun than researching how to kill, trust me on this. I’ve learned so much, though I know there’s always more to learn.
The set of stories I’m writing now are based in Texas. Three novels all set north of Houston in a small town. Writing about cowboys was a natural progression since I grew up on a cattle ranch. Cows, horses and cowboys, what more could you ask for? They are sexy and hell bent on getting into trouble.
After the cowboys, I’m going to reach for the stars and write more sci-fi. I hope that my stories help people to find happiness. Maybe think a little about life and acceptance of others. I’m glad I found the Male/Male genre. I love the stories and the people in the community. I hope you enjoy my books.
Selling It Blurb
Love heals all scars.
Teens are dying and Blaine Wilson, a DC police detective, knows why. The scars on his right leg, left rib cage and left collar bone are a brutal reminder of his past as a teen prostitute, and a key to solving this investigation.
Blaine’s trips to gay bars are reckless but he’s searching for solace for his wounds. When he meets Andy everything changes. Dating Andy forces him out of the closet at work and then he has to admit his past indiscretions to his captain.
Andy falls in love at the drop of a hat and he's promised his two best friends he won't fall so easily again. When he meets Blaine he's helpless to resist the instant attraction.
Andy and Blaine are dedicated to making their relationship work when the killer targets Andy and his two best friends. Can Blaine save his lover and Andy’s friends without losing himself?
Reader Advisory: This book deals with issues relating to male teen prostitution, including non-graphic references to underage sex. It also includes themes of murder and violence against gay men, and occasional scenes from the point of view of a homophobic villain.
Excerpt for Selling It
Blaine placed his order for hot wings, deciding that if the man was still staring at him when he turned around, he would approach him. Okay, time to turn around and see if the cutie is still watching.
He turned slowly, expecting nothing, but when his gaze connected with Mr Cutie-Pie’s the smile that lit his face was genuine. Blaine forgot trying to be cool and just headed straight for the man. When Blaine got closer, he saw the man’s eyes were such a beautiful shade of green that he wanted to just stare at him all day long. The desire to kiss the stranger rolled through him but knew he wouldn’t act on his impulse. Too many trips upstairs had made him rusty at romance.
“I couldn’t help but notice you staring at me,” Blaine said.
The other guy blushed and smiled. “I’m Andy.” He held out his hand for a firm handshake and pulled Blaine closer. Andy squeezed Blaine’s arm. “Yum, I could just eat you up.”
Blaine laughed, loving the tickle of Andy’s breath on his ear. Andy stepped off the stool he was sitting on and Blaine realised the guy was his height or slightly taller. He usually targeted shorter men. Not that it was an ego thing, just a stature thing.
“So, what’s your name, Mr Delicious?”
Heat crept up Blaine’s neck. “I’m Blaine Wilson.”
“Oh, you gave me your last name. Means you want more than just a quick fuck.”
Blaine’s face heated. He’d been wondering if this man would go upstairs with him. “I didn’t come for that tonight. Not that I’m not wondering if you would be up for a bit of bumping, but for some reason I don’t want our relationship to be over that quickly.”
“Relationship? A bit heavy on the accelerator there—might want to tap the brakes.”
Blaine felt heat rush to his face. “Wow, I’m messing this up tonight.”
“Hmm, I like you and you aren’t messing anything up.”
“I know we don’t have anything yet, but I have a feeling our unattached status won’t last for long.”
“Who says I’m not attached?”
Blaine felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. He’d never felt this type of connection to another man so quickly. Even Ian, the last person he’d been intimate with outside of Clinks, hadn’t elicited a response like this.
Andy stepped closer and slid his arms around Blaine’s waist. Their gazes connected and Blaine wondered how hot a human could get before he would combust into flames. Andy leaned in, his lips only inches from Blaine’s ear, his breath tickling Blaine’s neck.
“I’m not attached, by the way.” Andy slid his hand up to Blaine’s shoulder and squeezed, then stepped away as the waiter slid Blaine’s hot wings onto the table.
“Anyone want another beer?” the waiter questioned.
“I’ll take another Shiner,” Andy said.
“I’m good.” Blaine’s stomach grumbled. It had been hours since he’d last eaten. “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead. I’ve already had a basket of wings. They were delicious, too.”
“The best in town.”
“So, Mr Tall, Dark and Much Too Handsome to be a Politician, what do you do?” Andy asked.
Blaine laughed, as he washed down the burn from the hot sauce. “That’s a huge compliment.”
“Well, you are rather good-looking. I think we’ve already established that fact.”
“No, the ‘not a politician’ part,” Blaine said.
“So you’re not a politician. Wait, don’t tell me, let me guess.”
“Go for it.”
Andy stepped back and studied him. Blaine liked the way Andy raked his body with his eyes. The man knew how to make him feel good about himself.
“You’re wearing slacks and they aren’t cheap polyester, so you aren’t a fast food manager. You smell great so I know you aren’t a sanitation engineer.”
“That’s just a fluke. Some days I come off the job smelling like crap. I probably shouldn’’t tell you, but I do want to be fair.”
“Okay, so today must have been a good day.”
“Actually, no. Today totally sucked. Not at all a good day.”
“Hmm.” Andy walked around, stopping behind him.
Blaine felt Andy’s fingers dig into his shoulders, rubbing and pressing into his muscles. He almost dropped a hot wing but gripped the food tighter.
Andy rubbed his shoulders more, hitting all of Blaine’s sore spots.
“Dang, that feels great.”
“You have loads of tension in your shoulders. So when you have a good day you stink, bad day you smell great. You could be a car salesman, but since you haven’t tried to get me into a car I’m thinking you aren’t.”
“So far you’re doing good.”
Andy came back around and sat down in front of him. “Can I see your hands?”
Blaine wiped the saucy mess off his hands and held them out. “What do you think?”
Andy took both of Blaine’s hands in his, sending a shiver straight through Blaine’s body to his dick. Andy hung his head over Blaine’s hands and grunted a few times, totally oblivious to the havoc he was wreaking in Blaine’s body.
“Getting anything from my hands?”
“You mean other than a massive hard-on for you?” Andy winked then went back to studying Blaine’s hands.
Blaine blew out a deep breath. The man was almost too much. His touch was driving Blaine crazy. He wanted to pull Andy into a tight hug and kiss him.
“Your right hand has more calluses. See, right here.” Andy ran his fingers over the palm of Blaine’s gun hand.
“And—see here?—you have a very unusual wear pattern between your thumb and your first finger. Your fingernails are neatly trimmed and the ridges of your fingerprints have definition.”
“So what does all of this mean to you?” Blaine slid closer to Andy, wanting to catch another sniff of his delicious scent.
“You aren’t at a computer all day. Your arms are strong. The first finger on your right hand is your strongest. You have unusual wear patterns on your right hand. Maybe if you jerked me off I could determine cause.”
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