I have a new audiobook, The Isle of… Where? out with Dreamspinner. Over on my blog I have a giveaway which runs until 20th February for a copy of the audiobook.
I have a new audiobook, The Isle of… Where? out with Dreamspinner. Over on my blog I have a giveaway which runs until 20th February for a copy of the audiobook.
I live in Wiltshire. It’s a pretty county with rolling downs, ancient woodland and sleepy villages. It’s home to Stonehenge and to a wealth of ancient earthworks. People have lived here for centuries.
Our village lies in a little valley. To walk anywhere out of the village pretty much involves an uphill climb. It’s sheltered from the worst of the winds that sweep across this island from time to time. Some say that it has its own micro-climate. I’m not sure about that. When this part of the world gets rain, so do we.
As anyone who watches the news will know, Britain has been hammered by a succession of angry little storms from the Atlantic. The snow that slammed into parts of the USA translated to rain as it crossed the ocean. As a result, parts of this country have been inundated. The Somerset Levels have been underwater since the beginning of January and now the Thames has risen and spilled into villages and towns along its banks.
Because of our location, we get a lot of water. All this rain has saturated the soil—the water has nowhere else to go. It’s made its presence known with overflowing wells, springs bursting up through the ground, manhole covers, drains and, worst of all, in houses. Our road is no exception. About a week ago, a spring burst up on the road, spilling a steady stream of water down the street, then as the rains continued, another smaller spring opened up in the grass verge. Combine with this, run off from the farmer’s fields up the road, water from houses being pumped out and endless bloody rain, and the street becomes a river.
Yesterday’s rain was really the final straw. The river became a restless torrent, lapping at the pavement, carrying silt and twigs in the current. A neighbour waded across the stream and the water was up past her ankles. Not really what you want to see on the road. We’re lucky, most of the houses in this part of the village are set higher. Other places haven’t been so fortunate. Last night we had two fire crews and volunteers piling up sandbags in the village square. Members of the village’s emergency planning committee went from door to door checking on people, making sure they were all right.
Mercifully, there was no further substantial rain in the night and the water on the road is receding a little. Hopefully, they will continue to recede although the Environment Agency tells us that the water will be around for a while because it’ll take some time to work its way down into the sodden ground.
It’s been scary, but it’s also been quite a heartwarming experience. This village is a very friendly, welcoming place and the recent travails have brought out the best in everyone. We all look out for each other, we all have something to talk about when we go to the shop or sit in the pub. If you’re going to be flooded, this is the village to be living in.
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Jamie has a good feeling when he meets and falls in love with Connor, an Army captain destined for Afghanistan. Will that good feeling survive Connor’s deployment?
Jamie never expects to meet the love of his life in a tea shop. He never expects his lover, Connor, to be an Army officer about to return to Afghanistan for one last deployment and he certainly never expects that, after three short months together, Connor would want to spend the rest of his life with Jamie. When Connor leaves for Afghanistan, Jamie can’t help but worry that his lover might not make it back alive. He also worries that Connor, who hasn’t told his men he’s gay, doesn’t want him to be waiting at the base when he returns. Will the good feelings he has about their future together survive their separation?
Love is like racing across frozen tundra on a snowmobile which flips over, trapping you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come ~ Matt Groening
Maybe this quote just resonates with me because the Missouri-Kansas Border feels like we’re on the planet Hoth right now. The weather is just starting to break after two weeks of frigid temperatures.
Love and life are little bit like that. We clip along great speed, then bam!, some obstacle appears in our way. And we all know when it rains, it pours. It’s also true in my latest novel, Disappear With Me.
Enter a comment below including your name and email address, and you will be entered to win a copy of Disappear With Me in the format of your choice! The giveaway will be drawn on Tuesday 18th February at 10am GMT.
Can’t wait for the drawing? Both #disappearwithme and #APTCTO are on sale for 1.25 ($1.99 US) through February 21!
In the novel, we see Leander meet his first love, find his true love, and dabble in forbidden love. Just when Leander’s life seems to be going well, he’s thrown an obstacle, either in love or in life.
But that’s what makes fiction interesting, right?
Here’s a bit more about Disappear With Me:
Love is greater than hope or faith, but can Reverend Leander Norris convince a jury that the love he shares with another man is natural?
In 1910, the United Kingdom was in turmoil. King Edward died after only nine years on the throne. The social class system that upheld British society for centuries was being chipped away by social, political, and economic unrest across the Commonwealth. Amidst this backdrop, Reverend Leander Norris is accused of sodomy. After discovering his own self-worth and unconditional love, Leander finds the courage to stand up for what he believes is right and pleads not guilty to the charges. Throughout the trial, Leander’s past is revealed, including the temptations that bring the accusations against him. By the end of the trail, Leander is once again reunited with a romantic interest from the past, but it may be too late to rekindle any love that might remain, given the circumstances of the era and Leander’s likely sentence.
For an excerpt, click here:
Is it possible for two Civil War veterans to find their place in the world on the Kansas Prairie?
My first novel, A Place to Call Their Own is available from Amazon US!
Love is greater than hope or faith, but can Reverend Leander Norris convince a jury that the love he shares with another man is natural? Available from Amazon US.
With inspiration from historical tourism sites, the love of reading, and a desire to write a novel, L. Dean Pace-Frech started crafting his debut novel, A Place to Call Their Own, in 2008. After four years of writing and polishing the manuscript, he submitted it for publication and Musa Publishing offered him a contract in early 2013. Disappear With Me is his second novel.
Dean lives in Kansas City, Missouri with his partner, Thomas, and their two cats. They are involved in their church and enjoy watching movies, outdoor activities in the warmer weather and spending time together with friends and family. In addition to writing, Dean enjoys reading and patio gardening.
Prior to novels, Dean did some technical writing in his career. He plans to write a sequel to both A Place to Call Their Own and Disappear with Me.
Check out his author page on Amazon UK.
Then request an Authorgraph, an electronic inscription..
Use #APTCTO and #disappearwith me to mention on social media!
Tailor Made by Josephine Myles
When Mr. Wrong measures up just right!
College tart Felix McAvoy is used to causing a stir with his conceptual art pranks, but for his final show he’s planning something even more outrageous. In a last ditch attempt to seduce his jaded tutor, Felix plans to wear the canvas in a subversive display. However, if he’s going to do this right he’ll need a tailor-made canvas suit. Fortunately, he knows just the tailor to turn to for the favour—and Felix isn’t shy about offering favours of a very different kind in return.
First year fashion student Andrew Wheeler knows Felix by reputation only–and plans to keep things that way. Andrew’s determined to save himself for the man of his dreams, and Felix couldn’t be more different from his ideal Mr Right. There’s only one use Andrew will contemplate for Felix’s body: a model for his end of year project. Trouble is, it’s going to involve a lot of close contact with a nearly naked Felix, and Andrew’s never had temptation quite so close at hand!
contemporary, gay erotic romantic comedy
2nd electronic edition: 10th February 2014
Original publication: January 2012, Amber Allure
ebook novella – 29,000 words
Cover art by Lou Harper
Review by LM
Josephine Myles Tailor Made 4 stars
Josephine Myles has given us a delightful tale about the Artist and the Tailor. Felix and Andrew are an odd couple and yet so well rounded and well matched. Their differences enhance the story and their similarities go further than I would have thought at first.
The thing that I admired the most in this book was the imagery. It was perfect for a story about artists.
‘The April sunset unrolled swathes of pinks and gold across the sky’ and
‘Memories of how Felix had felt stitched themselves into the patchwork of Andrew’s dreams’
These rank as two of my favourite sentences in Tailor Made. I believe Josephine Myles shows true talent and skill in the way she uses her characters personality and ability to describe their world. Every facet of this book allowed me to sink into the world of Felix and Andrew, their lives and their talents.
Saul is the perfect non villain for me. He never claims to be anything but what he is. He adds a wonderful level of drama and depth. In the last moments we see Saul I was just cheering! I loved to hate him and yet I just couldn’t really hate him, he provides so much tension for the story and brings it all together.
The location of this book is perfect. Bath, is such a wonderful place and Josephine captures its beauty for the reader to enjoy. I could see the difference between Andrew’s and Felix’s houses and could imagine the walk up and down the hilly city. It doesn’t hurt that Bath is one of my favourite places in England to visit.
Tailor Made is 85 pages of fun, sexy and emotional growth. I read this book in one sitting and I smiled the whole time I was reading. Andrew just made me happy, his quiet determination and beautiful spirit spoke to me. Tailor Made is a great book to read when you want to be happy and enjoy a beautiful, well written book.
This is the second in author Rebecca Cohen’s series about life as an expat.
I miss the sea. Although you could argue, that since I was born and dragged up in Wolverhampton, in the West Midlands, and moved to London in my twenties, I have absolutely no right to do so. But in reality I’m also the daughter of a Cornishman, and I can’t remember a family holiday while growing up when we didn’t either head down to Truro in Cornwall or to Rhyl in north-west Wales.
They were cheap holidays. As a family we didn’t have a lot of money, so visiting relatives in the south-west or making use of a friend’s static caravan in Wales were the options we had. And the biggest draw for me was the sea. It was so much more vibrant that the canals we had back home, and it was free, so there no constraints in using it (unlike the fairground rides!).
My love affair with the sea continued into my adulthood and, before I left the UK, it was somewhere I escaped to if I wanted to clear my mind. I’ve been on holiday with friends, been an assistant stage manager at the Minack Theatre, and my husband even proposed to me on a beach in Cornwall so, you see, I’m a sea-ophile!
This is a photo from the production of War of the Worlds at the Minack Theatre in Cornwall
Maybe I should have thought about this before I moved to a landlocked country. But I am very glad to say the River Rhine has come to my aid. Our apartment sits on the banks of the river and, while it’s not the Atlantic Ocean, I have a pretty nice view of the river and the city. And it does mean I can follow the river to work in the morning. In the summer the locals can often be found cooling off in the river, and there’s even an annual ‘Am Rhine’ swim that takes place every August where you can join thousands of others to float down the river, collect a medal and stop for a mojito at the end.
One of my favourite things about Rhine are the little ferries (fȁhren) that are carried on the current travel from one side of the river to the other on a zip wire.
So, all in all, while I still miss the sea, the Rhine now has a special place in my affections, but it won’t stop me hitting the south-west coast at my first earliest opportunity when back in Blighty!
Bio and Links:
Rebecca Cohen is a Brit abroad. Having swapped the Thames for the Rhine, she has left London behind and now lives with her husband and baby son in Basel, Switzerland. She can often be found with a pen in one hand and a cup of Darjeeling in the other.
DSP author page: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_462
Happy Valentine’s Day, ukgayromancers. Today we have another Rugby themed book, Personal Secrets, this time from my lovely friend, K.C. Wells. Here she talks about how she got into hulking, sweaty men.
Over to you, K.C.
A new fascination with…rugby?
Before we go any further, let me make something perfectly clear.
I am not a rugby fan. Football fan. Cricket fan.
In fact, me and sports? Uh-uh…..
Oh, I’ll watch swimming, ice skating, gymnastics, yeah.
But sports where great hulking men run around a field, chasing a ball, getting hot, dirty and sweaty, resulting in them having to take long showers after in a steamy locker room, standing there together, naked, soapy, their skin glistening, the water sluicing down to their…..
Er, what were we talking about? [blushes]
Oh. Yes. Rugby. [clears throat]
Yeah, I don’t ‘do’ rugby. And yet I’ve just published a story about that very topic. How did I get to this point?
I blame Max Vos. It’s all his fault.
(For those of you unfamiliar with his books, Max Vos is an gay American author of MM books, whose characters are usually hairy bears. And the sex is hot. Max doesn’t pull any punches where sex is concerned.)
Max is also one of my closest friends.
Let’s go back to early last year, when I was writing a story about a closeted publishing executive and his one night stand with an escort, who then turns up the next day as a candidate to be the exec’s new PA. Thus was created the fictional Trinity Publishing.
The office manager was a guy called Ed Fellows. I gave him a biker jacket. Nice touch, I thought.
The book was Making it Personal. Max was reading each chapter as I wrote it. He made a comment about the lack of regional accents in my books, considering they’re set in England. At this point I’d written four books, to be precise.
So… I made Ed a Cockney.
OMG. Max LOVED him! Ed was brash, funny…and straight. He was a breath of fresh air. And my readers liked him.
Toward the end of the year, I wrote a short story, set in the Trinity world, and the events in it took place after the epilogue of Making it Personal, some five-six years after the story.
Max asked if I was going to put Ed in it.
Then he came up with a brainwave. “Why don’t you make him a rugby player? And he comes to the hospital all dirty, after drinking with his team-mates in the pub all afternoon and evening, after the match?”
Hmmm…. Now there’s an idea.
So Ed went into the story, along with his team-mate, Colin, who drove the drunken guy to the hospital. Colin…who kept sneaking glances at Ed when he thought no one was looking…
Yep, you guessed it. I suddenly had an idea for another Trinity book. And Max was sooooo on board for that one. He was chomping at the bit for me to get started, in fact.
In the meantime, I wrote the second full length book in the now Personal series, Personal Changes. Ed was in that one, too. And I dropped little hints that maybe Ed might not be as innocent as readers might have originally thought.
When the book came out, the pleas started.
“Ed and Colin – do they get a book?”
“OMG – Ed’s story next? Pretty please?”
I thought long and hard about Ed. There wasn’t a lot of physical description in the first book, nor in the short story. Now that I knew I was definitely going to give the last book in the series to Ed, I added a little more in Personal Changes. But when it came to the time to begin writing the final book, Personal Secrets, Max started searching out images to …inspire me.
And boy…did he find one.
Wow. I was drooling. THIS was Ed. This was what was uppermost in my mind when I was writing.
When it came time to design the cover, my wonderful, talented friend Meredith Russell, who has designed all the Personal series covers, sent me a whole pile of pics so I could choose Ed and Colin. Max and I were on Skype, going through them all. Colin was fairly easy. Ed? Not so much.
And then we found him. Oh hell yes.
Okay, so he wasn’t hairy, but Meredith can work miracles. And she did.
And thus came into existence the beautiful cover for Personal Secrets. These two ARE Ed and Colin.
Now, there was one little problem. I couldn’t write about rugby. What did I know about rugby? Max put me onto Donna Gallagher in Australia, who was really helpful. I put together Ed and Colin’s rugby team, along with their positions. And it worked!
The book came out on the 11th. The pleas started pretty much the same day. You see, my fans had been taken with a young rugby player called Rod, who’s only just come out. When he meets the huge – and gay – Derek Miles, you could almost see the sparks. And, of course, the readers wanted Rod and Derek’s story.
Sigh… more rugby?
I said no. That was an end to the Personal series.
No. Sorry, but no.
That was before I woke up yesterday with my head full of stories about rugby players….
I guess I’m going to be writing about rugby players for a while.
Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C.Wells always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way.
K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, where the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings – writing about men in love was even hotter…
K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career.
The laptop still has no idea of what hit it… it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.
To see more of K.C.’s titles, click here
K.C. can be reached via email (email@example.com), on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/KCWellsWorld) or through comments at the K.C.Wells website (www.kcwellsworld.com ) K.C. loves to hear from readers.
Personal Secrets by K.C. Wells
Talk about the morning after the night before…. Ed awakens to find a nearly-naked Colin asleep on his sofa. The problem is that for some reason, he can’t get Colin out of his mind. Okay, so it wasn’t the first blow-job Ed’s ever gotten from a guy—or given, for that matter—but that was a long time ago, right? And why does Ed now want more?
With friends Rick, Angelo, Blake and Will to advise him, Ed finds himself on a completely unfamiliar road, as he struggles to accept that maybe the line he is walking isn’t as straight as he’d first imagined….
T.J. Masters very kindly agreed to give away a copy of his new story, Hands of Power. As this is a rugby-based story *those thighs*, please leave the answer to this question below to join in the draw.
Can you name a country presently taking part in the RBS 6-Nations Tournament?
I will draw a name out of hat on Friday 14th February at 10am GMT.
Hands of Power
Amateur rugby player Richard Doyle is injured in a match and after a visit to a hospital A & E he seeks the help of a sports therapist to get him fit to play again before the next important game. Physiotherapist Alan Jennings is a very fit, attractive and skilled man. Ex-army, divorced and gay, Alan is immediately attracted to his stunningly good looking new client and wastes no time in seducing the younger man and introducing him to the joys of masculine m/m sex. As Richard’s shoulder is treated so a powerful relationship develops between the two men.
The therapist’s powerful hands work their magic on the handsome rugby player and soon he is fit to play again. At the same time he has become a hungry submissive partner in their discrete but intense sexual adventures. The day of the semi-final arrives and Alan accompanies his lover at the request of the team coach in order to look after their star player. After winning a great game the team are ready for their traditional night of drunken celebrations but Richard just wants to get his sexual mentor back to their shared hotel room as soon as possible.
Alan reached down and squeezed my thigh muscle making me wince. I jumped as much from the surprise of him touching my leg as from the sore muscle itself. “I see what you mean,” he said dryly. “Do you need to rush off?”
“No, I have no real plans today. Why?”
“How about I give you a full body, sports massage to release all that muscle tension?”
“Wow, really?” I was more than interested. “I’ve never had a proper one before, do you think it would help?”
“Are you questioning my skill young man?” The question was sternly asked but those bright eyes danced with good humour.
“I would never dream of it.” I pretended to be affronted at the suggestion.
“Glad to hear it. Get yourself stripped off and lie face down on the table,” Alan instructed.
I swallowed hard. “Completely naked you mean?” I tried to tell myself that the squeak in my voice was a manly one.
“Yes,” Alan said, his lips twitching in amusement at my hesitation. “I’ll be using some oil and I don’t want to get any on your clothes, so take everything off.” He raised a sardonic eyebrow. “If you’re that modest I’ll put a towel over that fine ass once you’re lying down.”
Was he really checking out my butt or just using humour to relax me? In truth I was proud of my body and I was vain enough to enjoy showing it off whenever I got the chance. Why then was I feeling awkward in front of somebody who was enjoying the view? He wasn’t the first man to do so, and it had never bothered me before—so why now? I shrugged off the question and took off the rest of my clothes. Once I had lain down as instructed, he placed a folded towel over my backside and then placed one hand on top of it.
“Just try to relax as much as you can,” he said softly, “and when you’re lying comfortably, try not to move.”
I wriggled a bit to get comfortable then he began. He placed his hands between my shoulders and, with strong, confident and yet soothing strokes, he started to rub outwards across my shoulders and down my back. It felt great and it wasn’t long before I relaxed into it. This was obviously a deep massage, so it wasn’t maybe the gentle soothing experience I’d imagined it would be. It was assertive and a much more masculine assault of sensations than I had expected.
Alan was extra careful around the area of my injured shoulder but, for the rest, it became clear he was a man of great strength and skill.
During the upper body part of the massage there was very little said between us but, as his hands moved lower, Alan started to talk a bit more. His fingers lingered over the small of my back, which had always been sensitive so I squirmed a little, but then he changed position and slid his hands smoothly under the towel and along my outer thighs.
“I take it you’re pretty fast on the rugby field,” he said quietly. “You certainly seem to be built for speed.”
“I’m one of the fastest guys on our team,” I admitted. “I’ve played right wing, but I’m actually a bit faster than both of our first-team wingers.”
“Well, you’ve got great legs. I would always place you on the back row, but I guess your strong build is what makes you a good number eight.” All the rugby talk was distracting me as Alan’s powerful hands moved up and down the backs of my thighs digging deep into my hamstrings. “So, are you the guy that gets to stand at the back of the scrum, looking at all those upturned beefy bums while you wait for the ball to drop?” There was laughter in his voice.
“I’ve never quiet thought of it that way—but I guess I am.”
As I replied, I became aware of something happening between my legs. Was I really getting turned on by what this guy was doing? Apparently so. My cock was starting to swell and I was willing it to go down again before he noticed. Then, to my horror, Alan’s hand slid up my inner thigh and brushed the head of my hardening cock making it jerk, but he gave no indication that he’d felt it. He did the same thing once more, before moving over to the other leg and repeating the movement. I was now rock hard and he had to be aware of it, but he still said nothing.
He started on my calves, digging hard into the muscles there, then moved on down to my feet. Luckily, while I struggled to suppress the feeling that my feet were being tickled, my erection went down. Not soon enough either.
“Okay,” Alan said, his tone unchanged. “Time to roll over so we can do your front.”