This weekend I finished the editing and ebook formatting for "Unwrapping Hank", my 2014 Christmas novella. It is going to be released Nov 14, 2014. It's already locked and loaded at Amazon, ready to go! You can pre-order it here:
Eli
New page added for "bones" (gothika #2)
Check out the new page for the "bones" anthology, coming out Oct 27th! Spooky/erotic stories from myself, Kim Fielding, Jamie Fessenden, and BG Thomas. You can read an excerpt from my novella "The Bird" on the new page here.
Out
Jane Jensen aka Eli Easton
Since I started publishing m/m romance in April 2013, my "Eli Easton" has been a name without a face and without a background. At times I wanted to be able to talk about the other parts of my life on my blog or twitter or with my goodreads friends. But I kept Eli separate from my 'real life' identity, as many m/m romance authors do.
In my case, it wasn't about my family, employer, or community disapproving. It was simply that I had another professional persona with its own audience and projects in the works. I didn't want assumptions made about my other work, or for it to be colored by m/m romance glasses, or, indeed, for that brand to get garbled or dissed for reasons not associated with the work itself.
But recently I decided to just be open about it all so I could talk about anything anywhere.
Past
In real life, I have been a long-time computer game designer writing under the name of Jane Jensen. I got my big break in game design in 1989 when I was hired by Sierra Online, a popular maker of adventure games like King's Quest and Leisure Suit Larry. With Sierra I got the chance to create my own game series, a paranormal mystery series called Gabriel Knight. There were 3 GK games, 2 novelizations, and a host of other work done under Jane Jensen, including two original novels.
Millennium Rising aka Judgement Day came out in 1999 from Del Rey and Dante's Equation from Del Rey in 2003. My other games include Dying for Daylight (done with Charlaine Harris), three Agatha Christie hidden object games, three Women's Murder Club games (with James Patterson), Gray Matter (my own original story) and, recently, Moebius: Empire Rising.
I've had many wonderful professional experiences working in games, including the joy of casting voice-over actors and listening to them read my dialogue, working on a live film production (for GK2), travelling to research story lines, meeting fans, and working with great artists, engineers, and producers. It was also the ideal place to hone my writing skills, particularly dialogue since there are acres of that in my games.
Present
Why do I write m/m romance? Because I love reading it. I began reading the m/m genre during a particularly stressful period in 2012, and it was my magic bullet in terms of relaxation and escape. I love writing books, but I'd given up on it after Dante's Equation in 2003--a hugely ambitious book that took three years to write and was a disappointment to me critically and sales wise.
While I've enjoyed reading m/f romance since I was a teen, I never was very good at writing it. I'm drawn to the idea of how two people meet and decide to spend their lives together--the give and take of personalities and relationship dynamics. But I find it challenging to write a typical man/woman relationship. I think it's because I've always rather sucked at writing very feminine characters. My own personality has many traits that would be considered masculine, and I've never been one for pink and lace. I think we are all a balance of masculine and feminine in our deepest selves in ways that go beyond gender and sexual identity. It's possible to be a woman with masculine personality traits who loves men (that is, not a lesbian), just as you can be a man with 'feminine' qualities who is nonetheless straight. We need a name for those categories, please!
I dipped my toe back into the water in 2011 writing a few stories for submission to m/m anthologies. By now, I've published 10+ stories in m/m including the novel The Mating of Michael, which was released in Jun 2014. I've gotten a lot of pleasure from writing in this genre, and encouragement from some very lovely people who enjoy reading it.
One thing is clear: being Eli Easton has given me back my pure fiction writing--my confidence in it and my productivity. And I'm grateful for that.
I also want to say that I have no embarrassment about what I write. I am a full supporter of gay rights, including the right to marry. So to me, romance is romance, no matter what the gender is of the protagonists. And as a life-long reader of romance, I know the pleasure it brings people. Unlike horror and mystery (both of which I've written), at the core romance is about passion and love, not fear. Plus, there's always a happy ending. And sometimes, we just fucking need a happy ending.
Future
I plan to continue to write m/m romance as Eli Easton. I will also likely continue to write for games. There are also some "Jane Jensen" books in the pipeline. I recently sold an Amish-themed murder mystery called "Kingdom Come" to Berkely and it will be released on the "Prime Crime" line under Jane Jensen. Now that I'm 'out' I'll be freer to talk about any and all projects as news pops up.
If you like games at all, you might want to check out one of my recent titles. Both of these have a free 1 chapter demo.
Gabriel Knight: Sins of the Fathers 20th Anniversary remake -- an all new HD remake of my first big game. This is the first game in a paranormal mystery series with some similarities to Supernatural or X-Files. Also on Steam and GOG.
Moebius: Empire Rising -- A Dan Brown-ish conspiracy thriller involving a new theory of space and time. Includes a slashy bromance that will develop over the series.
That's it for this confession. I will be at Romantic Times convention next year in Dallas in May and also the Rainbow Con in Tampa in July. Hope to meet some more of you there!
Eli
Cover and excerpt: "Unwrapping Hank" (due Nov 14)
"Unwrapping Hank", my 2014 Christmas story, is due to release Nov 14, 2014. The cover by done by the talented Reese Dante, who did my Mistletoe cover last year. This isn't a sequel, but it does have a similar vibe.
Blurb:
Sloane loves a good mystery. He grew up as the son of two psychiatrists, so he finds most people tediously easy to figure out. He finds his way to Pennsylvania State University, longing for a rural experience, and ends up being lured into joining a frat by Micah Springfield, the hippest guy on campus.
Nothing in Sloane’s classes is as intriguing as Hank Springfield, Micah’s brother and fellow frat house member. Hank looks like a tough guy—big muscles, tatts, and a beard—but his eyes are soft and sweet. He acts dumb, but he’s a philosophy major. He’s presumably straight, but then why does Sloane feel such crazy chemistry whenever Hank is around? And why does Hank hate Sloane so much?
When Sloane ends up stuck on campus over Christmas, Micah invites him to spend the holidays at their family farm in Amish country. It’s a chance to experience a true Americana Christmas--and further investigate the mystery that is Hank Springfield. Can Sloane unlock the secrets of this family and unwrap the heart hidden inside the beefcake?
Here's the first excerpt! (this is pre-editor)
1
“Sloane, why don’t you get us some more sangria? In the kitchen. On the kitchen table. That’s the good stuff.” Micah Springfield winked at me.
“You know, Hank is—” Brian started.
Micah put an arm around Brian’s neck in a casual stranglehold, clapped a hand over his mouth, and patted it lightly, as if he was joking around. “Sloane?” Micah held out his glass to me.
“Uh… sure.” I took his glass, wondering if this was a pledge thing. If I, as a new member of Delta Sigma Phi, and a lowly freshman, was going to be a community gopher for the foreseeable future.
But so far, Micah and the Delts had been amazingly benevolent. When I and four other freshman rushed, there were no illegal pranks, panty-on-head wearing, belly-crawling through urine, or naked spanking. Which was good, because I would have laughed, ho ho ho, at least at everything except possibly the naked spanking. Then I’d have made a beeline for the exit.
I never thought I’d be the type to rush a frat. In fact, if my parents knew about it, they’d be lecturing me over the phone on peer pressure, the dangers of co-dependency in closed social structures, and the effects of one’s social group on GPA in a university setting. They were both psychologists, and I, I was their lifelong patient. Nothing in my life went undeconstructed. But when Micah, a TA in one of my classes, latched onto me and gave me the hard sell, I didn’t resist.
Micah Springfield is president of the Delts. He’s that guy who is hipper than you will ever be, even if you took master lessons from Bob Dylan and Will Smith. He’s genuinely smart but a thousand leagues from being a nerd. He’s good-looking but lazy with it, you know? He has wild curly brown hair that’s down to his shoulders, with these little braids in it, dread-style, and a remarkably unskeevy soul patch. He wears slouchy low-riding jeans, crazy-patterned shirts, and leather sandals most of the time, even in November. He’s a senior in environmental science, of course, because that’s what terminally hip people major in. And he has these insightful brown eyes, eyes that looked right into yours and say I’m touching your soul, brother.
Micah was warm. In other words, the opposite of my parents.
Besides, the Delts lived in a cool old mansion, which was so much better than sharing a dumpy dorm room with my perpetually anxious, tums-chewing, pre-med roommate. I was over all the hair-pulling. He pulled his own hair, not mine, but still. I was definitely ready to move into a room in the Delts house that first weekend in November.
And if I’d had some stirrings of attraction to Micah at first, it honestly had nothing to do with my decision. I figured out in the first ten minutes that he was straight, and that was the end of that. Tiny nubbin of interest nipped in the bud, and we were both the better for it.
“Kitchen,” I repeated, looking pointedly at the punch bowl not two feet away.
“Trust me,” Micah insisted, winking at me again.
I sighed and went off to find the frat house kitchen.
* * *
I pushed through a swinging door and saw a refrigerator. I’d found the kitchen. My sense of accomplishment lasted for about two seconds. Then I noticed the guy standing at the sink doing dishes.
The Delts I’d met so far were upscale-looking guys. Even with Micah’s slouchy hippiness, there was a sense of quality about him that shone. And the other frat members, like Brian, tended to polo shirts and button-downs and managed to tread that narrow line between respectable students and nerds. They were more prone to hacky-sack and ultimate frisbee on the front lawn than video games or football and steroids. It was a zone I felt comfortable in, if not one where I precisely belonged.
But this creature at the sink was something else.
He was a big guy, had to be over six feet and he was broad. He wore old, holey jeans that showcased a perfect, firmly rounded ass. On top he wore a white wife-beater tank top and nothing else, which left acres of huge muscles and tattoos exposed. He had a thick buzz cut and a full beard. One bare foot was propped up on the opposing calf as he washed glasses in hot, soapy water.
I clenched the stems of the glasses in my hands so hard it was a miracle they didn’t break. Black began to descend on my vision and it took me a moment to identify the problem—I wasn’t breathing. Silly me. I gasped in a mouthful of oxygen and the sound caused sink guy to turn his head to look at me.
“Hey.” Sink guy’s grunt was low and rough like a dog or a bear. He turned around and went back to washing dishes.
I love a good mystery. In fact, I find it boring how unmysterious life is most of the time. Study the material, get correct answers on tests, get a good grade, eventually get lots of good grades to get a good job. Point A to B to C. And people? Growing up the son of two psychologists, and furthermore being a huge fan of murder mysteries, I had a tendency to analyze people and put them in boxes fairly quickly. For example, the pinch of my mother’s mouth can indicate long-suffering, irritated, or secretly pleased, depending on its exact tension. There’s a look a guy gets in his eye when he’s attracted to you and a different look when he finds out you’re gay and he’s disgusted by that. Most people are open books.
But standing in that kitchen my head was flooded with a dozen questions.
Who was this guy?
What was he doing in the Delts’s kitchen washing dishes? He didn’t look like a Delt, but he didn’t look like anyone a sane person would hire for catering or clean-up either.
He seemed young, about my age, yet I knew he wasn’t a freshman rushee, because I’d met all of them and we were currently being schmoozed out front in our ‘welcome to the frat’ party.
Why was he barefoot?
If he was a Delt, why was he hiding in the kitchen doing dishes instead of socializing with everyone else?
And why oh why did I have an overwhelming urge to run my hands over the plump muscles on those arms, shoulders, and back, when I’d never before in my life been attracted to muscle guys or tattoos? The guys I’d dated had been smart and fairly sophisticated. A guy like this should not move me. But he did, like Mt Vesuvius.
Oh God, was I going to hell? Would I end up living in Texas?
The guy looked over his shoulder at me again. His eyes were dark blue, with what looked like flecks of gold, and he had long, long black lashes. They were soft eyes.
How did a guy who looked like an ex-con have eyes that were that sweet?
“Need something?” he asked me with a slight frown.
Right. Because standing frozen by the kitchen door holding two glasses in a death grip was not weird at all.
I cleared my throat. “Refill.” I spotted the pitcher of sangria on the table and manage to fill up the two glasses. The guy had gone back to ignoring me, gently clinking glasses in the water and being ridiculously noir with the steam from the sink wafting around him like a figure in an old Humphrey Bogart film.
Some snooping was definitely in order. I left Micah’s glass on the table and wandered over to the sink with my sangria.
“Are you a Delt?” I asked, all casual.
He took his hands out of the suds and braced them on the edge of the sink. They were thick hands, flush with veins.
He looked me over critically, and I tried not to betray the fact that I found him incredibly attractive. Playing it cool, I took a sip of my drink.
“Yeah,” he said at last. “I’m Hank. Who are you?”
Oh, God. Oh, no. “Sloane. Greg Sloane.”
“Oh.” His face closed off in a heartbeat. He went back to washing dishes. “Yeah, Micah mentioned you.”
As it happened, I’d heard of Hank too. Hank—the one guy at the fraternity who’d voted against my membership, a fact I shouldn’t know but did because Brian had let it spill. He’d also told me to “never mind Hank. Just stay far away from the guy and he won’t bother you.” The impression I’d been left with is that bothering me—maybe with his fists—was entirely possible should I accidentally annoy this paragon.
Hank, the one Delt I’d never met but had a vague notion was homophobic and thus hated me on principle.
That’s when I noticed the cross tattooed on his impressive left bicep. Without another word, I picked up Micah’s drink and went back out into the living room. My heart was beating fast and something like disappointment burning in my stomach.
“Hey,” Micah said. He took his glass and threw his other arm around me. “Come on, I want you to meet Sam Wiser. He’s a junior and in the vet sciences program too.”
“Sure, uh… There was a guy in the kitchen… Hank.”
Micah stopped and looked at me, smiling shyly. “Yeah? What’d you think?”
What’d I think?
“He seemed really… domesticated. You know, for a white supremacist.”
I was being perhaps a wee bit judgmental, but Micah laughed, a big booming laugh that made everyone turn to see what was so funny.
“I guess you know the guy,” I commented, even more perplexed by Micah’s reaction.
“Oh, I know him.” Micah pulled me in by the neck to whisper in my ear. “Hank is my baby brother.”
EE
Review of the audio book version of "Blame it on the Mistletoe"
Thanks to The Blogger Girls for posting the first review of the audiobook version of "Blame it on the Mistletoe" with the fantastic narrator, Jason Frazier. Check it out! http://thebloggergirls.com/2014/10/05/audio-review-blame-in-on-the-mistletoe-by-eli-easton/
"Blame It On The Mistletoe" now out on audio!
Dreamspinner just released an audio book version of "Blame it on the Mistletoe". The narrator, Jason Frazier, is fantastic. So much fun. Here's a link on audible with a sample.
Guest Post: Jamie Fessenden's "Murder on the Mountain" blog tour!
Day Nine of the Murder on the Mountain blog tour!
Although Murder on the Mountain is what’s generally referred to as a “cozy”—a murder mystery solved by an amateur sleuth, fairly light on police procedure—I did do a lot of research on how murder cases are handled in my home state of New Hampshire. I’m incredibly grateful to my friend, Austin, who took advantage of an opportunity to visit the summit of Mount Washington in February and talk to the rangers stationed there.
If somebody dies on the summit, I discovered, this falls under the jurisdiction of the State Park Rangers. The park rangers are fully qualified to investigate crimes committed within their jurisdiction, including homicide, unless they choose to bring in the State Police. Since I hadn’t planned on doing a series of State Park murder mysteries (though that’s not a bad idea, really), I had the rangers call Concord in my novel.
I first thought I’d have Kyle be a member of a local police force near the base of the mountain—perhaps out of Berlin—but it turns out we don’t do things that way in NH. All homicide investigations are handled through the Major Crime Unit in Concord (http://www.nh.gov/safety/divisions/nhsp/isb/majorcrime/ ). So Kyle and his partner, Wesley, have to drive an hour and a half north from Concord to Bretton Wood, where the Cog Railway takes them to the summit. Autopsies are also handled in Concord, at the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner (http://doj.nh.gov/medical-examiner/ ), so Stuart Warren’s body is taken down on the Cog and transferred back to Concord.
Since I wanted Jesse to have access to the crime scene and Kyle from the beginning, I fell back on the Ride-Along. This is where a citizen fills out a form and gets approval to ride along in a police cruiser for a day or more. Under normal circumstances, that probably doesn’t include getting close to a crime scene, and the form takes several days to get approved. I fully admit I fudged that in order to keep Jesse from being shut out of the investigation from the beginning.
One thing I stand behind, however, despite several comments from readers about it, is Jesse signing himself into the Mount Washington hotel so he can talk to the murder suspects. I discussed this with some retired police officers in a forum and, even though it seems as though it would be illegal… it isn’t. There is no law that prevents a citizen from talking to a murder suspect. If there were, reporters wouldn’t be able to interview them, and that happens all the time. The police can only restrict access to person after an arrest has been made. Kyle could have thrown a fit, of course. He could have threatened to dump Jesse and never see him again. But he couldn’t force Jesse out of that hotel.
For the next four weeks, Murder on the Mountain will be touring the blogs of several MM Romance authors, providing . If you leave an email address in the comments or email me at jamesfessenden@hotmail.com, you'll be entered into a drawing for either a free copy of Murder on the Mountain or a $40 gift certificate to Dreamspinner Press!
Check out the other stops on the tour at: http://jamiefessenden.com/2014/08/22/murder-on-the-mountain-blog-tour/
When Jesse Morales, a recent college grad who aspires to be a mystery writer, volunteers to work on the summit of Mt. Washington for a week, he expects to work hard. What he doesn’t expect is to find a corpse in the fog, lying among the rocks, his head crushed. The dead man turns out to be a young tourist named Stuart Warren, who strayed from his friends while visiting the mountain.
Kyle Dubois, a widowed state police detective, is called to the scene in the middle of the night, along with his partner, Wesley Roberts. Kyle and Jesse are instantly drawn to one another, except Jesse’s fascination with murder mysteries makes it difficult for Kyle to take the young man seriously. But Jesse finds a way to make himself invaluable to the detective by checking into the hotel where the victim's friends and family are staying and infiltrating their circle. Soon, he is learning things that could very well solve the case—or get him killed.
BUY LINK: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5335
"Bones" is due Oct 27th -- Cover reveal!
Are you in the mood for Halloween this year? I have a new release coming October 27th. It's called "bones", and it's the second gothika anthology. (The first was "stitch").
Last time, in "stitch", four of us m/m romance authors wrote a story about a Frankenstein-like creature. That book included a novella by myself, Kim Fielding, Sue Brown, and Jamie Fessenden.
In "bones", the novellas are all around the theme of Voodoo. The anthology includes a novella from myself, Kim Fielding, Jamie Fessenden, and BG Thomas.
Here's the blurb for the anthology:
Vodou. Obeah. Santeria. These religions seem mysterious and dark to the uninitiated, but the truth is often very different. Still, while they hold the potential for great power, they can be dangerous to those who don’t take appropriate precautions. Interfering with the spirits is best left to those who know what they’re doing, for when the proper respect isn’t shown, trouble can follow. In these four novellas, steamy nights of possession and exotic ritual will trigger forbidden passion and love. You cannot hide your desires from the loa, or from the maddening spell of the drums. Four acclaimed m/m authors imagine homoerotic love under the spell of Voodoo.
And for my novella, "The Bird":
Colin Hastings is sent to Jamaica in 1870 to save his father’s sugar cane plantation. If he succeeds, he can marry his fiancée back in London and take his place in proper English society. But Colin finds more than he bargained for on the island. His curiosity about Obeah, the native folk magic, leads him to agree to a dangerous ritual where he is offered his heart’s most secret desire—one he’s kept deeply buried all his life. What happens when a proper English gentleman has his true sensual nature revealed and freed by the Obeah spirits?
Jamie's novella "The Book of St Cyprian":
"When Alejandro Valera finds a book of black magic in New Orleans, he ships it to his friend Matthew in New Hampshire so he can read it when he gets home. Unfortunately, Matthew’s dog, Spartacus, gets to the package first, and Alejandro returns to find Matthew locked out of his apartment by the suddenly vicious pit bull. The boys call on all the magic they know to free Spartacus from the evil spirit, but they might need to accept that they’re in over their heads."
I don't have the blurbs for Kim and BG's stories, but I can tell you can I really loved reading them!
More about the anthology later....
Eli
September news from Eli Easton
Here's a news update on what's going on with my Eli Easton books. 1. There will be a French edition of "Blame it on the Mistletoe" (paperback and ebook). Release date is TBD, but it should be out before Christmas.
2. There is also an audiobook version of "Blame it on the Mistletoe" underway via Dreamspinner. (for this Christmas)
3. I'm wrapping up my 2014 Christmas story "Unwrapping Hank", which is 41K words. It's been through beta and will soon go off to the final editor. Reese Dante is working on the cover. I'll put it on goodreads as soon as I have a cover. The story will be published Nov 14, 2014.
4. In October, Dreamspinner will release a new "gothika" called "bones" (it's the sequel to "stitch"). This volume includes novellas by myself, Kim Fielding, Jamie Fessenden, and BG Thomas and has a voodoo m/m romance theme. Cover coming soon!
5. I finished a longer rewrite of "The Lion and the Crow". It will be published by Dreamspinner in January/Feb 2015.
6. Currently working on: A werewolf story for the 3rd volume of gothika. After that I plan to start a new novel in a new series.
7. Last day to get 25% off all Dreamspinner titles! If you haven't read The Mating of Michael yet, grab it!
Hope you all are enjoying the onset of Fall.
Eli
"Unwrapping Hank" -- my Christmas story for 2014
My 2014 Christmas story "Unwrapping Hank" is now in beta. It's always a sense of relief to finish a story, especially one that's important to you. "Blame it on the Mistletoe" did well last year, so I really wanted to do something good for Christmas this year. The jury is out until it releases, but I hope you'll like it! Love would be okay too. What's it about?
Like Mistletoe, "Unwrapping Hank" is set on a contemporary college campus, this time PSU--Pennsylvania State University.
Greg Sloane, aka "Sloane" is a freshman who has just rushed a frat, the Delts, lured by the super hip and laid back Micah Springfield, the frat's president. The one guy in the frat who voted against Sloane's membership was Hank, who turns out to be Micah's younger brother, and also turns out to be a majorly muscled, tattoo'd, and butch guy who sparks Sloane like kindling the first time he lays eyes on him in the frat house kitchen.
Here's my idea of Sloane (photo Googled off the web, I do not own):
Sloane is fairly sophisticated for PSU, having lived in major cities around the world with his two psychologist parents. He's also something of a smart ass and he LOVES a good mystery. Sloane figures people out easily--until he meets HANK. Hank is a conundrum. He's looks like a bad ass but he has the softest eyes. He acts like he's dumb but he's majoring in philosophy. He appears to be straight as an arrow, but then why does Sloane feel chemistry whenever they're in the same room?
Hank Springfield (stock image-- imagine more beard and tatts)
Hank is a loner whose gruff exterior puts off a lot of people. He's into body building and he's into his studies. The one thing he is most DEFINITELY not into is Sloane, aka "Frenchie", the stuck-up, sophisticated, gay guy absolutely no one else in the frat has a problem with. Hank doesn't want anything to do with Sloane. So why does fate (and his interfering brother Micah) keep shoving them together?
First, he has to plan the frat's Christmas party with Sloane, a partnership that will either tear the house down or produce the best party ever, and then Micah invites Sloane home with them for Christmas. What the fuck?
There are family wounds that have made Hank and Micah what they are. If Sloane can unwrap this mystery, maybe he can unwrap the man of his dreams too.
This is an Enemies-to-lovers story, sort of GFY and sort of not, with some humor and some hotness, particularly of a certain kind that readers have been asking me for. Done.
There may also be a quaint Pennsylvania Dutch country Christmas and a bulldog named Grinch. And pies. Lots of pies.
Oh, and thanks to Jamie Fessenden for coming up with the title for this story!
Length: 40K
Due out: Nov 14, 2014
Reese Dante is working on the cover now, and I'll share it when I have it!
Eli
"The Mating of Michael" -- interview & giveaway on Sinfully Sexy!
Check out a new feature about "The Mating of Michael" on Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews. It includes a review by Macky, an interview with me about the book, and a giveaway. (And a cool new graphic, which I stole below) http://sinfullysexybooks.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/the-mating-of-michael-sex-in-seattle-3.html#more
Thank you for having me on the blog!
Eli
"The Mating of Michael" Blog Tour summary post
I was lucky enough to find some great sites to host me for the release of "The Mating of Michael". Here's a summary of those posts:
The Desktop for “The Mating of Michael” (my inspirational images posted on my site)
Help Me To Feel: Sex Surrogacy and “The Mating of Michael” (guest post on Boys In Our Books)
Clipped Wings: Writing a Romantic Hero with Polio (guest post on Joyfully Jay)
Interview with me about “The Mating of Michael” on Smoocher’s Voice
Eli’s Blog Post at RJ Scott’s site about writing m/m romance serials
Still to come: Interview by Macky at Sinfully Sexy on Jul 12!
Eli
Michael Blog Tour: Writing a Romantic Hero with Polio -- on Joyfully Jay
Check out my guest post on Joyfully Jay about writing an MC with polio.
http://joyfullyjay.com/2014/07/giveaway-guest-post-the-mating-of-michael-by-eli-easton.html
Thanks to Joyfully Jay for hosting me!
Eli
Book Rec: "Think of England" by KJ Charles
How do I love this book? Let me count the ways!
I've only read one KJ Charles before, A Charm of Magpies, which I really liked, but I didn't feel compelled to read the rest in that series. Now that I've read Think of England, I am firmly a fan!
First, I've always loved m/f regency romances, but it's hard to find a good m/m romance in set in anything but contemporary England for obvious reasons. This book handles that brilliantly. It is absolutely true to that era and uses the difficulties as part of the obstacles/plotline. The attitudes and lingo all felt very accurate. It still has that sort of 'cozy' Agatha Christie feel I love while also being a hot m/m romance. Bravo! That's a tough nut to crack (no pun intended).
Second, I adored the characters. Daniel is gorgeous with his wicked cruel tongue and sharp wit. I loved how he got them out of a jam several times just using his brain (even against weapons). I loved the foppish air he affected or dropped just as easily. And his 'Viking', Archie, is as stolid and steady and English as they come. I loved the slight GFY twist to this and loved Archie's bullheaded plodding forward regardless.
Third, the writing is just damn good. There's not an excess of flowery meandering but every line is well-written. The dialogue especially was just awesome.
Fourth, I also liked the secondary characters, most specifically the two ladies who helped save the day. Nice to see non-fainting femmes.
Fifth, I'm not much of a fan of continuing series with established couples, but KJ did a brilliant job of giving me some hot scenes with Daniel and Archie while holding enough of their relationship back that I definitely want to read the next book.
If you haven't tried KJ you definitely should. She's one of the best m/m writers out there IMHO.
"Superhero" and "Heaven Can't Wait" -- June Prism Recommended Reads
Check out some great books on this "Recommended Reads" post for June from Prism Book Alliance: http://www.prismbookalliance.com/2014/07/june-prism-recommended-reads-congratulations-authors-with-giveaway/
There are a number of titles here I need to read, and I'm thrilled they have "Superhero" and "Heaven Can't Wait" on the list. Thank you!
Eli
Guest Post & Giveaway -- hosted by RJ Scott's blog!
RJ Scott had me on her blog for a guest post about writing m/m romance series. Comment on the post for a chance to win all THREE of my Sex in Seattle books. http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/author-post-eli-easton-hurdles-and.html?zx=de6a36fa5a9e5e81
Thanks, RJ, for hosting me!
Eli
Interview with Eli about "The Mating of Michael" on Smoocher's Voice
Jodi at Smoocher's Voice did a lovely interview with me about "The Mating of Michael". Read it here!
Eli
Sex Surrogacy and "The Mating of Michael" (guest post at BIOB)
Thanks to Boys In Our Books for hosting my first blog tour stop for "The Mating of Michael' and my guest post about sex surrogacy! You can read it here: http://boysinourbooks.com/2014/06/30/blog-tour-guest-post-the-mating-of-michael-by-eli-easton/
ELi
Desktop: The Mating of Michael
"The Mating of Michael" launches today, Jun 30th, 2014! That makes me exceedingly happy. "Michael" is the first full-length novel I've written in m/m romance (it has 73K words). So if you've been looking for a 'longer' Eli Easton story, this is it. It's the 3rd in my "Sex in Seattle" series but features a brand new couple and can be read as a stand-alone.
Link to buy "The Mating of Michael" at the Dreamspinner site.
It's my tradition to do a 'desktop' post showing images I used for info and inspiration while writing a book, so here are my images for "The Mating of Michael".
MICHAEL LAMONT:
Of course, first and foremost is Michael himself. He's a gay sex surrogate who works with the Expanded Horizons sex clinic in Seattle. Michael is fairly small and beautiful. He has a flirtatious nature and a gentle soul. The inspiration for his 'exterior shell' came from Isaiah Garnica, an LA based model. Here are a few of my favorite shots:
JAMES GALLWAY (aka J.C. Guise)
Michael's love interest is a reclusive science fiction writer who is in a wheelchair thanks to a childhood bout of polio. I describe him as having a large and rangy, almost 'Lincoln-esque' face and body. Below is a reference shot I liked, though my James's legs are withered by the polio.
EXPANDED HORIZONS SEX CLINIC (Where Michael works part-time)
It's located on Capitol Hill in Seattle (my old stomping ground). It's fictitious, but I picture the building like this:
ELLIOT BAY BOOK STORE (Capitol Hill, Seattle)
Michael meets James here when he's doing a book signing
LEM (one of Michael's patients)
Lem is a sweet man, an older accountant with terrible shyness issues. Here's my photo reference for Lem:
MARNIE:
Marnie is a regular (non surrogacy) patient of Michael's in his work for an in-home nursing company. She's a total hoot! I searched for the most outrageous old lady shots I could find -- imagine this times 10!
MOUNT RAINIER PICNIC
Michael decides to act as 'muse' to James, and he takes him to several beauty spots near Seattle. They have a picnic here:
STEAMBOAT ROCK AND COULEE DAM (Central Washington)
Two more places Michael takes James
MEDGAR EVERS POOL
James and Michael have their second meeting at this pool in Seattle, which has a lift for disabled swimmers
That's it for this story. I'm looking forward to seeing your reviews and comments on "The Mating of Michael"!
Eli
Countdown to Michael -- 15 days
"The Mating of Michael" releases on Jun 30. Only 15 more days! Here's another excerpt to whet your appetite! You can now pre-order it on the Dreamspinner site here.
For those of you who have been asking me for longer stories, Michael is my first full length m/m romance novel at 73K words. Dreamspinner is publishing a paperback also!
Excerpt:
~1~
Seattle, February, 2014
“Gin! Dude, you’re history!”
Tommy laid down a set of fours and a run in hearts and laughed in triumph. The words and the laugh sounded garbled, thanks to the damage to his throat and palate, but Michael understood him just fine.
“Damn, man! You are wicked lucky today.” Michael Lamont shook his head, trying to look disappointed. But he didn’t really mind. Making Tommy laugh was more than worth losing a few card games.
“Well, Monday is my lucky day,” Tommy said with a wink. He pushed his chair away from the table.
“Are you flirting with me?”
“Yup.”
“I see how you are. First, you trounce me, then you try to butter me up. Do you wanna play again?”
Michael asked because he always asked. It was part of their routine. Three rounds of gin, which Tommy won more often than not. After cards came the massage. But Michael asked anyway, even when, like now, Tommy had pushed back from the table and already had the start of an erection in his shorts. The look in his eyes said he’d forgotten all about gin rummy.
“No more cards,” Tommy said quietly.
“Okay, champ.”
Michael stacked the cards neatly while Tommy went over to the bed. A large photo of the Seattle Mariners, inscribed with “To Tommy, best wishes,” and signed by all the players, was framed and hung over Tommy’s bed. He’d gotten that, Tommy had once told Michael, when he was in the hospital after the fire, and they didn’t know if he would live. It was one of Tommy’s most prized possessions.
Tommy dropped his shorts, leaving on his oversized T-shirt and briefs and sat on the edge of the mattress. He watched while Michael put his gym bag on the table and unzipped it. Michael carried everything he needed in there—a large bottle of Eucerin lotion, massage oil, wipes, condoms, a few styles of vibrators, and a few simple toys. He rarely used the toys, but he carried them all the same. He removed his shirt and folded it neatly on the bag before picking up the bottle of Eucerin.
He stood at the side of the bed while Tommy looked at him. Tommy liked to start by gazing at Michael’s chest for a while, and then touching it lightly with his damaged fingers, getting himself aroused. When he was ready, he laid down on his stomach. As always, there were no blankets on the bed, only sheets, so clean they smelled of fabric softener. A few small towels were stacked on the bedside table. Tommy himself had been freshly bathed, and even his ever-present baseball cap looked new. Michael appreciated the effort. He knew Tommy’s mother was very particular about his care. The house was on Lake Washington in the Madrona district and was easily worth several million. But he had a feeling it was Tommy himself who insisted on everything being perfect on Mondays. The thought caused a small ache in Michael’s chest as he gently tugged up the hem of Tommy’s T-shirt and rolled it tight near his shoulders.
Tommy didn’t like to have his shirt removed. Michael thought it gave him a sense of modesty to be able to pull it down over his scars quickly, even if he never did. Michael squeezed a line of lotion up his ravaged back.
Tommy’s life had been devastated one terrible night six years ago. He’d been sleeping over with a friend when the house caught fire. Michael had never been told what had caused the fire or the details of what’d happened, only that Tommy had been severely burned over seventy-percent of his body. Despite years of what must have been painful surgeries, including extensive cosmetic reconstruction, no one would ever look at Tommy and not see a burn victim. No one, that is, except Michael.
His fingertips soothed the lotion into the scar tissue, rubbing in circles. Tommy gave off a little moan.
Michael took his time. He massaged Tommy’s back, then pulled his briefs down and off and worked his arms and legs. The scar tissue had been well cared for. It required daily massage to avoid getting painfully tight. Tommy’s mother or his PT routinely massaged him, but Michael’s massage was different. He kept it sensual rather than functional. He placed both hands on the backs of Tommy’s thighs and massaged firmly up to the cheeks of his ass, repeating the move a dozen times before massaging Tommy’s buttocks. They were only mildly scarred, and Tommy liked to have them handled.
“Wanna turn over,” Tommy said, in a rough voice.
“Go ahead, champ.” Michael removed his hands and let Tommy turn.
Tommy’s penis was mercifully undamaged, thanks to the way he’d protected his core by curling up into a ball. He was fully erect and red. Michael squeezed some lotion on it and stroked for just a minute before moving on to Tommy’s chest and the front of his arms and legs. He knew what Tommy liked, and Tommy liked to take it slow. He liked to make it last, like a favorite dessert he only got once a week. His moans of pleasure were loud, but there was no one to hear. Only Tommy’s mother was in the house on Monday mornings, and she stayed out of the way, tucked away downstairs in the kitchen.
Michael drew his fingertips lightly over Tommy’s belly, causing him to shiver and groan, before finally taking him in hand. Michael was erect too. He always got that way when working with clients. If Tommy had wanted to see or feel Michael, he would have been happy to oblige. But that had never been what Tommy wanted. Nor was this about relieving Tommy of sperm. His hands were damaged, but he could hold his cards and a pen, type on the computer—he could get himself off. No, what Tommy needed from Michael was human touch, loving touch, to feel that he was not alone, that he could have sexual contact with a cute guy his own age, someone who would not look at him with horror. That was a privilege his twenty-one-year-old peers took for granted, gay or straight.
Michael touched Tommy lightly until he indicated with a panted “Go” that he was ready to come. Then Michael stroked him firmly until he climaxed hard.
Michael cleaned Tommy up and pulled his briefs back on. He always wanted to sleep afterward, no talking, no fuss. So Michael leaned over and kissed his cheek, smiling.
“See ya next week, champ. I’ll remember to bring that Stephen King book I’ve been promising. And I swear I’m going to beat you at rummy one of these days, at least two out of three.”
Tommy laughed, opening his eyes only long enough for one last fond look. “In your dreams. Excellent work today, Maestro. Laters.”
“Laters.”
Mrs. Chelsey was waiting for Michael in the kitchen as usual. But this week, when he popped in his head, she looked up at him anxiously.
“Would you like a cup of tea? I made us a pot.”
She’d set the table in the kitchen with two cups and a china pot, like some sort of fancy B&B. Michael hesitated.
“Unless you have to be somewhere?” Mrs. Chelsey's worried tone said she shouldn’t have presumed.
Michael glanced at his watch. “No, I’m good. I’d love to try that tea.” He smiled and joined her at the table.
Mrs. Chelsey was an attractive brunette in her late forties, her body slender and her face drawn with perpetual worry. Still, she was always very pleasant to Michael.
“How did he seem to you today?” she asked as she poured the tea. “There’s cream and sugar.”
“Black is good, thanks. I got the impression he was a little down when I first got here. But he creamed me at three rounds of gin, and that cheered him up considerably.”
Mrs. Chelsey seemed relieved. “He’s been depressed lately. His friends are all graduating from college, getting married, moving on with their own lives… I’m worried about him.” She eyed Michael’s face with a searching gaze as if somehow he could provide the understanding she needed. “He’s always better on Mondays, though. I can’t tell you how much your visits mean to him.”
Michael was glad Mrs. Chelsey and Tommy were happy with him, but it was never easy for him to accept compliments. “Just doing my job.”
“You don’t have to play cards with him, though, hang out, and treat him like a friend. That means a lot.”
“Tommy is a friend. He’s a client but… I’m happy to call him a friend.”
Mrs. Chelsey smiled sadly. “My friends would never understand about you. I don’t even… not even Tommy’s father knows that I hired a sex surrogate.”
Michael wanted to argue with her, to say something like “It’s not a big deal”, or “It’s not that unusual.” Because he truly felt that way. But he knew other people—most people—saw sex surrogacy as a very big deal.
Michael loved being a sex surrogate. It felt entirely natural to him. He’d graduated from nursing school at twenty-one and did an internship with a VA hospital in Seattle. A few of the patients there were young, just recovering from injury or PTSD. One in particular, a sweet boy named Wayne, had lost a leg and was severely depressed. Michael was fairly certain Wayne was gay, and he was so devastated by his injury. Sometimes, Wayne would look at Michael, then look away. There was pure need in that look, a need so deep it ran red with blood. Michael had a strong urge to hold Wayne, to comfort him, to, yes, give him relief in any way that he could. Instinctively, he sensed that Wayne needed physical contact, needed someone to make him feel like a man, to remind him that being alive meant the possibility of great pleasure, not just pain.
Of course, as a young nurse, such a thing would have been entirely inappropriate. Michael had never acted on it, but it started him thinking. He researched online for types of therapy that involved touch. That’s when he discovered sex surrogacy. He fell in love with the idea literally at first sight. He applied to the IPSA, the International Professional Surrogates Association, and took their 100-hour course via mail part-time while he worked. A year later, he was licensed.
He believed so strongly that love and intimacy were key components of healing and mental health. But he’d learned that very few people were capable of understanding what he did.
So instead of arguing with Mrs. Chelsey, he just said, “Well… you’re a very cool mom. Tommy is lucky.”
Mrs. Chelsey laughed. “A cool mom would give her son a little weed, not sex. I’ve done the weed too, on occasion.”
Michael looked at her in surprise. He’d never smelled it in Tommy’s room.
“A few years ago when there was more pain,” she explained. “We got it prescribed. Thank God for the Medical Cannabis law. But Tommy doesn’t want it much anymore. Says it makes him fuzzy. Anyway, I just… I feel he’s missing so much in life. Anything I can give him, I will give him.”
She said this last fiercely. Michael’s heart ached for her. He reached over and stroked her hand. “Hey, Tommy is lucky to have you, to have this beautiful home, and to be so well-cared for. You’re doing a great job.”
She clutched desperately at the hand Michael offered and, with the other, took a casual sip of tea as if she hadn’t a care in the world. It reminded Michael of that saying about one hand not knowing what the other was doing.
“I just wish our lives weren’t about me taking care of Tommy. I wish he was out there being a normal twenty-one-year-old, having fun, even getting into a little bit of trouble.”
Michael wasn’t sure what got into him, but he stage-whispered, “Well, he did just have sex upstairs.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
She barked out a laugh. “You don’t say.”
“I have it on good authority.” Michael tried to release her hand, but she clung on. He let her.
Mrs. Chelsey looked down into her cup, took a couple of deep breaths. “It’s my fault, you see. His father and I were newly divorced, and I… I got a little crazy. That night, Tommy didn’t want to go to Samuel’s house. He wanted to stay home, play his video games, and chat with his pal in Norway. But I insisted he go. I had a date.”
Michael swallowed down a painful wave of empathy and rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand.
“I’ll never forgive myself for that.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright.
Michael got up and went over to Tommy’s mother. He hugged her, leaning down and holding her tight. She took the comfort, placing her arms around his back and tilting her face against his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault. A million other times that same scenario would have gone fine. Tommy would have come home the next morning like always. You couldn’t have known.”
She nodded, but she didn’t say anything. She hugged him back for a long moment, the tension of grief thick in her body, until at last, she relaxed. Michael’s mother had worked as an intensive care nurse for a while, and she always said her job was as much about helping the relatives deal with what was happening as it was about the actual patient care. Michael’s job wasn’t often like that, but now he understood what his mother meant. That fire had devastated Tommy’s mom as much as it had Tommy.
Mrs. Chelsey pulled back. “Thank you.”
“Any time. You know, you have needs too, not just Tommy.”
He said it sincerely, but when Mrs. Chelsey quirked an oh really eyebrow, he laughed. “Oh. Um… I didn’t mean those kinds of needs.”
“Good. Because, no offense, Michael, but that would be really weird.”
“Right.” Michael laughed, embarrassed. “Well, on that graceful note, I should probably get going. Thanks for the tea.”
Mrs. Chelsey stood up to show him out. He headed for the kitchen doorway and his gym bag.
“Oh! Just remembered. I saw something in Sunday’s newspaper, and I clipped it for you.” She took a newspaper page off the refrigerator and brought it over. “Tommy said you like science fiction?”
“Love it.”
“Well, maybe you already know about this, but when I saw it, I thought of you.”
It was an ad for “Science Fiction week” at Elliott Bay Book Company. “Excellent,” Michael said politely. His eyes scanned down the list of events and his heart stopped. “Oh, my God. No way!”
“What is it?”
“J.C. Guise? Seriously?”
Mrs. Chelsey shrugged, obviously not getting it.
“I don’t believe it! J.C. Guise is doing a book signing at Elliott Bay on Friday night. He’s like… my favorite author in the world, and he never does book signings. He’s a legendary recluse. He doesn’t go to conventions, he doesn’t do Twitter or Facebook, he’s a ghost. He has a one-page website that lists his books, and that’s it. I can’t believe this!”
“That does sound exciting.” Mrs. Chelsey looked pleased that her small offering had been so well received.
“Exciting?” Michael laughed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Mrs. Chelsey, but right now? I freaking love you.”
******************
HEAVEN CAN'T WAIT:
In other news, my novella Heaven Can't Wait is now out with Dreamspinner. Check out some new reviews!
My “Desktop” blog post of inspirational images for “Heaven Can’t Wait”
5 stars Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews – “…tangible chemistry going on, a nice touch of slow burning sexual tension and a lovely, sweet romance building up throughout the book that all mixed together culminates into a very enjoyable and satisfying little supernatural love story.”
4.5 stars Boys in Our Books — “Heaven is a quick and easy read I recommend for, well, everybody. Pick it up ASAP, but be sure to put on your favoriteswingy, swishy dress for your Maria von Trapp solo dance.”
Review from Bloggergirls – “If you’re looking for something that’ll simultaneously touch you and make you smile, give this one a try because it definitely affected me! I loved it!”
Eli