SUMMARY: Noah Trevelyan has lost his moorings. Disowned over his sexuality as a teenager, he hasn’t been back to his home on the Outer Banks since his fisherman father kicked him out. But when he returns for the Old Man’s funeral, he discovers his father left him the house and boat in his will. Noah must choose whether to stay or go, but he won’t be alone. There’s Ian, working to overcome the emotional scars left by a domineering ex-boyfriend, and Ty, a cheerful housekeeper who’s struggling to take care of his Alzheimer’s-stricken aunt. There’s Joshua too, running from the destruction of his old life, and Gabriel, who was once beaten and left for dead, and doesn’t know how to survive on his own.
Will they find in each other the strength and courage to keep living—and learn, together, how to love again? A polyamorous relationship is the last thing any of them expected to find in the Outer Banks, but it might be what they need most, and it might even be their redemption—if they can keep their group from breaking apart under the pressure.
REVIEW: I’m a huge fan of ménage stories; those types of relationships always fascinated me. I’ve read many a ménage story by never have I read one featuring five men at once. I went in not really knowing what to expect. How was the dynamics going to play out? How does a relationship actually with that many people in it? I was expecting a big ole orgy type of deal and that would’ve been fine.
That is not what you get in this book. What you end up with is a story about five men, who love and cherish each other. You read about a relationship that has its ups and downs, good times and bad but these men weather the storms and come out stronger and close because of it. These men were in a relationship TOGETHER and even though it was so many of them, NONE of them were left out. Yes, each man had a different dynamic but you never at anytime get the sense that one man loves another more than the other. What you ended up with was a beautifully executed story that could’ve gone awry.
Yes, there was group sex but it was tastefully done; it wasn’t written as any type of orgy or anything of the sort. The author did a pretty good job with this and I must say that I was pleasantly surprised.
Writing a novel can be a complicated process and sometimes one will stumble over problems that seem insignificant at first until you trip over them every time you write a new chapter. In my case, it was places and settings. Although I do have an overactive imagination and am able to come up with various types of story twists, I’m really bad at imagining and describing landscapes or houses. And don’t even get me started on realistic measurements for distances. I was never meant to be a girl scout and my way of using a map is holding it folded in my hands while looking for somebody who can point me in the right direction. Preferably with instructions like ‘If you turn left after the big church with the goat shed in front, then…’. Something along the lines of ‘In 300 meters you turn right and after 2 kilometers you will…’ is guaranteed to get me lost. So how could somebody like me go about inventing an entire world and map it out?
Getting single places into my head map wasn’t that difficult. The Valley as one of the major locations was quite easily built although I had to revisit my description more than once. The rest of the continent where the story takes place wasn’t that easy since the places had to serve the story, not the other way round. I’m a ‘messy’ writer, I do single scenes when they pop into my head and then build the story arch around those scenes. Of course I do have a major arch in the back of my head, but where I set out and how I ultimately get there are two very different things indeed. So thinking about the places before I knew where the story would go was useless. I had to build my world as I went along.
As I already mentioned, the Valley was more or less easy. I live close to the mountains, so all I had to do was take a look outside, allow my imagination to run wild for a bit and then describe what I see. I also like the idea that the home I truly love is part of the books and in a good way.
The housing situation in the Valley posed more problems to me and I quickly realized that my initial idea of having some kind of village situation wouldn’t work. So I decided to have something akin to a center with the main building where Renaldo, Canubis and the Emeris live, the Great Hall, where all the important meetings are (I went a little Viking there) and a cluster with the stables and the smithy. The other houses are scattered loosely around to reflect the feral aspect of the Pack.
I wanted the interior design of the chambers to reflect directly on the characters who live in them and concerning the bathrooms I do admit to stealing ideas from Spas I have visited and mixing them together.
Renaldo’s rooms are exquisite but not overbearing. They enhance his physical beauty, give an insight as to how he perceives and treats beauty himself and they provide a perfect background for the explosive relationship Casto and Renaldo share.
Aegid’s and Kalad’s rooms are ‘louder’, they reflect the colorful life the two warriors have had so far. Especially Kalad’s character is very outgoing and open to the point of being intimidating and overwhelming which is exactly what the room itself does to Daran when he first sets foot in it. As the story goes on, other rooms are displayed as well and they usually serve the purpose of highlighting either a character or a certain part of the plot.
Elam, the gold-digger city I created after I had seen a documentary about rich companies exploiting nature’s resources with poison and chemicals, not giving a damn how their actions ruin entire countries, not to mention the poor people whose services they buy for a few cents a day. To me, Elam is a symbol for what we do to our own planet and it shows in the way I describe the city. After a first reading, I thought I had been too hard on a place that only exists in my head, but as I tweaked the story again and again, I made Elam look even worse. It is definitely meant as something to abhor the reader, to make them despise the place as much as I do.
Of course there are also cities I created for the sheer fun of it and they are, in some ways, the utopian images we were encouraged to come up with in school. As the story progresses, I find myself inventing new places and I hope you will enjoy them as much as I do.
About the author
Xenia Melzer is a mother of two who enjoys riding and running when she’s not writing stories. She doesn’t like beer but is easily tempted by a Virgin Mojito. Or chocolate. Truffles are especially cherished, even though she doesn’t discriminate. As a true chocoholic, she welcomes any kind of cocoa-based delight.
BLURB
All is fair in love and war. Renaldo has lived happily by that proverb his entire life. But he has finally met his match, and he’s about to discover how unfair love and war can be.
When demigod and warlord Lord Renaldo takes a beautiful stranger captive during an ambush, he is delighted to have found a distraction that will keep him entertained during the upcoming siege. Little does he know, Casto is keeping more than just one secret from him. Slowly, Renaldo gets sucked into a turbulent roller-coaster relationship with his mysterious prisoner, one that begins with hatred and soon spirals into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. And when it seems that things can get no worse, an old enemy stirs right in the heart of his home.
Determined to keep Casto by his side, Renaldo has to find a balance between the capricious young man and his own destiny as a ruler and god to his people.
Particularly when you discover there really is a hell. Aden thinks there’s no way he can avoid going down, but when an angel and demon can’t agree over his fate, Aden is given one more month to gain redemption. He doubts he can find a way to become a better man in so short a time. But it’s worth a try, right?
Living sucks
Particularly when you can’t shake free of an obsessive ex. Brody might be managing to hold down his job as a vet, but his personal life is a mess. If he doesn’t pull himself together soon, he’s going to be sliding downhill too fast to stop.
One wet night, on a dark country lane, two worlds collide and destinies change forever.
Kimi’s thoughts:
I love a great anti-hero, and this is exactly what I got. Aden has lived a rough life and it’s marked him. he’s not one of those inspirational sorts that rose above abuse and poverty to become a pillar of the community. He’s the guy that as a kid figured out how to take what he wanted, just make sure to not get caught because the punishment would make his life even more hell. As an adult, he had the common sense to restrict his vices to avoid arrest, but that didn’t mean he lived the straight and narrow. he still stole what he wanted, just making sure it wasn’t done in a way that could get him caught. He lived his life to excess, until one day, that caught up with him in a manner no one could have predicted. His last actions coupled with other incidents from childhood onwards lead him to hang in the balance as judgement finds him 50/50.
He’s given a second chance, one with a strict time limit and terms that can cut it short- with a trip straight to literal Hell.
Brody is a complicated character as well. He’s tormented with inner demons that lead to self-doubt and destructive tendencies. he has an ex who is absolutely obsessed with him, in the unhealthiest way possible. Unable to believe he deserves better, he gives in to temptations that physically and mentally hurt him, again, and again, and again. He’s moved house and changed jobs hoping to force a clean slate on himself and to make himself move forward. When Aden appears in front of his car, the two men each see something inside the other that they each can not see for themselves.
It’s a chain reaction, each one setting the other off and the series of events that follow build up to a climatic conclusion that left me nearly breathless (not exaggerating!). It wrapped up to a satisfying conclusion that wasn’t schmaltzy but which was definitely a HEA. Well, as HEA as two complicated men can be.
Hi, thanks for this opportunity to touch base with everyone ! My subject for this post is fighting through what’s stopping your writing flow and being the best you can be for yourself.
My name is Kathy Griffith, and I came to this writing thing later in life; about five years ago to be exact. I’s wanted to write all my life but I kept burying it putting it off until it was barely there. Life took precedence as it often does, and all through my adult years, my years of raising children, watching them leave the nest, and dealing with periods of depression and feeling sorry for myself.
Five years ago, for my 60th birthday, my daughter gave me a present–an intro to a writing correspondence course. I bit the proverbial bullet and took the test. I must say, it helped to get myself out there and I did learn a lot, and I started searching out what I really loved and wanted to write about. Forget that old nugget about writing what you know–if all writers did that, we wouldn’t have Hogwarts, Narnia, or Westeros. I picked vampires. I’ve loved the whole vampire trope since I was a kid, so I did my research, then I read some of the stuff out there. I didn’t really care for most of the vampire fiction, so I decided to write something that I would read–and I did. But, knowing how I was, I buried it and added more and more to the slush pile, not doing anything with it, but I justified it because hey, I was writing, wasn’t I?
Then I lost my job and couldn’t find another.
I got tired, really tired of telling myself the same excuses so I dusted off one of my favorite pieces and kicked it around a little, hoping to submit it somewhere. I got to within a few chapters of finishing it–and decided it was utter crap. I’m sure some of you can relate. I took out some of my favorite parts, gutted the rest, and started over, adding a few items and tailoring it for my newfound favorite genre–LGBT paranormal romance. Seven months later, I had my vampire, Alasdair Connery, and his story The Ancient. I submitted it to agents, publishers, and–nothing. Utterly petrified, I tried KDP and did it myself in February of 2015. A little more than a year later, I have the sequel, another urban vampire tale, and a few other little interesting tales, including two short stories without a breath of vampires or LGBT issues in them.
All I’m saying here is, it’s never too late to try something. You might surprise yourself, but then again–you might have known you had it in you all along. Stay fresh, friends.
I’d like to showcase my crown jewel, so to speak:
The Ancient–A story of Alasdair Connery, the father of all vampires, and his beginning in the prehistory of Scotland (cover image attached). Here’s a little description of him from a wedding he attended, trolling for new blood so to speak: he finds more than he bargained for.
“Mr. Alasdair Connery.”
He stood at the patio entrance, drawing attention to himself without seeming to realize it. He was young, surprisingly so, appearing to be in his late twenties. His dark glittering Asian eyes scanned the crowd, seeming to suffer the greetings of his fellow employees with gentle good humor. As a sign of respect to the newly wedded couple, he wore a short tuxedo jacket, shirt, and tie, but instead of trousers, he wore a soft cashmere kilt in a dark blue and black plaid tartan wrapped around his lower body, seeming to embrace every curve. Soft soled leather shoes covered his feet and dark hose his lower legs. He was short of stature, barely five feet four inches, but his arms were long and his shoulders powerful, as if he were used to manual labor. He carried himself like a man a full foot taller. His ebony hair was so black it had a purple cast to it, and he wore it swept straight back from his high forehead, wrapped up in a thick braid that reached down the entire length of his back to the curve of his buttocks and tied with a red silk cord. His face, dusted with the lightest of dark stubble, was a pale mocha, like café au lait heavy on the milk, and he wore his high sculptured cheekbones and slim, aristocratic nose like a badge of honor. His small smile showed sensuous, molded lips.
When I first started writing thirteen years ago, I knew nothing about it except that I love to read and made good grades in English. In fact, at one time many years ago, I thought about being an English teacher.
My first two books are very poorly written even though they tell good stories. It was my second book, First Impressions Don’t Count that led to Cousins: Going Home. A reader suggested a sequel. After thinking it over, I decided to focus on the four oldest Johnson grandkids.
At the end of First Impressions, it was stated that Lizzie was married so I had to get rid of her husband some way. I settled on creating a jealousy between her and Catherine and made Catherine a conniving bitch who seduced Lizzie’s husband.
Writing Lizzie, Mike, and Scott’s stories wasn’t that hard. It was Catherine I had trouble with. When I sent what I thought was the finished story to A.J. Marcus for a beta read, he started adding a lot of emotion and actions to it. He loved writing Catherine.
This is my first adventure into an f/f relationship, but I really liked writing about Lizzie and Sara. I hope readers can get the feeling of a family reunited from Cousins.
Excerpt
Catherine Johnson entered the ballroom of The Beverly Hilton Hotel. From the front, her floor-length black gown was demure. A diamond choker encircled the high neckline and a matching bracelet sparkled against one of the long sleeves. The only skin visible was her face and hands. The back, however, was a different story. The high neckline in the front became a band of about two inches and the choker was actually a rope of diamonds that hung down her bare back ending just above the crack of her ass. The skirt was slit to almost the hipline. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a sleek French twist and decorated with more diamonds.
Her mother walked toward her wearing a bright-red sequined gown.
“Good evening, Catherine,” she said. “You certainly know how to make an entrance.”
“As the saying goes, ‘If you’ve got it flaunt it.’” She took a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. “Who’s here who’s important?”
“Of course the candidate for the senate seat, but, he’s happily married.”
“Mother, I’m not here to find a husband. I don’t want to get married.” She drank her glass of champagne in one gulp. Her mother’s constant pushing her on one man or another was more than a little irritating, even though she knew she did it out of what passed for love with her mother.
“Why not? You’d make an excellent governor’s wife. Oh, Jerry Martin, Lizzie’s husband, is here. Apparently Lizzie’s sick. You know he’s headed up the political ladder. It’s a shame he married Lizzie and not you. After all, you dated him first, didn’t you?”
“Yes, when he was captain of the soccer team. He was such a nerd, so prim and proper. And, he was a horrible kisser.” Catherine smirked as an idea hit her. “Can you see Lizzie as a governor’s wife? I can’t even imagine her as a dog catcher’s wife.” She placed the empty glass on a tray.
Her mother coughed to cover a laugh. “Maybe you should see if you can cause a little discord there.”
They separated and Catherine strolled leisurely toward Jerry. She did her best to not appear too predatory. “Good evening cousin-in-law. Where’s Lizzie?”
“Catherine, you’re looking beautiful as always. I’m afraid Lizzie caught a twenty-four bug and isn’t feeling well.”
“Well, we’ll just have to hang together. After all, that’s what families do.” She grabbed another glass of champagne and handed one to him. When his fingers brushed hers, she knew she had at least a chance and started thinking about her next steps.
Giveaway!!!!
Leave a comment below. One lucky winner will be drawn at random. Prize is a signed copy of Cousins. Entries for this giveaway are limited to U.S. residents only. Must be 18 or over to enter.
Hello! Thank you for joining me at the Kimi-chan Experience so I can talk about my new book, ‘Five Times My Best Friend Kissed Me, and One Time I Kissed Him First’.
I couldn’t let this blog tour happen without talking about the deep, resonating pain of writing childhood. So let’s get to that!
I’ve been applying myself to the task of writing creatively for about half my life now. In the past five years that I’ve been publishing with Dreamspinner Press I’ve written a whole range of different stories, but I’ve never really ventured into the topic of childhood.
And with good reason. I really hate writing kids.
That’s not to say I don’t like real-life kids—I do. And when I can dip in and out of scenes with children that can be fun too, probably because I can put the child aside at any time and move on to grown up conversations again!
In this novel, I knew I would have to go to the point in time when Evan and Scott first meet and start the friendship that would last their whole lives. I know some people meet those lifelong friends in college, or even later in life, but for this story it was inevitable that I would revisit the summer of1994.
As in the rest of the novel, this section is told from Evan’s point-of-view, so I had to get into the head of a seven year old American boy, which for a thirty year old English woman isn’t that easy. I think I probably did more research for this one section of the book than I did for anything else! I wanted to know what shows the boys would be watching on TV, what games they’d be playing, what was the most popular Christmas gift the year before. Not all of that made it into the story, but all those little tidbits of information helped me find that all-important mindset.
There’s something undeniably special about the bonds of friendship that are formed in childhood. I think it has something to do with knowing that person has seen you change in fundamental ways, and they still like you afterwards. If you can survive puberty, High School, going to college and coming back again, and still love each other? That’s something to hold onto. And something I really wanted to make a central theme of ‘Five Times’.
Here’s a little excerpt of the boys as kids – I hope you enjoy it!
*
“Mom!” Evan yelled as he ran into the house. “Mom, Mom, Moooooomm!”
“Yes, darling,” she said, appearing from the kitchen with an apron around her waist, floury hands, and an exasperated expression.
Evan skidded to a stop and frowned. “What are you making?”
“You had a question for me?”
“Oh. Yeah. Can I go to Scott’s?”
Evan’s mom turned around and walked back into the kitchen.
He followed her, hoping the floury hands meant she’d been making cookies. On the counter, a pie was cooling. Even better.
“Who’s Scott?”
“Is that peach pie?” he asked hopefully.
“Evan King,” she admonished. “One thing at a time. Who is Scott?”
“He’s my best friend,” Evan said.
“Uh-huh. Andy was your best friend last week.”
“He’s my second best friend now.”
“Is that so,” she said in a way that wasn’t a question.
Without waiting to be asked, Evan went to the kitchen sink and washed his hands. He’d been playing outside and knew his mom wouldn’t let him have pie unless he washed up.
“Scott has a whole bunch of action figures,” Evan said, drying his hands on his shorts. There wasn’t a towel anywhere he could see. “And he let me play Hulk even though Hulk is his favorite too. He’s got loads of them. Wolverine and Punisher and Iron Man and Spider- Man and Captain America and—”
“Would you like some pie, Evan?”
“Yes, please. Then can I go to Scott’s? His mom said it was okay.”
“Where does Scott live?” she asked as she cut a nice-sized piece of pie—it was peach—and put it in his favorite dish.
“Dunno.”
“Okay. Where did you meet him? At the playground?”
“Yep.” Evan hopped up onto one of the tall stools in the kitchen so he could eat. “The one I’m allowed to go to. He said I could go home with him and his mom then, but I said I had to ask you first.”
“Good boy,” she said and ruffled his hair. “Tell you what, when you go over to the playground tomorrow, I’ll walk with you and see if Scott’s mom is there. Then we can arrange for you to go over some time.”
Evan nodded, his mouth full of pie. “Okay.”
Blurb
When you realize you want to marry your best friend at age six, life should follow a pretty predictable path, right? Maybe not.
As a kid, Evan King thought Scott Sparrow was the most amazing person he’d ever met. At seventeen, his crush runs a little deeper, and nothing seems simple anymore. Scott is more interested in football and girls than playing superheroes, and Evan’s attention is focused on getting into art school. A late-night drunken kiss is something to be forgotten, not obsessed over for the next ten years.
When life suddenly brings them back together, it doesn’t take much for the flame Evan carried for Scott nearly all his life to come roaring back, and Evan discovers that life sometimes has a strange way of coming full circle.
Anna Martin is from a picturesque seaside village in the south- west of England and now lives in the slightly arty, slightly quirky city of Bristol. After spending most of her childhood making up stories, she studied English Literature at university before attempting to turn her hand as a professional writer.
Apart from being physically dependent on her laptop, Anna is enthusiastic about writing and producing local grassroots theater (especially at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, where she can be found every summer), going to visit friends in other countries, baking weird and wonderful sweets, learning to play the ukulele, and Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk.
Anna claims her entire career is due to the love, support, pre-reading, and creative ass kicking provided by her best friend Jennifer. Jennifer refuses to accept responsibility for anything Anna has written.
Today we give a warm welcome to Beany Sparks, and before anyone asks, no, the blog post title isn’t meant to be snarky. I’m just really in love with this lady’s stories and her covers (especially this one):
-Kimi
And now a word from Beany:
Hey Kimi *waves* thanks for having me 🙂
Hi everyone, I’m Beany Sparks and I’m here with my muses PITA and Arty to tell you a little bit about me and my writing.
I’ve only been a published author since September 2014 and I’ve only been writing since the beginning of 2014. However, I’ve been making up stories since way before then, but it wasn’t until some friends encouraged me to give it a go and I opened Word that PITA was released. Yes, I named my muse PITA and yes it stands for Pain In The Ass because most of the time, he is. I have tried shoving him back in his box but it doesn’t hold him for long. Eventually I gave up and let him do whatever he wants and I just curse him when he brings me more plot bunnies.
Arty, my artistic muse, will sometimes hide PITA away and then convince me to play with covers or banners, which is good because once I’ve got a cover ready I have something to draw inspiration from.
I’ve written stories before getting the covers and I’ve written stories once I’ve got the covers and I love having a cover because when the story isn’t flowing, I can just look at the pretty cover until PITA starts chatting. Plus I get to a certain point in a story and then I have to do the cover because Arty is being louder than PITA.
As for how the stories come to me, there are many different ways. Shades of Power (Arcane Magic 1) started because I was listening to the song Black Magic and I had it on repeat for an entire day. By the end of the day I had an idea for the story with plans for books 2 and 3. Other times I’ve just let my mind wander. Well to be honest, my mind wanders daily, and sometimes the ideas stick, other times they’re just for my amusement. Sometimes even conversations with friends spark an idea and that idea is then added to the ever growing list of WIPs.
Next on my WIP schedule will be the sequel to Pib’s Dragon which is being released on the 27th of May. After that I’ll be going back to my Arcane Magic series.
Hm, I think that’s enough rambling for me. Thanks Kimi for letting me stop by 🙂
About Beany Sparks
Beany Sparks lives in Western Australia. She first started reading romance novels in 2008, but it wasn’t until January 2010 when her Kindle got delivered (which she had brought herself on Christmas Day 2009) that the world of erotic romance opened its doors to her, and she hasn’t looked back.
Since English was never her strong subject at school she never expected to write a story, let alone try to get it published. With suggestions and support from friends, her muse—“affectionately” known as PITA—was finally able to break free, and in January 2014 her first story was written. Since she can’t put PITA back in his box—she’s tried!—Beany has decided to give in and team up with him.
In late 2015 Arty–her artistic muse—made an appearance. There have been many times when Arty has tied and hidden PITA away from Beany in order to make her do something artistic, but PITA is always found (eventually), the balance is restored (until they fight for attention again) and life goes back to normal.
…Well as normal as can be for a rainbow ninja…
Links
Website: http://www.beanysparks.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/beany.sparks/
Email: [email protected]
Blog: http://www.beanysparks.com/blog/
Twitter: @BeanySparks
Books (mentioned in post): Shades of Power (Arcane Magic 1)
Blurb:
An explosion sends Ethan running…straight into the arms of his mate.
Ethan White is a witch whose days are spent in his apothecary with his familiar, Beema. While making potions for the townsfolk keeps him busy, nothing exciting ever happens—until one day when a surprise visitor walks in and his world crumbles around him. Suddenly Ethan and his familiar are on the run, heading for the Fae to seek sanctuary. Grayson is an alpha wolf. His two best friends are his betas, but there’s one thing missing—a pack. It’s for that very reason that the three of them were volunteered by the council to act as representatives. Their mission? Try to convince the Fae Queen to get the Fae involved in a battle with the Midnight Coven, the witches suspected of using the dark arts. However, the mission takes a back seat when Grayson meets his mate for the first time. With revelations and lies around every corner and a battle looming, they have to be ready to fight if they want to have a life together. When a prophecy about the Shades of Power comes to light, both sides want the power for the battle against the other. The question is—who will unite them first?
Buy Links: Amazon
Pib’s Dragon
Blurb:
A dragon is about to find out what happens when a cat discovers his cave of shiny treasures.
After nine years, Pib is finally free from his contract with the newly wed prince. Slipping out in the middle of the night to avoid getting stuck in another contract, Pib shifts into his cat and makes his way home to the little village he foolishly left, hoping his best friend Wil still lives there. Dray is bored. His services as a princess-guarding dragon are no longer needed and even his gold and jewels are unable to cheer him up. His mood changes quickly when he catches someone in his treasure cave, and it starts a series of events that change his life forever. When the two finally meet, sparks fly, but Dray will have to move quickly if he’s to save his cat after Pib gets kidnapped.
Noah Trevelyan has lost his moorings. Disowned over his sexuality as a teenager, he hasn’t been back to his home on the Outer Banks since his fisherman father kicked him out. But when he returns for the Old Man’s funeral, he discovers his father left him the house and boat in his will. Noah must choose whether to stay or go, but he won’t be alone.
There’s Ian, working to overcome the emotional scars left by a domineering ex-boyfriend, and Ty, a cheerful housekeeper who’s struggling to take care of his Alzheimer’s-stricken aunt. There’s Joshua too, running from the destruction of his old life, and Gabriel, who was once beaten and left for dead, and doesn’t know how to survive on his own.
Will they find in each other the strength and courage to keep living—and learn, together, how to love again? A polyamorous relationship is the last thing any of them expected to find in the Outer Banks, but it might be what they need most, and it might even be their redemption—if they can keep their group from breaking apart under the pressure.
Hello, Kimi-chan Experience! Thanks for hosting this guest post for my new novel, Five-Sided Heart.
I love polyamory. Always have, always will. The idea of an entire group of people held together by bonds of affection, passion and friendship captured my heart from the moment I first heard of it, first realized it was an actual thing that actual people sometimes actually did. All that potential, and all that love. I had to write about it.
When it came time to blog about it, I knew I wanted to introduce my characters.
Gabriel, lord. Gabriel was my problem child. There’s always one, and he jumped right in there with both feet. I think because he was the kind of person I’ve been before—the kind of person I can still be sometimes. He’s been hurt, and badly. He’s frustrated by his inability to be perfect, and he let that get so far under his skin that he ended up with scars on the inside and the outside.
Not an easy man to love—mostly because he wouldn’t let anyone even try. Whenever inspiration failed him and his art suffered, he blamed himself. His taste for rough sex started out as the only medicine he could bear to swallow, especially because it wasn’t what he needed. He wanted to be punished for being himself, but ended up being abducted and left for dead. He accepted the blame when he was told it was his fault, and internalized the shame. Even now, he thinks he’s broken because he still likes rough sex, likes being told what to do, and doesn’t know how to ask for it in a safe way.
He’s come to the Outer Banks with the intention of ending it all.
Not easy to write.
But the thing is, Gabriel can’t find the ending he thought he wanted. Instead, he finds himself caught up in something that’s beginning. Something that his passionate soul has been dying of thirst for, though he never knew it. Men who understand him, who can give him what he really needs, and help him learn how to live again rather than drift away into darkness. Whether he likes it or not—and whether he can learn how to love freely, with an open heart.
He wants to trust them. He wants to learn how to forgive himself. He wants to love.
Learning how is the difference, for Gabriel, between life and death.
Excerpt
A few minutes of rummaging through a closet netted Joshua two pockets full of necessary toiletries and a handful of clean-smelling sweats. Small sizes. They’d likely shrunk in the wash and been thriftily saved. He found towels, scented with a different brand of laundry soap, in the hall closet.
It’d do.
He followed his ears and the sound of clanking pipes to another door, where he heard the distinct patter of shower spray on a tile floor and the sound of a body moving slowly through that water. Joshua rapped his knuckles against the door. “Gabriel?”
No answer. Frowning, Joshua tried again. Still no luck.
Could be he was still shocky. Joshua wasn’t sure. He kept flashing back to the way Gabriel had gone limp when towed, not even trying to fight, and it didn’t sit right no matter how Joshua tried to shift it around.
Ah hell. Joshua tried the knob. The pitted brass turned easily—not even locked—and a billow of steam rushed out. Good lord, was he trying to boil himself alive? Joshua swung the door open wider.
Still no response. He could see Gabriel, though, still on his feet, his head bowed directly beneath the spray. The clear glass door of the walk-in shower hid nothing, and though he had indeed gone as red as a lobster from the heat, his scars still showed lurid purple. Gabriel rubbed at them with his bare hand, no soap, as if trying to scrape them away.
Joshua dropped his goods on the sink top and rapped his knuckles against the wall. “Gabriel? You okay?”
He got a reaction that time, all right—a startled gasp, a jerk upright that slung a comma of water from Gabriel’s sodden hair against the shower wall, and two quick steps backward that smacked his shoulders into the same wall. Jesus. He’d been through some shit, hadn’t he? Those scars were vicious. Defensive wounds on his arms and a crosshatched pattern sliced from temple to chin. His mouth ticked up slightly on that side, as did the corner of the eye.
Gabriel’s throat worked convulsively as he stared wide-eyed at Joshua. Slowly, ever so slowly, his scarred hand closed into a fist. “Do you like what you see?”
Well, shit. Joshua held his arm in front of his face. “Didn’t mean to stare. Sorry. Just brought you some dry stuff.”
“Why shouldn’t you stare? Go on. Do you like what you see?”
Gabriel’s wide eyes were wild, feverish, and wouldn’t let Joshua turn his gaze discreetly away. Bringing out the claws and yet pleading with Joshua at the same time, for—what?
All right, then. Joshua dropped his arm and looked frankly at Gabriel. Taking him in good and proper, from his long hair, saturated and gone dark as ink, to the fine lines of his bones and the slim strength in his shoulders, his arms, and his legs. The scars petered out over Gabriel’s ribs, then cropped up again briefly at his hips.
He had been beaten—and beaten badly. Whoever had done this had carved on his face and finished the job by kicking the shit out of him. No wonder Gabriel came across as skittish as a feral cat.
And yet… and yet. Beneath the marred skin, Gabriel’s bones were still as fine as carved ivory.
Gabriel swallowed again, painfully loudly. “Well?”
Joshua shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.” Hell, he’d seen worse done while guards had their backs turned and pretended innocence, though he wouldn’t tell Gabriel as much.
Gabriel scoffed at him.
“They’re just scars,” Joshua said, because they were. “You’re lucky.”
Fine lines appeared on Gabriel’s forehead as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “What?”
“You lived. Whoever did that probably didn’t mean for you to. But you did. They’re just scars. The rest of you, that’s beautiful to see.” Joshua raised one shoulder, embarrassment making him gruff. “I’ll leave you in peace.”
He could feel Gabriel staring holes through his back until he closed the bathroom door behind him.
Max MacGowan is a work in progress. They’ve just turned forty, and are determined not to go gently into that good night. They identify as nonbinary genderqueer, and prefer they/them pronouns. While they can be quiet, friends will tell you all that still water can’t quite hide Max’s quirky personality, Or maybe it’s the ever-present puckish twinkle in the eyes that’s really to blame.
Max has a fantastic time writing male/male romance, and is especially fond of polyamory, found families, love in unexpected places, friends who become lovers, and romantic comedies. They’re owned by two rowdy tomcats who take pains to make sure their owner doesn’t ever get the status confused.
Noah Trevelyan has lost his moorings. Disowned over his sexuality as a teenager, he hasn’t been back to his home on the Outer Banks since his fisherman father kicked him out. But when he returns for the Old Man’s funeral, he discovers his father left him the house and boat in his will. Noah must choose whether to stay or go, but he won’t be alone. There’s Ian, working to overcome the emotional scars left by a domineering ex-boyfriend, and Ty, a cheerful housekeeper who’s struggling to take care of his Alzheimer’s-stricken aunt. There’s Joshua too, running from the destruction of his old life, and Gabriel, who was once beaten and left for dead, and doesn’t know how to survive on his own.
Will they find in each other the strength and courage to keep living—and learn, together, how to love again? A polyamorous relationship is the last thing any of them expected to find in the Outer Banks, but it might be what they need most, and it might even be their redemption—if they can keep their group from breaking apart under the pressure.
Kimi’s Thoughts:
This was an interesting read. It’s a story about regrets and moving past trials life has made one endure, of forging a life that one wants to live. Five men arrive to take a ferry to a small island. One is returning for his father’s funeral, two others live and work on the island, and two more seem to be tourists. Of course, everything is not quite as it seems and when they miss the ferry and Noah remembers his father’s boat moored there, they are literally thrown together.
As each man interacts with the others, a definite spark happens. At first it seems to be mere lust- a bunch of guys letting off steam and enjoying themselves immensely. But just as their reasons for being on the island, and their lives before meeting, are complicated, so are the emotions. They quickly become entangled, each man unwilling to allow the others to soldier on alone. Before they know it, their hearts and minds are hopelessly ensnared. This adds another wrinkle, as the island is a small, conservative community. How they handle it, their relationship, and make peace with their lives makes for a great get away from it all read that is at times angsty and achingly emotional.
Title: Lime and Tangerine Author: Kevin Caucher Genre: Gay Romance, Science Fiction Length: Novella Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing
Synopsis
The post-apocalyptic world has changed. Colors have changed.
The skies are now red, and the seas fandango pink.
There are those who’ve acquired skills as “squinters”. By narrowing their eyes, they can see people in different colors—colors by which they can define their mood.
Senlin was born a squinter. A child of the foster system, the lack of love has left him with casual views on sex.
When Sicong recruits him into SQX, a squinter organization, Senlin wants nothing more than to jump his bones, but Sicong’s detachment makes Senlin believe his feelings aren’t reciprocated.
Senlin and Sicong’s relationship begins to grow as they undertake missions together.
That is, until an enemy of SQX turns his attention upon them.
Excerpt
I smiled a bit and lay back down, but the pain kept me awake. I looked sideways at the nightstand and found my personal belongings there. I shifted my eyes toward him. He seemed to be lost in contemplation. I took the opportunity to mood-color him again. He was hot pink: a color for guilt. “You’re guilty.”
Sicong was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t hear me the first time. When I repeated, he looked startled. “What?”
“I said you’re guilty. Why?”
“Why don’t you get some rest and stop mood-coloring me?”
Why is he being defensive? “Painful. Can’t sleep,” I answered. “Come on, tell me what you did. Why are you guilty?”
“I was thinking if I hadn’t asked you to participate in this mission, you probably wouldn’t have ended up getting shot.”
“But I was the only one you could find—I’m pretty sure you said that. Besides, I’d have gotten shot either way if I ever went to Tingo.”
I saw him trying hard to keep his embarrassment out of his face, but he failed miserably with his ears; they were unusually red. “It wasn’t the truth. I could have asked others, because it was supposed to be an easy assignment. There are plenty who would have gone if I insisted. I’m a bistre, you know?”
“Yeah.” I stayed quiet after that. He said he could’ve not asked me, but he still did. What does that mean? I twitched my lips into a slight smile. I sure hope that means he likes me enough to want to spend time with me. Buy Links
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Growing up in China, KEVIN CAUCHER never thought he’d grow up loving to write; never did he expect himself ending up in Australia either. He is now happily partnered in NSW Illawarra area and writing.
Kevin’s writing is mainly influenced by his growing up as a gay Chinese; he also sometimes pops out totally random stories that has nothing to do with his growing up.
Besides his passion for writing, Kevin has also opened a cafe in December 2015. “There, the cliché of authors writing in a cafe.”
