Sunday, February 13, 2011
Well, I Never
“Belonging” is now on the market. For those who missed my earlier chest-thumping, “Belonging” is the story of Jeremy, a young man raised by vampires, who falls in love with a vampire, only to discover his boyfriend is carting around some really serious baggage. More serious than being undead, having fangs and drinking blood, I mean.
I never thought I’d write a vampire story. Hell, I never thought I’d be writing romance. I grew up reading SF, fantasy and comic books. I watched Star Trek religiously. Romance novels in those days centered on weepy wussettes who pined after arrogant assholes who belittled them throughout the book and then married them in the last chapter. Not what I wanted to read, and definitely not what I’d write. Write a romance? I scoff at you.
Shows what I know.
At some point in the 1980s the wussettes stopped crying, got jobs, got independent, kicked those arrogant jerks to the curb and found men worthy of them. I discovered Nora Roberts and started reading romance. I was still into SF and fantasy, though the books I’d always favored had a romantic element to them. I was writing and occasionally selling fantasy stories. Still no plans to write romance.
Enter paranormals. Suddenly the fantasies had hot parts. I could get mutants and relationships in the same book. Better still, humor, long missing from both genres, was allowed. Okay, maybe I could write this.
A market call for an anthology sparked an idea and prompted me to try my hand. They didn’t take my story. Another publisher did. All of a sudden I was a published paranormal romance writer.
Hetero only, thank you very much. Chicks and dudes exclusively. Okay, back in high school when I was writing X-Men fan fiction I made Angel gay. That was an aberration. I don’t do slash. No way.
Then another market opened up, and sparked another idea. Two guys, one woman. The guys ditch the woman and end up together. It sold. Just like that I’m a published writer of paranormal M/M romantic comedy. If my English teachers could only see me now.
Still no vampires. The market, in my opinion, had become oversaturated with the fangy fuggers. Sure, I read “Interview with the Vampire,” and drooled over Spike like everyone else with estrogen. Couldn’t get into “Moonlight,” sorry. I planned to stick to shapeshifters. What else could be said about vampires? How do you make it original? Nope. No vampires, no way, no how.
You know where this is going.
No anthology this time, just the raw idea. I look down at my screen and there’s a vampire there and I’m writing about him. Them. Two guys again. What the hell? What happened to all the women?
Okay, there’s a woman. She’s in the next one. Halfway through my vampy tale I got an idea for a sequel. A M/M/F ménage. I never thought I’d be writing a ménage, but …
The moral of the story? Never say never, I guess. My subconscious is a twisted bastard and my muse is an evil bitch. If this keeps up, I’ll be writing that M/M/M ménage idea after all, and damn the pronouns. That one has an SF setting. I haven’t abandoned my background entirely.
One little side note: My original title was “Blood Lust,” but while I was dragging my feet with the final edits Stormy Glen came out with a book with that title and I had to scramble after something else. The moral of THAT story is, stop screwing off and get back to work before all the good titles get taken. I’ll never procrastinate again. Oh, wait …
Categories: Erotic Romance, Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Word Count: 53,465
Heat Level: SIZZLING
Published By: Siren-Bookstrand, Inc.
This new release is offered at a 15% discount for four weeks.
[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, vampires]
Raised by vampires, Jeremy Teach wants nothing more than to belong to a vampire. After a slayer destroys his family, Jeremy flees to southern California and finds work as a prostitute in a brothel that caters to paranormal creatures. Here he meets and falls in love with Wallace, one of his vampire clients.
However, Wallace is harboring a deadly secret from his long-lost human past that threatens their future together. Can Jeremy learn to forgive, or is their relationship doomed?
A Siren Erotic Romance
Too soon they arrived back at Jeremy’s apartment. He climbed the steps reluctantly, Wallace at his back. What now? Stick with the brain and take things slow, or listen to his cock and go for it?
He unlocked the door and stepped inside. Wallace started to follow then slammed to a halt as if he’d run up against an invisible wall. “What?” Jeremy started before he remembered. “Oh. Right.”
“‘Right,’ he says. The big vampire expert. Private dwelling, scarecrow. I can’t come in unless you invite me.” He took a step back onto the landing and waited expectantly.
Moment of truth time. In his brief seconds of hesitation his brain reared up and reasserted itself. “If I ask you in, I won’t want you to leave. I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
Wallace took it better than expected, with a curt nod instead of a protest. “It is your night off, and I did promise no sex. Just tell me who the bastard is so I can hunt him down and rip his guts out.”
“Whatever bat it was who screwed you up this bad. I know you want me. Your pulse has been skidding all over creation tonight, but you keep fighting it. The marks don’t always show up on the skin.”
Jeremy sagged against the doorjamb. “Her,” he said, “and she didn’t screw me up. Don’t bother looking. She’s gone.”
“Her.” Wallace pressed his lips together. “I should have figured. That’s why I steer clear of women. They can fuck up a guy something fierce. Is that why you stick to males now? Oh, stop giving me the look. You can keep your little secrets. We’ll save it for the next date. There’s going to be a second date, right?”
Jeremy shook his head. “We’d better not. We’d better just keep it professional, and safe.”
“Fuck safe.” A corner of Jeremy’s jacket poked out beyond the barrier of the threshold. Wallace grabbed it and hauled Jeremy back onto the landing. He clamped his hand on the back of Jeremy’s neck and claimed Jeremy’s mouth with his own.
No desperate, beast-blind attack this time. The kiss left Jeremy floundering in something close to shock. Unused to a vamp in full control of himself, he had no idea how to respond.
“I know what your problem is.” Wallace’s mouth moved against his lips. “We’re outside the whorehouse now. Outside your little controlled environment. Out here in the real world you’re not in charge. You don’t know what’s going to happen. That’s what’s making you twitchy.” His grin brushed Jeremy’s cheek. “Too bad. I don’t want the whore. I want you, and that’s who I intend to get. Stop trying to run things. I’m driving the bus now. Relax and enjoy.”
Having little choice at the moment, Jeremy gave in. Past and future faded until only the present remained, brought into sharp focus by Wallace’s firm, full lips and the skillful probe of his powerful vampire’s tongue. Fangs scratched teasingly over Jeremy’s lower lip, the enticement of a nip that never came.
After a timeless stretch, Wallace eased away, leaving Jeremy reeling. He had to take a moment to re-orient himself in the here and now. At some point, Wallace had backed him against the doorjamb. It was the only thing holding him up, as his legs had lost most of their strength.
Wallace nodded over his handiwork, grinning like a fiend. “That’s what I like to see, you all shook up like that.” He dropped his gaze from Jeremy’s face to far lower down. His grin got even wider. “If I took you right now, right out here,” he said huskily, “would any of your neighbors object?”
“Mrs. Schneider would probably call the cops, but not till we’re done. Her TV’s broken.”
“Get her up here. We’ll have a threesome.”
“I’ll make her go easy on you.”
Jeremy happily kept his word because Wallace had kept his. From Wallace’s first touch, his naked body pressed to Jeremy’s, it was clear the vampire was in full control of himself. No mindless gropes, no frantic blood-lust fumbling. He could surrender himself without qualm to Wallace’s expertise.
Except for a vampire’s patented oral fixation.
After Jeremy turned his head away for the second time, Wallace growled and sat up. “All right, scarecrow. What did I fuck up now?”
“Nothing. I can’t help it. I swear I taste rat.”
“It’s all in your head. I downed half a bottle of Scope in there. You want me to brush my teeth again?”
“I don’t think that’ll help. Wait, I’ve got an idea. You willing to try something new?”
Wallace brightened. “The dresser?”
“No, not the dresser. God. Here. Sit up, against the headboard. Yeah, like that. Now spread your legs. Wider.”
“You like giving orders, don’t you?”
Jeremy couldn’t answer. He’d already knelt between Wallace’s thighs and taken his cock in his mouth. Wallace had a thick, heavy penis that required a bit of jaw-stretching, but not so big that Jeremy couldn’t handle it. He grinned mentally at the surprised noise Wallace made, and went to work.
His cock was so hot, almost burning. Normally sucking off a vamp was like swallowing a Popsicle. Jeremy worked his way down with deliberate slowness, savoring every torrid millimeter. He switched his attention to Wallace’s sack, and sucked expertly on his balls. If only his own tongue were as rough as a bat’s, to bring off that extra bit of tactile pleasure. Judging by the delighted sounds Wallace was making, and the hand that suddenly clenched in his hair, Jeremy figured the vamp didn’t mind.
When he had Wallace’s penis sufficiently slicked up and nicely hardened, Jeremy pulled away. Wallace voiced an incoherent protest and grabbed at him to haul him back. Instead Jeremy turned his back and started to lower himself. Wallace hissed against his shoulder as understanding caught up with him. He set his powerful hands on Jeremy’s narrow hips to guide the human onto his straining, eager cock.
Already adjusted to each other, they fit together with Jeremy settled on Wallace’s lap. Wallace filled every square inch of him. He reached around and caught Jeremy’s narrower shaft in his hand and stroked in time to the pumping of his hips.
With all his senses focused on his building release, Jeremy almost didn’t register the scrape of teeth on his sensitized skin. Wallace had gotten caught up in the moment and forgotten the no-mouth rule. He closed his teeth on Jeremy’s shoulder then nibbled and gnawed his way up to the neck, and the pulsing, tantalizing jugular.
Yes, Jeremy gasped in his head. He gripped the hand working his cock and urged it faster while he leaned into the assault on his throat. Bite me. For God’s sake, bite me. Please.
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If you made it down this far, congratulations. Like the pic? Me too. In my opinion, the scariest thing on the streets is a slash fan with Photoshop.
Posted by Pat C.