It’s amazing that in these days of digital-first
publishing, stories can be directed to an audience down to the proverbial
gnat’s eyelash. You don’t have to settle for specifying that you like M/M or
BDSM or romantic suspense. Readers can look for M/M BDSM books that happen to
also be suspenseful. And when you submit a book to a publisher, you indicate
the genre and subgenre you have written so they know how to market it.
My first novel, Genetic Attraction, was M/M/F ménage
contemporary. Easy peasy. My fourth book, Golden Dancer, is a M/M/M romantic
suspense. Spell Cat, that comes out in the spring is another simple
category-- M/M contemporary paranormal. But my other books? Not so simple. I
first got into difficulty with my second book. The Scientist and the Supermodel
is M/M. It’s the love story of two men. Seems straightforward. Nope. Because
it’s the prequel to Genetic Attraction
and the guys are bisexual it was categorized as a ménage even though it wasn’t. My summer novella, Volley Balls, is LGBT
contemporary. It’s also the love story of two men. But the suggestion that a
third man may enter the relationship was expanded into a full love scene at the
last moment at the publisher’s suggestion and bingo, it’s a M/M/M ménage even though
the third guy gets no air time and is an antagonist for most of the book. I’ll
bet some readers have wondered where the heck the third person is for many
pages. LOL
And now there is Mistletowed. It’s the humdinger! This
is a short novel (32,000+ words) with seven important characters! It starts
with two M/F couples and their gay friend plus two other friends. It ends up
being a M/M book that also has M/F and M/M/F ménage with BDSM. Plus it has a
touch of paranormal!
It's hard to categorize this ensemble romance. And I don’t know who will read it! (But I
hope you will.) I guess you can say it has something for everyone.
Why do I insist on writing outside the defined lines?
Because that is what interests me. I started my fiction writing career really
late and I do what I love to do. Throwing interesting characters together and
seeing where they take me is a delight! I also enjoy fluidity and the
unexpected in characters’ sexuality. This all adds up to books outside the box.
But I love writing them. And I hope you enjoy reading them.
Would you like to win Mistletowed? Go over to http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com
and leave a comment and FOLLOW the blog. You will get another entry. There will
be a lot of other opportunities to win Mistletowed before Christmas. Watch
for them at Beautiful Boys Books. Thank you so much! : )
And here's a nibble of Mistletowed:
Excerpt: Mistletowed by Tara Lain;
M/M, M/F, M/M/F with BDSM, with MAGIC!
Available December 13 from Loose Id.
Ripping the box cutter through the
cardboard, Buttercup tore down another carton to take to recycling. She grabbed
the pile of books, hefted them into the front of the store, and loaded them on
a shelf she’d prepared earlier. Shoot, long day and more to go. The shop was
closed Mondays, and since Winston taught several classes, it was her chance to
really do the unpacking, stocking, and other big jobs.
A knock rattled the glass. She smiled.
The shop had a lot of loyal customers, and sometimes they really needed
something for a spiritual event or ceremony. They knew she’d sell it to them,
even if she was closed. She lifted the edge of the shade that covered the glass
door. What the heck? Melanie and Andy stood outside, scarves around
their necks against the California chill.
She opened and motioned them in. “What’s
up, you two?”
Melanie wore tight black yoga pants that
looked great on her slim frame and a hooded sweatshirt. “You doing inventory,
Buts?”
“Unpacking and stocking, actually. Not
as tedious. Why?”
“Want a volunteer?” Mel pointed to Andy,
who smiled. The man sure didn’t talk for himself much.
Buttercup noticed he was wearing workout
pants and a sweatshirt too. “You came dressed for the job?”
He looked down. “No, I was going to do
yoga with Mel.”
“Then Winston told us you were working
hard over here, and Saint Andy wouldn’t hear of you doing it alone, so he made
me bring him here.”
“Really?” She looked at him, and he
blushed. “Hell’s bells, I can always use help. Especially strong male help.”
“Well, you got him. I’m gonna be late
for class. Can you bring him home when you leave?”
“Sure.” Hell, the guy looked appetizing
in those slim athletic pants. A lot better than khakis.
Melanie rushed off, glancing at her
watch, and Buttercup looked at her new apprentice. Why on earth had the guy
wanted to help her? “You sure about this? Yoga would be a lot more fun.”
He looked down and blushed again. “Yeah,
I’m sure.”
“Okay. You asked for it.”
An hour later she had run cute Andy
ragged. He’d carried boxes, unloaded books, cut up cartons, and ferried stacks
of material to the recycle bin. She asked. He did. Not a question. She’d died
and gone to heaven. She looked at him up on the stepladder. Hell’s bells, she
had a lot of cute butts in her life right now. “Hey, let’s take a break. You
like tea?”
“Sure.”
She went back to the little kitchen area
she kept in her stockroom, poured a couple cups, and turning, found he’d
followed her in. “You want milk or sugar?”
He smiled shyly. “How do you take
yours?”
“I like milk in this kind of tea.”
“Okay.”
They sat in the two café chairs at a
little round table shoved up against the wall. “So you’re a stockbroker?”
“Yeah. A Portfolio manager, actually.”
He looked up at her through his lashes. “It’s okay to be surprised. Everyone
is.”
“’Cause you’re so, uh, quiet?”
“Yeah. But I have a gift for stock
picking and market analysis. I’m actually pretty good at it.”
“Yeah, Mel said.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound
egotistical or anything. I --”
“Andy, quit it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” And he simply stopped
talking.
She stared at him. “What did you say?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why did you say that?”
His eyes stayed cast down. “Because I
want to please you. Do what you say.”
“Why?” He didn’t answer. “Answer me,
Andy.”
“Yes, ma’am. I want to do what you say
because I like you so much, and I want to serve you.”
Well, shit. Just plain shit. “You don’t
even know me.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do. I felt I was supposed
to come here, and when I met you, I knew why. Because you’re my…” His eyes
glanced up, then back to his teacup.
“Your what?”
“My mistress.”
Holy shit. What had she done by putting
her desires out into the universe? Created a ready-made slave? “Andy, did
Melanie tell you I’m with someone?”
“Yes, but we don’t have to have sex.
Just let me serve you, please.”
“Sweetheart, didn’t you just break up
with someone?”
He nodded.
“See, that’s all that’s going on. You’re
on the rebound from this other woman.”
“Man.”
“Hell! Andy, was this man your dom?”
“Yes.”
“And your lover?”
He nodded.
“So you’re gay?”
“No, I’ve always been with women until
him.”
“I’m not even a dominatrix.”
She got that glance through the lashes
again. Sexy much? “Yes, you are. You’re my Mistress Buttercup.”
She burst out laughing. “See, right
there I fail. A dominatrix has to be named Tanya or Greta or Antonia. Certainly
not Buttercup.”
E-mail:
tara@taralain.com
Website: http://www.taralain.com
Author blog: http://taralain.blogspot.com
Book blog: http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com
Savvy Authors: http://www.savvyauthors.com/vb/member.php?2398-Tara-Lain
Twitter:
http://twitter.com/taralain
2 comments:
Great post, Tara. Definitely keep writing outside the lines. Loved the except too. Looking forward to reading more.
Laughed at your description. Is there anything you DON'T have in there!!! It does sound fun.
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