Can Two Hollywood Hunks Find Love this Christmas?

Meet Ryan and Cary, the Hollywood stars of my new Christmas romance Where the Lovelight Gleams -- available today from Loose Id!

This Christmas, actor Ryan Drake is pining. He may get to kiss gorgeous Cary Holloway on the set of their hit TV show, Space Academy, but he knows it’ll never happen in real life. Charming Cary–the son of Hollywood royalty–is straight, as evidenced by his starlet girlfriend. But Christmas is a time for unexpected gifts, and Cary accepts Ryan’s invitation to leave the palm trees behind and spend the holiday with his family at their cabin in the Great White North.

Amid the snow and mistletoe, Ryan struggles to keep his longing under wraps. Little does he know, Cary wrestles with his own unspoken desires and his very identity. Surrounded by family and holiday joy, their warm friendship deepens. Will these two co-stars have the courage to brave Hollywood pressures and take their romance offscreen–or will it be only in their dreams?

 Buy it today from Loose Id and find out! :D

p.s. Check out the Make the Yuletide Gay holiday book giveaway extravaganza!

Three Word Scenario: My Brother’s Best Friend

Here's another one of my three-word scenarios (where I take three random words and write whatever scenario comes to mind, using each word at least once.)

I had such fun with this one. I didn’t plan to do a holiday-themed scenario, but when I searched for the random words, I couldn’t resist the first one that came up. Perfect for this time of year. These scenarios seem to be getting longer and longer. Maybe I’ll end up with a novel-length one someday. 

The words for the following scenario were generated using this random word generator: pumpkin, computer, spark

(c) halfpoint / www.fotosearch.com Stock Photography

“You done with that pumpkin yet?” Leo was examining something on his computer. His eyes never left the screen as he asked me the question with as much interest as if he was talking to a telemarketer.

So much for confessing my feelings for him on Halloween.

We’d been seated across from each other at the kitchen table for the past hour, but until he’d asked about the pumpkin, neither of us had said more than five words. He had a trial to prepare for, and I had a pumpkin to gut.

Why’d I buy the thing anyway?

Because I’d always been a sucker for the holiday. As a kid I’d loved the costumes, the candy, going to my Grandma’s for a tall glass of cider, and trekking with my brother through the fallen leaves that covered the sidewalks of our neighborhood in search of those rare houses with the king-size candy bars.

Those fond memories were why I’d thought tonight would be the night I’d work up the courage to tell Leo I no longer thought of him as just my older brother’s best friend, to tell him I was seriously crushing on him.

I had been since the night my brother came home to the apartment we shared and announced that Leo was going to crash in our spare room for a while because he and his wife had separated.

“He’s gay,” my brother added as if that was all the explanation I needed. Maybe he thought all gay men instantly understood each other and didn’t need to speak at all.

But I did need to speak. It was driving me crazy not telling Leo how I felt.

He’d been staying with us for months now. Most nights my brother went out with whatever girl he was seeing, leaving Leo and me alone. We’d have dinner together, then he’d get some work done or suggest we rent a movie. Sometimes we’d just listen to music and shoot the shit for hours. I wasn’t usually as tongue-tied as I was now.

Of course, we’d never before discussed how much I wanted to suck his dick.

“Blake?” He leaned forward and snapped his fingers in front of my face. “You in there?”

“Yeah. What?”

“Did you finish it?” He gestured with his head to the pumpkin on the table.

The bumpy, orange surface before me only had one triangular eye carved into it and nothing else. I hadn’t had the focus to do more than that. “Sure. It’s done.”

Even without a mouth, the pumpkin seemed to be laughing at me.

Leo stood and stretched his arms over his head, giving me a glimpse of his stomach as the bottom edge of his T-shirt rose above the top of his jeans. I wanted to lick that skin, use my lips to trace the line of dark hair disappearing into the jeans that were unbuttoned at the top. I wanted to know if he wore boxers or briefs underneath, and if he was as controlled in bed as he was during the day in the courtroom. Or did he let go when he fucked? I wanted to know how it felt to have those serious, dark eyes staring at me in bed.

I licked my lips as he came around behind me to get a look at my pathetic carve job.

“That’s just about the scariest jack-o’-lantern I’ve ever seen.”

I elbowed him in the thigh. “Shut up.” I wanted to reach back and stroke that thigh with the palm of my hand. I held still.

He didn’t. He placed an open hand on the table beside the pumpkin and leaned over me so he could get a better look.

He was close; his chest made contact with my shoulder on his every breath. Neither of us spoke for a minute. Maybe two.

He didn’t need to stare at that stupid one-eyed jack-o’-lantern that long. There wasn’t much to see.

Maybe tonight was the night, after all, and maybe he wasn’t going to tell me to fuck off like I’d feared.

I turned my head his way. He did the same until we were eye to eye, and in that moment I knew. He wanted me the way I’d been wanting him.

The air in the room seemed to come alive with energy, like a spark of lightning had zipped through the space.

“Blake.” He breathed my name more than said it.

Then he moved with amazing assurance and speed. I couldn’t have stopped him if I’d wanted to. He tugged me out of the chair and backed me against the refrigerator behind us. I hit so hard, the upper freezer door popped open and smacked me in the back of the head. I didn’t care. He was touching me.

His mouth covered mine.

I wrapped my arms around him, clutching his back, dragging him closer, desperately wanting to memorize every inch of his body under my hands, every moment of the consuming kiss. Because that one kiss might be all I’d get.

As if I had a gift for prophesizing, he pulled back.

But he didn’t go far. He leaned in again so his forehead was pressed to my left temple. “I’ve waited so long for this.” He kissed my cheek, my earlobe. “Years.”

What? Did that mean… “So before?”

He looked away, toward the table and the pumpkin still sitting there with that taunting eye. Then he met my gaze again. “Yeah. Long before she and I called it quits.” He nuzzled the side of my neck. The scratch of his dark stubble on my skin had me very aware of his touch as he kissed his way up to my ear. “I think I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.”

We’d met when I was sixteen, when he and my brother had been freshmen in college.

Which meant… He’d wanted to be with me for over ten years.

“I just didn’t know how to accept it,” he added. “I pushed it aside, went on with my life. Only, my life was all a lie.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why tonight?”

He laughed. “I’ve been trying to make a move for weeks now. Just couldn’t figure out how. Never came on to a guy before, never kissed one.” He shook his head, glanced at the table again. “Watching you there, I couldn’t resist. You just looked so damn adorable carving that thing.” He kissed me, taking his time now, his hands exploring, his soft, wet tongue brushing against mine. Then he was backing me across the kitchen, moving us toward the hallway, toward my bedroom.

Passing by the table, I caught a glimpse of the single carved eye socket of that stupid, beautiful pumpkin—the best damn jack-o’-lantern on the planet.

“I love Halloween,” I murmured as my lips brushed his again.

Copyright (c) Sloan Parker, September 2013

Award-winning author Sloan Parker writes passionate, dramatic stories about two men (or more) falling in love. Sloan enjoys writing in the fictional world because in fiction you can be anything, do anything--even fall in love for the first time over and over again. She lives in Ohio with her partner and their neurotic cats where her greatest moments in life are spent with her family, her friends, and her characters. You can learn more about Sloan and her writing at www.sloanparker.com.

The Grass Isn't Always Greener

For the few of you out there who know me, you also know I’ve been away for a long time. Some of my absence was self-induced, some by circumstance. You see, two years ago I stood on the top of that writing/publishing hill, looking down at the valley below and thought how much greener the pastures looked and how unhappy I was with my current author status.

So, I jumped ship (so to speak). I pulled several of my book titles from some of my non-producing publishers, got my rights back and self-published them in an attempt to broaden my readership and keep more of my pitiful sales for myself. I also witness the greener pastures of the erotica market and decided to give it a try as well.

While I don’t regret these decisions, as they have provided me with new experiences and broadened my horizons, I’ve learned that I’m not quite as comfortable being a self-published author as I thought I would be. I’m also not able to write the type of erotica that really and truly sells. Yes, I got 70% of the royalties going through Amazon directly (among other places), but after I paid for cover art, editing and advertising, how much of that 70% did I actually get to keep? Plus (at least for me) there was still a certain amount of pride in seeing a publisher’s name on my book. In some weird, twisted way, it’s some sort of validation that my book is good enough to run with the big dogs. I’m sure that’s my insecurities talking, but oh well. It is what it is.

After my failure at my self-publishing experiment, I had some personal ‘real-world’ issue that cropped up and stopped my writing in its tracks. There for a while, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever write again. Then the crisis passed and my muse came raging back, demanding to be heard and bam! Within three months I had four stories written and ready for publication. That’s when I made the decision to return to where I’m most comfortable. I messaged my editor and the next thing I know, I have a contract, a release date and a beautiful new cover that showcases my story perfectly. Once again, my fragile ego has found validation from the approval of another and now, as I prepare to move forward with my new release, edits on a future story, and await validation on a third WIP in review, I find myself thankful that I didn’t cut all my ties.

What I’ve realized over these last two years is that I’m happy here at Loose-id. I get great book covers, a fantastic, amazing, most awesome editor to work with, and am treated as if I’m important to the company. While I needed to push my boundaries and test the waters of self-publishing, this is where I really belong and I’m happy to finally be back home.

AVAILABLE SEPTEMBER 10th.

Unedited Excerpt

Slowly, Lexi turned back and found Logan was indeed watching her. She held his gaze only to feel her body begin to tingle with a long-dormant awareness. How in the hell was she supposed to accomplish a good workout with him staring?

She was still pondering that question some time later as she struggled to focus while lifting free weights. Every time she finished a set of reps, she’d check the mirrors to locate Logan, and every time she found him studying her. Even while he’d participated in a burpee contest with Jason and Cole, his attention focused on her.

She turned to the weights, picked up a set of dumbbells, and move back to work on arm curls. Lexi widened her stance just a little, straightened her back, and lifted her head to look at the mirror. Her body jerked at the sight of Logan standing directly behind her. Her eyes widened as she stared at his reflection, catching his smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” His low tenor sent tiny trembles of desire vibrating through her body.

“I-it’s fine,” she managed to reply as she lifted the weight. “Can I help you with something?” Like washing your back or tending to your every desire? She nearly rolled her eyes at her wayward thoughts, but somehow managed to stay focused.

He arched a brow as his grin widened, and she swallowed hard. Was it possible he could tell what she was thinking? “Actually, I came over to help you.”

God, yes! She could think of several issues he could tend. “I don’t need any help,” she replied instead.

“Really?” He reached over her shoulder, his fingers grazing hers as he removed the weight and returned it to the rack.

Doing her best to ignore the ripples of need rolling through her body, she pretended to be indignant. “Hey!”

“Relax.” He picked up the next size weight and placed it in her hand. “I was just going to show you that you’ll get a better workout by going up a weight and doing fewer reps.”

His hand rested below hers, propping her up as she wrapped her fingers around the dumbbell. She turned to look over her shoulder at him and barely resisted the overwhelming urge to lean into him and kiss the slick skin on his neck. Why did he have to be so close? “I don’t want to build muscle, though,” she replied and was surprised by the breathlessness in her voice.

He moved closer, practically wrapping his big body around hers as he shifted to support her arms. “This isn’t about building muscle, sweetheart. It’s about building stamina. Now just follow what I tell you.”

Slowly she turned her attention back to the mirror and nearly swallowed her tongue at the sight reflecting back. With Logan’s body pressed against hers, she could feel the heat radiating off his big frame, and there was no way to mistake the desire she saw in his eyes. Hell, even she had to admit they looked good together. Still, it didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t interested in pursuing a new relationship. Am I?

“Now, slow, purposeful movements,” he guided. “Less repetitions. Maybe one set of eight on each arm, instead of the two sets of twelve you were doing.” For reasons she couldn’t quite explain she followed his direction without further argument. She didn’t think he knew better than her trainer, but something deep inside her seemed to bloom under his guidance. It wasn’t desire so much that welled within, though that was definitely present, but something more akin to a need for his approval. Why she could care what he thought, she wasn’t sure. All she really knew was that suddenly his praise mattered to her. Damn if that realization wasn’t just a little disconcerting.

He lowered his head and whispered against her ear. “That’s very good sweetheart. You follow direction well.” Then he brushed the softest of kisses over the spot just behind her ear. Lexi’s knees damn near buckled under the sudden wave of lust that swept through her. More than a little unnerved by her body’s reaction, she stepped out of his embrace and set the weights back in the rack.

“Um, thank you for your help,” she mumbled but couldn’t bring herself to look up at him. “I think that’s enough instruction for today.” She grabbed her towel off the bench and made a direct path for the bathroom. Her heart pounded so hard she swore it might just beat right out of her chest. She pushed open the bathroom door, walked straight to the sink, turned on the faucet, and began to splash cool water on her face.

After the horrible ending to her previous relationship, the last thing she wanted was to try again. She still had moments where her mind struggled to cope with the tragedy of that terrible night. How could she possibly bring herself to move forward after what happened? She lifted her head and stared at her reflection. Still, she couldn’t deny her body’s needs, and for reasons beyond comprehension Logan seemed to pull at all those needs, forcing them to the surface, where she had no choice but to face them.

She slapped a hand against the porcelain sink as frustration slowly mingled with desire. Of all the gyms he could have gone to in the city, why did he have to pick this one? Wasn't it bad enough that she'd have to see him on a daily basis at work? Without some sort of break from his overwhelming persona how long could she possibly hold out before succumbing to his will?

Enter my Facebook Contest to win a free copy of this book.

Behind Every Cloud by Penny Brandon

Behind Every Cloud has been released today! A long time in the making, the story of Kurt and Sasha is now out for you to enjoy.

Forced to live behind a lie because of a promise he made to his sister, Kurt's been celibate for twelve years. It's not so much the sex he misses, but the chance at a family like the one his parents brought him up to expect. Then he meets Sasha, and it becomes all about the sex. Though he tries hard to resist, Sasha's just too damn gorgeous, and Sasha wants him. So why not just give in?

Throwing himself with abandon into the Sydney gay scene, millionaire Sasha Harrison becomes playboy celebrity known to everyone as “Silver.” It was fun at first, but after five years of being the media's meal ticket he now just wants to be left alone. Hounded by reporters, he hides out with Kurt, the one guy who has no idea who he is, or was. But that's the problem. Kurt doesn't realize Sasha's not used to being turned down, and Sasha's not used to being with nice guys.


Here is the link to read an excerpt and to buy: http://www.loose-id.com/behind-every-cloud.html

First and Last Lines

The first and last sentences are considered by many to be the most important lines of a book. There’s even a commonly utilized blog topic where authors and readers post first and last lines of their favorite books, as well as tumblr posts dedicated to first lines and even one for all the Harry Potter books.

I thought it might be fun to take a look at the first and last lines from my Loose Id titles. I was surprised at how well the two sentences from each summed up the themes and character arcs of these stories, something I hadn’t consciously worked to do when writing them.

I was not surprised, however, to see how short the lines were. My editor says I have a very staccato style. My natural flow seems to be to write a longer sentence bracketed by shorter, punchier ones.

Here are the first and last lines of my LI books:

MORE
I hadn't seen any sign of my stalkers.
“I'll love you both until I take my last breath.”

BREATHE
Hope you found some peace in jail.
To save each other.

TAKE ME HOME
“Have you guys done it yet?”
So long as he was with Evan, he was home.

HOW TO SAVE A LIFE
“You’re mine now.”
“We’ll see.”

What are the first and last lines from one of your favorite books?




Award-winning author Sloan Parker writes passionate, dramatic stories about two men (or more) falling in love. Sloan enjoys writing in the fictional world because in fiction you can be anything, do anything—even fall in love for the first time over and over again. She lives in Ohio with her partner and their neurotic cats where her greatest moments in life are spent with her family, her friends, and her characters. You can learn more about Sloan and her writing at www.sloanparker.com.

Through to the end

There was a time when I would never put a book down without having finished it. Not all at one go, though I still do find books I have to keep reading and reading. But not so much nowadays. In the last couple of weeks, I've read several books and three of them I've given up on. One of them was JK Rowling's A Casual Vacancy. I almost got to page 90 with that but couldn't keep going. The writing was tight and descriptive but I was - oops sorry - bored. Bored with the plot - such as it was, and bored with the characters. The book I gave up on last night was the same- boring- but I gave up at chapter two. I could tell by the tone I wasn't going to like it. Life is too short to waste on books I don't like when there are lots out there still to be read.
Having said that - I have persisted with reading club books that I don't like - because I need to be able to discuss them with the group, and I have persisted with books that have had hundreds of 5 star reviews because I keep thinking - something magical is going to happen to make me like them- it rarely does. And I have persisted with some books that I don't like because I know I'm not the target audience and I want to give them a fair chance. But readers deserve better than a lot of rubbish that is out there.
The big name publishers - I'm not talking epublishers here - seem to be so obsessed with getting celebrity writers in their stable that they stop caring about the quality of what they produce. I used to buy as many as 12 paperbacks a month. Now I'm only going for my auto-buy authors for paperbacks. I've been disappointed too many times.
So is the quality falling or am I getting pickier in my old age?

Three-Word Scenario: My Roommate's Surprise (A Coming Out Story)

Here's another one of my three-word scenarios (where I take three random words and write whatever scenario comes to mind, using each word at least once.)

These three words came from Merriam-Webster.com's Word of the Day archive: voracious, hallmark, illustrious

"I'm gay."

Two words from my college roommate, and I couldn't blink, much less speak, or even keep my mouth from hanging open like I had a spontaneous, uncontrollable drooling problem.

I had lived with him for the past two years, and I'd had no idea.

I forced down a swallow. "You're…"

"Gay." He spoke the word slowly as if I might not understand what it meant.

What a laugh. Everyone had suspected I was gay long before I'd been certain of it myself. When I'd worked up the courage to tell my parents during Thanksgiving dinner four years ago, my mom exhaled a long breath like she'd been waiting for some horrible news instead, then said, "That's not news to us, honey, and we are very proud of you. Please pass the mashed potatoes."

So that was that. I was gay, and I'd been the last person in my life to realize it.

But Rex? The illustrious twenty-eight-year-old tattoo artist who, on a dare from a customer in his shop, filled out an application for Harvard, and when he was accepted, had decided to sell his shop and move to a dorm on campus so he could have the full "college experience."

Did that mean he wanted to do the curious-college-gay-experiment thing too? Or was he really telling me he already liked to fuck guys?

Rex had always had a voracious appetite for women. And they for him. What with the tribal tattoos covering his upper body and a physique that had the art students begging him to drop his pants for their Nude Drawings course. He was always dating women. And fucking them.

Or so I'd thought.

Maybe I'd never really known him.

Maybe these past two years had all been an act.

He threw me his hallmark grin. The one that showcased the dimples, even through the dark stubble on his face. The one that came with the pointed look in his eyes that said he was about to tease me about my love of cock—which had been happening more and more often as of late.

I was beginning to get that I might've missed something about him after all.

This time he didn't tease. He came to me, grabbed me by the back of the neck, then kissed me.

Not a slow, soft brush of lips, but a passionate, wild kiss that ended with me panting, sprawled out on my back across his bed, his body pressing into mine in all the right places.

He pulled back and gave me that grin again as he rubbed my cock through my jeans.

He'd definitely done this before.

"Yeah," I said. "You're gay."

And for the next hour and a half he showed me just how gay.




Award-winning author Sloan Parker writes passionate, dramatic stories about two men (or more) falling in love. Sloan enjoys writing in the fictional world because in fiction you can be anything, do anything—even fall in love for the first time over and over again. She lives in Ohio with her partner and their neurotic cats where her greatest moments in life are spent with her family, her friends, and her characters. You can learn more about Sloan and her writing at www.sloanparker.com.

Reading and Writing Gay Romance: Finding my place in the world

I saw this video the other day, and it reminded me of what it was like when I read my first gay erotic romance: like I had found my place in the world.


or watch on YouTube


Then as I started writing erotic books featuring gay love stories, I found myself even more comfortable and at ease. And not just with my writing. I was where I belonged.

Writing for publication, although very rewarding, is a long, often times very lonely and challenging career path. I truly believe you have to have a great deal of passion for what you’re doing to keep forging ahead. You have to feel like it’s what you were meant to do.

You have to feel like you’ve found your place in the world.


Award-winning author Sloan Parker writes passionate, dramatic stories about two men (or more) falling in love. Sloan enjoys writing in the fictional world because in fiction you can be anything, do anything...even fall in love for the first time over and over again. She lives in Ohio with her partner and their neurotic cats where her greatest moments in life are spent with her family, her friends, and her characters. You can learn more about Sloan and her writing at www.sloanparker.com. 

Grammatical Pet Peeves

I have a lot of them, but I feel the need to comment on a two that have been bugging me lately.

First, "could of" is always grammatically wrong. Always. It's actually a contraction of "could have" which ends up as "could've". When spoken, yes, it might sound like "could of" but please, please, please, don't write it that way! There are obviously a few exceptions, like in dialogue, because dialogue has a lot more flexibility with respect to grammar. People don't speak in proper English - not even close, so realistic dialogue most times shouldn't be grammatically proper. But generally, "could of" in a book will make me cringe.

Next, is the much maligned apostrophe. I like the apostrophe, and I could write REAMS of posts about how to use the apostrophe properly and the myriad ways people throw it around, willy-nilly. But there's the thing... an apostrophe's function is to represent missing letters (as in contractions... oh, say... could've or don't) or to indication possession (Sarah's car or Matt's house). Sometimes it's used more colloquially, like 'course instead of "of course". And I've seen and used it as 'em instead of "them". Because the apostrophe represents missing letters. But the most recent grievance I've seen was a variation of 'em. But it was typed out as em' - more than once. Please, for the sake of my sanity, don't do this!

Of course, I'm not perfect, but yeah, sometimes things will get me in a tizzy and now, these are the culprits! I'm getting ready to go on a cruise starting Monday, so this is my short & sweet grammar lesson for today :)

KC Burn

How Can Something So Good...Be So Bad?

Our heroes and heroines all have them: a weakness or fatal flaw. An Achilles heel. A failing in their character that takes an otherwise mighty character to their knees. With Achilles, it was literally his heel. (though he had some significant personality flaws as well.) With Oedipus, it was his pride. In my new book 'Toxic,' chocolate is the culprit. My heroine Briony Theale has an overwhelming love for chocolate. In fact, her weakness kicks off the major events in the story and nearly undoes her romance before it truly begins. Unfortunately, her hero Rico Montgomery also has a weakness: her beloved chocolate is a toxin to him. So when Rico's wolf comes across Briony's chocolate....yeah. Not good.

However, Briony is not a tragic heroine and all is well in the end. I promise.

There is often a temptation for an author to make a a lead character too perfect. I want to make my heroes the most wonderful, flawless characters ever to grace the pages of a book. They never lose their tempers, make a poor judgement call or lose a fight. During sex, they are always in perfect control, knowing what their partner wants. Heck, they probably never fart in bed either.

And heroines, well, I want to be my heroines. Seriously, I've never written a heroine without projecting myself into her life. Growing up, I wanted to be a vet. Like Briony, I have a real weakness for chocolate. Unlike Briony, one of my many flaws is a crippling weakness in math. I never had the chops for the hard science major it would have taken to be accepted into vet school.  Briony lives where I want to live, and she even looks like I wish I looked.

But you know, perfection is boring. Yes, Rico is a big, buff werewolf. He's her dominant, but he's many steps down the ladder from Chase, the Pack's alpha. He questions his journey in life; as a child he was removed from the Pack and grew up far away. As an adult, he's returned to find a new power structure and he's not sure where he fits. He's not completely comfortable as a wolf. And face it...the only reason he stumbles across her chocolate is because he dumped her trashcan. Yeesh.

Briony is self-confident and talented, but she's sure the extra weight she carries keeps her from standing a chance with Rico, even after he kisses her. She's not as competent as her mother or as brilliant as her brother. She's beautiful, but even misses that because she compares herself to others.

In Toxic, Briony and Rico share a weakness for chocolate. They both exhibit rather poor impulse control which creates the initial conflict that kicks off the story. If they'd been perfect people, none of the story would have happened. They'd have experienced a calm, dignified and very boring courtship that wouldn't have made for much of a story. Even the supporting characters have their fatal flaws...Chase is judgmental, Sage has a violent temper and Dionne is a bit too ready to go on the offensive. So while a character's strengths bring them up above the norm, often it's their flaws that throw them into conflict.

And that's when things get interesting.

Truckee Wolves: Toxic is related to Educating Evangeline and Hunting Holly from the Doms of Dark Haven anthologies. It was previously released elsewhere and has been greatly revised and expanded. 


Belinda is an award-winning author who writes in multiple genres...sometimes at the same time! She lives in far Northern California with her family and a motley pack of Siberian Huskies who provide her with unending sources of story ideas.

You can find Belinda's Loose Id books (including Toxic) here:
 http://www.loose-id.com/authors/a-f/belinda-mcbride.html

Please visit Belinda's webpage at: http://www.belindamcbride.com

Author Names and Avatars

Since I’ve only met a handful of other authors in person, and since a lot of people don’t like to post a photo of themselves on-line, there are many authors whose faces I’ve never seen and whose names I've never heard mentioned aloud. So when I see their names somewhere on-line or in an email, I get an immediate image in my head of their on-line “profile” picture. It might be a favorite image of an embracing couple, one of their book covers, or some other symbol they use to represent their on-line identity.

I even had a dream once where I met up with a few authors I know on-line and one of them was this giant picture of her book cover. She was just sitting there at the table, having a drink, chatting with us as a two-dimensional image that included the book title and her name.

I heard somewhere that we can’t dream the face of a person we’ve never seen. That our subconscious cannot create a human face on the fly. Not sure if that’s true or not, but it does have me wondering who all those people in my dreams are and why I’m casting them in starring roles if I can’t recall who they are.

I also found out recently I’d been pronouncing one of my on-line friend’s name all wrong. For almost three years. I even had to correct my sweetie since she learned the name from me. She’d never actually seen this person’s name in print, just heard me saying it. How was she supposed to know I’d mangled it all up?

This got me thinking… I could be pronouncing people’s names wrong all over the place when I’m recommending their books to friends who’ve never read in the gay romance genre. Uh-oh. Sorry about that guys!

Am I the only one?



Award-winning author Sloan Parker writes passionate, dramatic stories about two men (or more) falling in love. Sloan enjoys writing in the fictional world because in fiction you can be anything, do anything...even fall in love for the first time over and over again. She lives in Ohio with her partner and their neurotic cats where her greatest moments in life are spent with her family, her friends, and her characters. You can learn more about Sloan and her writing at www.sloanparker.com.

Silly Vocabulary

We sold our house on Thursday. On April 6, we’re moving from Orlando to Pasadena. I’m sure you’ll understand that I’m a wee bit scattered today (and likely will remain so for the next three weeks), but I’m desperately trying to not fall down on my obligations, so today’s post is about vocabulary. I can bitch about spelling, grammar and vocabulary just about any time, which made this post a quickie!

I have a little game on my phone called Beworded. A bunch of letter blocks fall onto the screen and you need to connect letters to make words. It’s a bit like Boggle solitaire.  

Most times when you get a word, it will tell you if it’s a noun or verb. In my opinion, it’s a mostly worthless “additional feature”. Occasionally it will see fit to define the word, which is sometimes interesting, but also mostly worthless.  Here are some of the fabulous definitions I’ve got recently:

Rosin - to treat with rosin

Seat - to place a seat

Creel - to put fish in a creel

Tone – to give a particular tone

Are you noticing a pattern? Didn’t anyone ever tell these people that you can’t define a word by using the word?!? Worthless. Then I got this one:

Cat - to hoist an anchor to the cathead

This one is slightly better, although only by a tiny fraction. Why, you say? Because now I know there’s some piece of a boat called a cathead. This is new information for me. However, I’m guessing that someone who knows what a cathead actually is may already be familiar with this particular definition of cat as a verb, and then we’re back to WORTHLESS definitions. If only I could turn off this “extra feature”. I’d rather they just showed ads in that spot, I think…

 KC Burn

Three-Word Scenario: Partners (an M/M scene)

Today I thought I’d share another one of my three-word scenarios. This is where I take three random words and write whatever scenario comes to mind, using each word at least once.

I’ve decided to skip trying to keep the scenarios to a certain word count and instead go with whatever comes to mind and however long it takes to get the entire idea down. It might end up as a snippet that could become a longer story. Or it might be a character or setting description. Anything that pops into my head when I mesh the three random words together.

Last time Lisabet Sarai suggested these words: retro, parking, and mattress. Thanks, Lisabet!

Here’s my three-word scenario:

Partners

Sawyer drew in a long breath and leaned back on his elbows. His T-shirt lay crumpled in a ball beside him on the mattress, and his jeans were open at the front. He didn’t bother to zip them up. In a few minutes he and Finn would get back to where they’d been headed.

Who the hell got half naked, kissed like they’d been doing five minutes ago, and then stopped before they got to the fucking? Something was seriously messed up between them.

Finn stood across the room, his back to the wall, his arms folded across his bare chest. He sported a scowl that said everything Sawyer didn’t want to hear.

Or maybe he did. Maybe they needed to have this conversation. Get everything out in the open. Finally.

They hadn’t slept together in weeks. Every night after work, they hung out at Sawyer’s apartment, watching one of those ’70s cops shows, not talking, not even laughing at the stupid-ass crooks or the retro hairstyles they usually mocked all through the show.

Sawyer threw Finn a smirk, knowing that alone would piss him off. “You’re mad at me.”

Finn kept his hard gaze locked on Sawyer’s chest. “I’m not mad.”

“Fuck that. You’ve been mad at me since that day in the parking garage. Like it was my fault.”

“You got shot.”

“I didn’t ask the guy to shoot me.”

Finn made eye contact for the first time since the kissing ended. “You might as well have. You went at him like you had no training at all.”

Sawyer sat up with a jolt. “Are you calling me a shitty cop?

“No. I’m calling you a reckless one.”

“I know you don’t mean that.” Slowly, like he might spook Finn if he moved too fast, Sawyer got off the bed and went to stand in front of him. “Just like I knew in that garage you’d have my back. Like always.”

Finn met his gaze again and grunted out a laugh. He didn’t let up on the tense posture, though.

Sawyer grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him forward until they were eye to eye, their foreheads almost touching. “Just admit it. You’re pissed about the shooting because it freaked you out like nothing else on the job ever has. And it freaked you out because you’re in love with me.” He drew him forward until they were back to the kissing, this time their mouths and tongues and bodies coming together slowly, tenderly.

When they finally parted, Finn leaned against the wall again, the tension in his body long gone. “God, you’re infuriating.” He smiled with a softness Sawyer had never seen before.

“And you’re right,” Finn added. “About everything. So don’t ever get your ass shot again.”

Sawyer gripped him by the waistband of his jeans and tugged until Finn was in his arms again. “Deal.”


Award-winning author Sloan Parker writes passionate, dramatic stories about two men (or more) falling in love. Sloan enjoys writing in the fictional world because in fiction you can be anything, do anything...even fall in love for the first time over and over again. She lives in Ohio with her partner and their neurotic cats where her greatest moments in life are spent with her family, her friends, and her characters. You can learn more about Sloan and her writing at www.sloanparker.com.

Celebrate a Belated Mardi Gras and the Release of Laisser le Rouleau du Bon Dom...

...with a slice of king cake!

Mardi Gras came early this year, the twelfth of February, but we can still celebrate with this week's release of my book, Laisser le Rouleau du Bon Dom, my contemporary BDSM, Mardi-Gras-themed novella.

Many people over the years have asked me why I chose New Orleans as my home. I grew up in a small town on the Central Coast of California. We had a university there with many professors from New Orleans.  In the late seventies, they--with the help of many locals looking for an excuse to party and satirize a little--started Mardi Gras in San Luis Obispo, California.

I grew up attending that Mardi Gras every year, and most years I was in the parade. Even as a small child, I rode on floats, walked and threw beads, or even roller-skated.

After some nearly-notorious riots one year around the university, the event was cancelled, but those who had organized and developed Mardi Gras, California style, had already instilled in me a love for the culture, revelry, and food of New Orleans. That was why, in 2001, I bought a house on the Internet and moved here.

I always try in my books to show my love for this city. I attempt to go beyond the facade of Bourbon Street and travel into the neighborhoods and meet the local characters that make this city so wonderful. I hope I've done it again in Laisser le Rouleau du Bon Dom.

Available at All Romance ebooks and Amazon:

To celebrate the release, I'm running a contest! The prize is a king cake from Haydel's bakery, a local tradition, shipped right to the winner's home. This is open to US residents only, please. a Rafflecopter giveaway

So tell me, what do you love about Mardi Gras or New Orleans? Any questions you've been dying to ask someone from here?

A Great Time - Olde City, New Blood

I had the pleasure of attending Olde City, New Blood this past weekend, as a featured author.

OCNB was a weekend mini-con in St. Augustine, Florida, focused on urban fantasy and paranormal romance. Readers and authors rubbed elbows all weekend, and it was a great time. This was the first year of its existence, but from everyone I talked to, it was a resounding success, so I’m hopeful it will become an annual event. If it does, I can surely recommend it.

Aside from the fact I got to hang out with friends and meet some enthusiastic readers, I also got to meet and chat with authors I greatly admire like Amy Lane, Mary Calmes, Damon Suede, TC Blue, Poppy Dennison, Lori Toland and the always fabulous Kiernan Kelly. 

Before you start wondering if this was a m/m conference… Nope. We only made up a small portion of the authors there. A number of other UF/PNR authors were in attendance – too many to list here, but I had the pleasure of speaking on panels with Laura Kaye, Hildie McQueen, Elisabeth Naughton, Lexi George, Cynthia Eden and many more. In fact, that was one of the best things about this con.

The panels consisted of a range of authors: New York Times bestsellers, small published, e-published, m/m, YA – the whole gamut, and I felt the m/m contingent was incorporated seamlessly and equally. The panels I spoke on included: the growing popularity of m/m, world building, paranormal characters beyond vampires and werewolves, and sweet vs. spicy romance. It was exciting to be able to answer questions from a m/m romance perspective, and have those answers contrast or complement the answers from authors who are considered more main stream.

I can only hope I held my own, but I know Damon and Amy (who are both waaaay more eloquent than I am) did wonders to increase converts to m/m romance. One of the best panels included both Amy and Damon, and was essentially Fiction Improv. The panelists were given some very basic information about plot and genre randomly contributed by the audience, and they had to make up a story on the spot – a few sentences apiece from each author before the next author would pick up and add their own spin. It was clever and hilarious.  I just wish I could recall everyone who was on the panel, because they were incredible. Let me just say this… platypus-shifter infestation in space. That's a book waiting to happen!

For my own personal pimpage… I took my super purple abs everywhere! Partly because my Loose Id books are my paranormal ones, and partly because who wouldn’t want those lovely purple abs anywhere and everywhere?

All in all, it was a fun weekend, an excellent con, and hopefully a few more readers were made aware of the many different fiction options available to them.

KC Burn

On Writing: The Essence and Passion of a Story

Last year Pixar storyboard artist Emma Coats tweeted 22 rules of storytelling. Now that I’m knee-deep into a first draft again (writing the sequel to my m/m/m menage MORE), I keep going back to some of those tips she mentioned when it comes to the basics of storytelling.

Two of my favorites are:
 

“Why must you tell THIS story? What's the belief burning within you that your story feeds off of? That's the heart of it.” -- Emma Coats

“What's the essence of your story? Most economical telling of it? If you know that, you can build out from there.” -- Emma Coats

 

I think these go hand in hand when writing a first draft. I have to know the basics of what I’m trying to say and I have to be driven to share that story. I believe if the author lacks a passion for writing any particular story, the readers can tell.

When first starting a novel-length book, if I don’t have a firm grasp on the core concept of the story as well as the passion to tell that story, I stumble my way through the first draft, going back over the plot outline and who the characters are at their core until I land on the truth of what I’m trying to say.

Some questions I ask myself:

- Who are these men? What do they believe about love? What goals do they have in life? What are their biggest dreams? What are their biggest fears? All of these can help drive the plot.

- What are the basics of the plot in one sentence? One paragraph?

- What is the ending of the story? What happens just before the ending? How are the characters emotionally impacted by the conclusion of the plot?

- What in my own life (what experiences, dreams, hopes, imaginations) is influencing me to write this story?

- What is it about my own beliefs and passions about living life that stirs me to write this story about these characters?

For me the journey of discovering all this is what makes storytelling such a powerful, enjoyable experience. It may stretch out the process of writing that initial draft, but I think my stories would not be the same (and neither would I) without it.

You can read the full list of Coats’s tweets here:
The 22 rules of storytelling, according to Pixar
 


Award-winning author Sloan Parker writes passionate, dramatic stories about two men (or more) falling in love. Sloan enjoys writing in the fictional world because in fiction you can be anything, do anything...even fall in love for the first time over and over again. She lives in Ohio with her partner and their neurotic cats where her greatest moments in life are spent with her family, her friends, and her characters. You can learn more about Sloan and her writing at www.sloanparker.com.