Chris Colfer, Countertenor, and Unique Maleness

I just saw this episode of Glee last night and once again Chris Colfer blew me away. He possesses what is called a countertenor voice --a male voice that is equivalent to a contralto, mezzo-soprano, or (rarely) soprano. It seems to me he is one of those rare sopranos. My husband watched this with me and said it was interesting that Colfer's voice, while high, is somehow also distinctly masculine. I heard Chris say in an interview that no one would take his voice seriously as a kid because they said it would change. He said it did change--just not very much.

Colfer as Kurt Hummel on Glee is as "effeminate" as a man can be without donning women's clothes and yet he still embodies a unique maleness. I think this is the quality that all writers of gay fiction, male and female, attempt to capture. It's easier to just make our gay heroes alpha males who love men which, i submit, is as big a cop out as chicks with dicks. Gay men are unique and capturing that specialness is both a challenge and a pleasure. Sing it again, Chris.  : )

What I Learned About Hot Romance from Jet Mykles!

Hi everyone--

Today, my friend Jet Mykles released her fourth book in the Leashed Series called Tangled Leashes. This is one of my favorite series from one of my favorite writers--the woman who turned me on to the joys of writing MM. Surprisingly, the Leashed series is a MMF menage and paranormal too. Shifters and witches, baby. You can find the book at Loose Id.  

A little over a year ago, when i had my first book, Genetic Attraction, published by Loose Id, i wrote a variation of this blog post and Jet was kind enough to post it on her site. Then i posted this variation on Fiction With Friction. In honor of the new release of Leashed 4, i want to post it again here --

For years, people told me I should write a book, but I couldn’t imagine what I wanted to write about. Then I started reading Jet Mykles, and less than three years later, I’m a published author with nine published novels and the tenth, Beach Balls, to be released on May 4th from Etopia Press and another new book coming in July. Reading Jet’s books was better than all the fiction-writing classes (although I did those too), because through Jet I discovered my passion for passion. For the first time, I found something so fun and exciting it would write itself (hmmm. Not quite that easy but certainly a lot of FUN). (Jet can now put “muse” on her resume.)

Here’s what Jet taught me:

• ·         It’s impossible for heroes to be too beautiful – Don’t tell me my heroes Roan Black in The Scientist and the Supermodel or Hunter Fallon in Fire Balls couldn’t exist in real life. Erotic romance fiction isn’t real life. The likes of Johnny in Heaven and Shasertai in Sursein Judgement are compelling to me and lots of other readers.
• ·         Characters benefit from being a little (or a lot) over the top – Many writers concentrate on “real people”, but I find I best remember the ones that stand out from the crowd. Have you ever met anyone quite like Jet’s Hell? My artist hero in Fire Balls is flamboyant and wild and a black belt in karate. My kind of guy.
• ·         It’s possible to write great conflict without unspeakable angst – When conflict gets too intense in books, I often feel like closing the cover and walking away. (I avoid the Russian authors and love Jane Austen) Jet makes her readers wonder how the characters will ever get out of their mess – while being totally confident that it will happen.
• ·         Relationships between people are diverse, wondrous and mysterious -- Jet’s books avoid labels and categories. She has straight men falling in love with other men, gay men falling in love with women, all  with a minimum of chest-pounding. Is this real life? Who cares? It’s great fiction. I’ve tried to carry on some of this tradition in my books too.
• ·         Once your characters grab ahold of you, they don’t let go – Jet’s book are almost always part of series. I never intended it, but I’ve published nine books as of now and seven of them are part of series. My book, Spell Cat, is the first in The Aloysius Tales, Beach Balls will be the third book in the Balls to the Wall series, and Sinders and Ash could also become the first book in a contemporary fairy tale romance series. Jet just has to tell me how to find time to write them all!

The bottom line is -- thank you, Jet. You have always been generous with your help, and, above all, a huge inspiration to many writers like me. I’ve learned great lessons from your fiction and, hopefully, have put it to work in my books. Oh yes, I forgot to mention. We both love Adam Lambert. 

Beach Balls, as i mentioned, is coming May 4th. Watch for the blog tour starting soon. Check in at Beautiful Boys Books for all the details. Meanwhile, you can join my enewsletter and get updates on blog tours, hops and contests, just by joining at the top of the right hand column. Plus, i love blog followers! Thank you for stopping by.  : )

Andrej Pejic about gender and chickens

Hi everyone--

You know my love of this amazing young man--the ultimate in androgyny. And now i am studying him more closely because i am writing an androgynous male model character in my new WIP, Genetic Celebrity, which should come out in July. Enjoy Andrej.  :  )

Literary Inspirations for HOT Romance

Hi everyone--

I thought I’d talk about using an older literary work as some inspiration for a new romance novel. I got to talk about this at Romance Lives Forever recently and i want to reprise the topic here. I’ve used literary inspirations  twice so far. The first time was for my LGBT beach romance, Fire Balls. I knew I wanted it to be a romance between a flamboyant artist and a more conservative firefighter. That was a fun premise but I wanted more complexity. I knew my artist was tiny and it occurred to me that maybe he didn’t think of himself as the type to appeal to the firefighter who he loves. What flashed into my mind was the classic story of Cyrano de Bergerac who has the big nose and helps his friend Christian woo the woman whom Cyrano loves. That gave me a wonderful twist to my story as I made my artist help his friend the surfer hook up with the firefighter. Plus, since Cyrano was a great swordsman, I made my artist a black belt in karate. Presto. Just enough patterning but not so much it was a take-off or satire.

Now, I’m doing it again. We all love Cinderella romances! And most authors have thought of writing a book based on Cinderella. I wanted to do something a little different. Far from a satire, I wanted to write a serious, contemporary LGBT romance based on the pattern of the Cinderella story. The result is my new release, Sinders and Ash. A poor young man, Mark Sintorella, who wants to be a fashion designer, earns money working in the housekeeping department of a luxury resort in upstate New York. There he meets a wild little man who convinces him to dress like a woman in order to show off his designs to some guest fashionistas. And Mark falls in love with the son of the fifth richest family in America--Ashton Armitage--who has to marry in order to receive his inheritance. Writing the book was terrifically fun because I got to ask the question, “What if Cinderella was real?” I got to imagine how the story might play out in today’s world.  As you read the book you’ll see that the story stands alone but at the same time it’s kind of fun to notice the parallels to the Cinderella tale. 

A lot of people are enjoying this book and i think i may use a fairy tale trope for another book in the series. What do you think? Do you have any books that use other stories as inspirations?  Share. 

Please notice, also, that i added a link on the sidebar to my Read the Beautiful Boys of Romance Newsletter. If you aren't on my mail list yet, please sign up. The newsletter is short, informal and has lots of chances to win prizes and such. I also love blog followers! :  ) 

Get Horny with Kay Berrisford and BOUND to the BEAST. A Copy for You!

Hi everyone--

My friend Kay Berriford has come back with a delicious new book. It's called Bound to the Beast and it is the second book in her Greenwood series which includes the wildly popular Bound for the Forest. This one has such a delicious premise. You're going to love it! And if you comment you could win it. So be sure to comment WITH YOUR EMAIL! Take it away, Kay.

Unleashing ‘The Horned One’

Man-beasts (and woman-beasts) are hot stuff right now.  Who can resist shifters and the lure of a hot werewolf?  I can’t, for sure, and I’m quite partial to sexy Viking warriors and their menacing horned helmets to boot. So when a friend suggested I write a novel about Herne the Hunter, a brooding hero of the English Greenwood who sports the antlers of the stag, I seized the opportunity by the horns.

Herne the Hunter is a spirit of the English forest and a protector of the fair folk, although he also has a dark side. He is often portrayed as the leader of the Wild Hunt, an army of the undead (medieval zombies, if you like) who were believed to sweep across England on the eve of great disasters, such as the Norman Conquest and the Plague. But, let’s face it—it’s those antlers that get to us. What the heck are they all about?

Power, fertility, violence, rebirth, and sexuality. That’s what. They’re not subtle, and that’s why people have been imbuing horns and antlers with mystical powers and meanings since the Stone Age. Historians have linked Herne to Cernunnos, the Celtic horned god, and Herne has been variously depicted as a stag shifter, a man with a horned helmet or headdress, or as a man-beast who bears his mighty horns upon his human head. A none-too-subtle display of masculinity, indeed.

In Bound to the Beast, I had immense fun recreating Herne as an immortal spirit who shifts to display the antlers of a stag when his passions are stirred. Once the leader of a Celtic tribe, my Herne was gifted his crown of antlers by the Mother Goddess after sacrificing his human life for his people. He been roaming the Greenwood for over fifteen hundred years, till in 1588, he faces his greatest dilemma. The ships of the Spanish Armada are circling English shores, and invasion is threatened once more. Will he lead the Wild Hunt again, letting England fall in his wake? Or will Herne let somebody heal his fifteen-hundred-year-old broken heart, and learn to love instead?

More pertinently, will his prospective lover, Tam, run a mile as the sight of the thrusting antlers Herne sprouts every time he gets a hard-on?  What do you think!

Thank you so much Tara for letting me blog here today.
Bound to the Beast (A Greenwood novel) by Kay Berrisford. Published by Loose Id. Art work by Anne Cain.
Genres: m/m, paranormal, fantasy, BDSM, historical. Novel, 68,000 words.

Blurb: England, 1588. When a fairy betrothal ritual goes wrong, village lad Tam is bonded to Herne the Hunter. Warrior, legend, and Greenwood spirit, Herne once led the terrifying Wild Hunt, an army of the undead who rode as harbingers of doom. When his passions are stirred and his blood is up, Herne sports the antlers of a mighty stag.

Herne could be the lover Tam secretly craves, but Herne’s past makes him fear the brooding warrior will enslave or kill him. While Herne admires Tam’s toughness and humor, he has rejected love—as he has sworn off leading the Wild Hunt—and wishes only for solitude. To break their betrothal, they must travel into the Greenwood, a realm of magic and bondage where their desires for each other grow dangerously irresistible, and the Wild Hunt bays for their blood.

As the threat rises, Herne’s mastery and compassion realize Tam’s darkest sexual fantasies. Soon he’s no longer fighting for his freedom, wishing to be bound to this beast forever. But can Herne’s tortured heart be reawakened? And if so, will their love destroy them both, or prove Herne the Hunter’s greatest weapon?

Excerpt:

A roar shattered through the clearing, obliterating Tam’s final words and setting the green fire spurring. A dark figure of a man—no, surely this being was too large to be a man—reared through the flames, picked up Calleagh as if she weighed no more than a kitten, and tossed her from the circle. Then he rounded on Tam.

Moonshine glimmered on the newcomer’s bold features that contorted with fury, his square jaw shadowed with beard. Tam had felt tall amid the fairy company, but this goliath had him edging backward, feeling small.

And naked.

Tam grabbed at his sagging breeches, tightening the laces before they descended about his ankles. The newcomer’s gaze impaled him, making him shudder as if he’d been stripped entirely. The great man’s brow was broad, and from his wild mane surged a pair of enormous antlers split into many twisting branches, each flashing like ivory blades. Tam’s passions raced, his every sinew stiffening where just moments ago he had labored halfheartedly beneath Calleagh’s touch, and terror crippled him.

He knew this beast.

He may never have seen him before in his waking life, but Tam faced a legend among Greenwood spirits, one who could truly make him suffer for his mistake.

“Herne the Hunter?”

Herne narrowed his midnight-blue eyes, fury smoldering, and thrill vied with Tam’s dread.

Herne’s thighs were as solid as the oaks framing the dell, while the laces fastening his sleeveless surcoat drew tight to contain the mass of his shoulders and chest. Tam urged his feet to carry him away, even if the ring of fire scalded him, but too late. Herne grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him so hard his head ached.

“Are you the reason I have been called? Did you trick her into wedding you?”

“I take nobody against their will,” shouted Tam, doing his best to sound brave. He stared awestruck at the man’s antlers. “You…you had no right to interrupt us. You do not understand.”

Herne leaned over him, sniffing his hair like a cat would a rat to determine whether it was fit to eat. “Honey and spice. You reek of vanity, boy. Stealing a fairy maid from her family is the cruelest act of all.”

“I didn’t steal anyone. She wanted me.”

Tam wriggled but couldn’t break free. Herne clamped his wrists, holding them fast. Nausea rolled though Tam. Was this part of a trap laid by Calleagh and her sisters? Before God, he’d heard enough of the wiles of fairy folk, and Herne possessed the strength to rip his limbs off and see his blood drain for the foul spirits of Niogaerst. Or would Herne impale him on those frightful antlers? Maybe that had been Calleagh’s true sport all along.

Desperation cracked his voice. “I’m the one who’s been tricked. Yes, that’s it, tricked! Please. Let me go, sir.”

Herne tilted his head, confusion passing over his hard features. “Do I…know you?”

The relentless emerald flames pressed them closer, Herne’s tightening grip prompting so many fuddling sensations that words failed him. His mind demanded he kick the beast in his balls and make a run for it, but once again his body refused to obey. He stared up at Herne’s smoldering eyes, his skin weather-beaten and browned yet marked only by the finest of lines.

A further revelation struck.

Now I understand the true meaning of beauty.

Herne growled, pulled Tam to him so their bodies pressed flush, and smoothed his thumb along the line of Tam’s cheekbone. Tam flinched as if he’d been branded with an iron, yet the contact sent blood coursing through his veins and rushing straight to his loins.

When Herne’s mouth claimed his, Tam yearned to be dominated, to be consumed in his flames like a helpless moth. He parted his lips, letting Herne devour him, balling his fists into the leather of Herne’s surcoat to urge him on, and relishing the scrape of Herne’s coarse beard against his chin. Herne tasted of herbs and the verdant depths of the forest. Amid the rage of life, Tam sensed also the stillness of rock, the brute strength of ages, and savage, tearing pain.

He kissed back, his tongue slick against Herne’s, letting the passion of their union quash the remnants of his alarm. If this was the means by which Herne punished him, then he would not resist a jot. He did not even care if the man kissing him bore the antlers of a stag or the cleaved hooves of the devil. Not when Herne cupped Tam’s arse with his massive hands, dug in his fingers, and squeezed so hard his flesh sang. Tam’s arousal jutted against Herne’s thigh, and—oh sweet spirits—Herne’s huge cock pressed into Tam’s tight belly, setting him awhirl with desire.

Herne tore his lips away from Tam’s as quickly as he had claimed them. Tam gazed up into his dark blue eyes, reading boundless suffering, insatiable yearning—and a glimmer of reflected gray light, too dull to be moon or enchanted flame. Indeed, both moon and flame had fallen away. The first light of morning crept from the easterly edges of the dell.

Herne relinquished Tam from his embrace. Still trembling in the aftermath of the kiss, Tam stumbled back, but not far. The green ribbon that he’d tied about his wrist now entwined Herne’s too, binding them together, and it stopped him short.

He stared anew at Herne the Hunter, who appeared equally perplexed by the ribbon pulled taut between them. He looked at Herne’s huge, ragged antlers. His awareness of everything that had happened prior to their kiss trickled back, and a sickening realization overthrew his desire. The question escaped his lips before he comprehended its full horror.

“You kissed me and bound me to you in the circle of fire before dawn. Does that not make you and I…betrothed?”

Buy it now link: http://www.loose-id.com/The-Greenwood-Bound-to-the-Beast.aspx

Kay’s blog: http://www.kayberrisford.com

Kay on amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/Kay-Berrisford/e/B006JLQ4L8/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Kay on All Romance: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Kay+Berrisford

Kay at Sony e-book store: http://ebookstore.sony.com/author/kay-berrisford_263537

Kay at Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/kay-berrisford

Kay at Fictionwise:  http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/a67995/Kay-Berisford/?

Okay, i think everybody wants this book! Leave a comment with your email. And i love blog followers if you haven't done that yet!  Thank you for visiting. : )

Meet the Witch Master! Interview with Killian Barth of Spell Cat.

Hi everyone-- Since i am away at RT, i'm turning my blog over to Dr. Killian Barth who i interviewed awhile back. Here is what he had to say:

Interview with Killian Barth, Witch Master

Hi everyone. Today I’m both excited and a little nervous to be interviewing Dr. Killian Barth. Dr. Barth is a historian and professor of history. He is also the Witch Master, the most powerful male witch in 10 generations.

Tara: Hello, Dr. Barth. It’s wonderful to see you again.

KB:  Please, call me Killian.

Tara: (Points to black cat wrapped around Killian’s neck) Who’s your friend?

KB: Ah, this is Aloysius, my familiar. We are inseparable. At his insistence.

Tara: What does a familiar do?

KB: As the old joke goes, anything he wants. But in particular, he magnifies power. If I cast a spell and pet Aloysius, or even if he is just present, the spell will become stronger.

Tara: That must be very strong since you’re the most powerful witch in 10 generations.

KB: Shrugs. Well, witchery has been declining in power so I’m not such a big deal.

Tara: I’m sorry to hear that. Can you tell us why?

KB: We are taught that our power is in decline because of interbreeding with humans. Those devils are so attractive we can’t seem to resist them. Then they deplete our power until we have none. (He sighs)

Tara: How are you going to save the race of witches?

KB: I have to marry the most powerful female witch of our generation and produce offspring. (He shudders.)

Tara: You don’t seem too thrilled with the idea.

KB. Don’t misunderstand. She is a lovely witch. But I am homosexual and do not appreciate the sexual attraction of females.

Tara: Why don’t you just artificially inseminate?

KB: Sadly, the sperm of witches cannot live outside our bodies.

Tara: You are in a fix. What are you going to do?

KB: My duty I suppose. But I would have liked to experience love once in my lifetime.

Tara: How does the female witch feel about it?

KB: Her situation is even sadder. She is in love with someone else. But he is human!

Tara: Oh dear, that’s awful. And you’ve never been in love?

KB: No. Being the Witch Master means other males are either afraid of me or want to use me. Plus, I have to confess this terrible thing. There is this human physics professor who just came to our college. I have never met anyone like him. I know I have to stay away from him but…he is so irresistible. Worst of all, Aloysius loves him and keeps rubbing and purring all over him. It’s disgusting. I wish I could do it.

Tara: And this human could deplete you! It sounds like you’re in a lot of trouble.

KB: Yes, I’m thinking I have to cast a love spell to attract a male witch who can get me to stop thinking about this human.

Tara: Wow. Are you sure that’s a good idea?

KB: No. But I must do something!

Tara: Good luck. You have quite a story.

KB: Yes, I think it would make a good book.

Tara: I’ll see what I can do.

Ah, most enjoyable visit. I'll be back next week with a complete report on my RT experience. Thanks so much for visiting the blog.  :  )

Cover Love! Call Me Lucky!

Hi everyone--

Can you tell a book by its cover? Probably not, but you sure can buy a book because of its cover. The amazing cover by PL Nunn of my friend Belinda McBride’s book, An Uncommon Whore, combined with the terrific title made the book irresistible. Fortunately, it’s a great book so I was not at all disappointed after succumbing to the cover. I happen to love illustrated covers and the subtle cover art for Ariel Tachna’s The Inventor’s Companion haunted me until I bought the book. Another good choice. But I have seen books that were not served well by their covers, haven’t you? One of my favorite author’s very best books has a cover that kept me from reading the book for years. When I finally did read it, I was horrified that it had taken me so long.

I have been amazingly blessed with great covers in my short career. My very first cover for Genetic Attraction by Valerie Tibbs (who also did the wonderful covers for The Scientist and the Supermodel and Deceptive Attraction) was so magical and sensuous I was immediately convinced of the power of covers. My recent release, Fire Ball,s features a character looking at the reader with such attitude, it perfectly captures the spirit of the book. I know it helped make this book a bestseller. The same with Volley Balls. People drool when they see those three gorgeous guys. And the new Sinders and Ash cover by Trace Edward Zaber features two guys who are so drool-worthy you just want to keep looking.

And that brings me to Spell Cat. The entire Internet has been buzzing over this beautiful cover. In my blog tour I was giving away gift cards but what did people want the most? The Spell Cat poster! The cover is created by Shobana Appavu and it captures the book down to the smallest detail--like the ring he holds in his fingers. 

I am a very lucky writer. What are your favorite covers?

Thank you so much for visiting the blog. I love blog followers!  : )

I'm a Sunshine Award Winner! Wow. Some Facts About Me. : )

Hiii everyone--

Thanks to all of you who participated in my two giant hops! The winners are posted at the bottom of the comment string so be sure and check it out.

Now, i am delighted to say that i am the recipient of a Sunshine Award compliments of my online pal, Sharon Buchbinder. Thank you, Sharon. The rules are i have to tell you ten things about me and then tag 10 more people to do the same. Since i'm headed to RT in Chicago with lots of other friends, it may take a little while before they get to respond. But here goes. Ten things about moi:

1. Tara is my real, forever name but it is not the usual Irish name pronounced Terra. It is TAH-ra like tar on the roof. And it comes from a Sanskrit word that means star. Tara is a major goddess in both the Hindu and Buddhist traditions. She's quite a gal
2. My first two books were called Peter Pit Snake and Cindy Hidonosquare. They were about a snake and a dog respectively, i did my own illustrations, and i was five.
3. I have been married 30 years to a man i adore! He is my romance hero.
4. No matter what my books start out to be about, they all end up with a theme of authenticity and living an authentic life.
5. I have a papillon dog named Jolie. I never planned to have a dog but she had other plans. LOL. I adore her.
6. I have traveled all over the world and even lived outside the US a couple times.
7. I still think Paris is about as beautiful as a city gets but i do adore London.
8. I have six planets in Libra which means i am slow to anger but will pounce all over injustice.
9. I am a plotser. I create a general story idea and characters and then let them go and tell me about themselves. I adore that moment when i go, "Son of a gun, i didn't know she was Chinese."  LOL
10. I love movies especially comedies about sports even though i don't love sports. The old movie, Bull Durham, is one of the best films ever made IMO. It is a "Major League Love Story in a Minor League Town."

This is so much fun i could go on and on. But i will now pass the baton of the Sunshine Award to:

Cassandra Carr  My workshop buddy at RT.

Belinda McBride  Her head and her great books are in the clouds

ZA Maxfield   One of my mentors! Gay romance at its finest.

Michael Mandrake  Three of my favorite people

Allie Ritch  A pal who puts the alien in sex

Kay Berrisford  She makes the forests of England a VERY sexy place

Jessica Freely  She put the frisk in the biskit!

Karenna Colcroft  The mind behind the vegetarian werewolf

Carrie Ann Ryan  The mistress of blog hoppery and great books too.

Jianne Carlo  Putting alpha males to good use!

Okay, that's it.  Thank you all so much for visiting the blog. My new releases Spell Cat and Sinders and Ash are available on Amazon, ARe and at my publishers so feel free to grab them.  Have a great day!

It's a Hopper! Happy Easter Event with Great Stuff for You

 Hi everyone--  Welcome to the Hoppy Easter Blog Hop!  


My name is Tara Lain and i write the Beautiful Boys of Romance. Erotic romance mostly MM and menage. If you haven't read in my genres before, there is an excerpt from my new release, Sinders and Ash, for you below. It's a fairy tale romance.

This Hop lasts through Easter! Here on my blog, you can win:

• a $10 Amazon GC
• A copy of Spell Cat, my bestselling LGBT paranormal  romance

What do you have to do?

• leave a comment 
• leave your EMAIL
• Follow this blog if you don't already
• If you DON"T want to be on my email list just say NO in your comment
• If you feel like it, Like me on Facebook (not required to win)
• If you are a fan, please fan me on Goodreads (not required to win)
• If you want to enter to win another $10 GC, go over to Beautiful Boys Books and leave a comment with your email in that blog tour contest

And how do you get to all the many, many authors in this HOP? Click here:

1.     http://thebloghopspot.com/event-page/ 

Here is an excerpt from Sinders and Ash, my new contemporary, magical MM romance

Excerpt: Sinders and Ash by Tara Lain; MM Contemporary Fantasy

Amber Allure

Work hard, stay anonymous and don’t expect much. That’s resort housekeeper Mark Sintorella’s philosophy of life. After being kicked out of his family home at sixteen for being gay, Mark knows what it takes to survive. But how is he going to stay anonymous when he wants to be recognized as a great fashion designer? And how can he control his expectations when he’s desperately attracted to Ashton Armitage, the son of the fifth richest man in America? If Ash doesn’t find a woman to marry he’s going to lose his inheritance, but he can’t seem to resist the beautiful kid who cleans fireplaces while hiding behind a black cap and heavy glasses. And then this crazy elf of a man, Carstairs Pennymaker, has Mark running around looking like a fashion model wearing gorgeous women’s clothes. The clock strikes twelve and the wedding follows the ball. Two beautiful princesses line up for attention. But one isn’t interested and one isn’t a woman. Who will be the bride? Will the shoe fit? Only his fairy godmother knows for sure.

Mark held onto the edge of the counter for a second. Breathe, you idiot. What about seeing Aston Armitage had he thought was going to be a good thing? This was torture. Those women were pretty. Which one was he going to marry? The blonde who came to talk to Armitage seemed to work for him, not like a new girlfriend. It must be Bitsy. He sighed. At least she was nice, the lucky duck. And Mrs. Fanderel would be ecstatic. Why in hell did the idea make him nauseous?

Okay, salads. Get this dinner served and get the fuck out of here. He arranged hearts of palm and avocado on Bibb lettuce and sprinkled on some pine nuts, then added a few dried cranberries for color and a drizzle of vinaigrette. He pulled the forks he’d set to chill from the refrigerator, placed it all on a tray and pushed through the swinging door with his shoulder. Heart pause. Bitsy and Armitage were already at the table.

Mark took a deep breath and plastered on a pleasant expression. “Your salads.” He placed Bitsy’s salad plate onto her serving charger he had set earlier. He was careful to serve from her left side and positioned the fork above her plate.

Okay, Armitage next.

Mark crossed around the table. Oh God, the man smelled so good. Focus, Mark. He put the salad plate into position with only the slightest clank. He hoped Armitage didn’t see his hands shaking. “Enjoy.”

The damned rich kid smiled at him, all flashing white teeth and dimples so huge you could sharpen a pencil in them. “These look delicious.”

Mark ducked his head a little and escaped through the swinging door. He knew delicious when he saw it and it had nothing to do with salad.

From inside the kitchen, he heard Armitage’s melodious voice say softly, “Ronnie must’ve been right about his being new. He seems nervous. Did a good job so far, though.”

Mark’s heart beat too fast. Thank God. If he could just survive the rest of the courses.

Bitsy’s soprano added, “Bless his heart, he works really hard in housekeeping.. He cleans the fireplaces a lot, so everyone calls him Sinders, which is kind of mean. Sadly, I don’t actually know his real name.”

Quiet. Must be chewing.

Bitsy piped up. “Don’t you think he’s a pretty boy, though?”

Oh crap. He held his breath. What answer did he want? He should want Armitage to say no he hadn’t noticed such a thing, but…

“Yeah, I was thinking that earlier. He’s as pretty as a girl under those glasses.”

Shit, shit, shit. He didn’t want Armitage to notice him, did he? Oh God, he just wanted to be anonymous and get the job done and make his money and… Oh Jesus, his cock was a steel rod. Just the thought that the damned billionaire’s son thought he was pretty did it for him to the max.

Bitsy wouldn’t leave it alone. “He’s prettier than most girls.” Quiet. “My mother hates it when I say that.”

“Oh, why?”

Mark couldn’t believe they were still talking about him.

“Because he’s a little strange with that cap and all, and he’s gay and Mother doesn’t like to think there’s anything good about a person like that.”

That got rid of his hard-on.

More quiet. “Uh, your mother doesn’t like gay men?”

“Are you kidding? I think she would’ve joined the Tea Party if it wasn’t so damned blue collar and trailer park.” Pause. “Of course, there’s a trailer or two in some recent generations of my family.” She laughed, and Armitage joined in.

“I gather you don’t agree with her?”

“About Sinders?”

“That and being gay, uh, and such.”

She laughed again. “My mother and I can barely agree on whether the sun is shining.” Pause. “And I have nothing against being gay. Nothing at all.”

Maybe they were done with their salads and he could get them to change this fucking conversation. He ladled some tomato bisque into two porcelain bowls, put them on the tray and added the spoons and condiments and set the whole thing on the counter.

Why did that soup make him think of licking it out of Ash’s belly button? God, he had to get a grip. He bumped the door with his hip to give some warning. “Are you ready for your soup, sir?”

“Uh, yes, thank you. The salad was great.” Mark could tell from the cautious look in the man’s eyes that he was considering whether Mark had heard what they said. It was easy to forget servants behind closed doors.

He walked in and took away the salad plates. “I’m glad you liked it.” How invisible could he seem? Trying not to show how badly he wanted out of there, he put the plates in the kitchen and served the soup, then barricaded himself behind the door, breathing hard. Talk about hard. Thank God for his room service jacket. It hid the boner he got just hearing that guy’s voice. This too would pass. Breathe and don’t listen.

The soup wouldn’t last long. He pulled the plates from the warmer and began to lay out garnish. Parsley. Didn’t he remember a legend that said parsley grew for the wicked, but not for the just? Then, man, it should grow for him right now because his thoughts were not available on network TV. Maybe he’d chew a little parsley to disguise the smell of Ash’s cum on his breath. God, that stopped him dead. What a thought. Get to work.

Leaning toward the door, he heard soupspoons lightly scraping the bottoms of bowls. He plated the prime rib and new potatoes, took a deep breath so he wouldn’t smell Ash’s aftershave, and went into the dining room and removed the soup bowls. Back in the kitchen, he added the Brussels sprouts and spooned au jus over the meat. Rich aromas filled the room. Made his mouth water. He hadn’t had more than ten minutes for dinner. Quietly, he slipped into the dining room and served the main course.

Armitage smiled. Oh, God save him. “This looks delicious.”

Bitsy leaned back and looked up at him. “Hey, Sinders, you’re really good at this. They should let you be a waiter full time and get you out of those damned fireplaces.”

He wished. “Thank you, Miss Fanderel, but I think they usually have enough waiters.”

“You’re better than most of the waiters I’ve seen.”

“I don’t mind the fireplaces, miss. It’s job security. Nobody else wants to do it.” He grinned, and she laughed. “Enjoy your meal.”

Back in the kitchen, he sighed. That was nice of her. Now, if he could just…

The voice penetrated beyond the door. “So I hear you’re thinking of getting married.”

Mark’s spine turned to ice. He should leave. Go out in the hall. But his feet crept closer to the door all by themselves.

Ash’s melodious voice. “Uh, yes. Yes, I am.”

“People usually decide to get married after meeting someone they love. Your process seems backward.”

God, he wished he could be that direct.

“I like you.”

Mark’s breath caught at Armitage’s comment. Was he going to propose?

“That’s nice, but what does it have to do with your decision to get married?”

“I’m not sure, but I really like no-bullshit people. You saw that with Ronnie.”

“Yes, I saw it with Ronnie, but with you? Not so much. You seem to be mired in bullshit.”

Wow. The woman knew no fear.

“Nietzsche said, ‘He who cannot lie doesn’t know the meaning of truth,’ or something like that.” He laughed.

“You’re quoting Nietzsche to me? Really?” She laughed. “But, seriously, why on earth would you come to a place like this to find a woman you don’t know to marry? In all your—what?—twenty-four, twenty-five years, you haven’t found a single likely candidate and suddenly you have to find someone to marry today? That is the biggest bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

Mark agreed, but nobody had asked him. He pressed his ear closer.

“It’s complicated.”

Bitsy laughed. “No shit?”

“Let me say that the woman I marry stands to gain significantly from the arrangement.”

“In money, I assume. Not from the pleasure of your company.”

He laughed again. “I really do like you. Yes, in money. But the person will be stuck with me for an extended period of time. The provisions of the will say I can’t divorce for ten years. At that point, the woman can leave with a substantial settlement.”

Mark felt his hands shaking.

Her voice. “I guess it’s no worse than marriage transactions through the centuries.”

“Exactly.”

“But don’t you have a girlfriend, someone close, who can slip into this arrangement?”

“I want it to be impersonal. I have no real desire to marry, so I want the woman I choose to be entering a business arrangement and nothing more.” There was a pause. Was Bitsy thinking it over? Armitage’s voice. “Of course, it’d be nice if I liked the woman.”

Big pause. Mark held his breath.

Bitsy sounded thoughtful. “Ash, I like you, too, despite your bullshit, but I don’t want to get married.”

“Well, that sounds perfect then.”

“No. As much as I’d love to have the money to do anything I want, the problem is there are too many strings on that money. It would give you and others a say in how I live my life, and I don’t want that. I don’t want that more than I want the money.”

“See even that is attractive. Won’t you think about it?”

She laughed. “It’s complicated.”

Well, shit, for all intents and purposes, Armitage had proposed to Bitsy. Why the hell was Mark’s stomach in knots? What did he expect or hope for? Why was he obsessed with this man? He was sick. He didn’t believe in hoping for breakfast in the morning, much less to have a man like Ashton Armitage.

He sighed. He had to make his hands quit shaking. Had to stop thinking about those two in the dining room.

Oh shit, he couldn’t. Ash had asked her to marry him. At least she’d turned the billionaire down. But for how long? Could her sterling character really stand up to all that money?

He managed to get through dessert, cleared the table and left with Armitage and Bitsy sitting on the couch together. He wanted to cry, even though he had a huge tip in his pocket. It made him understand Bitsy. He might trade the money for never having been there at all.

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2 Day Happy Birthday Event With a Kindle Touch!

Hi everyone--  Welcome to the Happy Birthday Blog Hop! It's not my birthday, it's Carrie Ann's so wave hi to her and say happy birthday! Yayyyy. My name is Tara Lain and i write the Beautiful Boys of Romance. Erotic romance mostly MM and menage. If you haven't read in my genres before, there is an excerpt from my new release, Sinders and Ash, for you below. It's a fairy tale romance.

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Okay, birthdays!! Happy day to Carrie Ann (who organizes great blog hops!) My birthday story actually relates to my new book, Sinders and Ash which released April 1 from Amber Allure. In Sinders and Ash, one of my heroes, Ashton Armitage, has to get married before his 25th birthday in order to receive his inheritance from his grandfather. He has come to this upscale resort in upstate New York to find a bride in a hurry. Instead, he meets this quirky, beautiful guy who works in housekeeping. Here is an excerpt from Sinders and Ash.

Amber Allure

Work hard, stay anonymous and don’t expect much. That’s resort housekeeper Mark Sintorella’s philosophy of life. After being kicked out of his family home at sixteen for being gay, Mark knows what it takes to survive. But how is he going to stay anonymous when he wants to be recognized as a great fashion designer? And how can he control his expectations when he’s desperately attracted to Ashton Armitage, the son of the fifth richest man in America? If Ash doesn’t find a woman to marry he’s going to lose his inheritance, but he can’t seem to resist the beautiful kid who cleans fireplaces while hiding behind a black cap and heavy glasses. And then this crazy elf of a man, Carstairs Pennymaker, has Mark running around looking like a fashion model wearing gorgeous women’s clothes. The clock strikes twelve and the wedding follows the ball. Two beautiful princesses line up for attention. But one isn’t interested and one isn’t a woman. Who will be the bride? Will the shoe fit? Only his fairy godmother knows for sure.

Mark held onto the edge of the counter for a second. Breathe, you idiot. What about seeing Aston Armitage had he thought was going to be a good thing? This was torture. Those women were pretty. Which one was he going to marry? The blonde who came to talk to Armitage seemed to work for him, not like a new girlfriend. It must be Bitsy. He sighed. At least she was nice, the lucky duck. And Mrs. Fanderel would be ecstatic. Why in hell did the idea make him nauseous?

Okay, salads. Get this dinner served and get the fuck out of here. He arranged hearts of palm and avocado on Bibb lettuce and sprinkled on some pine nuts, then added a few dried cranberries for color and a drizzle of vinaigrette. He pulled the forks he’d set to chill from the refrigerator, placed it all on a tray and pushed through the swinging door with his shoulder. Heart pause. Bitsy and Armitage were already at the table.

Mark took a deep breath and plastered on a pleasant expression. “Your salads.” He placed Bitsy’s salad plate onto her serving charger he had set earlier. He was careful to serve from her left side and positioned the fork above her plate.

Okay, Armitage next.

Mark crossed around the table. Oh God, the man smelled so good. Focus, Mark. He put the salad plate into position with only the slightest clank. He hoped Armitage didn’t see his hands shaking. “Enjoy.”

The damned rich kid smiled at him, all flashing white teeth and dimples so huge you could sharpen a pencil in them. “These look delicious.”

Mark ducked his head a little and escaped through the swinging door. He knew delicious when he saw it and it had nothing to do with salad.

From inside the kitchen, he heard Armitage’s melodious voice say softly, “Ronnie must’ve been right about his being new. He seems nervous. Did a good job so far, though.”

Mark’s heart beat too fast. Thank God. If he could just survive the rest of the courses.

Bitsy’s soprano added, “Bless his heart, he works really hard in housekeeping.. He cleans the fireplaces a lot, so everyone calls him Sinders, which is kind of mean. Sadly, I don’t actually know his real name.”

Quiet. Must be chewing.

Bitsy piped up. “Don’t you think he’s a pretty boy, though?”

Oh crap. He held his breath. What answer did he want? He should want Armitage to say no he hadn’t noticed such a thing, but…

“Yeah, I was thinking that earlier. He’s as pretty as a girl under those glasses.”

Shit, shit, shit. He didn’t want Armitage to notice him, did he? Oh God, he just wanted to be anonymous and get the job done and make his money and… Oh Jesus, his cock was a steel rod. Just the thought that the damned billionaire’s son thought he was pretty did it for him to the max.

Bitsy wouldn’t leave it alone. “He’s prettier than most girls.” Quiet. “My mother hates it when I say that.”

“Oh, why?”

Mark couldn’t believe they were still talking about him.

“Because he’s a little strange with that cap and all, and he’s gay and Mother doesn’t like to think there’s anything good about a person like that.”

That got rid of his hard-on.

More quiet. “Uh, your mother doesn’t like gay men?”

“Are you kidding? I think she would’ve joined the Tea Party if it wasn’t so damned blue collar and trailer park.” Pause. “Of course, there’s a trailer or two in some recent generations of my family.” She laughed, and Armitage joined in.

“I gather you don’t agree with her?”

“About Sinders?”

“That and being gay, uh, and such.”

She laughed again. “My mother and I can barely agree on whether the sun is shining.” Pause. “And I have nothing against being gay. Nothing at all.”

Maybe they were done with their salads and he could get them to change this fucking conversation. He ladled some tomato bisque into two porcelain bowls, put them on the tray and added the spoons and condiments and set the whole thing on the counter.

Why did that soup make him think of licking it out of Ash’s belly button? God, he had to get a grip. He bumped the door with his hip to give some warning. “Are you ready for your soup, sir?”

“Uh, yes, thank you. The salad was great.” Mark could tell from the cautious look in the man’s eyes that he was considering whether Mark had heard what they said. It was easy to forget servants behind closed doors.

He walked in and took away the salad plates. “I’m glad you liked it.” How invisible could he seem? Trying not to show how badly he wanted out of there, he put the plates in the kitchen and served the soup, then barricaded himself behind the door, breathing hard. Talk about hard. Thank God for his room service jacket. It hid the boner he got just hearing that guy’s voice. This too would pass. Breathe and don’t listen.

The soup wouldn’t last long. He pulled the plates from the warmer and began to lay out garnish. Parsley. Didn’t he remember a legend that said parsley grew for the wicked, but not for the just? Then, man, it should grow for him right now because his thoughts were not available on network TV. Maybe he’d chew a little parsley to disguise the smell of Ash’s cum on his breath. God, that stopped him dead. What a thought. Get to work.

Leaning toward the door, he heard soupspoons lightly scraping the bottoms of bowls. He plated the prime rib and new potatoes, took a deep breath so he wouldn’t smell Ash’s aftershave, and went into the dining room and removed the soup bowls. Back in the kitchen, he added the Brussels sprouts and spooned au jus over the meat. Rich aromas filled the room. Made his mouth water. He hadn’t had more than ten minutes for dinner. Quietly, he slipped into the dining room and served the main course.

Armitage smiled. Oh, God save him. “This looks delicious.”

Bitsy leaned back and looked up at him. “Hey, Sinders, you’re really good at this. They should let you be a waiter full time and get you out of those damned fireplaces.”

He wished. “Thank you, Miss Fanderel, but I think they usually have enough waiters.”

“You’re better than most of the waiters I’ve seen.”

“I don’t mind the fireplaces, miss. It’s job security. Nobody else wants to do it.” He grinned, and she laughed. “Enjoy your meal.”

Back in the kitchen, he sighed. That was nice of her. Now, if he could just…

The voice penetrated beyond the door. “So I hear you’re thinking of getting married.”

Mark’s spine turned to ice. He should leave. Go out in the hall. But his feet crept closer to the door all by themselves.

Ash’s melodious voice. “Uh, yes. Yes, I am.”

“People usually decide to get married after meeting someone they love. Your process seems backward.”

God, he wished he could be that direct.

“I like you.”

Mark’s breath caught at Armitage’s comment. Was he going to propose?

“That’s nice, but what does it have to do with your decision to get married?”

“I’m not sure, but I really like no-bullshit people. You saw that with Ronnie.”

“Yes, I saw it with Ronnie, but with you? Not so much. You seem to be mired in bullshit.”

Wow. The woman knew no fear.

“Nietzsche said, ‘He who cannot lie doesn’t know the meaning of truth,’ or something like that.” He laughed.

“You’re quoting Nietzsche to me? Really?” She laughed. “But, seriously, why on earth would you come to a place like this to find a woman you don’t know to marry? In all your—what?—twenty-four, twenty-five years, you haven’t found a single likely candidate and suddenly you have to find someone to marry today? That is the biggest bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

Mark agreed, but nobody had asked him. He pressed his ear closer.

“It’s complicated.”

Bitsy laughed. “No shit?”

“Let me say that the woman I marry stands to gain significantly from the arrangement.”

“In money, I assume. Not from the pleasure of your company.”

He laughed again. “I really do like you. Yes, in money. But the person will be stuck with me for an extended period of time. The provisions of the will say I can’t divorce for ten years. At that point, the woman can leave with a substantial settlement.”

Mark felt his hands shaking.

Her voice. “I guess it’s no worse than marriage transactions through the centuries.”

“Exactly.”

“But don’t you have a girlfriend, someone close, who can slip into this arrangement?”

“I want it to be impersonal. I have no real desire to marry, so I want the woman I choose to be entering a business arrangement and nothing more.” There was a pause. Was Bitsy thinking it over? Armitage’s voice. “Of course, it’d be nice if I liked the woman.”

Big pause. Mark held his breath.

Bitsy sounded thoughtful. “Ash, I like you, too, despite your bullshit, but I don’t want to get married.”

“Well, that sounds perfect then.”

“No. As much as I’d love to have the money to do anything I want, the problem is there are too many strings on that money. It would give you and others a say in how I live my life, and I don’t want that. I don’t want that more than I want the money.”

“See even that is attractive. Won’t you think about it?”

She laughed. “It’s complicated.”

Well, shit, for all intents and purposes, Armitage had proposed to Bitsy. Why the hell was Mark’s stomach in knots? What did he expect or hope for? Why was he obsessed with this man? He was sick. He didn’t believe in hoping for breakfast in the morning, much less to have a man like Ashton Armitage.

He sighed. He had to make his hands quit shaking. Had to stop thinking about those two in the dining room.

Oh shit, he couldn’t. Ash had asked her to marry him. At least she’d turned the billionaire down. But for how long? Could her sterling character really stand up to all that money?

He managed to get through dessert, cleared the table and left with Armitage and Bitsy sitting on the couch together. He wanted to cry, even though he had a huge tip in his pocket. It made him understand Bitsy. He might trade the money for never having been there at all.

http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/SindersAndAsh.html

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