Dreamspinner Press discussion

S.A. Garcia will be joining us this afternoon from 1-6 EST for chatting, excerpts, anecdotes and more. Feel free to leave your questions early!

So how old were you when you knew you wanted to write full time for a career?

Arranging the flowers one last time. A lily is a sexy flower. The thrusting stigma and the wide open petals look suggestive.

Teresa wrote: "So how old were you when you knew you wanted to write full time for a career?"

Thanks for dropping by!

I am the cliche late bloomer. During my various careers in tech writing/ graphic design and music journalism, I always wrote fiction in my freetime. I scribbled stories in notebooks then progressed to the computer. But I never did anything with the stories.

A drastic career change at age 49 made me go, "what the hell, time to work on my writing in a serious manner." So far I'm excited with the results.

Since we’re here to talk about writing, here’s an excerpt from To Save A Shining Soul, my latest Dreamspinner release.

The story is a sexy contemporary fantasy involving a demon and divinity student trapped in hell. This excerpt is PG-13.

BLURB:
Sentenced to Hell for killing his betraying lover and himself, Marius is content to be a slacker. Sure, he seduces the occasional traffic violation into committing mass murder, but mostly, he enjoys hanging in his sweet ’comb and schmoozing with the other demons. Anything is better than being thrust into the Bank of Souls and thrown back into the Human world of pain and humiliation.

So when Marius discovers his cushy assignment is hanging by a thread, he vows to do anything and everything vile and reprehensible to keep his station in Hell, even if it means seducing young divinity student Tristan Gordon to keep him from realizing that his place in Hell is completely accidental. But Tristan is both clever and beguiling, and no one is more surprised to discover Marius has gone from seducer to protector than Marius himself.

EXCERPT:

Another silence capturing the flavor of rotten lemons hung in the air. This clumsy seduction decided to shrivel up and die like an unwatered tree rose. Marius desperately thought of something to say that wouldn’t toss him into the Bank of Souls, but still re-established delicate trust with the pale-faced young man glaring at him. Now he felt fearful of angering everyone!

Loud pounding on the front door added dangerous tension to the moment. Marius leaped to his feet and snarled. "Tris, quick, into the bedroom. I know that won’t help if things become ugly, but go!"

Now what happened? Accustomed to following orders, Tristan rose and ran into the bedroom. Hiding from attacking Demons made little sense, but his self-preservation screamed to hide. Wait, if he ran out and was killed, he… right, committed suicide. But what if they harmed Marius, rampaged in and dragged him away? If he struggled and was killed, did that also count as… gaaah! Gasping in terror, Tristan blanked his thoughts, rolled under the bed, and curled into a shivering fetal shape. Talk about suffering one Helluva bad day!

Marius summoned his Leaper form and approached the door. Brief guilt tickled his soul. If this was a serious attack, the shattered door would already rest on the ground, and he would be fighting like Heaven for his leathery skin. But why not make the situation work in Marius’s favor? He yanked open the door.
Orono waved hello. "Hey, Mariusss, I…."

Time for the big Demon voice. "Why do you seek battle with me, you ignorant Demon?"

What? A confused Orono squinted and glanced over his own dripping shoulder. Did someone Marius held a beef with decide to stroll past? No, all clear. "Mariusss, dude, what’sss up?"

More dialogue from a cliché video game thundered free but Marius thought the words matched the current situation. "Be warned, you foolish Demon, if you challenge me you will not survive! I am vowed to defend my precious charge!"

Confused, Orono waved his dripping talons. "Mariusss, buddy, come on, all…."

Enough silliness. Marius stepped out and slammed the door. He released a convincing roar, then his voice returned to normal tones. Poor Orono looked ready to ooze himself into a stinking puddle. "Orono, listen, I need to frighten the cutie, so play along."

Now they were talking fun! "I get it! Cool with me. Do you want me to ssshriek?"

"Loud and with great pain."

Orono released a hideous noise that burned Marius’s hearing. Impressive style! "Pleassse, Massster Demon, I did not know the dire sssituation! Do not punisssh me."

Perfect. “Now you know to stay away from my Human!” Marius dropped his voice. "A little more drama, all right?"

“Yesss, mighty Massster Mariussss, I ssshall not dare to crosss you further! The Human is yoursss! I accept and sssuccumb to your powerful will.” A series of damaged howls and hoots completed the insane tirade. Orono winked in satisfaction. "I took a courssse in fearful noisesss. Great ssstuff, eh?"

"You are a true pal. What’s up?"

"Moron Fiend here forgot to procure your releassse sssignature on the pretty one. I jussst need your palm print here." Marius pressed his palm onto the cool glass screen. "Thanksss. You know how the Adminsss go nutsss about misssing sssignaturesss, essspecially sssince the muckity mucksss are interesssted in your boy."

Orono’s constant hissing really eroded Marius’s nerves. The sound reminded him why he had stopped drinking with the drooling Fiend and stuck to playing chess. "He is a special case, so pass it around that he is not to be touched. If anyone fucks with Tris, well, the results won’t be pretty." For everyone including Marius.

"Good to know. He looksss sssweet and tasssty. I’ll passsss the word. Thanksss again for the sssignature. Do we need any more drama?"

"No, that’s good. I don’t want to overdo it." Odd, Orono’s drool puddle burned a little hole in the hall floor. His special noises truly were deadly. "See you later, Orono." They saluted each other. Marius slipped inside and leaned against the door. Did his ruse work? He transformed back into Human mode, summoned his clothing, and entered the bedroom. "Tris? It’s safe to come out."

Tristan peered out and recognized Marius’s strappy brown ankle sandals. He doubted if any other Demon wore Roman style sandals. He rolled free and scrambled to his feet. "What happened out there?"

Time to sound casual and confident. Good luck! "A small misunderstanding. Some other Demon thought he could challenge me for you, and I sent him packing."

"You mean you fought a duel for me?"

"In a rough sense, yes."

Tristan blinked in awe. He walked forward, hugged Marius in gratitude and planted a kiss on his serious lips. "Just when I wanted to smack you because you acted sneaky, you save me. You are one strange Demon." He added another fast embrace and stepped back, breaking free just before Marius pulled him close. They lingered close enough for Marius to still control the moment.

Well, the little evasive maneuver had felt unflattering. No matter, Marius still smiled in lusty consideration. "And you are a handsome man."

Warmth filled Tristan’s heart; it warred with his wary alertness. Could he chance closeness? "Are you flirting with me?"

"Yes."

I'm curious. You mention writing for many years. Did you always write m/m fiction?

Hi S.A., love the excerpt! I really enjoyed the fantasy world of Canes and Scales, will be seeing more of that world in the future?

Hey SA!

I'm wondering how much research you did about traditional demonology when you were draftning.

Missdavis wrote: "I'm curious. You mention writing for many years. Did you always write m/m fiction?"

Hey, thanks for dropping by!

Believe it or not yes, I started writing m/m fiction right from the start. Back in the late 70's I thought I was a complete freak. Back then I was a very shy introvert who spent too much time scribbling in the previous mentioned notebooks. Then I discovered the writer Gordon Merrick and other novelists who wrote about gay men in romantic situations. I was overjoyed.

My discovery of slash told me I had found a new passion. I worked up the nerve, started writing stories and felt amazed when people liked them.

OK, a long answer for a yes or no question!

Snowtulip wrote: "Hi S.A., love the excerpt! I really enjoyed the fantasy world of Canes and Scales, will be seeing more of that world in the future?"

Glad you liked the excerpt.

I fear I shortchanged Canes and Scales. It should have been a much longer book but I had the idea and wanted to see if anyone would publish it. Now that Linden is king I see lots of intrigue and trouble lurking in his future. Not sure of the timing but I will return to his world.

Damon wrote: "Hey SA!

I'm wondering how much research you did about traditional demonology when you were draftning."

Howdy, Damon! Thanks for dropping by.

If the FBI decides to search my house, my collection of books on witchcraft and demonology might alarm them. I am not a practicing occultist but the subject of demons and fallen angels always has fascinated me. Before I wrote "To Save a Shining Soul" I had written a book about a demon (which has been picked up by Silver Publishing) so I had a lot of research in place.

I have always wondered why I don't write a M/M book about a goth, rock or whatever band. I certainly spent plenty of time backstage viewing the antics. The bickering, the egos, the tension, the insanity was amazing. Watching a band just before they went onstage was far more fascinating than the aftershow experience. I was always amazed at how people who just conducted a serious fight could walk out and act like they loved each other.

The story I am contributing to the M/M group's Hot July Days anthology involves rock and roll characters. It's a start.

Here’s an excerpt from a short story to be released by Dreamspinner in July as part of the Bittersweet Dreams line. It’s, gasp, not a HEA.

Baron’s Last Hunt

BLURB:

Since his lover Samuel’s death, Baron can only keep his spirit alive by trying to recreate their first meeting at the Stockholm train station. Picking up a lively young stranger may ease his aching sorrow for a few stolen moments, but nothing can heal the emptiness in his soul – until a smiling young man calling himself Rogue steps into Baron’s Rolls. For the first time, Baron finds himself thinking beyond a brief release… but Rogue may be more than he seems.

EXCERPT:

As he fell into host mode, Baron held up the open bottle of Bollinger RD 1973. "Care for champagne?"

"Whoa, quite an impressive vintage. It’s not everyday I enjoy a free ride and tasty treats. You are one stylish host." The young man accepted the crystal champagne flute and instinctively held the glass by the long stem. Yes, just as Baron thought; this beautiful boy possessed breeding. His flashing white teeth looked too perfect and his speech, while peppered with casual slang, sounded smooth and precise, his tone smoothed from years of expensive schooling. Quality upbringing crafted this lustrous young Brit. Intriguing.

After they saluted each other and sipped, both men secured their flutes into the small, pull-down teak shelf. Baron rested back against the comfortable seat and presented his guest with his usual shy smile. The initial encounter always made him feel nervous and silly. He felt twenty-five again, unsure and wondering if he’d made a serious mistake in exposing his forbidden desire to another male. "What can I call you?"

A sly little smile curved the man’s moist lips. "Do you mean what can you call me, or what’s my name?"

"Whichever you prefer."

The young man’s smile widened in subtle mockery. "OK, great. You can call me Rogue."

What a tempting tease. "So be it. Hello, Rogue, I’m Baron."

"Hello, Baron. Tell me, is that a name or a title?"

Baron smiled again. Their little game pleased him. "Whichever you prefer." He loved the silly nickname dear Samuel had bestowed on him: Baron Wildcock. Today the nickname’s final part remained tucked away.

"Uh-huh. So be it right back at you. Good enough." After shooting another slightly mocking smile at Baron, Rogue stretched his long body in a calculated display of tight male flesh. "Right now I prefer to remove this smelly shirt from my body. I’ve worn the stinking thing for two days. Can you believe some asshole nicked my old bag off the train? I hope the pervert gets off on my dirty underwear. I need to buy more." Without hesitation Rogue whipped off his tight red T-shirt and dropped the wrinkled garment onto the floor. Another satisfied stretch rolled his pale, fine skin against his lean young muscles. Once Rogue finished, he casually dropped his right hand against his crotch.

Dear Lord on high. Had Baron picked up a seasoned young hustler? It wouldn’t be the first time; look at his delicious Derek. Not that he minded a clean professional, but Baron preferred the subtle chase instead of practiced seduction. If Rogue’s elegant fingers reached for Baron’s zipper, then he’d own his true answer.

Instead, Rogue shifted his weight. His firm back rested against the opposite door. Rogue kept his knowing dark stare locked to Baron’s blue-gray gaze. He lifted his right leg and slid his denim-clad flesh behind Baron’s ass.

Baron’s body leapt in breathless response. His eyes instantly followed Rogue’s slim length right up to Rogue’s impressive, cloth-bound basket. Ha, all Baron could think was the V created by Rogue’s wantonly spread thighs reminded him of the pattern formed by migrating geese. The shape winged up toward true masculine paradise.

Cocking his head in question, Rogue lightly patted his own crotch. The casual gesture both demanded and ordered.

S.A. wrote: "Missdavis wrote: "I'm curious. You mention writing for many years. Did you always write m/m fiction?"

Hey, thanks for dropping by!

Believe it or not yes, I started writing m/m fiction right from ..."

Judging from your reply do you mainly read M/M fiction?

Hi, S.A. That is a wonderful excerpt. I love demon stories, anyway, and especially the ones with humor, and then to add a little m/m seduction—great. And I love Marius. I do have a question for you. Other than m/m, have you read (or written) any other work in this sub-genre—I guess it would be urban fantasy? What I mean to say is, what were your influences, and what made you decide to write m/m in this genre?

Missdavis wrote: "S.A. wrote: "Missdavis wrote: "I'm curious. You mention writing for many years. Did you always write m/m fiction?"

Hey, thanks for dropping by!

Believe it or not yes, I started writing m/m fictio..."

I enjoy reading M/M fiction but I certainly do read other genres. I have to say horror is my favorite genre, not the cliche splatter horror but more imaginative horror. And yes, a few M/M dark horror tales slither around on my computer. I have submitted one so we shall see!

I wandered away from reading fantasy but recently I returned to the fold. I am one of the people whining and complaining over George RR Martin's delay in completing the "A Song of Ice and Fire" series. How cliche of me.

S.A. wrote: "Snowtulip wrote: "Hi S.A., love the excerpt! I really enjoyed the fantasy world of Canes and Scales, will be seeing more of that world in the future?"

Glad you liked the excerpt.

I fear I short..."

Glad to hear, I felt like I just got a glimpse and want more. Looking foward to the rock star story, one of my favorite m/m stories ;)

Lou wrote: "Hi, S.A. That is a wonderful excerpt. I love demon stories, anyway, and especially the ones with humor, and then to add a little m/m seduction—great. And I love Marius. I do have a question for yo..."

Hi Lou! Yes, my demon tale contains humor. I have been told it's bad form to dilute the genre with humor but I say pffffth.

Yes, I definitely read urban fantasy.

I have written another tale about an male incubus (little joke) who steals human form and falls in love with a sweet, normal electrician. Temptation of the Incubus is set in present day NYC and the narrator is a sexy, self-centered, funny, charming rogue. I almost feel I should whisper this... Temptation is being published by Silver Publishing in October. If you like To Save A Shining Soul, you'll like Temptation of the Incubus.

I am also in the middle of a wrestling match involving an H.P. Lovecraft-inspired story set in modern-day Scotland but centered around an ancient disturbance. I was cruising along then BLAM, I hit a huge writing pothole and derailed. I keep changing the ending. Stupid!

I do have contemporary vampire story in progress (who doesn't?) set in North Carolina. It involves a nasty vampire, not a sparkly one.

Snowtulip wrote: Glad to hear, I felt like I just got a glimpse and want more. Looking foward to the rock star story, one of my favorite m/m stories ;)

The rock and roll story will contain bondage. It's gonna be a hoot.

Hey, it could be the lead-in to something longer, eh?

If a writer falls off her chair in the middle of a live blog, does she make a sound? Yes, "ouch." Yeah, that's me, about as witty as a stump. Just not in a witty mood. Now would be a great time to work on something depressing.

I understanding you're suffering from a bit of writer's block. Why?

S.A. wrote: "I understanding you're suffering from a bit of writer's block. Why?"

Well, mostly because for the past ten days I've been visiting my mother in Pittsburgh and now she's visiting the family on this side of the US. I've written a fee sentences but nothing to move the stubborn WIPs forward. I have a feeling come Tuesday after she leaves the words will return. If they don't it will worry the shit out of me.

What's your favorite gin?

S.A. wrote: "What's your favorite gin?"

Thanks, self, for asking. I really like Junipero but it's too expensive. Bombay Sapphire is great when it's on sale. Currently I am sipping the reasonably-priced Sir Robert Burnett.

LOL - So, if your mother causes writer's block, what inspires you?

S.A.

Saw your post on the DSP loop and thought I'd stop in to say hello. I hope the chat is going well.

Cheers
Andrew

And does your mother know what you write?

S.A. wrote: "If the FBI decides to search my house, my collection of books on witchcraft and demonology might alarm them. I am not a practicing occultist but the subject of demons and fallen angels always has fascinated me. Before I wrote "To Save a Shining Soul" I had written a book about a demon (which has been picked up by Silver Publishing) so I had a lot of research in place"

That's great to know! I'm kind of a stickler about that stuff, so it's great to hear you laid the groundwork with some solid digging!

Something comical occurred in Pittsburgh. My extremely conservative brother didn't know about my writing career. I had told my extremely conservative mother I had two romance novels published with two more to be released later in the year. I didn't go into detail about the subject matter.

So my mother urges me to make the announcement to my brother, sister-in-law and his two college age daughters. Everyone is "yeah, great".

Then my brother grabs his laptop, logs onto Amazon and starts reading the description for Canes and Scales. No lie, he flushes bright red and sputters. My nieces love his reaction. He stares at me in total shock, shakes his head and starts muttering under his breath.

My nieces grab their laptops and buy both DSP releases.

My brother never mentioned the subject again. I'll give him points; at least he didn't bluster at me.

What fun!

Wendy wrote: "LOL - So, if your mother causes writer's block, what inspires you?"

Hi Wendy, thanks for dropping by!

What inspires me? Plenty of time alone. I think that's why I write late at night. That's probably part of the problem; my night owl schedule is disrupted.

Sometimes a few glasses of wine also helps my imagination.

Andrew wrote: "S.A.

Saw your post on the DSP loop and thought I'd stop in to say hello. I hope the chat is going well.

Cheers
Andrew"

Thanks for dropping by, Andrew. I've having fun.

Wendy wrote: "And does your mother know what you write?"

Hee hee, she just found out last weekend. She admits she is "shocked" and doesn't understand why I write M/M romance, but she was more impressed that someone would actually publish my work.

I do know she makes little comments here and there regarding my writing. Subtle little comments. They slide right off.

Excellent. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Andrew

S.A. wrote: "Plenty of time alone. I think that's why I write late at night. That's probably part of the problem; my night owl schedule is disrupted.

Sometimes a few glasses of wine also helps my imagination."

Sounds perfect! I'm a night owl too who likes my alone time - and wine can definitely be inspirational, although I confess to greater creativity with margaritas;)

Wendy wrote: Sounds perfect! I'm a night owl too who likes my alone time - and wine can definitely be inspirational, although I confess to greater creativity with margaritas;)

I do love margaritas but they make me sleepy. After I'm done here I am mixing a potent mint julep. I save the drink for special occasions. But I am planning to make bean burritos for dinner sooooo perhaps a margarita does loom in my future.

No wonder my characters all drink. It's the personal experience angle.

Special added bonus! Here's a short story that's been rattling around for many moons.

WARNING: It's allll about three men enjoying a sexual contest.

35 Strokes


Reggie examined Sean’s structured face. The fierce grimace controlling Sean’s thin lips marred his rugged beauty. What a stubborn lunatic.

Time to make Sean’s grimace carve furious ravines into his flesh. As he grunted in effort Reggie arched up from the passion-drenched mattress. His stiff cock jerked right in subtle stir. Technically he cheated but Reggie often ignored Sean’s crazy rules. Hell, he suffered enough rules on the football field.

Perfect. Reggie’s upward thrust forced an anguished gasp from tightly-drawn lips. Reggie loved Sean’s dramatic gasps. They told him someone teetered on control’s edge.

Reggie never met anyone who analyzed every passionate maneuver. A year ago Sean created the rule-laden 35-stroke game. Depending on Sean’s mood some rules mutated but the stroke rule never varied; Sean’s magnificent ass muscles could squeeze, rotate, clench and grip all he liked; only up and down movement counted as a true stroke. Sean possessed the most incredible ass muscles aside from Estéban’s. Estéban’s talented muscles always twisted Reggie’s dick into helpless submission, but forceful Sean came damned close to possessing such amazing skills. This afternoon Reggie’s control struggled not to submit to the glorious warmth teasing his cock. His cock’s stern endurance felt threatened.

Reggie ran callused fingers over Sean’s tanned thighs. Mmm, those carved muscles quivered from hip-spanning stress. Reggie added verbal tease. “Succumb. Give into my lofty cock. Bow to your supreme master.” Reggie flashed Sean his finest sinful smile.

Sean slithered up then he slowly rolled down against Reggie’s stubborn cock. His ass rotated in lazy, clenching circles. This afternoon’s ride begged for a sexy award. “Reggie, your last thrust was an illegal move. I also warned you not to touch me today.”

The panting Estéban scolded. “No, Sean, you told our miniature Empire State building not to touch your perfect British prick. You made no rules about touching...”

Reggie arching up in startled lust interrupted Estéban’s breathy speech. “Sean, you flaming cheater, no pinching my nipples! Not during the first 35!”

Sean’s response failed in eloquence. “I own the right to cheat!”

Theatrical laugher spilled from Estéban’s throat. “You earned yourself a three stoke penalty.”

Fuck this shit! Sean’s erratic panting almost halted coherent speech. His voice held the nasty charm of a petulant five-year-old. “What is this, a damned golf game? We never talked about issuing fucking penalties!”

“Too bad, you’re up to 19 strokes so govern yourself accordingly.” Estéban ended his mocking words by biting Sean’s straining neck.

“Baby queen, stop talking like a lawyer. Stop biting my n-n-eck!”

“No. You know what else? This obsession with trying to make our burly Reggie come in under 35 strokes is silly. I decree you, Sean, are under a level ten sexual attack. No mercy from the court.” Estéban wrapped his brown arms around Sean’s writhing torso and massaged his peaking nipples. He kissed his lover’s neck. Mmm, Sean’s sweaty flesh tasted better than the first sip of chilled Junipero, sharp, crisp and intoxicating. Time to break his rebellious Sean into sobbing lust. Estéban knew he could perform the deed.

The young lawyer adored his potent older lovers. The international threesome met every three months, they descending on Sean’s London penthouse for sexy long weekends. Estéban winged in from Miami while Reggie arrived from Chicago. When they met, their wild sex tilted the world on a new axis.

Reggie’s smile widened in delight before he reached out and ran his fingers just above the beautiful sculpture wetly smacking his belly. Ha, his reluctant lover needed a firm massage. Sean’s cock trembled.
The steady massage from Reggie’s weathered fingers forced a helpless gasp from Sean’s contorted lips. Fine. Trying to ignore the fresh assault Sean’s talented tunnel gripped Reggie’s hard dick like a swirling whirlpool. Estéban’s weeping cock massacred Sean’s backdoor tease zone. Not yet!

As he enjoyed taming his randy millionaire, Estéban sensed how Sean controlled himself. Tycoon Sean adored controlling his empire, his employees and sometimes Estéban and Reggie but not this sweltering afternoon.

A dangerous shudder ran through Reggie’s powerful body. Whatever relentless Sean did with his world-class ass felt astonishing. His fingers slipped to stroke Sean’s trembling dick. Reggie wanted to lunge forward and wrap his lips around the moist masterpiece but Sean’s cruel stranglehold on his nipples prevented upward mobility. His control freak acted like he wanted to rip off Reggie’s nipples and mount them in his mental trophy case.

Estéban nibbled an earlobe. “Reggie, my manly bull, our stubborn tyrant won’t survive much longer. Are you keeping close score?”

Reggie’s husky voice sounded underwatery strained. “29 strokes.”

“Use these next six wisely.” A dozen nips deepened Sean’s reddened earlobe toward burgundy. Estéban trailed his tongue down Sean’s high cheekbone. His tongue flicked Sean’s lips. His firmly pinching fingers felt Sean’s nipples contort in sheer defiance.
Sean wanted to succumb and let his tormented cock spew across Reggie’s broad, mahogany chest. No! Perhaps this was Sean’s triumphant afternoon. Damn, Estéban’s sexy assault made it impossible to shift his ass into proper position. Sean knew the tension infecting Reggie’s muscular neck and shoulders screamed potential sexual defeat. Yes, Reggie’s bearded chin pointed at the carved ceiling. Sean smiled in anticipation.

All or nothing. Heaving up in effort Sean rammed his Micheangeloesque ass down into full throttled dick embrace. That insane maneuver almost made him lose sexual control. No! Fuck!

Reggie released a sex-choked cry. Estéban stared in startled surprise. “Did...”

A dual “no” hissed out in contrasting degrees of frustration and triumph. Reggie hoarsely teased. “31.”
Sean squeezed his inner muscles so tight he felt sure he’d shred Reggie’s dick. “30!”

“No, my eager Brit, you bounced back up so that made two strokes.”

Estéban snickered in glee. Sean’s outraged sputtering sounded out of place during their delicious fucking. What an anal nut! Deciding to escalate the sexual threat Estéban rubbed his own excited cock against his lover’s damp lower back.

A frantic Sean struggled against all the sexual temptations and rippled his inner muscles in fierce arpeggios. Unfortunately his own willful cock decided it awarded Reggie’s fingers first place.

Sean’s agonized multi-toned gasp coincided with his potent release. An incoherent Reggie bucked up and climaxed at the exact same time. Estéban happily spent himself all over his lover’s back in four satisfied spurts. “Gentleman, we have a draw. We’d need an Olympic judge in here to decide otherwise.”

The giddy joy in Sean’s panting voice made both Reggie and Estéban shudder with laughter. “A draw! So... but technically...”

Hearing Sean analyze this special moment made Estéban bear-hug his part-time lover’s limp body. “Sean, if you utter another stupid word I will spank you.”

“Stupid.” Mmm, his Estéban knew how to spank!

Reggie relaxed and enjoyed the second hand vibrations shaking his flesh. Maybe they needed to push the sexual schedule up to every two months. Ahh.

Holy crap, Goodreads crashed for a few seconds. I was ready to scream.

Will there be any recognizable but thinly-veiled characters in your rock and roll story, or will it be more of an amalgamation?

Marci wrote: "Will there be any recognizable but thinly-veiled characters in your rock and roll story, or will it be more of an amalgamation?"

Hi Marci! Glad you could make it.

Definitely an amalgamation but I will confess there's a certain band featuring twin brothers that is ripe with fascinating possibilities. The fights, the glitter, the lipstick, the high drama!

HI SA

well it certainly doesn't look like you're talking to yourself any longer :P

HOLY COW a threeway. very HOT!

S.A. wrote: "My nieces grab their laptops and buy both DSP releases."

Love that! WHat was their feedback? DId you ever find our if they'd enjoyed them?

Damon wrote: That's great to know! I'm kind of a stickler about that stuff, so it's great to hear you laid the groundwork with some solid digging!


I always fear someone thinking "she doesn't have a clue about what she's writing about." Really serious WTF mistakes can make me stop reading.

Lily wrote: "HI SA

well it certainly doesn't look like you're talking to yourself any longer :P

HOLY COW a threeway. very HOT!"

Thanks, Lily. That's my attempt to write a story centered around nothing but sex. No real plot, just steamy fun.

Damon wrote: "S.A. wrote: "My nieces grab their laptops and buy both DSP releases."

Love that! WHat was their feedback? DId you ever find our if they'd enjoyed them?"

It was a hilarious moment. I am going to give them a little time before I ask if they read them. I am absolutely dying of curiosity.

There are just too many ideas waiting to grow into stories. I had one screaming and yelling for attention but once my other WIPs glared and bared their teeth in warning the idea quieted down. The idea even has a proper title. It hides in the file as a one page outline.

But I don't want to start running off in yet another direction. Damn, I am my own worst enemy.

S.A. wrote: "Lou wrote: "Hi, S.A. That is a wonderful excerpt. I love demon stories, anyway, and especially the ones with humor, and then to add a little m/m seduction—great. And I love Marius. I do have a que..."
Now, I'm going to have to watch for that Lovecraftian thing. My friend Brian Harrison crocheted me a baby Cthulu, so...

Time for another excerpt!

Here's more from To Save A Shining Soul.

A low rumble echoed through the tall, solid blood doors. Asmodeus’s voice, if raised in anger, owned the capacity to flatten Fiends by the thousands. The left Archfiend opened the dripping door just enough to allow Marius entrance. What a rude bastard. Marius stepped into the long room and bent forward in a supremely respectful bow. “You wished to see me, oh Dread Lord?”

Asmodeus looked up from his beloved NYT crossword puzzle and impatiently waved his left talons. “Cut the menial crap, Marius, and come sit down. Why does everyone feel the need to tiptoe around me? Am I such a flaming bastard?”

Not a question anyone in his sane mind wanted to answer. Hopefully the demonic Duke didn’t desire a true answer. Please. The unsettled Marius walked for what felt like ten minutes across quivering red slime until he reached Asmodeus’s pulsating lava desk. Neat trick to keep the NYT puzzle from erupting into flames. Another bow felt proper. “Please, Lord, you—”

The low rumble shook the entire cavern. A few small boulders crashed into the bloody floor. “Hmm, yes, I seem to remember asking you to cut the crap.”

Someone desired an honest answer. Marius cocked his head and shrugged in helpless truth. “Fine. My Lord, you do scare the crap out of everyone.” He huddled back expecting to meet the opposite bloody wall.

Asmodeus’s three heads chuckled in delight. “And lo, look there, piles of steaming scat appeared in his wrathful wake. Excellent. Glad to hear my bad-assed reputation still inspires the proper respect. Marius, you old coward, stop acting like I might eviscerate you. Not my plan for this afternoon.” His bull head nodded in sage agreement while his snake tail slithered around his huge ruby wine goblet. “Find your spine, sit down, and try this wine. Poetic, eh? Yes indeed, I am a classy old fart. I know you enjoy fine Human wine over bloodwine, which is why I like you so much. You are a classy Leaper.” One Human arm poured vermillion wine from a filthy, coral-encrusted bottle, the vessel looking like something recently pulled from a shipwreck.

Relieved to still be standing, Marius accepted the smaller goblet and sipped. His tongue appreciated the arousing sensation. “Mmm, Dread Lord, this tastes truly delicious. What ocean yielded this bounty?”

A talon gestured toward the ceiling. “The wicked old Caribbean. A few modern-day pirates found a fifteenth-century Spanish shipwreck occupied by killer sharks. Yum, yum, yum, crunch, crunch! Guess who enjoys the tasty spoils? I scored the bottles and old casks. Wonderful! I love procuring the real deal. Bloodwine simply doesn’t satisfy the palate as much.” Three left eyes winked in glee.

As usual Marius found the sight unsettling, but he saluted his boss and enjoyed another mouthful. The superior wine captured a sunny emotion almost forgotten in Marius’s soul. He swore he had tasted such a rich vintage back when he enjoyed life.
Curious. Still, Asmodeus did not summon Marius simply to share this fine old wine. Time to act blunt. “My Dread Lord, what do you wish from me?”

Asmodeus rumbled in amusement. “Marius, please don’t worry. You are still my favorite Leaper. You could cause a ten sand pile-up in your favorite Level, and I’d let you slide. Your skill navigating the Dangerous Drivers has won me a tidy sum of souls.”

What? Marius blinked and cocked his head. “You bet on us?”

“Why not? The Dukes enjoy supporting their favorites. I admit I started the popular trend. No surprise there, eh? I adore that deranged Level. Once you practiced the course, you beat it every time, but last week when Baal aimed a rogue RV your way, I wanted to slap him into the nearest acid pit. As usual, you rose above the challenge and made me feel proud. I gained a fallen Angel as a pet. I won an excellent bet.”

Asmodeus chuckled again and relaxed back. “But enough happy talk. An important mission awaits your expertise.” All three faces: bull, Human and ram, fell into serious expression. “I’ll be blunt; someone made one Heaven of a fuck up.”

Another slow blink felt proper. The Senior Leaper almost wept in apprehension. Hearing such a declaration meant the new special task guaranteed hairy-assed danger. Instead of wincing like a coward, Marius shifted in his thorn-studded seat and sipped his wine. “What happened, my Dread Lord?”

All six eyes rolled in disgust. “Someone destined for the Wing Wagger Whoopie ended up here.”

Startled, Marius choked on his sip. The news sounded worse than anticipated. One word broke free. “No.” Fine, mistakes were made, but rarely on such a cosmic scale.

Appendages decorated with scales, skin, talons, and fur rose to shoulder level. “Can you believe such a stupid mess? Here’s the specific problem: the man in question was entered as a suicide, when in truth he suffered an allergic reaction to swine flu medication. I tell you these new sicknesses really screw up the Eternal Lists. He’s a divinity student—how dull—and, according to the Sacred Scrolls, he should have gone on to be the rare stellar reverend. No constant boozing, no little boys, no wayward behavior. Nope, instead he was supposed to be a man dedicated to helping the hopeless. No fun for us, but what a home run for the Wing Waggers. Whoops, he is down here, but they want him up there. Indeed, they want him enough to politely ask for his return. Amazing for them to admit their mistake. Fancy wing Michael feels oh so sorry!” Asmodeus leaned forward and winked. “Here’s the sweet part: the Cloud Clods messed up his initial exam. They flushed their sterling prize before someone sounded the celestial alarm. We are blameless. We can keep him here. I feel sure if we ran a rigorous review of his life, we’d find something to keep him. You know, occasional speeding here or a pen theft there. Since Humans always fuck up on the bigger tag sins, we don’t usually enforce the minor crap, but with him the trick would work. However, since Cloud Clods want him, I’ll play nice.”

Play nice? Really. Why? Baffled, Marius sipped again. Judging by the smug expression on Asmodeus’s shifting faces, the playing nice part never entered the Duke’s twisted mind. Or did he own minds? Three heads, one mind? Not the time to dwell on the curious spectacle. Instead Marius smiled in polite anticipation. “So where do I enter into the situation?”

A hoof pointed down in serious threat. “Marius, you need to ensure this divine recruit never reaches his final destination. I want him as ours. Keeping him down here is a grand ‘up yours’ to the Cloud Clods.”

Hmm. “Permission to use all my abilities?”

The bull face leered in magnificent lust. “Marius, you own permission to lead this poor lamb around Hell for as long as you wish. Give this divinity student the full course meal. Show him what he missed for all those years. Make him embrace us, love us and, most importantly, remain with us.” The serpent tail waved in sinuous suggestion.

Dwelling in Hell for two thousand years made one act extremely leery. “What if this saintly man only wants out of here? Suppose he rejects my advances?”

Low chuckles battered the air. “Our candidate loves men, only he keeps his inclinations well-hidden. Definitely a dainty closet-case. I know after the Last United Council the whole question of Love no matter who you adore, allows his passion, but still, his mindset gives you a special advantage. Correct, little whore?”

Love the excerpts - thanks for sharing!

Lou wrote: Now, I'm going to have to watch for that Lovecraftian thing. My friend Brian Harrison crocheted me a baby Cthulu, so...

That's great! I really want to finish the story. It's plaguing me.

I also have an idea for a comedy centered around a character named HP Loungecraft, designer of killer couches and beds. I'll get around to that story in, hmm, ten years?

Dlee wrote: "Your nieces were rather brave to download right in front of their glaring father!"

I know! One niece even declared, "oh Dad, stop, your face will freeze like that."

Hell, I should send them medals for bravery.