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Let me preface my remarks about a “gay language” by introducing a series of novels I’ve written, The Gaslight Mysteries…Gay retro with a twist. These books follow the escapades of a gay man, Michael McCree, and his reluctant partner Simon Hart. The two men, private investigators in 1923-1924 Ireland, look into some very private affairs—yet none more private than their own.

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A vintage photo showing two 20s men relaxing in the privacy of their home, or their flat. Gotta love that pipe!

In each of the novels, I have used a patois commonly spoken and understood by homosexuals at the time, the decade of the “Roaring Twenties,” and some of the words, mostly from Italy, were common among them even a few hundred years before that. To me, the most interesting and even startling fact is that many of the words are in common usage today—by gays and straights alike—even if some of the meanings have shifted somewhat through the years.

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Another vintage photo, snapped inside a gentlemen’s private pub.

Some say that straights have always been the last to understand their gay brethren, and their language is no different. As early as the 1600s in Britain and on the continent, a language called “Polari” sprang up among gays and was heard in open markets, on fairgrounds and in circuses, and especially in the British Merchant Navy. Based loosely on a variant of Italian called “Romany,” it incorporated such disparate elements as slang, circus and thieves’ cant, and later (during World War II) even Yiddish expressions.

The language was widespread, as common as the gay subculture that spread it.  Then as now, gays were eager to distinguish themselves in their own community, and to hide their sexual preferences from a hostile society, by the use of a rich variety of words known only to them.

Those familiar with Gypsies, Travellers and Pavees will find nothing new here!

clothing=retro pantsIn doing research for my Gaslight Mysteries, I’ve found many expressions that were popular not only in Britain in the 1920s, but also in Ireland, Scotland and American urban centers. Many of the following words were “sneaked” onto British television starting in the 1960s; and even though the 60s saw the decline of Polari, it has recently made a comeback on such shows as “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” and in the mouths of contemporary comedians.

In 2002, two books on the subject were published, both written by Paul Baker.  They are Polari: The Lost Language of Gay Men; and Fantabulosa: A Dictionary of Polari  and Gay Slang.

The following are some Polari words and expressions. The ones with asterisks are those I’ve used in my novels, words that I find especially textured and evocative of the complex characters who speak them. They are listed in alphabetical order. Of course, you’ll see many familiar words among these. The surprise is that the words were well known by the decade of the Roaring Twenties, and some of them even hundreds of years before then.

Note: in my retro books, gay men are always omi palones, keeping with the reality of the time.

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*Basket…The bulge of male genitals as seen through their clothing
Bibi…Bisexual
*Bitch…Effeminate or passive gay male
*Blag…a pick-up
*Blue…Homosexual
*Brandy… cum (ejaculate), or pre-cum

Camp…Effeminate
*Cod…Vile, nasty, naff
Dilly boy..Male prostitute
Dish…Butt, buttocks
Drag…Clothes, esp. women’s clothes
*Kaffies…Baggy trousers
*Lilly…Police
Naff…Ugly, vile, hetero (“not available for fucking”)
*Omi…Man
Palone…Woman
*Omi-palone…Homosexual man
*Slap…Makeup
*Scarp (scarper): to run, to leave
*Trade…Sexual encounter (rough trade… a blue-collar, thuggish, or even a violent sex partner)
Tootsie trade…Sex between two passive homosexuals
*Troll…To walk about, esp. looking for trade
*Zhoosh (verb), zhooshy…(adj.) To style hair, the adj. meaning “showy” or tarted up

GL full covers

Erin O’Quinn, author

The Gaslight Mysteries: Gay Retro with a Twist, 5 bestseller novels so far!
http://amzn.to/2CZsBxm   

~oOo~

Erin’s Blogs: check ’em out!

The Man in Romance: (what you’re now reading)
https://romancemanlove.wordpress.com

The Gaslight M/Mysteries:
https://caitlinfire.wordpress.com

Celtic Fire:
https://erinsromance.wordpress.com

Ac’cent Gay Lit Authors:
https://gaylitauthors.wordpress.com

Footprints in the Wind:
leblogcestmoi.wordpress.com 

 

 

 

 

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A rancher’s son goes to Scotland in search of his family roots. Fate brings him to the door of an oversized, cranky castle laird. After getting off on the wrong, er, boot…the men find something about each other to delve into more deeply. But fate can be a cruel matchmaker. 

Finding the Loch Ness monster…a contemporary #gay #romance- #fantasy novella.

Excerpt:

They were close as a whisker. So close Hugh felt a movement of his kilt, where the guardian sporran used to be. It was now pulled to the side, and the lump he felt was not the man’s purse.

That was his signal.

He cupped the chin and brought Guthrie’s face to within an inch of his own. He raised his head only a little. Only a touch at first, a brushing of lips, a tongue running along the wide mouth, still shut, seeming not to yield.

Another truth came to him in another moment of wonder. This man has never had a real kiss before.

So softly it seemed to be almost unspoken, Hugh finally broke their long silence. “It’s okay. Open for me.”

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He found a small opening and breached it, sliding his tongue inside, and then his cock decided to try bursting from his suit pants. He moaned, and Guthrie opened his mouth wider. Hugh cupped the man’s jaws and entered his mouth, deep, his tongue searching the inside, slicking its way deeper. He pulled out a little, lingering on the bottom lip.

In a frenzy of need, he sank his teeth into the flesh of that lip, savoring the soft rush of blood, licking it clean.

He spoke into the wounded mouth. “Suck my tongue. Will you?”

The answering voice came low. “Call me Graeme.”

“Suck my tongue, Graeme.”

 

Kinde US: http://amzn.to/1SHlutk 

Kindle UK: http://amzn.to/23CzwIi 

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/1VujDiI

 

Following COWBOYS AND KILTS is another novel about a Scot and an American. But this time, the Scot is out of his element, and the American, a state trooper, is ironically the Highlander as both these guys meet and mate in Nevada’s highest mountain range. That book is NEVADA HIGHLANDER.

Oh, ouch! I have just realized that this “home” section of my blog should have fresh blogs every week or at least every month. I am quite far behind on it, so I’ll catch you up to speed on my writing since Noble, Nevada. If you go to the page headings at the top, though, you will see updates on my MM writing.

The Chase debuted end of January. It’s another in the “Noble Dimensions” series, this time starring two different guys.

THE CHASE . . .

 

TheChaseZonLogo copyIf  you like ranchers and small-town guys . . . if you like rugged landscapes and plain-spoken people . . . if you like your erotica on the phallic and anal side of extra-hot . . . I think you’re gonna like The Chase.

Two unlikely men are drawn to each other, even over the space of years:

Brew is openly and outspokenly gay. He’s been pursuing a half-assed college career in Los Angeles, letting his father pay the rent and tuition as “blood money” for detesting his gay lifestyle. Brew left the two-bit town of Noble, Nevada four years back. But he’s never forgotten his old high school hero, the god-in-a-muscle-tee named Chase.

Chase is shy, a man who used to be a high-school football player but who spends most of his time alone with his dad on a 2000-acre ranch. Since high school, Chase has hidden his fantasies of a good-looking, dark haired guy named Brew. He’s let the years dull his dreams, but he’s never forgotten a pair of deep flashing eyes and a sardonic lift of the mouth.

An outspoken gay and a quiet rancher are each pursuing a fantasy. Where will the chase lead them?

Brew Lloyd finds himself back in Noble, taking care of his parents’ home while they’re at the bedside of his dying uncle. His father has arranged for him to find part-time work during the day at a ranch outside of Noble called The Chase. Brew doesn’t fit the name with his old crush, until he goes to the ranch and sees the man from his long-ago fantasies, Chase Grayson.

For his part, Chase must suddenly confront a man whom he thought he’d forgotten, left under the blankets of his bed as he burrowed his needing flesh into a lonely cavern. But Brew is right there in his father’s living room, and his dad asks him to show this young man the ranch. And so Chase sets out to show this newbie how to sink a cedar fence post….

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He turned away and walked to where he’d left the cedar post, fighting a stubborn hard-on. By the time Brew joined him, his new helpmate had removed his shirt completely. His pale chest showed both lack of muscle and his aversion to sunlight. Maybe aversion to manual labor also. Too bad. That’s about to change.

Chase picked up the post and leaned it strategically over the swelling in his jeans.

“Okay, Brew, here’s what you’re gonna do. As soon as we set the post in the hole, you hold it tight and straight. Yes?”

“Tight. Okay. Straight. I’ll try.”

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Chase knew he could easily lift the post, but he waited until Brew was next to him. “On three, we put it in the hole.”

He watched in appreciation as Brew’s muscles seemed to strain and his breath came out a little harsh as they lifted. “Now hold it, while I fill the hole. Then we’ll make sure the wire’s taut on both sides. Good and straight, and tight. Got it?”

“Yeah. I got it straight and tight, Chase. Quit teasing me and do it.”

Then Chase couldn’t help it. He smiled and looked into Brew’s eyes. They were standing close, almost touching.

“Okay.”

Still he didn’t move away, and Brew didn’t drop his eyes. Chase waited until he thought his prick would betray him if he stayed this close. He bent to pick up the shovel and began to fill the hole. He took his time, moving around the other man, quickly adjusting the crotch of his denims while watching the smooth back of Brew’s neck. He saw the muscles on the nape jump a little, and he almost tasted the thin film of sweat at the dark, lustrous hairline, trickling slowly down his shoulders.

~oOo~

After the post is up, Chase is still vicariously enjoying the closeness of his new help-mate.

He stood back a foot from Brew and lavished one last look at the vision of a slender, handsome man holding the erect fencepost as though he was part of it. “That’s enough. That’s good, Brew. You passed.”

As soon as he said it, Chase was pissed at himself. This guy Brew was way too smart—and smart-assed—to let a statement like that go by without challenge.

He walked a few feet away. Brew moved next to him.

“Passed. Passed what, Chase?”

He looked again into the other man’s eyes. “Never mind. That’s enough for the day.” He knew they needed to straighten a bunch of other posts, too, but something stopped him from mentioning it.

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“No. You were testing me. What grade did you give me?”

He shook his head and lied. “No grade.”

But Brew would not let go of his eyes. “Then let’s repair another post. Let’s brand a calf. Let’s…let’s do what ranchers do. And you test me on it.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

“I’m not pissed. I’m fucking turned on. Can’t you tell?”

His voice was low. Perfectly cadenced and…yes, sexy as hell. Brew moved to within six inches of him, and Chase began to sweat. How had he let this happen? He had never felt so aroused and he couldn’t understand it in the least. He was suddenly a little scared.

“Time to go.” He turned and walked to the security of his dusty midnight blue truck. When he got in and looked to the fence line, Brew was still standing there. Just standing, looking at him.

~oOo~

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Yeah, both men are turned on by each other. But Chase is unwilling—or unable—to admit the truth. And now he’ll have to spend the summer working next to a man who brings sweat to his palms and an unyielding timber to the crotch of his pants. Hell, how is he supposed to cope with a fantasy, when that dream is standing in front of him with a visible hard-on?chase  200 flip

The next time I post an excerpt, I’ll show you what happens a little later that day, after they get back to the ranch house and Chase’s dad leaves for town.

The Chase is available widely. The link to the series is here:

~Noble Dimensions series

http://amzn.to/2EqIsqs 

June 13, 2013
I promised an excerpt from the book, after Roy Grayson leaves for town with the two horny young guys watching him roll down the driveway. What in the world could happen, now that they have some time alone?
~^~

They left the dining room and went to the hall. Mr. Grayson pulled a grey Stetson off a battered hat rack, settled it over his straw-colored mat of hair, and left. Brew stood by the door, uncertain what to do next, watching Chase’s dad take off in a black Suburban.

“Wait a sec, Brew. Be right back.”

Chase left the hallway and disappeared through a side door. When he returned, he was carrying a tattered excuse for a cowboy hat, a singlet and some kind of denims rolled into a ball.

“These were mine, um, a few years back. They might fit you.”

“Thanks, dude. I’ll join you in the truck in a couple minutes. Okay?”

“Yes.” Chase stood in the hall, hands at his sides, quietly watching him.

Brew could feel a flush start in his neck and run up into his cheeks. “Where can I change?”

Chase gestured to the door he had just emerged from. “You can use my room.”

Now or never. “Come with me.”

“Okay.”

The room was spacious, pine wood-paneled, hung with Navajo blankets and adorned with arrowhead display shadow boxes. A large desk, some kind of dark wood, held a Mac desktop computer and a stack of books. Brew noticed that the bed was over-sized, too. Big enough to fit a king, and his whole goddamn entourage besides.

Brew began to unbuckle his turquoise-studded belt. “Okay if I just drop my drawers?” He smiled into Chase’s eyes. They’d lost the paleness they had a while ago. A trick of the light. Now they seemed green as the mossy bottom of a wooded pond. Quiet, still, waiting.

“Yes.”

Looking into Chase’s eyes, unbuttoning his jeans, knowing the huge bed was just behind him—all of it hit him at once, and his prick jammed into second gear, then third, heading for home. He had a hard time pushing the jeans down over his briefs, tangling them up on his crotch, watching Chase watch him.

Finally, Brew just let his jeans fall. Chase stepped a foot closer to him. He had to lift his head a little, and Chase lowered his own. They were so close now that he felt the man’s hot breath in his mouth, the soft cobwebs of his whiskers brushing his chin…

“Shit, Chase, I’ve wanted you since I was old enough to crave a man.” He began to lick Chase’s lower lip, then bite a little. Chase parted his lips, and Brew slipped his tongue inside.

Brew held Chase’s stubbly cheeks in both hands, slowly discovering his mouth, while the other man let him explore. His hands were still at his sides, as though he didn’t know where to put them. Their bodies by now were so close their groins rubbed and ground together, performing their own counter rhythm. “Kiss me,” he said against the tall man’s hot tongue. “Oh, fuck, Chase, kiss me. I want you.”leviskisswow 220

He began to suck on Chase’s tongue, softly, in rhythm with the hard pulse in his throat, and he put his hands up under the wife-beater. His fingers found the man’s erect nipples. He pulled on them a little as his tongue searched the inside of his mouth. Then Chase was in his own mouth, a sudden jab of molten heat, and his tongue seemed to reach the back of his throat. Now Chase’s hands were on his back, massaging, stroking, descending to his hips. His large hands seized his buttocks, then spread them, until Brew felt he was on the edge of a desperate climax.

The bed was behind him, close. Brew sat, bringing his mouth down Chase’s chest as he did, moving his hands around to grasp his butt cheeks. “Just stand there. Let me suck you.”

Chase fumbled with the top button of his raggedy denims, and Brew helped him. He pulled the zipper all the way down. “Let me. Let me.”

The cock that reared from his pants was almost frightening. Brew had never seen one so big, so marbled with veins. He took the time to edge Chase’s pants down over his hips, inch by inch, stroking the man’s flat-muscled ass cheeks. He held off putting the cock in his mouth. Let it be my reward, my all-day sucker. Oh God in heaven, I want this man.

He heard Chase’s tortured breathing and looked up into his face.

“Do it, Brew. I need you. Now.”

Brew started with his index finger in Chase’s asshole. He slid it in easily, wiggling and moving it as he entered and kept going. The other man jumped a little, not expecting the intrusion. “Hey.”

“Shhh, shush. Let me take you, big guy. Just relax.” He slid in the next finger. Chase had begun to let out small, inarticulate sounds, and he moved his legs apart farther as Brew searched his anus. Pushing in and then retreating, very slowly, Brew began to coordinate his fingers with his tongue. He started at the balls, pulling them almost entirely into his mouth before letting them spill out in gobs of spit.

That’s all for today, folks. Tune in to ths blog for more excerpts from Erin’s novels, historical and contemporary. Let me know what you think of the books.

I recently discovered that my roots go back to Scotland, to Clan MacGregor. That venerable clan has a reliable claim to be the most ancient of them all, having sprung from the Pictish blood of Alpin, Scotland’s first king. Fascinating!

In spite of its honorable birth, for almost 200 years the MacGregor family was almost obliterated…not their lives, but their name and reputation. Och, ’tis a long story, but the near abolishment of their name can be laid directly at the hands—and brains—of another clan, the Campbells.

In addition—during a period from the 1740s to the 1780s—no clan was allowed to bear arms, wear a tartan, even blow into a bagpipe. These and other acts were England’s attempt to stifle the Jacobite rebellion and the Catholic (non-Protestant) sentiments of the time.

Into this period of repression, in the year 1772, I drop a few protagonists, and I try to tell a bright love story…

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Grier Black, whose true name is Gregory MacGregor, is a moody and angry man—a Highlander who cannot claim his name, who is not allowed to don a kilt, who cannot carry any weapon larger than a small non-metal knife. To make matters worse, his father has been killed  by—whom? King’s men? Enemy Campbells? His life is one of lawless rebellion and perpetual resentment.

Iain Stewart is Grier’s uncle. He’s twenty years older, several years’ worth  of university training more “civilized,” but just as deadly in his own way. From the time his brother was killed and his wife abducted, he has sworn to right old wrongs and to reinstate his clan’s honor. As a practicing solicitor, he operates above and below the law in Edinburgh.

David Campbell is a Quaker-trained young man whose father runs a successful print shop in Philadelphia. But his quiet life is turned upside down when he’s forced to escape the mindless cruelty of a group of Redcoat soldiers and ends up in the hands of a Dutch ship’s captain and a lecherous opportunist. He finally finds himself surrounded by strangers on a verra strange shore…the country of bonnie auld Scotland.

Here’s an excerpt from the novel…the chapter after Grier has just met a foreigner named David. From that moment on, all former bets are off…

>>>Chapter Eight<<<
Interlude

David was in turn mystified, charmed, saddened, and choked with desperate desire. Long he lay in the pallet, tossing on the hard bed redolent of unseen mountains, cupping himself, wondering at the way his small world had become a universe of possibilities.

I want him to desire me…in a different way from Archer…the way I have sometimes dreamed. In the way of David and Jonathan…the same way I want him.

Once, with his far away associate Alan, he had thrilled to the light touch of another man. That was an infinity ago, in a time and place forever lost, and it had lasted mere moments. This new excitement would not leave his flesh, or his fantasies.

He is to be my trainer, hardly my lover. He comes to this place to find women. He lives and thinks at cross-purposes to my own beliefs. Be careful, David.

But he could not expunge from his mind the thought of touching and kissing Grier Black. Yes, a black fox. He thought about the words he had read in Shakespeare…Lean and hungry.

Finally, testicles swollen, throbbing with the pain of holding back, he stroked himself until his hands were wet with spilled longing, and then he slept.

~o~

Grier could not sleep. He had unrolled his saddle blanket near Corbie, where his stallion stood in a half-doze. The large animal would lie down later, when deep sleep pulled him to the fragrant new grass.

He lay on his back gazing at the same stars and the same moon he and David had seen half an hour ago. Then, the sky had shimmered with the kind of light he had rarely seen. It had been a canopy of unknown and unknowable mystery, in a singular moment of peace.

He tried to forget the image of the flaxen-haired young man bent like a crescent moon over a reflecting pool…his comely buttocks flexing in mute acceptance of his own renegade eyes…

Stop, Gregory MacGregor. The lad is an innocent in a world of corrupt men.

Never, in all the years he had desired other men, never before had he made love with his tone of voice and the inflections of his speech, with the silent language of his body. He was too restless, too much in a hurry to find the next moor and drink from the burn that lay just over the next hill. He was always trying to escape…something. Some wayward phantom that had never revealed itself.

Och, he had never showed himself so openly…not until tonight. Now, turning once more onto his stomach, he cursed himself—again—for his obvious show of lust to a boy who had already suffered the worst of vile humanity.

Let it go. Let sleep come…

You can find Unkilted at one of these fine ebook vendors…

Amazon https://amzn.to/2BVJ5rj
Sea to Sky https://bit.ly/2R5wDzB 
Smashwords https://bit.ly/2StIFzn unk use this banner

Och, it took months of research and some dedicated writing. But my love affair with Scotland’s Highlands and its tall dark city called Edinburgh has reached another level.

The work is titled Unkilted. I wrote it as “Book I: The Renegade and the Runaway,” a two-novel adventure. But it may go beyond those bounds. We’ll see.

The novel traces what might have happened to three men in 1772, the eve of America’s war with King George III and the aftermath of Scotland’s costly Battle of Culloden in 1746. After that final clash of Redcoats and Jacobites, Highlanders lost their kilts, their weapons, and their way of life.

I hope readers will find an engaging story, with interesting protagonists, shifting POVs, some humor, history, authentic language, flawed heroes…. You know. The usual suspects.

It’s an enemies-to-lovers tale, a slow-burn love story. Here’s the proposed introduction:

Gregory MacGregor is a Highlander, a moody, angry outlaw who calls himself Grier Black. The British crown has taken his clan name, his tartan, his dagger, and his very honor. His mission in life is one of lawless rebellion.

Iain Stewart is Grier’s uncle, a man who has lost both his brother and his beloved wife. He lives apart from his family in the tall dark city of Edinburgh, where he follows his wits and instincts to help the survival of his clan.

On the eve of a revolution, David Campbell, son of a Colonial American printer, falls afoul of occupying Redcoats. He runs straight into the hands of a ship’s captain and a lecherous opportunist. Weeks later, he finds himself in a place of peril far from home, surrounded by strangers named MacGregor who despise all Campbells.

…And all hell breaks loose before heaven can intervene.

Look for Unkilted soon after the new year.

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A sneak peek at radge walloper (aka crazy fucker) Erin O’Quinn’s new work in progress.

Footprints in the wind

I have long been in thrall to bonnie Scotland: her language, music, history, people, mythos, traditions. And I found recently that I’m descended from Clan MacGregor, a family that had its shares of ups and downs. (I refer you to a recent article I published on another blog site, Celtic Fire, called “Children of the Mist”: https://bit.ly/2OS4kzH).

So, what could be more natural than a novel about a MacGregor?

Here’s a tentative blurb and a fanciful cover, which I shall *not use:

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One man is stripped of his name, his tartan, and his weapon. Another is torn from his very homeland, forced to live in danger and deceit. What happens when an unkilted Scot meets a runaway Colonial Quaker?

Can Grier and Will, born enemies, live together? Fight together? Can they combine the best of themselves and set aside the grief of their past? The future of bonnie Scotland…

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I’ve just published a new work, SLEEPING WITH DANGER, in which the native Nevadan Alex Dominguez finally goes back to the mountains…the famed Highlands of his new home.

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The novel is fraught with danger. Both Alex and Rory almost lose their lives a few times. But no adventure in the series up to this point is as life-threatening as their headlong plummet down the double-hairpin called Devil’s Elbow, now bypassed, but a scourge to travelers in the Cairngorms for more than 200 years.

What follows is told from the point of view of Rory Drummond, the bigger-than-life Scot who would challenge the horns, the tail and the very prick of the Devil himself for the sake of his lover.

His head hit something hard…or was it the other way around? A gawdawful roar filled his ears. He opened his eyes and saw nothing at all.

Foog!

Something like mud caked his lashes, sealing his eyes, and he tried to grind it away with the knuckle of his right hand, but his hand was pinned under…something. The left hand would not respond to his brain’s command. He asked Alex where in bloody hell they were going, but he couldn’t hear his own words.

When he tried to move his head, a white-hot pain shot from the base of his neck to hisforehead. His stomach lurched. Vomitus filled his mouth.

And then he heard a beloved voice.

“Gang warily. I love you.”

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An eternity passed while he thought about his rare good fortune. Finding a mate who thrived on danger. Fucking a man who loved his touch. Loving a bloody sodding fool who thought he could drive to hell and screw the devil.

In spite of his intense resolve to sit up and take the wheel, for some reason he decided to take a short nap. He’d do it later, when he could see and feel and…and think…

When sleep came, he welcomed it.

Someone was slapping his face. He lunged, bellowing like a wounded grizzly.

“Rory… Rory! Calm down, for fuck’s sake. I need you.”

“Al-Alex?”

His cheeks were being gentled by strong hands, and he stopped struggling. “Alex. I think I died a little while ago.”

“We both did. But wings grow back, corazón. Mi ángel. Let’s get out of here. We need to help Dandie.”

He felt Alex wiping the mud from his eyes, his fingers tender, loaded with something wet. Spit and tears. When he could make his eyelids open, he saw—what? A broken windshield, a steering wheel sitting in an odd place…or was that the outside world at a right angle to the Jeep?

Those who follow my writing know that my series novels all enjoy their own Kindle series page on Amazon. Here’s the link  for the NEVADA HIGHLANDER series:

SWD Zon 2

https://tinyurl.com/y89ca2p9  

 

Erin O’Quinn’s Nevada Highlander series is unique: M/M adventure from Nevada to Scotland, with an emphasis on action, plot, and character.

I’m always careful to  make each novel a stand-alone, appealing to the reader who comes across the series maybe somehere in the middle and wants to jump in without a lot of prior reading. In that spirit, the opening chapters of each successive story  will contain enough background that anyone can easily understand the present one.

Here’s a thumbnail of the series:

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Nevada Highlander: A big game hunt in the mountains of Nevada attracts two opposite men:A Scottish tourist—handsome playboy Rory Drummond—and shy, serious Nevada State Trooper Alex Dominguez, the man set on his tail to keep him in line. When the two men find each other irresistible, sparks and Levi’s fly!

The Kilt Complex: Ex-cop Alex finds himself on the cold shore of the North Sea, festering in the “boy toy” role of his well-meaning lover Rory. When Alex breaks out of the mold, declaring his own identity, both men find themselves embroiled in a case of extortion and murder—one that will test their new relationship to the max.

Hunter’s Point: The former Nevada cop is now a Police Scotland special constable. On the eve of Scotland’s passing its same-sex marriage bill, Rory and Alex have more pressing matters to confront: a drowned local teacher, an evil shadow from Rory’s past, and a killer who’s targeted both of them. The drama plays out on a stretch of lonely, beautiful land where only the fittest will survive.

Sleeping with Danger: When Rory and Alex find their ideal getaway—a remote aerie in the Highlands—they also find a few devils have poked leathery wings into their heaven in the form of kidnapping, extortion, and murder most foul. On the trail of a missing man, they find a Jacobite tower hiding recent violence…a 300-year-old elbow of the devil…and a graveyard whose crumbling bones cover old secrets worth killing for.

 

Through each book, the relationship between the Scot and the cop is both the fuse and the bomb, as each story explodes in passion and heart-rattling action.

The Kindle series is here: http://amzn.to/2kZE8VU 

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In this latest novel, an old friend of Rory’s father is missing. The Scot and his constable lover gain permission to  go to the Highlands juristiction of Police Scotland to search for him. What they find is chilling; and what happens to them nearly costs them their lives.

Here’s an explicit excerpt from an early chapter, on the verge of their trip…

Using the edges of the tub, he hauled himself out of the soapy water and stood looking down at his kneeling companion. “Lie back, Rory. And face me. Now.”

He could not explain a sudden need to take this dominant man, make him shout until he was hoarse.

“Is that an order, Alejo?”

“Si, cabrón.”

Rory’s mustache lifted under an evil smile. “Gang warily.”

The Drummond Clan cry, the one Rory had directed to be engraved on their rings. Go carefully.

“Raise your legs to my shoulders, love. And I promise I’ll go, and come warily too.”

SWD Zon 2They rarely fucked in the missionary position—mainly because Rory was usually too impatient to turn him on his ass instead of his belly. Also because the big guy invariably struggled for dominant position.

But tonight Alex was a beast. He was willing to crack the goddamn marble tub to get his way.

“A highland fuck, Rory. Legs up. A ride to the peak.”

He saw the smolder in the man’s sea-green eyes, knew him well enough to sense the moment of surrender.

He knelt between Rory’s raised thighs and leaned into his mouth. His prick knew the way well enough, below the swollen testes, past the taint, into the cumberland gap, up the trail of tears…

He timed his tongue-sucks with his measured thrusts. Once or twice he pulled away from the open mouth to watch the face, the way his partner’s glazed-over eyes rolled back…loving the slack of his jaw, the grunts of desire, the chipped-flint of his nipples.

When he could not hold back, when Rory’s tunnel began to buck and shiver and jump, when he heard the guttural bellow of his lover’s release, he came in a cascade of hot need.

 

Amazon:  https://amzn.to/2wDrhP0  

SeaToSky: https://bit.ly/2wyZcbQ

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Angry sex

Close to halfway through Sleeping with Danger…Rory and Alex encounter mystery piled upon mystery, signs of violence and tenderness too, while searching for traces of a missing man. Both of them are profoundly affected by their discoveries. In this passage, anger and sorrow come to  the surface, even as they explode in passion.

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Their kiss was savage. Alex seized his lower lip and bit, hard, while gripping his hair at the scalp. Surprised, Rory grabbed his wrists; but his lover, wild and struggling, would not let go. Dropping to his knees, he sank onto the sleeping bag, bringing Alex down with him.

You want blood, lad? I’ll give you blood.

Seizing his upper arms, he forced the struggling man onto his stomach and sat on him. Panting and cursing, he leaned over Alex’s back and sank his teeth into the muscle mass over his shoulder blade while holding the straining butt cheeks in the vise of his thighs.

He moaned with the pleasure of the coppery tang in his mouth and the guttural shout from the one underneath him, astonished at the weight of his erection, loving the fierce tight urgency of his own balls, ready to explode all over the man’s goddamn back.

“I swear my cock will rip your ass in two, Alex. Stop fighting me.”

Alex’s buttocks stopped bucking. Off guard, he leaned down to tongue the asshole. Alex exploded in a cyclone of cursing, rearing, trying to roll over, failing, cursing more.

Chíngate! Fuck you, leave me alone!” He was sobbing, shouting, feral in his anger…so irresistible Rory almost shot cum before his cock could find a hot home inside his ass.

And when he found the hole, he rammed. Hard. Relentless, angry now too, he laughed and wept at the same time.

“Fuck you too, corazón, you bastard, you fucking hot-ass, fuck you all the way to your goddamn tailbone.”

They both came in a hoarse, wordless torrent of bloody spit and cum.

After a very long time, he heard Alex mutter, “Your father will kill us both when he sees this sleeping bag.”

“I love you too, Alejo. Get some sleep.”

nvhi kiss paradise no text=pizap.com14299206306591

thistles 3

Don’t miss the first three Nevada Highlander novels!
http://amzn.to/2kZE8VU 

cop logo 2Every once in a  while I toss a promo into my blog sites. Why? Because author = penniless. 😀

I could also use a review or two from you awesome readers. My work is thoughtful, plotful, and pretty damn hot.

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Three sexy, action packed and character-driven series from Erin O’Quinn.

THE GASLIGHT MYSTERIES: Two private dicks in Ireland’s roaring twenties stalk criminals—and the wild four-poster. http://amzn.to/2CZsBxm

BURNS! MYSTERIES: An undercover cop meets a mysterious man running from the law. What could be wrong with finding Mr. Right? http://amzn.to/2BRlmIn

NEVADA HIGHLANDER: A Scot with serious swag teams up with a Nevada cop. Sparks and Levi’s fly! http://amzn.to/2kZE8VU

The links take you to a Kindle Series page on Amazon. Other links available on request.

#MM #erotic #romance #mystery #action- #adventure

SLEEPING WITH DANGER is in progress!

Note that the capstone novel of the Burns! series is not listed in Amazon’s series link, because it’s not a novella. That link is here

COME AGAIN, MY LOVE:
http://amzn.to/2iWI0Zt

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