Posts Tagged ‘Erin O’Quinn author’

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

Smashwords: https://bit.ly/2wyZcbQ  

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I’m thrilled to be chosen for an author spotlight on the UK internet publication Divine Magazine. Edited by acclaimed M/M author Susan MacNicol, it’s marketed to the GLBT community across the pond and here in the USA. You can to directly to the article where you’ll find other gay-centered authors, news, and entertainment:


….Or you can read it here, now. Or both!

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I created my pen name, Erin O’Quinn, because it reflected a life-long infatuation with Ireland. But my real name is Bonita Franks…“Bonita” because my father loved everything Hispanic! I was born almost on the side of a mountain in Nevada, a miner’s daughter. I never lost my fierce love for raw nature and the pioneer spirit, both of which show up in my work. Now retired, I live in a rural environment in Texas, surrounded by cats, cedars, and very wild flowers.

[So, what have you written?] and [How many books to your series?]

I have 37 titles—novels, novellas, and a few short stories—all but ten in the M/M genre of GLBTQ-themed lit. The following graphic shows those M/M works. To make for an easy grouping, I divide them into three sets: those centered in Ireland (9), Scotland (13), and Nevada (5).

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In four novels, I journeyed back into the “pre-history” of Old World Ireland and Scotland, back to the time of St. Patrick himself. One of those works is Stag Heart, my latest novel and the one I’m highlighting today.

Stag Heart is the natural follow-up to Warrior, Come Again—the story of five men who reluctantly return to Cambria, northern Britannia, in pursuit of something very personal. So you could say that my featured book is the fourth in a series, but it’s definitely a stand-alone.

[How has your writing evolved since your first book?]

My first gay lit effort was a two-series historical work I call “The Iron Warrior,” written for a publisher, for which the contract has since expired. When those two novels were freed from bondage late last year, I re-wrote, re-formatted and re-covered them; then I wrote a much-needed third novel and published all three of them with my own “company,” New Dawn Press. Those works are

Warrior, Ride Hard

Warrior, Stand Tall

Warrior, Come Again

Those first two books were rife with sex…what the publisher demanded…which I toned down when I held the editorial and publisher whip hand! By the time I wrote the third one last November, the sex had become only part of the tapestry, although of course central to the main characters’ odyssey. And when I penned Stag Heart (in the same universe) a few months go, I allowed the sexual content to be just as vital and yet not the driving force of the book.

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How else has my writing changed? I find I am much more lyrical, even sometimes poetic. I have evolved a keen ear for dialog, and a sharp eye for the natural world around my characters. Those “talents” have always been there in my writing; but now I strive for them—a certain cadence and rhythm, a subtlety of language missing in my early efforts.

The last important way I’ve changed is the use of humor. Oh, the comedic was always around. But now, every work is rife with irony and tongue-in-cheek humor.

[Five things people wouldn’t know about me] and [What places are on my Bucket List?]

Stepping back for a moment from the literary side of Erin O’Quinn, I thought I’d reveal a few deep, dark secrets about myself. 

I actually like spiders.

I cannot find my way on my own street.

I once sold Volvos and Saabs literally in a forest in Germany.

I taught college English for about five years.

My favorite job was driving a forklift and hauling pallets for a garden shop.

And l have a few places on my Bucket List, in no particular order:

Edinburgh, Scotland (the hub of my time-travel M/M novel Come Again, My Love)

Inishowen, Ireland (the crux of some early novels)

Stirling Castle, Scotland (especially the Unicorn Tapestries, which I’ve seen only in my novella The Unicorn’s Secret)


[What do you think makes your book stand out from the crowd?]

Today I want to talk about my most recent novel, Stag Heart. 

It’s definitely not a cookie-cutter kind of book. First, it’s set 1500 years ago, on Ireland’s sacred Hill of Tara. But the shenanigans and the intrigue are anything but sacred! What happens when a wilding, a natural soul, is thrown together with the bad-boy son of a king? What could go wrong…?

I managed to write this novel in three distinct voices, each man having his own pov in alternating chapters.

~Dub, an actual historical figure, is the warrior-scholar ollamh or wise man to Leary, a real historical high king in the mid-fifth century. He was baptized by Patrick himself and has a certain spiritual gravitas.

~Oisean, a complete innocent with the heart of a young wild animal, is the brother of Dub’s dead wife. He’s a young man whom Dub brought back to Tara at the end of Warrior, Come Again and who’s now living with Dub and his twelve-year-old son.

~Fergus is a drunk and a rogue, the youngest son of King Leary. Circumstances force him to train with Dub, to live in his household. And his sexual preference is clearly for his own—sex, that is!

The conflict (and tension) in the story is clear. Dub is tasked with training the king’s son. But the king’s son has a strong attraction to his brother-in-law, the wilding Oisean, against Dub’s express orders. And to make the conflict even more ironic—unknown even to him, Fergus is on a secret mission whose purpose is to assassinate Dub.

My biggest challenge in writing this novel was not just the juggling of three distinct points of view. The pov of Oisean had to reflect his unschooled, utterly alien understanding of the “civilized” world he’s now facing….and the unfamiliar pull of intense sexual excitement…in words that are simple yet evocative.

This brief excerpt may give a sense of Oisean, his way of seeing his  new world, and his confusion about the smoldering sexuality of another young man.

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Their eating ritual was different tonight. They ate where they sat, cross-legged in a circle, the same as always. But instead of taking up their food with their fingers, Dub showed them how to use a metal object to take it from the trencher to their mouth. 

Oisean understood without asking. Because of our guest.

The man named Fergus seemed to ask a bird-sky full of questions with his strange eyes, but he said nothing. Not wanting to stop the music that sounded sweet here, deep inside the heart place, Oisean stayed quiet also. But he could not take his eyes from their guest.

Fergus was shorter than himself, by half a hand. His hair seemed to shelter fire and sunbeams among the acorn-brown strands. From time to time, he pushed it from his brow with the thumb of his left hand. His shoulders did not show the same swells and ridges as his stag-brethren, and Oisean guessed he did not use his bow very often. His face was pleasant to look at, with its neat little nest of red-brown hair on his chin and his upper lip. Not very often, his mouth seemed to crook in an unwilling smile, like a child who knows not whether to laugh or cry.

How different he is from Drust, with his storm of hair…or Brenn, raven-black of eye and mind…or my other stag-brethren.

The guest kept his eyes on his food, but sometimes he looked up. When that happened, not once but twice, Oisean felt an arrow pierce his deepest core, lower than his belly…

His eyes were not just brown, but dappled like stones in a river bed—where flashes of gold and green and sable seemed to mingle and flare, like dancers before a ritual flame.

The second time, he dropped the metal thing in confusion. His thoughts had never been so…so full of dreams.


Thank you kindly for allowing me to take a  bow. You’ll find my social media and links to my works here:

Erin O’Quinn’s author pages:

Kindle US http://amzn.to/1w8PVgI

Kindle UK http://amzn.to/24BcIcj

*Queer Romance Ink http://bit.ly/2mnG1hL  (links, reviews, etc.)

Sea to Sky http://bit.ly/2lJ72bd (epub or pdf links, excerpts)

Smashwords http://bit.ly/1s3cf1q  (epub)

*QRI is the best because everything is there at a click. You just have to wait a few moments for the data to kick in!

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Facebook main page https://www.facebook.com/bonita.franks 

Facebook author page https://www.facebook.com/ErinOQuinnEroticWriting/ 

Twitter https://twitter.com/erinoquinn_erin 

Blog “The Man in Romance” https://romancemanlove.wordpress.com

Blog “Ac´cent Gay Lit Authors” https://gaylitauthors.wordpress.com

Blog “Gaslight M/Mysteries” https://caitlinfire.wordpress.com

Novel Stag Heart, blurb:

What happens when an innocent, natural soul is thrown together with a highly attractive but morally corrupt young man?

Stag Heart tells the intertwined story of three men.

Dub is a scholar-warrior seeking inner peace in an often brutal world.

Fergus is the bad boy son of a king who needs to learn how to become a man.

Oisean is an innocent, a wilding whose soul stirs in rhythm with raw nature.

These three are forced by circumstance to live and learn and finally survive together on Ireland’s sacred Hill of Tara, where mischief and mayhem lie hidden by ancient stones.

An M/M historical romance fantasy-adventure

Purchase links:

It’s all here at QRI:  https://is.gd/bQK5lo  (all links, reviews, explicit excerpt)


Kindle US https://is.gd/G6elnN  

Kindle UK https://is.gd/ocon0O  

SeaToSky https://is.gd/MrfeiG (pdf or epub)

Smashwords https://is.gd/vU7yxi (epub)


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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
*Bitch…Effeminate or passive gay male
*Blag…a pick-up
*Brandy… cum (ejaculate), or pre-cum

*Cod…Vile, nasty, naff
Dilly boy..Male prostitute
Dish…Butt, buttocks
Drag…Clothes, esp. women’s clothes
*Kaffies…Baggy trousers
Naff…Ugly, vile, hetero (“not available for fucking”)
*Omi-palone…Homosexual man
*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!


Erin’s Blogs: check ’em out!

The Man in Romance: (what you’re now reading)

The Gaslight M/Mysteries:

Celtic Fire:

Ac’cent Gay Lit Authors:

Footprints in the Wind:





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Let me start by introducing Alex Dominguez and Rory Drummond by way of a couple of images. They’ll form in your imagination soon enough, I hope, as you read the opening words of Sleeping with Danger (all new, Nevada Highlander 4).

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~~~Chapter 1~~~
In the Arms of the North Sea

Montrose Promontory
Angus, Scotland
Friday, April 5, 2014

Alex slowed his mountain bike to a wobbly roll and finally braked to a complete stop. The worn leather seat jutted from his groin like a tired but still serviceable cock. He grinned down at it, thinking about this morning with Rory, and shifted his gaze to the shimmer and blur of blue where the waters of Montrose Harbor met the vast canopy of sky.

“Suck my balls, Alejo.”

He’d awakened to the musky smell and velvet fist of his lover’s sac thrust in his face. Still full of sleep, abruptly aroused, he’d groped for Rory’s ass cheeks and opened his mouth, letting the testicles invade the inside of his cheeks. Slobbering and spitting, he let them slide out, then sucked them inside again while his fingers found his lover’s asshole.

“Rory…let mmph…”

“Quiet, lad. Now the cock.”

A week ago, Spring had hit Scotland’s east coast in a rush of temperate days and cloudless skies. From what Alex read on the net and heard in the conversations around him, the only place in Scotland still ass-numbing cold was the only place he’d rather be—in the Highlands. In the highest and probably most beautiful spot in his adopted country. In the Cairngorms.

Almost six months ago, following Rory, he’d left his beloved Snake Range in Nevada’s high desert. Not that he’d spent a lot of time there since he was a kid. But those stark glacial peaks had a grip on his psyche that he now recognized. Only now, after leaving them far behind.

Using the pedal as a fulcrum, he jumped from the bike and flicked the kickstand, letting it sit like a good dog on the side of the narrow path while he ambled to the steep roadside and lost himself, as usual, in a flood of raw beauty.

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These are actual pictures of Montrose Promontory with its iconic lighthouse, built back in the 1800s and saving ships from the arms of the North Sea ever since.

Montrose promontory lay before him like a thumb jutting into the North Sea, its tip punctuated by the lighthouse. Using the rocks as footholds, he walked a ways down the bluff, closer to the sea. Now, at low tide, Alex turned his gaze from the land and looked down at the foaming tide pools left by retreating waves. His eyes followed the seabirds sweeping in for their prize, shellfish left every twelve hours by the ocean’s circadian promise.

He stood erect, letting the wind buffet him, thinking about the odd fact of a Nevada highlander embracing the Scurdie Ness headland on Scotland’s eastern shore, five thousand miles from home. Correction: what used to be his home.

His mind flicked over the past few weeks, how a tide pool like one of these had led to a killer and his own near demise. And Rory… He’d put his own fiancé in a dangerous trap then, and on other occasions too.

Por diós. My fault, for being a cop. Anything and everything’s a clue. Every face might hide a criminal.

He wondered for the millionth time whether he was doing the right thing. Two months ago he’d agreed to marry the man he adored. But would marriage put Rory in the crosshairs again…and again, and again? Would the tough Scot end up being another victim of his lover’s relentless cop-heart?

The Scurdie Ness Mess. That’s what the local online newspapers called it. He and Rory had escaped with no more than a few scars—Rory on his muscled chest, where he’d crawled like a snake for a kilometer. And Alex? There was still a dull ache in his fingers and on his kneecaps too, still swollen and stiff from—

“Yo! Alex, right?”

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice behind him. As much as he craved solitude, he liked the man who’d spoken his name, and he turned with a smile. The bony youngish man had taken the incline like a pro. Hell, Alex hadn’t even heard his approach. Or I’m getting old before my time…

“Good to see you, Peter James. Or James Peter. Were you named after two favorite uncles?” He stretched out his hand and let the other man pump it.

“Hilarious. The kids in school had a blast with ‘Peter,’ but I outgrew them, and Nebraska too. How’ve you been, Alex? I haven’t seen you since—”

“Since the mess. Um, the Scurdie Ness case. Did I ever thank you for your role in tracking down a killer, Peter? I owe you a big one.”

Peter shook his head, letting a hank of straight brown hair fall across his lively eyes. “Fuck that, Alex. All I did was show you my photo files.”

The tall, lanky midwesterner had an infectious grin, and an easy way about himself that Alex liked.

“That was huge. Your photos cracked the case.”

Peter, thumbing back the fugitive lock with a bony thumb, laughed out loud. “Yeah, because you looked past the crap into the facts.”

“Anyway, Peter, how come you’re away from the Reserve this morning?”

The photographer, not paid by the Montrose Basin Wildlife Reserve, was actually their best wildographer, a term he’d learned from Peter himself. Alex had seen his work. The man could make his feathered subjects fly off the page. 

yellow-browed warbler

This photo of a yellow-browed warbler was taken in Scotland, photographer unknown.

“Day off, kinda. I should be home sleeping in, or sucking up java, or working on my computer files. But the warm weather and all… I thought today would be a good time to shoot some stuff for myself.”

Alex had already noticed a compact leather case slung over his shoulder with a long strap and figured it was a digital camera. Peter lived in a dump, but his equipment was top-notch.

“What about you, Alex? Here on police business, or…?”

“I come out here maybe three days out of seven. Four at the most. No set days. A Special Constable is not so special, Peter. But at least they let me set my own schedule.”

“And pay you a little more than I get paid—bird shit.”

They both cracked up. It was true. Peter worked for the love of wildlife, the hope that someday his tagline on the web would attract more than fleeting praise. And Alex was a former Nevada State Trooper, new to Scotland, who’d pretty much lucked into this rent-a-cop gig on the promontory. The money he got was minuscule, barely enough to cover the non-rent on his non-home. The thought made his mouth twitch a little, and he turned his head, pretending to gaze out at the harbor.

“Not trying to be too personal Alex. But I was wondering if you and Rory, um, if you guys have set a date.”

He turned his head and allowed his eyes to smile along with his mouth. “Paperwork. We’re drowning in paperwork. Just because the Parliament said it was okay to have same-sex marriages, that doesn’t mean Scotland is ready for us. They seem to have their heads up their asses. We have to register, then wait. Then fill out more forms, and wait some more. Hell, Peter, we’ve gotten word that no marriages at all will be granted until the end of the year.”

“Ouch. Because they’re stalling? Or because they just don’t know how to handle the rush?”

He grinned. This guy was straight, but he was cool. 

They stood in silence for awhile, soaking up the rare morning sun, allowing the salt wind to lift their hair in cartwheels and somersaults.

“Alex? Everything okay?”

“Absolutely, my friend. I was just thinking… One of these nights, I’d like you  to come over to the—to Castle Drummond for dinner. You’ll like Rory’s parents. And I promise to keep Thistle from devouring your shirt tail. Or worse. How ’bout it?”

“Damn. I’d love that. It’ll be good to see Rory again. I liked your wolfhound too. She’s a beauty.”

Hoping he wasn’t being too obvious about the brush-off, he offered his hand again. “Then I’ll give you a call after I check with Rory. Howzat?”

“Can I bring my girlfriend? Well, kind of. She’s a girl, and we’re friends…”

“I’m looking forward to it, Peter.” He meant it. But he had a job to do right now, and stuff he needed to sort out in his head before Rory’s sexy taunts sent him into helpless laughter and his strong arms pulled him again into a frenzy of lust. 

Alex walked ten feet up the embankment and rescued his bike, which had managed to stand upright in the stiff wind. Turning to wave at Peter, he smiled back at the man’s open grin and wave of farewell. He mounted Old Paint—his fond nickname for the cheap refurbished bike—and pedaled up the promontory toward “his” lighthouse.

Damn right Scurdie Ness was his lighthouse, the iron nautilus where he’d managed to trap a determined killer. The famous beacon was part of his beat, actually, a destination for tourists and so a possible target for vandals as well as sight-seers. It loomed ahead of him as he rose and bent forward on the mountain bike, trying to keep the salty sting out of his eyes. 

It was not lost on Alex, that the places he responded to most deeply were high ones. His mountain, Mariah. His lighthouse, the Scurdie Ness. And his personal aerie, Hunter’s Point—not so much high as aloof. Secluded.  He was still amused that he’d thought of Rory as a highlander, when in fact he was a flatlander from Arbroath. The real highlander was Alex Dominguez.

Again he thought of the Cairngorms, Scotland’s answer to his old turf.  As much as he and  his lover had day-tripped in the Scot’s vehicle of the moment, they were holding off a trip to those mountains. Alex thought he needed a good three days just to take it all in—half a week, three whole days in a row that he reckoned his Special Constable job would not allow.

Rory had teased the shit out of him. “Alejo, they don’t even pay you. You have every right to tell Finley she can stick it in her wrinkled—um, she can afford to be without you for two or three days. Och, am I going to marry an old lady, or a real cop?”

But Alex had a work ethic, a dedication to duty he couldn’t seem to shrug off. Even if the “duty” of the moment was helping a poor fisherman prepare smokies, or keeping this road clear of possible trouble-makers…both for pennies a day…once he’d made a promise, it was fossilized in granite, an ancient bristlecone at the treeline of Mt. Mariah.

His smile bit into the wind, and he tried to concentrate on the present. The lighthouse, looming in front of him, and his marriage too…

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The “special” in Special Constable. No, not Alex’s duty uniform.


green thumbtackDon’t stop now! A bit from chapter 2 is on this blog, here: https://bit.ly/2MJfmGT

And eight first-draft chapters (roughly one-third of the novel) are printed starting here:


I almost forgot the cardinal rule of blogging: leave em with a link! Here’s the book that precedes this one, a promo I ran on Facebook today:

The brass balls have become more vulnerable as Rory’s association with Alex proves unsafe at any speed. This is the third NEVADA HIGHLANDER title.

 Sexy and explosive! HUNTER’S POINT: A Scot, a cop, and a killer…at a point of no return.

 As Scotland is about to pass a same-sex marriage bill, two headstrong men have their own problems to solve: a case of murder, a coming to terms with a troubled past, and a possible long-term commitment to each other, even in the face of a third man who apparently would love to end their torrid affair.

 Rory and Alex follow murder clues from the lighthouse complex on Montrose Promontory to one of Scotland’s most prestigious prep schools … while a killer, not content with one victim, waits in a place none would suspect.

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~ What? You haven’t started the Nevada Highlander series? 😉

#gay #erotic #romance #action- #adventure




SLEEPING WITH DANGER—this one, now published!

All four novels on O’Quinn’s kindle series page:


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The Burns! series by Erin O’Quinn: Mysteries wrapped in a unique love affair wrapped in a time warp…

This series started as a comment here and there from readers of my Nevada Highlander trilogy.  A character named Thomas Fitzgerald—blond, blue-eyed, a cop helping out in a district far from his own—this “runaway” Irishman snagged the attention of a lot of people. And so I sat down one day and just started typing.

Thomas has just left Montrose, driving the A92 south to his home base in Dundee, Scotland. He’s tired. His mind wanders to the friends he’s made and the bad guys he’s helped bring to justice. And then something happens that will change his life completely, and the life of a stranger standing alongside the road.

Sharp-eyed readers will find my drafts of the first four chapters in the top of this blog, the writing that became Burns Too Deep, the first of six novellas and a novel.

The response to that first one was explosive. My jaw dropped. I had penned the beginning of a mystery whose answer I had none. But I had won a lot of fans waiting  for a sequel—if any. Would the men find each other again?

burns revus=pizap.com14418486487542 copy

My jaw had dropped, but my pen was handy, so I picked it up again. One novella became two. And as the men’s relationship became more complex, two more followed. Whoa! In all, it took a slow two years before the six-novella set was complete, published one by one as I completed each.

I also pubbed these titles in two box sets later so that folks didn’t have to buy them one by one. But it seems one by one is the more popular choice.

The final two novellas shocked a lot of people. Hell, they shocked me too. The story had become more than a straightforward narrative. Somehow, time itself had warped. Was Burns really gone? And if not, was this “new” Scot, this enigmatic Burns, the same man Thomas had fallen in love with?

The novellas begged for a final resolution. So I settled one last time in front of my keyboard. It was November, the month of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). Now or never. Let these mysteries be resolved at last, by a writer who still had no effing clue how to solve them.

For many of those who’d read the novellas, I think the novel kind of slid past unnoticed. Blame it on my own sickness. And on my poor choice of title/cover. I’ve changed those, and I’m recovered from my illness.

mini correx!

So let me stress here today: the final novel is a tale involving time travel, the gallows, comedy, sex, Poldark-era breeches, a ghastly prison, a lovely home on Rose Street in New Edinburgh…  And a lot more.

It’s definitely one of my best writing efforts and best-researched novels. Give it a try!

CAML newest

Your blurbs and links!

Mysteries wrapped in a unique love affair wrapped in a time warp…


Blond, blue-eyed Thomas Fitzgerald is an undercover cop for Police Scotland. Uneducated, introverted, he hides his good looks under a gawd-awful hoodie, still running from a traumatic boyhood in his native  Ireland. The Scot Burns is a scholar, an impeccable dresser whose smoldering dark features “arrest” the cop completely. But Burns…secretive to a fault…is running from the law. They meet. What could go wrong? And what might finally go right for both of them?

The Burns! Mysteries… In the space of six novellas and one novel, Thomas and Burns experience lust and love, crime and punishment as they swivel from the edge of death to the verge of ecstasy. And back again.

BURNS TOO DEEP: An undercover cop encounters a very desirable man who’s running from the law. What could go wrong?

THE DUNDEE LAW: The men step far too close to a shallow grave, on an ancient burial mound in Dundee.

RED, RED ROSE: Under the roof in a gabled Victorian house in Edinburgh lie old crimes and new desires.

THE DEVIL IN FALKIRK: The men spiral apart, felled by the devil of distrust and misunderstanding.

THE UNICORN’S SECRET: The Hunt for the Unicorn brings someone even closer to the edge of another shallow grave.

THE BURNS ENIGMA: Searching for a man he thought forever lost, Thomas finds that a new lover is even better—and more imperiled— than he could ever imagine.

COME AGAIN, MY LOVE: An old wynd in modern Edinburgh leads to the 18th century, where the two men try to save a man from the gallows. Along the way, they have to confront their own buried secrets…


bo burns final

#gay #erotic #mystery #romance some #paranormal elements

Can be purchased singly on this Kindle series page:

~Burns! Mysteries (6 novellas)


Heat level very high 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Not being a novella, COME AGAIN, MY LOVE is separate, here:

#gay #erotic #romance #mystery #historical #contemporary #timetravel #action #paranormal

Kindle US  http://ow.ly/TeG2307Bj6o





Look for the money-saving #boxsets too!

Box Set 1


Kindle US http://ow.ly/ISpX304tGTg 

Kindle UK http://ow.ly/yuyl304tGHP 

ARe/OmniLit http://ow.ly/2sRi304tH2e (pdf or epub)

Smashwords http://ow.ly/SeLA304tHhR 


Kindle US http://tinyurl.com/h5sm47o  

Kindle UK http://tinyurl.com/jzd7blz   

Inside Romance (epub or pdf) https://insideromance.com/products/burns-box-set-two 

Smashwords http://tinyurl.com/gp7jrnm  (epub) 

Queer Romance Ink https://www.queeromanceink.com/book/burns-box-set-2/


Cover art by Erin O’Quinn, box designs by Alex A. Akira www.alexaakira.org 


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hands in silk 300 copy 2

I think all authors come to a point when we have to decide the critical issue: to escape, or to survive with the pain. Is it time to stop writing and concentrate on some other interest in life? Or have we just begun to peel away the layers on our way to the bone’s marrow?

I have published twenty-seven m/m genre titles. Among them are two short stories, eight novellas, fifteen novels, and two box sets.

Among my titles are five series:

The Iron Warrior  http://amzn.to/2n3sTgh  

The Gaslight Mysteries  http://amzn.to/2CZsBxm  

Nevada Highlander  http://amzn.to/2kZE8VU  

Noble Dimensions   http://amzn.to/2EqIsqs  

Burns! Mysteries  http://amzn.to/2BRlmIn 

Here’s a collage I worked up to show all the titles:

bang 2

Do I continue to write, spinning off the well-conceived characters, or creating even more? I’m tempted to stop altogether, at least in this genre. But the urge to live with these guys is stronger than my physical and mental fatigue.  Michael and Simon, Rory and Alex, Thomas and Burns—these pairs are especially precious to me (and to many readers).

I’ve been toying with an idea for a fourth Nevada Highlander novel. After all, since the guys are now engaged, will they really marry? Or will Alex’s fierce independence eat away at the bond between them? Will Rory’s need to dominate erode their passion? And what about the simple, stark fact of danger? Just being around the intense former state trooper puts Rory in danger. He knows it, he fears it, and he thrives on it.

I’ve put together a very rough cover, based on (as you can see) art filched from a photos-for-sale site. I have the original photos, but that can wait.

swd mockish copy

Ah, you caught me red-handed! If I’ve gone this far, obviously I’m still in love and need to work it out in a final chapter of their story. After all, no one enjoys coitus interruptus

The golden rule of blogging: always leave a link! Here are the links to my work, the author pages where a reader may find the above titles (**and, in some cases, more).

*Queer Romance Ink http://bit.ly/2mnG1hL (links, reviews, etc.)
Sea to Sky http://bit.ly/2lJ72bd (epub or pdf links, excerpts)
Smashwords http://bit.ly/1s3cf1q (epub)
*QRI is the best, because a reader sees everything at a glance.
**I also write YA, fantasy and M/F romance

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Well, a lot has transpired in a year. Not to bore you, but life happens…bad elections, expired contracts, backlog of re-writes, health issues, yada yada. Bottom line: Erin O’Quinn is back with two all-new re-releases…and a brand-spanking-new title.


The 5-year contracts finally expired on my Iron Warrior duo, and  so I scrubbed them like a good mom and put them back on the bookshelf. See links below. But most important: this past November during Nanowrimo, I was free to write the final book in the series.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Just published! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Each man must come again—whether he wants to or not.

Four warriors return to a place ten years burned into their past, along with a fifth wheel who has his selfish reasons: Two secret lovers… A priest-in-training… The high king’s wise man… And one full of secrects who, in spite of his own fear and deceit, cannot turn from the trail of a desirable man.

Third of the Iron Warrior trilogy.

MM erotic ancient Ireland & Britannia MayDecemberRomance StandaloneNovel

Kindle US http://amzn.to/2n3ojQ7
Kindle UK http://amzn.to/2DAaJOs
Sea to Sky (pdf or epub) http://bit.ly/2n1frcN
Smashwords (epub) http://bit.ly/2DDap0y


For those who’d like to start at the beginning, here’s a link to the first two novels. Each can be read as a stand-alone, but of course the men’s relationship grows and changes as the books continue.


Don’t miss an explicit passage from the novel, right here on this blog. Go  to “Not Safe for Facebook”: http://bit.ly/2rL8n9J

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