Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘gay’

I’m just beginning the third of a triplet of novellas. My muse, damn her, insisted that I start with an iconic dream: the archetypal craving for flight.

These few words begin the story told in Spilled Passion.

icarus gold

This is a stock image from the web…the iconic Icarus.

Aidan Williamson lay basking in a dream, the kind of fantasy he used to have, back when he was a boy just discovering the pubic nest, the fledgling cock, the joy of release.

He was flying, he was soaring, higher and higher. Some ache far inside his ass was propelling him upward, to the sun, dick first…

Except this time the dream was real. Logan curled next to him, a careless leg hitched over his own spent body, warm breath fanning his cheek.

Aidan’s cock grow heavy again with remembered passion.

In this (probably final) series work, Aidan tries to burst the bounds of heavy earth. But first, he has to confront his demons—and his angels too.
Here’s a mashup of the three novellas, and a link to the first two.

aidan series tryptich 2

https://amzn.to/2XKxIR2 

Read Full Post »

Aidan Williamson is good-looking young constable, smarter than most, in a Highlands village named Ballater. That tiny hamlet rubs elbows with Balmoral Castle, the Queen’s annual summer retreat. And Police Scotland is getting nervous…

In the novella Where There’s Smoke, Aidan is plucked from his day job and offered a position as undercover sergeant detective for the CID, Scotland’s version of, um, Scotland Yard-cum-MI5. His first adventure takes him on an exhausting trek to Devil’s Point, where a young hiker has been killed. It’s also where he meets Kenneth Logan.

to the bottom

The sequel Deep Fury begins the morning after the night before. Here’s the Introduction:

A mystery to make the Queen blush…

With the Queen due for her annual visit to Balmoral Castle, Constable Aidan Williamson has been transformed overnight into an undercover detective. He’s managed to emerge from his first case (Where There’s Smoke) with only a bullet wound and a few other scars no one can see.

This time around, he’s in the close company of three murder suspects—a writer’s publicist, a widowed husband, and a hot Scot who’s their paid guide. And this time he has two assets. One is his old constable partner Mike Murphy, mad Irishman. The other is Logan, another smoking-hot Scot, who always seems to catch Aidan off guard but always has his back.

At the Widow’s House of Queen Victoria on a lake in the Highlands…and in his own private life…there’s a smoldering deep fury at work, and Aidan’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

Postscript: Deep Fury is also a brand of lube, one I invented in a previous novel called The Chase. So of course, I have a good time playing with those words, and with some verra interesting men.

The blog article right before this one (“Book Burning”) contains an excerpt from the work, one that got me into Facebook Jail for a while. Find it here: https://bit.ly/2XAR9qn

Anyway, without further fanfare, I give you Aidan Undercover 2, available at the venues of all the usual suspects.

david & goliath

 

Amazon US https://amzn.to/2XyEMjk

SeaToSky https://bit.ly/2NMlanB

Smashwords https://bit.ly/2JtBqWh

QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/book/deep-fury/

flame on whte

In case you missed the first novella, check here:

WS odyssey

Kindle US https://amzn.to/2Io45dK 

Kindle UK https://amzn.to/2Io45dK 

SeaToSky (pdf or epub) https://bit.ly/2Z4wKeu

Smashwords (epub)  https://bit.ly/2HYByfz

QueeRomance Ink (links, excerpt, etc.) https://bit.ly/31iqNMM

WTS zon 1 copy

Read Full Post »

The orange flames waved at the crowd as paper and print dissolved inside them. Burning words were torn from their sentences.”

~Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

burning.png

Facebook, stung by accusations of allowing hate speech,  has taken the role of book burner. If a post shows “questionable” nudity…if the text “goes against community standards”…Zap! It’s removed, and the poster is put in purgagory for an arbitrary length of time.

In my case, it was an image of two men, their nether regions covered in a sheet, lying together on a bed. Naughty! Nudity! The text was the opening of my newest novella, still being written. And the whole nasty thing was shared with one private group of erotica writers.

That was enough to put me in FB jail, judged by the kangaroo court that writers of gay lit often find themselves facing and judged by, with no hope of defense.

Here’s the image, somewhat altered by a decorative art application, and the text. Brace yourself for a barrage of nasty filthy private words spoken by two men who favor each other…

The Morning After

Waking up with a landslide in his lap, Aidan could barely see his date by the glow of the kitchen night light. They were curled together on the tacky linoleum. Above his head hunkered the shadow of his heavy slat-backed chair, seat of recent passion.

His piss-hard was painful, and persistent. But he wanted to hang onto this man a while longer.

They’d known each other for—not months, or weeks, or days—for whole hours. But they shared a spark, an ember, that had smoldered and caught in the dry kindling of a stone hut. The flame had started in his cock, spread to his butt, then fired his gut and his tattered soul.

He would not easily let this one go.

In sleep, his frame collapsed to fit Aidan’s embrace, Logan was not so much a mountain as a boulder. His cheeks were stubbled by new growth, but the close beard was soft as angel hair. Aidan imagined rather than saw the curve of his dark lashes, the planes of his cheeks, the pouting sensitive mouth. And below, the swell of his arousal…

Why didn’t he even look at my bed? Maybe he could sense that another man had fucked me there. And sleeping on the bloody floor—a substitute for his own stone haven? Will he ever shout his honest need to me…or to any man?

in bed

He hoped the answers would come, in time.

“Logan.” He murmured in the man’s ear, then put his tongue inside for good measure. The response was immediate, a volcanic rumble.

“Little Fire. It must be time to leave.”

“Aye. Fast shower first?”

“How fast?”

“Just long enough. No time for your Deep Fury.” Logan and his magical gel had been, in a word, extraordinary.

A low laugh, a seeking of his mouth and tongue…the adamantium mountain was awake and ready.

At least my publisher…oh, that would be yours truly…New Dawn Press will publish this later. Right now, it’s one third complete. A mystery, BTW, not an erotic romp, or even a romance.  The bare beginnings of an interesting friendship.

The novella is tentatively titled Deep Fury and is the sequel to Where There’s Smoke.

Kindle US https://t2m.io/BH0DYkaZ

Kindle UK https://t2m.io/DfeqsJva

SeaToSky (pdf or epub) https://t2m.io/Pa6vV5Ri

Smashwords (epub) https://t2m.io/2BNba3Sp 

QueeRomance Ink (all links, excerpt, reviews, other info) https://t2m.io/qsZHJd7B  

Where they burn books, they will, in  the end, burn people.

~German poet Heinrich Heine

 

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

Where There’s Smoke is now live!

Those who’ve read Sleeping with Danger, the fourth and latest Nevada Highlander novel, will no doubt remember Aidan Williamson—the young, tousle-haired, competent, and smart constable in a tiny Police Scotland office in Ballater.

In that novel, he rushes to what he thinks is the aid of Rory and Alex, only to find that they’ve blown off his help and have stirred up a hornet’s next. And he’s deeply pissed.

snippet cop copy

Far from a cartoon, Aidan is a stand-out cop, much more so than he realizes. In my newest work, he takes center stage. The Chief Inspector calls on him for an important undercover assignment, as Sergeant Detective in the UK’s prestigious Criminal Investigation Department.

Here’s the intro to the novella:

Aidan Williamson, just another Police Scotland constable in a tiny Highlands hamlet, is plucked from his routine life into a case of murder most foul. Still wincing from the wounds of a recent separation, Aidan keeps his emotional life tucked in his trousers, out of sight. Until he encounters Kenneth Logan—a man in self-isolation at Devil’s Point. There’s a secret buried in those soul-deep eyes.

How long before the rookie detective gives in to his almost sensual attraction to all that’s profoundly mystifying? And who will survive the killing field in a place Scots call The Demon’s Penis?

The novel is a police procedural…but (“big but,” as the CI would say)…the reclusive Logan is a force to reckon with, and not just his size. Aidan’s attraction to him is strong, and immediate. Here are two different promos I’ll be running, and maybe you ‘ll get the idea.

WTS granite use

Yes, he’s built like the proverbial brick house. And Aidan appreciates a well put together case, um, individual…

WS odyssey

I like this novella (around 30K words, so not too brief), and I hope you, the reader, will too. If the response warrants, this will be the start of a series I’ll call “Aidan Undercover.”

Here are your sales links, and thanks for your interest in the writing of Erin O’Quinn.

Amazon (kindle mobi) https://amzn.to/2Io45dK

SeaToSky (epub or pdf) https://bit.ly/2Z4wKeu  

Smashwords (epub) https://bit.ly/2HYByfz

QueeRomanceInk (links, excerpt, etc.) https://bit.ly/31iqNMM 

 

WTS zon 1 copy

Read Full Post »

Beltane, a day for lovers. The day Michael met Simon: May 1, 1923. Get hooked on noir with a sexy attitude—gay retro with a twist!
Have you read the acclaimed gay romance mystery series?
htoh anniversary

❤️HEART TO HART ❤️ A roustabout with a secret falls arse-over-bollocks for a surly, angry PI. Together, they solve a mystery but start their own, much deeper one.

 

👥SPARRING WITH SHADOWS 👥 A man fights his inner demons while confronting his horny flat-mate, a determined swordsman, and a dangerous criminal.

 

☠️TO THE BONE ☠️ A pesky newcomer burrows like a tick between the two PIs even as they struggle to fight crime and to understand each other’s most secret desires.

 

🕵️‍♂️THIN AS SMOKE 🕵️‍♂️ Hollow-chested Dashiell Hammett stands between Michael and Simon like a blunt revolver, and his presence in a Mafia-hunt threatens to dead-end their edgy relationship.

 

😈 MASTERS OF CANE 😈 Usually the handsome Michael relies on his fists and his wits. But he’s more than willing to allow his sensuous PI partner Simon to show him a few secrets with a trusty cane….

 

Best read in order for the evolving relationship. Heat level: high

 

~The Gaslight Mysteries

http://amzn.to/2CZsBxm 🕵️‍♂️🕵️‍♂️

Follow this link to a blogsite devoted to the Gaslight Mysteries.

https://caitlinfire.wordpress.com/2018/05/01/grow-a-set-michael-and-simon/

 

~The Gaslight Mysteries
http://amzn.to/2CZsBxm 🕵️‍♂️🕵️‍♂️
Follow this link to a blogsite devoted to the Gaslight Mysteries.
All five covers, my design:
GL full covers.png

Read Full Post »

Readers who’ve followed Erin O’Quinn’s *Nevada Highlander series may remember a certain constable from the most recent novel **Sleeping with Danger…a tousle-haired young man named Aidan Williamson out of Ballater’s small Police Scotland office.

ballater ps

This Google Maps photo captures the small building where two of Scotland’s finest hang out, fighting crime and boredom…

I keep wondering about Aidan… Why does a Scot have a name like Williamson? What keeps a vigorous, inquisitive young man behind a desk in a tiny hamlet in the Highlands? Was he telling Rory the truth when he admitted to loving his unnamed mate—and if so, who’s the lucky partner? Male, or female?

Recently I sat at my keyboard and began to wonder with my fingers. Here’s the result: about 800 words of a new work. Novel, or novella? Not sure. Probably a novella, with a new love interest who may (or may not) show up in another book. We’ll see.

Here’s a make-believe promo, using models whose images I’ll need to purchase if I decide to use them.

wts smoky coll

Chapter 1
From the Ashes

Pain rode like a surly hitch-hiker in the small of his back.

Aidan leaned back in the creaky swivel chair, his long legs crossed on the splintered desk, trying to ease a distant ache.

Almost five o’clock. Time for the night shift to appear in the form of Michael Murphy. He lifted his reluctant feet off the scarred surface, careful not to scrape the shine off his PS-issued brogans, pretending he wasn’t bored to fucking death and in desperate need of a cigar and a bed, in any order.

His reports were complete. Check. He’d scanned the latest Police Scotland bulletins on his desktop computer. Check. He’d gone to the rescue of a tabby cat on a roof and an elderly man who’d lost his way in Ballater’s only bus station. Check. He’d answered the phone fifty times, at least, and only half of them wrong numbers.

Now what?

He tried not to think about the four walls waiting for him in his bland flat, or saying goodbye to Justin. Not “see you later,” or “be good, man.” Saying goodbye, farewell, sayonara.

The parting had been a year in the making. Justin’s work day getting longer…his own shift needing more scrupulous attention…their days off never seeming to coincide…their sex life  as routine as the Ballater Community W.A.T.C.H. he wrote up each week for the website.

We Are The Community Helpers.

Ha.

So. Justin was now a clerk in the Aberdeen office of the Regional Judge. 

He sighed. Not exactly a life filled with excitement and danger, like his own—the thrill-a-minute existence of an underpaid Sergeant Constable in the tiny Ballater office of Police Scotland.

At the sound of a vehicle pulling into the cramped concrete parking lot, he stood and pretended to scan the bulletins pinned to the cork board. Lost pets, alerts on suspected stalkers, a lonely man reported lurking in petrol stations, reminders to call in any sighting of a 2009 gray grocery getter, commendations of model citizens, and even a few random constables in other towns who’d earned a promotion…

He turned to greet his office mate, and found another man altogether.

Chief Inspector Grant McDowell was no longer young, but he was a match for any officer on the force. Aidan didn’t know him, except to stand straighter and make eye contact on the few occasions their paths had crossed—one commemorative dinner, two funerals, and a parking lot somewhere, maybe a year ago.

It was either a talent or a curse that Aiden could read character in someone’s eyes and body language. That hidden skill had served him well during the four years he’d toiled for Police Scotland. It had won a few friends…he thought about his ex, of course, and his recent acquaintance with the faux-Constables Alex and Rory…and the same ability had also earned more than his share of arrests.

Even with his cap under his arm, the inspector stood over six feet, a shade under his own height. The sandy-gray hair, worn straight back from his forehead, lent him an almost leonine air, a feral animal trapped in a cage. His eyes, pale blue behind the black-rimmed glasses, hinted at an ancestry well beyond the Highlands and Islands. They were steel-hard, intelligent, restless, hungry…

CI

McDowell didn’t wait for Aidan to approach him. He strode the few paces to the bulletin board and held out his bear’s paw of a hand.

“Sergeant Williamson. Nice to see you again.”

Since his superior had chosen to see him here, in his own tiny office late on a Friday afternoon, Aidan ungraciously thought it was hardly nice, but a surprise nonetheless. He liked McDowell, but he hated rude awakenings.

What had he done wrong?

Fuck, Aidan, think positive. What have you done right?

He shook the proffered hand and smiled with his mouth and his eyes too. The man’s grasp was strong and honest.

“The pleasure is mine, sir. Um, have a seat? Or…”

“Or not, Sergeant. I’ve come to whisk you away for an hour, tops. Your second-shift man Murphy should be here—” he glanced at his watch—“any minute now.”

How did someone from the echelons of power know the name of his five-to-dawn partner? He’d done his homework, obviously. “Yes, sir. So you want to…”

“To take you somewhere with a bar top and a nodding acquaintance with a wee dram. Know any place close by?” The ironic tone wasn’t even necessary. The inspector wasn’t testing him. He already knew Aidan liked his whisky and cigar. 

aidan cigar h:s

He grinned at the older man. “I recommend the Black Boar. Five minutes from here—but isn’t every place in Ballater?”

McDowell laughed outright. “This burg is a favorite of mine, but yes, ’tis not over-populated with pubs. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

 

 

Stay tuned for the rest of chapter one, if I decide to write this new one, Where there’s Smoke.

bristlecone 4 use

*The Nevada Highlander Series (4 novels) is here: http://amzn.to/2kZE8VU 

**Sleeping with Danger is the fourth of the series

 

Read Full Post »

In my current promo, I’ve lifted a line from the novel Unbroken, one that sums up Grier’s pent up desire, and my own remorse at ending this brief book series.

R&R color shot italic correx

In this scene, Grier (Gregory MacGregor) has been severely wounded by a knife attack. He’s just now beginning his recovery, in David’s little cabin aboard the trader Arend.

“I’ve never spread my legs for any man.”

… Grier was still an invalid, but he’d claimed a bed he could tolerate. It was the floor of David’s room, a cubby-hole the sailors called a “cabin” where David changed his bandage. He noted with a wry expression that the lad kept his eyes averted from his groin; yet he said nothing. He could wait.

He clenched his jaw but didnae resist when his host sent him into a corner carrying a privy—a large chipped basin—and had stood like a soldier while the lad cleaned his verra personal places with a cloth dipped in water.

Well, he bore it no’ so muckle like a soldier. More like a wounded bear, back turned, leaning against a wall, his thigh throbbing and his cock too, cursing under his breath.

“Am I clean now, lad?”

“Shush, Grier. Spread your legs a little. Careful of that wound.”

“I’ve never spread my legs for any man.”

David was kneeling behind him, gently cleansing his buttocks. “I need you to be still.”

“And I need you, David. Still—or any way at all. Kiss my arse, lad, and use your tongue…”

David’s hand stopped, but he didnae remove it.

“What…did you say?”

“You heard me. The training you wanted, ’tis trembling before you. My arse is on fire for you. Lick my crack, lift me to the sky.”

A hesitation, a soft touch. A finger…or a wet tongue…something stroked his cleft, and his hungry cock shook, heavy with desire.

He moaned like a bairn and spread wider.

“More, David. More. Put it inside…”

“Put…what, Grier?”

“Your finger, or ten of them, your tongue, your cock. I want it all…”

RY&R release use correx jpg

David gripped his buttocks, hard…and now he could feel the heat of the man’s breath and the scalding sucks first next to his hole, then almost on the balls, a back-and-forth, an in-and-out, a flaring of the muscles deep inside his core, a rush of his own hot fluids.

He let it go on forever, shaking and crying, loving the release, hating the end, wanting more.

Finally he turned, clumsy, his wound making him lame.

He rested his hands on David’s flaxen head while the lad, still kneeling, looked up at him with his ocean-blue eyes.

“I couldnae wait. Och, lad, I’m sorry.”

David’s eyes lit in response. “Giving you pleasure—making your forget your pain even for a few seconds—I think I’ve never been so fulfilled.”

He eased himself to his knees in front of David and took the lad’s face into his hands. “Leaving you was the worst day of my life.”

“No. The worst day is years past, Mister MacGregor. Turning from me was only a…a pirouette. Another step in the dance…”

You’ll find this two novel series here:

R&R yellow ribbon

 https://amzn.to/2JXjDcv

~and~ 

SeaToSky (epub or pdf) https://bit.ly/2UQYsJL  

Smashwords (epub) https://bit.ly/2TsCBal  

QRI (all links, excerpt, reviews, more) https://bit.ly/2HEKjwD

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

Kathy Griffith, Paranormal Author

Imagine The Possibilities

Wildlife Detective

The blog of Alan Stewart

R. M. Sayan: JustSomeCynic

A queer writer of queer things.

Footprints in the wind

Obscenely and courageously ...

M.A. Lossl

An author's life, books, and historical research

Olga Schroeder Institute

Home of AJ Greywood's upcoming Paranormal Novel Secondary Ability

Unemployed Imagination.

M/M Novels, Historical and Contemporary...Erin O'Quinn

The Stories In Between

Author River Dixon

Celtic Fire

The Gaelic spirit lives here

suzanawylie

M/M Novels, Historical and Contemporary...Erin O'Quinn

Suzana Writes

Here you'll find fiction and poetry I've written

Ac´cent Gay Lit Authors

Where authors of gay lit strut their stuff

The Gaslight M/Mysteries

Gay retro with a twist

The Man in Romance

M/M Novels, Historical and Contemporary...Erin O'Quinn

GaelicMuse

Romance from Erin O'Quinn

Elin Gregory

Telling it like it was ...

%d bloggers like this: