SFR Brigade Presents- The Adventure Begins

 

THE SFRB Presents

Hello! This is my first foray on the Science Fiction Romance Brigade website. SFR Brigade Presents is a weekly opportunity to share excerpts from published work or works in progress that fall under the wide sky dome of SF Romance.  One of my current WIPS, From Mars, With Love, fits right in.  If you’d like to check out the other fun and fabulous fiction being presented, click here.

Enjoy!

From Mars, With Love

No one believes me when I say I knew Eli Karmazin back when he was plain old Eli, but it’s true.

I’d always thought that Eli led a charmed life until the day we both got caught up in the slave sweeper. Eli’s swift feet and lucky avoidance of bad shit failed him that day, and I can’t say I’m sorry. Don’t get me wrong. We’s friends, Eli and I. I wasn’t sorry about him getting swept ‘cause I like having company in my misery and his company was better than most. And he had that luck, which faltered but didn’t fail him entirely. So I stuck to him like glue and hoped the sweepers would consider us a two-for-one deal and not pry us apart. They didn’t much care, we all being op-digs and self-propelled and oxy-huffers and so into the bin we went without so much as a hideeho and off we go, to Mars or maybe the lunar station or well, who really knew shit back then in the bin. Not me.

But I gets ahead of myself, as usual ‘cause I never told how me and Eli met, we unlikely friends, earthside.

 

From Mars, With Love is an erotic space opera. Eli and Rilke, two down-and-out earthers get picked up by a slave sweeper and find themselves on the way to Mars.  When the slavers discover that Eli is in possession of a much-desired alien artifact, their adventures become even more dangerous.

Weekend Writing Warriors #Lucky 11

Greetings fellow warriors, writers and readers.  I’m feeling lucky this week– Lucky that my novella Touch of Salar will soon be published, lucky that I’ve been assigned a great editor, lucky that I’ve finished the second round of edits with hardly any mental or emotional damage!  I feel especially lucky that my dreams of being a professional writer are on the verge of becoming real.  I much prefer my dreams to those of poor M’lan, who’s in for a rough of time of it.

This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors. Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress. Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both. It’s a great way to discover your next favorite book. Click the link above or copy & paste this address: http://www.wewriwa.com

Touch of Salar

M’lan had trained for years to calm his mind and cool his passions. While he was busy treating his patients, passion was not a problem. Despite the array of beautiful bodies he worked on, he remained as cool as a mountain lake, his mind as still as he concentrated on sinews, muscles, tendons, and ligaments. At night, though, his passions erupted in those violent dreams of war, killing, and terror.

The monks of Ka’alar Healing Temple exclusively served the noble classes of the kingdom of Rakkan. In recent years, most of their clients were soldiers, officers who’d been injured in the ongoing battle with Jirnan Province to the south. The monks also treated elite forces of no particular rank or designation—spies, assassins, sons and daughters of the nobility trained to serve the king in secret and deadly ways. The only reason M’lan knew this was because of the nightmares that showed him what his clients did, where they went, who they killed. If anyone ever found out, he’d be executed on the spot.

About Touch of Salar, soon to be released by Loose Id.

Touch of Salar is a high fantasy, m/m erotic romance. In the kingdom of Rakkan, in a culture ruled by gods, mystical orders and magic, a young monk with the ability to channel the healing powers of the god Salar falls in love with a wounded warrior he knows only as The Major. Relations between the classes are forbidden, and things become even more complicated when the monk discovers that the man he is obsessed with is a king’s assassin. If M’lan is found out, he will be put to death, possibly by the Major himself.

Weekend Writing Warriors #10

Greetings fellow readers and writers!  Well, I finished the first round of edits on Touch of Salar. The good news is that after spending an entire sunny Sunday inside hunched over the keyboard, I still love being a writer! The editing process was informative and it’s exciting work (I am such a writing geek).

This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors. Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress. Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both. It’s a great way to discover your next favorite book. Click the link above or copy & paste this address: http://www.wewriwa.com

Touch of Salar

The fading aroma of night-blooming cacti still sweetened the air of the healing room. Clay ovens had been fired but a chill remained in the open-air space. M’lan was grateful, because the nightmare had left him drenched with sweat. He leaned against a marble column and basked in the rose-tinted glow of the sunrise. Morning was his favorite time of day, a fresh start, a new beginning. Every day, he channeled divine energy to mend fallen warriors. Every night in his dreams, as if he became a warrior himself, he relived the horror his patients experienced in real life.

His heartbeat slowed and he took a moment to clear his mind and prepare for the first patient of the day.

***

About Touch of Salar

Touch of Salar is a high fantasy, m/m erotic romance. In the kingdom of Rakkan, in a culture ruled by gods, mystical orders and magic, a young monk with the ability to channel the healing powers of the god Salar falls in love with a wounded warrior he knows only as The Major. Relations between the classes are forbidden, and things become even more complicated when the monk discovers that the man he is obsessed with is a king’s assassin. If M’lan is found out, he will be put to death, possibly by the Major himself.

Weekend Writing Warriors #5

This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors.  Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress.  Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both.  Click the link above or copy & paste this address: www.wewriwa.com

(If you’re interested in reading what’s come before, Salar excerpts are collected in the Weekend Warriors Snippets category in the sidebar.  Soon I will figure out how to present them in more reader-friendly fashion.)

***

Curse of Salar

“I’m sorry about your father,” Mira said, “May Ka’atar assist his passage.”

“I am most grateful for your blessing, my Lord,”  Timon filled his cup and bowed again.  They always spoke formally, even during sex. It amused Mira, and saddened him.  Timon was a hand taller than him, well-muscled for a house servant, lean, with hair the color of desert sand and pale blue eyes.  He had a smooth, attractive face, which was why the premier’s agents picked him; they were always trying to guess who might entrance Mira enough to earn his trust. So far they’d failed, he trusted no one.  He found it easy enough to pretend with Timon and Lashmi, although it pained him to watch them love him and be torn apart by conflicting loyalties.

***

Good Almost-News!  An editor has asked for the full manuscript of Touch of Salar, the first in the series.  She said a lot of positive things about the first three chapters, so my hopes are high.  Keep your fingers crossed!

Curse of Salar is an m/m erotic fantasy novella, third in a series set in the world of Salar.  Prince Mira, along with his sister, is the last in the royal line of Jahar, a ruling family of powerful magicians. Mira and Alandra are held as virtual captives in their family’s own palace, kept alive to placate the masses of peasants who are traditional royalists and still believe in the fabled powers of the Jahar. Mira chafes under confinement and dreams of escaping.  Rayn Matisse is a soldier in the rebel army. He has no interest whatsoever in seeing the royals reinstated until he meets Mira and begins to fall under the prince’s magical sway.  Rayn’s people were cursed by the Jahar centuries ago, and though long thought to be a myth, the curse begins to assert its powers once again. As assassination and rebellion upset the false calm of the kingdom, Rayn finds himself torn between love and fear of the young man who possesses an uncanny ability to control him.

Weekend Writing Warriors #4

This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors.  Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress.  Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both.  Click the link above or copy & paste this address: www.wewriwa.com

(If you’re interested in reading what’s come before, Salar excerpts are collected in the Weekend Warriors Snippets category in the sidebar.)

***

Curse of Salar

Timon was allowed to leave the palace to visit his dying father and had been gone for half a moon.  Mira was glad to see him but would never show any glimmer of what might be seen as special affection.  Any servant who displayed too much loyalty to him was sent away on some pretext or other, and Mira had been afraid that the story of the dying father had been one of these excuses.  He knew Timon was fond of him, and he also knew that he diligently reported everything Mira said or did to the premier’s watchers. He couldn’t blame him, that’s what he was brought to the palace to do.  The premier recruited servants from other kingdoms or from the rebel states, who had no loyalty to the royal family or any lingering superstitions regarding the divinity of Mira and Alandra.

“How’s your father?” Mira asked without preamble.

“Gone up the mountain to dance with the spirits,” Timon said, bowing slightly.

***

Curse of Salar is an m/m erotic fantasy novella, third in a series set in the world of Salar.  Prince Mira, along with his sister, is the last in the royal line of Jahar, a ruling family of powerful magicians. Mira and Alandra are held as virtual captives in their family’s own palace, kept alive to placate the masses of peasants who are traditional royalists and still believe in the fabled powers of the Jahar. Mira chafes under confinement and dreams of escaping.  Rayn Matisse is a soldier in the rebel army. He has no interest whatsoever in seeing the royals reinstated until he meets Mira and begins to fall under the prince’s magical sway.  Rayn’s people were cursed by the Jahar centuries ago, and though long thought to be a myth, the curse begins to assert its powers once again. As assassination and rebellion upset the false calm of the kingdom, Rayn finds himself torn between love and fear of the young man who possesses an uncanny ability to control him.

I Know It When I Read It: Erotica vs. Porn

I was recently having a discussion with a writer friend about my efforts to write an erotic novella.  I noticed very quickly that whereas I always used the term “erotica”, she always said “porn”.  It rankled me.  Eventually I expressed my enranklement and she explained that erotica is just porn dressed up in a more marketable guise.

I beg to disagree.  I believe that there is a significant difference between the two genres, though there is a point at the extremes of both where they overlap.  This is not a judgment call or anything to do with morality, but simply that, as a writer, I have no interest in crafting porn, just as readers of erotica and readers of porn have different tastes and come to the page looking for different experiences.

Pornographic fiction and erotic fiction share one major thing in common: hot, graphic sex.  It’s my opinion that while in porn the sex is the reason d’etre, in erotica it is the icing on the cake, sometimes the filling as well, but never the whole cake.

In porn, there is a setting; a roadside bar, an office, a castle on the hill. There are characters defined by easily identifiable labels; bored housewife, rebellious biker, lonely traffic cop.  There is a very brief set-up; bored housewife stops at seedy bar and meets rebellious biker.  There is action; hot, graphic sex on a pool table.  That’s it.  Erotica has these things as well, of course, and depending on the style of the writer and the subgenre, these elements are developed and complicated to varying degrees.  In erotica, the setting becomes a more richly detailed world designed to heighten the senses and provide both opportunity and challenges.  The characters become actual people that transcend labels. They have lives beyond looking for sex. They have complications and maybe as many reasons to avoid their destined mate as to jump their bones.  There’s not only action, but plot.  Here things really diverge. In porn, there is very little resistance between contact and coitus.  Readers of porn aren’t interested in watching characters overcome obstacles to be together. As a matter of fact, I’d guess the reason they prefer porn is that they are tired of obstacles and just want to have fun. Porn is lust at first sight. Complications, if they exist, involve questions like “how many bikers will this pool table support?” not “if I have sex with this stranger, will it be the end of my marriage?”

Essentially, erotica offers two major elements that porn does not: Romance and suspense.  By romance I mean a developing relationship at the core of the story.  By suspense I mean obstacles, doubts and delays that get in the way of the romance, or in other words, the grand human mess that is human intimacy.  Erotic fiction ranges from pure fantasy to gritty reality, but always, there is some element of that most delightful state of being: anticipation.  You might scoff and say there’s no suspense in romance because we know damn well who’s going to boff who.  Well, that’s just like saying there’s no suspense in your average mystery because we know the detective will solve the crime.  The suspense lies in the journey. What twists and turns shall we endure? What challenges will the lovers face? How often will their fatal flaws get in the way? Will X panic when he falls in love with Y? Will Y go back to her old boyfriend, or run away with Z?  It’s all deliciously complicated, frustrating, and if done well, arousing.

And speaking of sex.  Porn goes straight for the hot sex with a sprinkling of story on the side. In erotica, it is the story that makes the sex hot.  It hardly matters who does what with which parts, or how large or slippery those parts are. The reader has already slid beneath skin of the characters and ridden out the storm with them. The sex will be hot!

I believe that we all dream of that perfect mate, that awesome, mind-blowing connection with another human being. That’s what erotica offers that porn doesn’t.  The purely realized fantasy of love achieved, love expressed in its rawest form; hot, graphic sex. Dirty sex. Kinky sex. Sad sex. Angry sex.  There is physical bliss but there is also emotion. Doubt. Fear. Longing. Rejection. Joy. Erotica removes sex from the realm of simple fantasy to that of complicated fantasy. Characters in erotica earn their orgasms, by golly.

Maybe I’m splitting hairs, but in this world we market and shop in, labels are important. While I might click on a book labeled erotica, I’d never click on one labeled pornography.  So maybe my friend is right? Maybe it’s all just lipstick and fishnet stockings and fooling the search engines?

Call me a romantic, but I don’t think so.