Weekend Writing Warriors #14

May 25, 2014 by Alexis Duran

Welcome warriors, writers and readers! I’m going to share one last snippet from my upcoming novel, Touch of Salar. The almost certain release date is June 17th and I hope I’ve wet your whistle enough that you’ll check it out when it’s available. Does time go into super slow-mo when you’re waiting for a book to launch? It has for me. I’m already half way through the next in the series, working title Blood of Salar and I’m so excited about it I wish both books could come out at once. Ah well, patience is a virtue, I guess.

Touch of Salar (I cut a few lines to reach a nice stopping point. If you like you can read the complete scene up to this point on my Salar page.)

The major lay down on his stomach without a word, crossed his arms above his head, and rested his face on the open frame at the top. He was tall, and he reached from one end of the table to the other. M’lan moved closer, rubbing warmed zinn bark oil onto his hands.

“With your permission,” he said as was required – all he got in return was a grunt.

After warming his hands, he placed them on the small of the man’s back. Though heavily scarred in places, the skin was smooth and hot from the sulfur bath. Electric sparks trickled up M’lan’s hands, and he nearly jumped back. He closed his eyes and let out a calming breath, feeling the rhythm of the man’s pulse beneath his palms.

***

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 here or copy & paste this address: http://www.wewriwa.com

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 #13

May 18, 2014 by Alexis Duran

Hi! If you’re participating in the Hop Against Homophobia and Transphobia, please scroll down to the next post to find my HAHAT post and leave a comment for a chance to win a prize! I haven’t quite figured out yet how to update my linky-thingy on the website to go directly to the post.

Okay, back to the snippet! Greetings Weekend Writing Warriors! My, I’m using a lot of exclamation points today! Maybe it’s because I’ve finally reached the point where M’lan gets to interact with the major. Be still my heart. (creative punctuation alert)

Touch of Salar

The major crossed the tiled floor without a sound and stepped up to the table. From behind him, M’lan watched the silk robe slide from wide shoulders and drop to the floor before he raised his eyes, ready to assess what he saw.

His breath caught. Even though he was used to seeing well-sculpted, muscular bodies, this one was exceptional. Faint scars crisscrossed the truly beautiful almond skin but were hidden among the swirls and tangled vines of an elaborate tattoo that climbed from the crease beneath the man’s left buttock to the base of his neck. His torso tapered from the broad shoulders to a slim waist, the arms and legs were lean yet muscular, and the buttocks tight and hard. He had glossy black hair that flashed red in the sunlight. M’lan glimpsed a fine high cheekbone, sculpted jawline, and aquiline nose– a true son of Rakkan.

***

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

Hop Against Homophobia and Transphobia

May 17, 2014 by Alexis Duran

Today, May 17th, is International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia and that’s why over a hundred writers, cover designers, publishers and reviewers are participating in the Hop Against Homophobia and Transphobia. Click the badge above to visit other participating bloggers for fun and prizes! I’ll be giving away a $10 Loose Id gift certificate to someone drawn randomly from those who comment on this blog in the next week (don’t forget to leave an email address). You can use it to buy my soon-to-be-released m/m erotic fantasy, Touch of Salar, or any of Loose Id’s wide selection of LGBTQ erotica. Also, if I get over ten comments (one per person please), I’ll be donating $25 to GLAAD!

Enjoy the hop!

Pretty Men, Handsome Women

Instead of writing this blog the other night I logged on to Pintrist and found myself caught in compulsive scroll mode for nearly two hours. In the search box I’d typed “handsome men” and the results did not disappoint. This is legitimate work, believe it or not. As a writer of m/m romance and erotica, I feel it’s my duty to offer a bit of man candy on my blog to enhance the value of stopping by.

Here you go:

So as I was compulsively scrolling and pinning, I found this photo of Orlando Bloom, one of my favorite hotties who would be on the cover of all of my novels if I had any say in the matter.

One of the comments under the photo was “he looks gay”. That’s all. My first thought was “all the better” as my characters are mostly gay and bisexual. Then I paused to reflect, what is it that makes a man “look gay”? I think the traditional stereotypic answer would be a man who looks feminine. So what does it mean to “look feminine”?

What I see in this photo aside from undeniable beauty is an aura of gentleness, even vulnerability. Perhaps a touch of style in the bracelets and long hair that a manly alpha lumberjack type wouldn’t sport? All good as far as I’m concerned, but I have to wonder about a culture that frowns upon signs of gentleness in its men.

The code of manliness seems more rigid and controlling than the code of femininity, partly I suppose because the misogynistic tendencies in our culture understand a woman’s desire to be “more manly” whereas a man’s tendency to be feminine is roundly scorned. That’s not to say that women are not judged and found lacking by the same wonky standards.

Handsome women, i.e. women who look masculine, exude strength, confidence and probably don’t have a pert nose and a bow in their hair are judged as not attractive or at least not optimal mating material. A woman should exude soft, nurturing, sexy submission, if our entrainment and advertising industries accurately indicate anything.

Here’s one for the ladies:

I’m always surprised when I see real life indicators supporting restrictive, damaging expectations that limit one’s ability to appreciate beauty. (Does Pintrist count as real life?) I look at that photo of Orlando and basically drool and cry myself to sleep, but some bizarre creature out there looks at it and thinks “too feminine.” Likewise, some misguided fools won’t find Angelica quite feminine enough, and therefore “unattractive”.

Maybe I’m too sensitive, I don’t know, but I’d like to think we’ve moved beyond shoving people in to boxes designed to meet our primal mating requirements. Not manly enough= doesn’t suit my personal needs=bad. Labeling and judging our fellow humans based on taste rather than reveling in the simple beauty of the human form, free of rating systems, preconceived prejudices or, let’s face it, blind stupidity, should be a thing of the past. Someone might not be your personal cuddle fantasy, but that doesn’t lessen their beauty.

I admit, my tastes run toward gentle, vulnerable, perhaps feminine looking men and they always have. But it wouldn’t occur to me judge, say The Rock and leave the comment “he looks het”. Or maybe I would. That would cause a few head scratches I’m sure.

Weekend Writing Warriors #12

May 11, 2014 by Alexis Duran

Do all writers love the rain? I do. The constant patter of sloppy drops on the window, the chilly gusts rattling the blossoms off the trees, gives me permission to ignore the weeds, the foot high grass, the drooping limbs in need of trim, to hole up with a cup of tea and write, write, write. If you’re a writer who loves the rain, nothing beats Oregon in the springtime! Back to the snippet–at last, the warrior arrives, M’lan’s ultimate challenge. Here’s a little eye candy to wet your whistle.

Touch of Salar

Cobwebs clearing from his mind, M’lan hurried to wipe down the soft-padded table in the middle of the room with essential oils and snapped out a fresh cloth to smooth on top of it. Today he was to begin the healing process on a new patient. For the sake of secrecy and discretion, patients were referred to by title. Today’s client, if spoken to, was to be addressed as Major. He was male, twenty-eight passages of age, and had been in the intensive-care ward of the temple for three weeks.

The entry chimes sounded, and M’lan bowed his head, as was custom when nobility entered. The patient wore a black silk robe, head covered with a hood. He moved with an easy grace and a lightness of foot, unlike most of the warriors M’lan worked on, who tended to be heavyset and muscle-bound.

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

SFR Brigade Presents- The Adventure Begins

May 9, 2014 by Alexis Duran

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

May 4, 2014 by Alexis Duran

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.