In Which I Have No Idea What is Going On

It seemed like a good idea at the time; the three of us doing a blog together. After all, Patricia Logan, Lisa Worrall and I (Sue Brown) spend a lot of time rambling together. Yep, well that’s it. Patti, Liss and me – we ramble. Talking sensibly is not really on our things to do list. So when Lee reminded me that we had booked this blog, the shrieks of “OMG, what the hell are we going to talk about?” reverberated around our little patch of Facebook.
We managed to boil it down to a few questions. Of course, we didn’t stick to the questions. Have you ever tried to get Lisa and Patti to stick to anything? *ducks head*
Question 1:
Lisa: So who came up with the idea of Masquerade?
Sue: It wasn’t me. You two approached me.
Patti: It was Lisa.
At this point, we descend into an argument about which of us is middle-aged. We had been discussing the joys of older men. Yes, Lisa, you are younger than us. Oh, and then apparently I want to marry Lisa’s chest.
Moving on swiftly…
Question 2:
Patti: Why did we work together again after Chasing the Dream.
Sue: Right, I worked with Patti and Lisa because they asked me to *g*
Lisa: I worked with Patti and Sue because Patti made me.
Sue: LOL. Way to go with the ego crushing Lisa!
Patti: I worked with Lisa and Sue because I can't get enough of the Britishisms *rolls eyes*
Have you ever discussed the spelling of bollocks? Patti and Lisa had a moment on that discussion which ended up with me yelling lick my Ox Balls. It’s all Patti’s fault. She thinks that’s fanfic for either Ferdinand the Bull or Babe. Oh and apparently coming from Essex means you can spell bollocks. Coming from Essex counts for a great deal!
Question 3:
Lisa: Why did I pick contemporary? Probably because I found the idea of historical too terrifying. How easy did you find Regency?
Sue: Really difficult but there is a wealth of information out there. Regency Romance is a big deal. We have a lot to thank Jane Austen. There are so many societies out there.
We were waiting for Patti to come back and started a conversation about how my Edwin (the lamb in the Regency) would cope if he met Patti’s pirate or Lisa’s contemporary guys. Lisa thought Edwin would think all his birthdays and Christmases were rolled up in one.
Patti: So, here's a question for you, Lisa. This is your first mixed race book. Was it different and why did you choose to write mixed race?
Lisa: I don't know is the honest answer. But when I was describing Tom, Gabe was so ethereally beautiful, all blond hair and green eyes, and pale skinned... I just had a vision of how gorgeous his skin would look against much darker hands.
Patti:  I had the same idea when I wrote slave. Francois is so white and blond and Anthony, though blue eyed, has that swarthy pirate look. I have the same contrast in The Cowboy Queen. I like it.
Patti: I wanted to do a really good BDSM and I've always wanted to do a pirate book. I also have one big guy and one little guy. I went the twink route with Slave and that's the first time I'd done that. Most always, my guys have been hulking and tall. But the more I read, the more I think I like the sexy little guy sometimes. I come from the 1970's romance era where every man was a mountain and every woman was a tiny thing. So, when I started writing M/M, all my men were mountains.
So this led back to the idea of older men in stories. Patti was worried about erectile dysfunction (typical!), and Lisa seemed to be planning her book empire for the next ten years. Me? I had a cup of coffee.
The Masquerade Trilogy is published by Silver Publishing.
The Layered Mask
Threatened by his father with disinheritance, Lord Edwin Nash arrives in London for one season to find a wife. While there, Nash discovers he is the lamb, the sacrifice of the society matrons, to be shackled to one of the girls by the end of the season.

During a masquerade ball, Nash hides from the ladies vying for his attention. He is discovered by Lord Thomas Downe, the Duke of Lynwood. Nash is horrified when Thomas calmly tells him that he knows the secret that Nash had hidden for years and that he sees through the mask that Edwin presents to the rest of the world.

What will happen when the time comes for Edwin to return home with a suitable bride?
Sue’s Bio: Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn't following their orders, she can be found at university listening to lecturers discuss long-dead theologians. In her head, however, she's plotting how to get her cowboys into bed together; she just hopes the lecturer doesn't ask her any questions.

Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she's made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.

The Slave's Mask
Infamous American blackguard and blockade runner, Captain Anthony Charles, has made a fortune in gold, running contraband between England and the Confederate States at the height of the Civil War in 1863. Anthony knows good brandy and fine cigars and his English clients appreciate him for it, but the captain also craves young submissive men. When he wins a young prostitute at an auction, Francois becomes his slave for seven days.

Francois has turned to prostitution to survive, but he is more than a whore. While most men who enjoy his favors treat him cruelly, he is stunned by this temporary owner's kindness. Being a slave to this blue-eyed Master is no difficult task. Both men find that love may not be as elusive as they thought. Will the separation of oceans and time test their love or bring pain beyond bearing?
Patricia’s bio: I am a mother of four children and four pets. I am a wife to a very strange man that has managed to put up with me for over 26 years.

During the day and sometimes at night, you will find me with a laptop on my....well..., on my lap and with it I will often be writing novels. I am an author of gay erotic fiction. Why do I write about men who love men? Because I believe that if one man is good two are even better. Besides that, I believe stongly that anyone should be able to love whomever they want to love and I believe that since God made us this way, he doesn't make mistakes.

I love to laugh even more than life itself. Please make me laugh and I'll do my best to reciprocate.

Behind the Mask
The Downe's Valentine's Day Masquerade Ball has been an annual event for over a hundred years and where, four years ago, Gabe met Mike.

It's been over six months since Mike's death and Mike thinks that Gabe is ready to move on. How does Gabe know this? He receives a letter and a ticket to the ball, from Mike. Gabe isn't sure he'll ever be ready to move on, but in deference to Mike's memory, he attends the ball.

What Gabe doesn't know, is that his best friend, Tom, the one constant in his life since college, has also received a letter from Mike. Will Gabe be able to move forward and remember a long forgotten love, or will his world come crumbling down around his ears, again?
Lisa’s Bio:  


Flash Fiction Friday: Together


He peers into the distance, listening to the approaching hounds. He thinks I don't notice. The injury isn't so bad my senses are off though.
He needs to move, leave me behind. I’m slowing him down. Worse, I can't shift and heal while he watches.
"Leave me."  
"We live or die together." I wince as he applies pressure to the wound. "Just shift."
My world slows and every painful breath batters my ear drums. He knows. "What?"
"What are you? Fox? Lynx? I'd recognize another wolf's scent." He's prosaic, matter of fact.
"Fox," Wolf...that solves the mystery of his scent. 

If you like my flash, check out the others!

Havan Fellows ~ Patricia Logan ~ Bonni Sansom ~ Sara York ~ Cyril J. Michael ~ Venus Cahill ~ Yvonne Nicholas ~ Naomi Shaw ~ Benjamin Russell ~ Gemma Parkes ~ Cassandre Dayne ~ Katie Harper Lisa Worrall ~ Aurora Rose Andromeda ~ JP Archer ~ Kendel Davi ~CR Guiliano ~ Rawiya


Crawl in Bed With Doris O'Connor

Crawling Into Bed With
Doris O'Connor
And a Good Book

Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?

Egyptian cotton - in my dreams. In reality just cheap old plain cotton, lol.

What are you wearing?

Fluffy stripy, bright pink pjs.  Well, it's cold out there and this way the baby doesn't get the wrong idea. Budge up, you'll squish him!
What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?

Chocolate in any and all forms *passes the biscuits*

If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?

My phone, my kindle, notebook and pen, my netbook, baby wipes and cream, bills, and errr *blushes* yes there is an explanation for those…

LOL Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?

I burrow into my duvet and wrap it round me, all snuggly like on one side, baby on the other, even more snuggly. We're sorted J

Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?

Only if you don't mind me screeching. Yikes that's cold. *glares at Lee and retaliates by sticking her cold hands down his top*

Hey!  That wasn't ... oh fine.  What are we reading?

Too Hot to Handle

Kitty’s heart beat a strange staccato against her breastbone. What had possessed her to slip back into her school girl outfit, she would never know. Yet here she was, dressed like some third-rate hooker, about to embark on a one night stand. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she knocked on the door of Alex’s hotel room. All was quiet on the other side, and she was just about to turn round when the door opened; and Kitty’s greeting stuck in her throat.
Dressed in nothing but low riding jeans, Alex smiled at her, and she hastily wrenched her eyes upwards from the incredible abs on display. Covered with a light dusting of chest hair that trailed down to his jeans, they would give any model a run for his money, and Kitty swallowed. Dressed he was bad enough, but like this he was breathtaking, and judging by that lazy smile he knew it, too.
“Room service around here just keeps on getting better.” Alex’s husky voice raised goose bumps on her exposed skin. “Coming in?”
He hooked one finger under her chin and tugged the end of her shirt tails with the other hand, forcing her to take a step toward him.
“I-I shouldn’t be here, really. I’m not sure why I’m even here.” Kitty mumbled the words, and heat spread into her cheeks.
Alex merely smiled and pulled her closer still. “Liar, we both know why you’re here. Question is, my naughty little girl, will you step through the door and expand your curriculum?” Alex’s heated whispers against her ear sent her heart into overdrive, and she leant into his warmth.  His clean, male scent wrapped itself round her senses, and her stomach flip-flopped in delicious anticipation. It had been so long since any man had held her. That had to be the reason for her immediate reaction to this man.
“Well, Sir, that all depends what you have in mind, because I have been very naughty.”
Alex went very still at her breathy statement, and Kitty bit her lip. Has she read this wrong? Was he not up for a little role-play? She hesitantly raised her eyes to his face to read his expression, and the heat in his gaze scorched her skin.
“So, I’ve heard. Come here, and take your punishment.” His deep voice had dropped several octaves, and he grabbed her by the wrist and spun her into the room. The door clicked shut, the sound loud in the quiet room, and before she could even blink, he had her pinned against the wall. One jeans clad thigh spread her legs wide, and he raised her hands high above her head, whilst his other hand blazed a trail of heat along her exposed tummy. His mouth claimed hers in a bruising kiss, and she opened to his quiet demand automatically. His tongue found hers in an erotic dance that left her jelly-legged, breathless, and grateful for his big body holding her up against the wall.
He groaned his approval when she kissed him back, and he deepened the kiss, his fingers slowly slipping south, until they dipped under the elastic of her thong.
“My, you are a naughty girl. What have we here?”
He chuckled into her neck, and Kitty gasped when he thrust one finger into her wet core.
“So wet already, and we’ve only just started.” He flicked her clitoris once, and the slight pain caused a renewed burst of moisture to coat his fingers as he inserted another finger into her and found her g-spot. Kitty moaned into his shoulder as sensations built deep inside her core, and he licked himself down the column of her throat towards her breast. She screamed when he bit one nipple through the shirt and bra and thrust her hips at him, desperate to reach the release his talented fingers were driving her toward.
“Not so fast. You’re being punished, remember.”
Alex smiled and withdrew his fingers.  He licked each digit in turn, murmuring his approval and then stepped back, his heated gaze roaming over her body. Kitty clenched her thighs together in a vain effort to relieve the hot ache in her pussy.
“Spread your legs, naughty girl.” Alex growled the demand, and Kitty’s eyes widened at the steely determination she saw in his face. “You will not come until I give you permission. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.”  Good God, does that porn star voice really belong to me?
Alex’s eyes narrowed, and Kitty automatically dropped her gaze. She licked her lips, seeing the huge erection straining the flies of his jeans. Oh my. He was clearly as turned on as she by their little game. But how far would he take this? And did she trust him enough to find out?
“Yes, what?” His deep voice held an edge of steel, and she bit back her moan. That voice alone would send her over the edge. Who’d have thought a little role-play could be so erotic?
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Now strip – slowly.”
Alex’s voice brooked no argument, and Kitty hastened to comply. She fumbled with the tails of her blouse until Alex stepped forward and ripped the thing clean off her.
“Not that slowly.”
His eyes wicked, he unhooked her bra and sent that, too, flying. He whistled his approval as her breasts fell free. He cupped each mound in turn, and spun her around and toward the double bed, which took up one side of the hotel room. The slap on her ass took her by surprise, and she yelped. He soothed the sting with his large hand massaging her ass cheeks, and he chuckled into her neck.
His fingers once again dipped into her wet folds, and she froze when he inserted one digit, slick with her juices, into her anus.  Heaven help her, that felt way too good. Heat spread across her skin, and Alex bit into her earlobe, as his fingers continued their erotic dance in and out of her forbidden passage, and her body betrayed her arousal by a renewed gush of moisture between her legs.
“That’s my naughty girl.” Alex’s erratic breathing into her neck pitched her own arousal sky high, and she put up no resistance when he urged her onto the bed, his naked, warm, torso heating her back.
“Get on all fours for me.”

Find Doris out and about at: 


DH Starr Trailer

Thought I'd share a little trailer for a book I'm looking forward to:


Welcome Guest: Sue Brown

This is blog number 3 today. I’ve been working up to this. The lovely Lee (and this man is lovely) said anything as long as there was no nudity. I can do that. You don’t want to see me naked anyway. That was a joke, Lee. I’d never subject your readers to that.
Hello, my name is Sue. I want to make a confession.
I would like to be a Pollyanna. Do you all remember Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter? She was an optimistic little orphan who turns the dispirited inhabitants of a New England town into happy, shiny people after she teaches them The Glad Game, making the best of every situation. Even when she loses the use of her legs, and feels miserable (as you might in the circumstances), everyone comes to visit her and encourages her to see the best of things.
Now, unfortunately, I am no Pollyanna. I would have told them to eff off. I’m not a glass-half-empty girl. I am reasonably optimistic and I do like to see the world being happy but I’m also cynical, and always waiting for the other shoe to drop. So why am I burbling about this?
In our little world there are an awful lot of people out to damage our fragile egos. Some do it unintentionally. Betas can trample over our manuscripts with the best of intentions. The hurt of a rejected submission. That one star review that leaves you weeping in the corner and declaring war on the reviewer’s first born.
There are also the people who tell you that you shouldn’t be here in their little playground; you don’t have the anatomy, you’re not gay/straight/black/white/Bagpuss or the Muppets. Whatever reason, there is always some reason why you shouldn’t be writing.
People say these hurtful words for a number of reasons. They genuinely believe what they are saying (preserve me from certain religious leaders), some have been affected by life experiences, and some people are just genuine arseholes who like causing trouble.
We are told over and over again don’t respond. Don’t cause a confrontation. It always backfires. It does. There’s no doubt about it. I hate confrontation, yet watching it unfold over the course of the days is nauseatingly mesmerising.
So what is the point of this blog? It does have a pointy part, I promise.
Sometimes the people you hurt when you go out, righteous swords waving to tell the villain exactly what you think of him or her, are not the intended recipients. Sometimes, it’s the quiet person in the corner who needed that person, or the one who looks up to them for reasons you know nothing about. Sometimes the person that is hurt is you, because people have long, long memories.
Maybe sometimes you need to think of the nice things, the happy things, think about playing the glad game, rather than the playground bully. Pollyanna maybe have been intensely irritating but I think she had the right idea in making the world a happier place.
Author Bio: Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn't following their orders, she can be found at university listening to lecturers discuss long-dead theologians. In her head, however, she's plotting how to get her cowboys into bed together; she just hopes the lecturer doesn't ask her any questions.

Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she's made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.

Excerpt for Light of Day

MAX saw Chris just before he left London. It took remarkably little time to hand in his notice and sublet his flat to one of the hotel staff. It was strictly against the terms of the lease, but Max’s landlord didn’t care as long as the rent was paid on time. He’d booked his flight to Dallas before he met Chris for coffee at their usual café. 
Chris glanced up at him from reading the newspaper as he slid into the booth they called “theirs.” The cracked and dirty plastic upholstery with the yellow foam exposed seemed almost like home away from home now. 
“Jesus, son, you look like shit.” 
“Why, thanks, Chris. You’re so good for my ego.” Max slumped down on the seat, looking for the waitress to take his order.
“He did a real number on you, didn’t he?” Chris looked angry.
Max was touched by his concern. “It was my own fault…,” he began.
He jumped as Chris slammed his fist down on the Formica table.
“Too fucking right it is! Are you a total fucking moron? What did I tell you? What were my rules? 
“‘Don’t look, don’t touch, and definitely don’t fondle the merchandise,’” Max quoted obediently.
“They were rules two, three, and four. What was rule number one?”
Max pressed his lips together. He wasn’t a fucking child, and he didn’t need to be pulled over Chris’s knee in public for a spanking.
“The first rule, Max. After the last fucking time you got yourself into this state? What was the first rule?”
“If they’ve got a dick, don’t offer them a seat in the cubbyhole.”
Chris tapped the table with his fingernail. “And what did you do?”
“Invited him into the cubbyhole.”
 “And what did he have?”
 “A big, thick dick. It was just a shame he didn’t get the chance to shove it into my cubbyhole.” Max said crudely, but he was unable to prevent the flush at the memory of exactly where he had shoved it. 
Rolling his eyes, Chris said, “And did you ask him before or after he checked in?”
Max glared at him. “It wasn’t like that. He asked for a drink.”
Chris sighed. “There’s a fucking bar, Max. Most people have a drink in the bar. You don’t have to fuck them all.”
 “I didn’t, I don’t,” Max protested. But he had. He fucked Robert ’til the man was a boneless mess beneath him. He shivered.
 “No?” Chris gave him the fish-eye. “Do you even bother to say hello? Or do you just go straight for the fucking?” His voice was rising and Max saw the couple in the next booth look over. 
 “You wanna say that slightly louder, Chris? I don’t think my mom heard you.”
 “Sorry.” But Chris didn’t sound sorry. He sounded pissed.
“Look, I’m sorry, I know I’m stupid to keep doing the same thing.”
Max stopped when his plate of eggs and bacon was put in front of him. Rosie, the elderly waitress, was the same one who had served them since they discovered the café in the railway arches.
She looked at him critically. “You look like death, luv. Been burning the candle at both ends, have we?”
He gave her a wan smile. “Something like that.”
“You need to find a nice boy of your own to settle down with,” Rosie told him.
Choking on his first mouthful of eggs, Max reached for his glass of water. Through the tears streaming from his eyes, he saw Chris cracking up.
“He’s not so good at understanding the part about finding a man of his own… Ow! Fuc….” Swallowing the curse, Chris clutched his bruised shin, newly decorated by the toe of Max’s sneakers.
Rosie patted Max on the shoulder and left them alone. 
Chris glared at Max. “That fucking hurt, dude.”
“Tough.” Max forked more eggs into his mouth. He swallowed and said, “I’m going back home.” When Chris didn’t say anything, Max looked up. “Say something.”
Shrugging, Chris pushed his empty plate away. “What is there to say? I think it’s a good thing.”
 “You do?”
 “Uh-huh. You’re fucking up here, son. Go home. Screw up over there. Your mom can look after you instead.”
“You’re all heart,” Max said drily.
Chris’s face softened. “Go home, Max. Let your momma look after you and get some perspective. You’re an intelligent guy stuck in a dead-end job. That’s why you keep doing these stupid things. Go back to school and get a real degree. Do something with your life.”
Max grinned at him. “I’m gonna miss you, y’know?”
“Gonna miss you too, fucker.” Chris sat back, letting out a satisfied belch. “I’ve been thinking of going home too. It’s time I went somewhere that can cook a steak without incinerating it.”
“Thought you hated the thought of going back to Hicksville?”
“Yeah, well, America’s a big country. One or two places are even civilized; somewhere there must be a place for me. And at least they understand what I’m saying. I get sick of having to repeat myself to these hoity-toity nonces.” 
Laughing at Chris’s appalling upper-class English accent, Max picked up his empty coffee cup and waved it at Rosie. Today was a day for changes. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

You can find Sue’s HEAs here – well, kind of HEAs: http://suebrownsstories.blogspot.com/


Story Orgy Presents: Round Robin

Happy Anniversary to our Story Orgy Readers

 from the Story Orgy!


It's been a year!


Hard to believe!

We've had a fabulous time,

And to celebrate

We've done...

Something new...

Something ...BOLD

We've started a Story Orgy blog- only for special occasions, mind you,

Our regular posts will stay right here where you're accustomed to seeing them!

And we've written our first Round Robin story!

On January 30th, 2012

We'll be posting episodes every three hours from 6 am to 6 pm on the

Table of Contents

6 – Chapter 1- JR Boyd

9- Chapter 2- Em Woods

12- Chapter 3 - Hank Edwards

3-  Chapter 4- Havan Fellows

 6– Chapter 5 - Lee Brazil

And, as a thank you for all your support, and for making Word Play Love Romances Cafe's Best Anthology of 2011, one lucky commenter on each post will receive a copy of Word Play.

Everyone who comments will get a surprise! 

Be Yourself

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955