But You’re a … Girl ~ Writing What’s in Your Heart

I had a very good friend of mine stop me dead in my tracks with an email the other day. Yes. Dead. In my tracks. How, you might wonder? She actually asked a simple question but it’s not a simple answer.

You wrote a male/male story. But you’re a girl. How is that possible?

You might be cocking your head the same way I was. At first I thought, how is it not possible? I mean, parts are parts and they go in the same general slots. Right? But then I thought on it a little longer. Oh, and I stared at the email a little longer. How was this possible?

Ok, so yes, I sat flummoxed at my computer for quite a while. I had no answer that would make a heck of a lot of sense. But something another friend said, came to mind. Now mind you, we come from totally different backgrounds and situations, but we’re friends—good friends to be exact.

What did she say? The question posed to the both of us was this: why not write interracial?

My answer: Um, I’ve never had a whole lot of experience outside of white bread Ohio. (Honest truth at the time)

Her answer: well, you’re a girl. I’m a girl. We pee the same, right? The color of our background and the situations we live in should only make the story richer.

I don’t mean this in any ill manner, but I thought, holy crap…she’s right. Just because I’ve never done something doesn’t mean I can’t write about it. So, I translated it into writing sexual stories.

I’m a girl, yes. But having sex is a rather universal thing. Most all of us…do it. A little healthy research, some photograph reference, and asking lots of questions can get you lots of answers. Some answers you might not want, but hey, can’t have everything.

So what did I tell my emailing friend? I said…Heya. Hon, I’m not a man and never claimed to be (wouldn’t that confuse the cabana boys?). But I’ve had my share of fun and I know the mechanics of sex, be it tab A into slot B or tab A into slot A. It all works about the same—okay, so some needs a little more lube. You’re blushing, aren’t you? Good. I’m trying to get into the character’s head. I’m trying to show their feelings through sexual situations. If I get it right, cool. If I get it wrong, I’m sure there will be a lot of people out there willing to tell me. I write what I like and what the characters want to be.

Do you want to know what her reply was? Thought you might.

Her reply was this: You’re still not a guy, but trust you to be a perv. You’re always trying to push the envelope and be drastic. One of these days you’ll get into trouble. 

Yeah, that was the answer. I chalk it up to this–she didn’t get the answer she wanted. I assume she wanted me to say, well, now that you’re offended, I won’t write that. Or maybe something like OMG you’re right. I never looked at it your way.

But I didn’t. We’re still friends, but we don’t talk as much. She is right in one part. I live for trouble. Seems to be my best buddy and we skip off down the lane together on a daily basis.  If I had a tattoo, I’m sure trouble and I would have matching ones.

So as I sit here typing the last part of this essay, I leave you with this—write what’s in your heart no matter color, creed, persuasion and be true to it. You’re writing for you and if others like it, fantastic. But if you don’t love it first and foremost, look for what you do love.

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Sunday Snog ~ The Air I Breathe by @MeganSlayer

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Find the other snogs here: http://victoriablisse.co.uk/blog/sunday-snog

It’s time for the Sunday Snog and I’m featuring an oldie, but a goodie. The Air I Breathe. Check it out!!

The Air I Breathe by Megan Slayer ms_theairibreathe_renee

ISBN: 978-1-60521-728-4

Word Count: 17K

Page Count: 56

Price: $3.99

 

Cover Artist: Reneé George

Genres and Themes: Erotic Romance; Novella; Paranormal; Magic; BDSM; Gay and Lesbian

Sometimes the one who drives you the craziest is the very one you can’t live without.

When Taygan walked, Luc thought he’d never see his best friend again. That’s fine. Luc’s busy with his band, Glow, and isn’t really interested in having a love life. There’s just one small glitch. He’s lonely without Tay, and his pride can’t take losing him again. It’s up to Luc to decide, but can he live with his decision?

Taygan thought he could handle his element and have a permanent relationship with Luc — until the need to follow the wind element took over. But being away from Luc is killing Tay’s element. To make things worse, Luc’s not waiting around for Tay any longer. What’s a guy to do when his lover is the very air he breathes?

Available at: AllRomance EbooksAmazon, and  Barnes and Noble

And now for some snoggin’!

Luc silenced him with a kiss. Tay sighed and melted into the fire in the connection. Luc slipped one hand between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around Tay’s erection. “This tells me you love this. I want to hear it.”

“Goddess,” Tay moaned. Wisps of air swirled around him. “Yes, I love it.”

Luc arranged Tay’s legs over his, balls to balls, cocks tangling together. More breeze whipped around Tay and rustled Luc’s hair. “Then let’s indulge. Embrace what we have.” He grabbed one of Tay’s hands and placed it under his. “Like this. I want to feel you surrounding me with your element.”

Each stroke resonated down into Tay’s core. His balls throbbed against Luc’s. Heat from Luc’s body filled Tay and buoyed his spirits. Not only his strength, but his element increased. He ground his hips into Luc’s pelvis. The intimacy of the act struck Tay. They’d played plenty of times, but this was something more sacred and earthy. He drew in a long breath of air and held it until his lungs burned. The swirling air strengthened to a brisk wind and blew Tay’s hair off his face. Luc’s sandalwood scent wafted around Tay like a caress.

“I don’t know how you do this, but you make me so crazy.” Luc groaned and thrust his fingers into Tay’s hair, tugging him closer. “I can feel you inside me, like this is how it’s supposed to be — one heart, one deep love. There’s no one else in the world, just us.” Gentle nibbles turned to rough kisses. Luc thrust his tongue in and out of Tay’s mouth as if they were having sex.

Tay sighed. He loved how Luc’s words worked perfectly for song lyrics.

The curtains flapped, and the ends of the towel flipped over. Cups fell off the counter with a melodic plink, plink, plink. Tay wrapped his legs tighter around Luc and whimpered. He needed this — needed the domination with a sprinkle of pain, needed to know where he belonged and just how much he meant to Lucien, needed the words of love.

In the Mood ~ Thursday Inspiration

I write romance and it tends to be on the hot side. Why? The easy answer is I can’t get my characters to be behave. It’s the truth. The harder answer? I like inspirational books, I do. But I love books where the characters have the freedom to be as hinky kinky as they want to be. I like reading about characters who are expressing all their desires and needs in a safe environment.

Now that said, there’s this small issue of getting in the mood. Those who know me well know I don’t really hold back. My filter is usually broken. I tell you what’s on my mind, how I feel and don’t hold back. My one friend will say I am the most unrestrained of the Wild Women over at the Menagerie. She’s right. I am. Take me as I am, love me or hate me, but let me be me.

So back to the point. What about getting in the mood to write those hot, hot scenes? What does it take? Glad you asked.

My characters run the gamut from m/f to m/m, to m/m/f, to m/f/m. They are paranormal and contemporary mainstream. I have a lot of friends who are of every walk of life and persuasion. Sometimes all I need to get in the mood to write a scene is just to hang out with them. You’d be surprised how much you can work with just by sitting at a table talking with your friends. Now, I do have the disclaimer, if you say something I can possibly use, know it will end up in a book.

What if I need a little more than that? There’s always pictures and music. Writing sex means you have to be in the right frame of mind. Trust me. You never want to try to write white hot sex while in a bad mood. It just falls off the tracks. You probably don’t want to write sex if you’re depressed. Both happen to me as they happen to everyone. So to get myself in the mood, I tend to crank up the tunes. Something by Nine Inch Nails, Theory of a Deadman, or Disturbed works well. I also like to peruse photos. Not those photos, although they work rather well, too, I mean just looking at the photos that best resemble the character. Yep. I think about what that character might be thinking in the throes of lovemaking and run with it.  Yes. I run rather far with them.

So that’s a peek into my mind and what I use to get in the mood. If you write hot, what gets you in the mood? If you’re a reader, what books get you in the mood? I’d love to know!

So They Said…No Thanks – Dealing with Rejection

I’ve been asked many times over my short career how I deal with rejection. At first I thought, why are you obsessed with knowing? I mean, it’s no fun being rejected. You know? Who likes to talk about that kind of stuff? It’s painful and plus, it can be taken extremely personally. But it happens and often.

In this day and age of self-publishing, some authors ignore the rejection and simply put the book out themselves. There’s nothing wrong with being headstrong and believing in your work.I believe in mine, but I also love my editors. I wouldn’t be where I am without them.

So I thought about the idea of rejection some more and realized this isn’t something to be swept under the rug or ignored.  We all deal with the not so fun things in life differently, but if one can come up with a way to make it a little less yucky we want to share it. We’re all playing for the same team–the team called being an author.

So, how do I deal with rejection? Speaking as I’ve had it happen quite recently and many times over the years, here’s my recipe for dealing with the big N-O.

First, I tend to read the email until it’s unreadable. I have the things memorized. This is what’s not quite up to part and this is what could be improved. It’s a little harder when there’s nothing other than the dreaded thanks but no thanks. It’s a little more difficult figuring what to work on when there’s nothing really spelled out.

Second, I tend to fire up the iPod and listen to the angry, loud, heavily-laden guitar tunes really, really, LOUD. I’ve got to get that pent up frustration out somehow (and since these things tend to come when the Cabana Boys aren’t around…). It works.

Third, I do one of two things. I either set the manuscript aside and let it percolate for a day or two. I don’t let it fester too much longer than that or I just chuck it for good and that’s never good. Or, if I do decide to work on it I do it right away. This has meant some really, really late nights twiddling, tweaking, and no cabana boys are involved. I’d love to say this has worked wonders, staying up and fixing. In reality, some of the sessions have produced some great passages while others just died on arrival.

Isn’t that what writing and creating is? Some really works while some doesn’t. What works for one publisher might not work at all for another.  What you thought would originally rock in the story could in all honesty fall flat. Can you work with the rejection or just quit?

Now that I’ve gotten all philosophical on you… I try, even though it’s really hard sometimes, to remember that this story might not be right, but it can be right. Someone will be willing to make the diamond shine—even if it has to be me before I send it out into the world again. You have to do what you have to do if you want to get past the hurt of rejection and find the sweet victory in those fantastic words, “I’d love to publish this work with you. Here’s your contract.”

In closing, my advice is this: give yourself time to be hurt. It’s going to for a little bit. Then keep plugging away. Giving up is the ultimate rejection. Keep going, keep believing, and you’ll get there. You’ve got my vote!

Thursday Thirteen with Megan Slayer

I thought for today I’d do something a little different and yet similar to others. A Thursday Thirteen post. Thirteen things you might not know about Megan Slayer. Here we go:

13: I can’t tie a cherry stem with my teeth. Okay, I’ve never actually tried, but for some reason it doesn’t really interest me. Sad, I know.

12: I love a good red wine and beer makes me turn up my nose. Yes, I am picky.

11: I have a college degree in Fine Art.

10:  I am scared to death of needles.

9:  I love history, especially the Civil War era, but I doubt I’d ever write a book set in that time period because it’s been done—a lot.

8: I am not a morning person. Get me up before 9 am unless it’s to get the youngling to school and I’ll probably bite your head clean off. Conversely, if I do have to get up, I’m up for the morning. I can’t go back and nap. Dang it.

7: I hate laundry. My wish is for a washing/drying machine that not only washes and dries the clothes, but also folds and puts it away. I’m still waiting.

6: Yes, I still have a blankie. It’s not currently in use as it’s falling apart, but I have it still.

5: I might be short of stature, but as my best friend, Kealie and I proclaim: We are fun-sized.

4: I have a big dog and a little dog…and now a huge dog. I wanted the German Sheppard. The youngling wanted a wiener dog. We now have three dogs. None are the Sheppard but that’s okay.

3: I wanted to be a beautician when I was a kid. I wanted to cut, style and color hair. To this day, I still cut/color my own hair. Can’t find anyone I trust to do it for me. Sad.

2: I can’t drive a stick shift. Don’t know that I want to learn. Meh.

1: I live in oHIo but I’ve never been to the Horseshoe down in Columbus. You’d think almost all Buckeyes would go there at one time. I haven’t made the trip. Yet. And yes, oHIo isn’t a typo. Buckeyes want the rest of the world to say HI to oHIo and come for a visit. Cheesy, but catchy.

You Can’t Do That!

Édouard-Henri Avril [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Authors, like artists and musicians have boundaries. Most won’t readily admit to them, but they do. Yes, there are those who are trying to push said boundaries, but they all have things they just won’t do. I love characters that push the limits but there are some things I just won’t write about.

I have a dear friend who said once, write what you are good at and sure, try new things, but know what you’re good at so you can exploit it. As much as I like to step out of my comfort zone, there are some steps I won’t take.

I give all the credit in the world to those authors who can write hardcore bdsm. I love to read it, but even when I’ve pushed my characters to try to go harder, they just aren’t right for it. Is that bad? Honestly, no. I’ve read plenty of hot stories where someone used a flogger or a whip. It was hot and the characters were into it. Great. My characters? Somehow they have an aversion to being hit. Spanked, yes, whipped… not so much.

Part of it has to do with me personally. I can read about it and get it, but I can’t comprehend being the one being whipped. I’m a wimp. I don’t like being hurt. Like I said, I can ‘get’ the fetish, but can’t write it in a way I feel does the action justice.

I’m okay with that.

Another thing I can’t seem to write is two girls. The boys have asked me to write them a story where there is more than one woman participating. Two separate ménages? Sure. A foursome with three guys? Absolutely. A foursome where the two women are pleasuring each other? Not gonna happen. I have nothing against two women pleasuring each other, it just doesn’t interest me. Shrug. I have to really buy into the relationship of the characters and that sort of relationship in a story is hot but not for me.

Now before you want to string me from the highest yardarm, think about it this way. I write what excites and interests me. You read what excites and interests you. It’s great. It’s variety. It works. What you like might not be what I like, but we both might enjoy reading the same kind of story. That’s what makes the world go round—all of us having and doing what we like. So check out my work. You might just like it. I’ll check out yours or your suggestions. I might just find a great new to me author. I can’t wait.

Sunday Snog ~ Blue Moon by @MeganSlayer #SundaySnog

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Find the other Sunday Snogs right here: http://victoriablisse.co.uk/blog/sunday-snog

It’s Sunday Snog time again and I wanted to pull out one of my older and favorite titles, Blue Moon. Now before you ask, yes I did get an ear worm while writing this book. The song played so much. But it was also another stab (bad pun) at a ghost story. What if the ghost could come back? What if a deal with the devil was possible? Blue Moon is my way of finding out. Read on and enjoy the kiss!

Blue Moon by Megan Slayer BLUE

Part of the Scare This collection

MLR Press

M/M, Anal Sex, Masturbation

Contemporary, Paranormal, Ghosts

Short Story

 

The ghost at my door claims to be my ex-boyfriend, back from the dead. Yeah, right.

Ghosts don’t exist. I know they don’t. Why? I’ve never seen one. I’ve seen everything else—from Sasquatch to hell hounds and more…even vampires, but I’ve never laid eyes on a ghost.

Go figure. It’s Halloween. All sorts of stuff happens on the spookiest night of the year. There will be plenty of people out having a good time, scaring each other and begging for candy. They’ll try to get me involved, but I know better.

Have I mentioned I hate Halloween? Two years ago on October 31st, my world fell apart and I know it’ll never be fixed. No ghost can ease my broken heart and bring my boyfriend back to me. None.

Available here:

MLR Press: http://www.mlrbooks.com/Bookstore.php?bookid=MSBLUEMN

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Blue-Moon-Scare-This-Book-ebook/dp/B00P5BGGVQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1414969714&sr=8-1&keywords=megan+slayer+blue+moon

AllRomance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-bluemoon-1660780-340.html

Now for that snog…

©Megan Slayer, 2014, all rights reserved

“Let me show you just what you can handle.” Tristan bridged
the gap between them until their knees touched. He sat across
from Paul and curled his fingers under Paul’s chin. God, it felt
good to touch his lover again. He didn’t consider them former
lovers because he’d never fallen out of love with Paul and he
knew full well Paul hadn’t found another lover. He eased Paul’s
hands down and gazed into his eyes. The amber and brown flecks
glimmered in the light.
“A ghost can’t do this.” Tristan leaned forward until his
lips were a whisper away from Paul’s. “A ghost can’t kiss.” The
moment their mouths met, he rejoiced. He missed kissing Paul,
so much.
As quickly as he’d made the connection, Paul backed away
from him. He scrambled across the bed from Tristan and swatted
his forehead twice. “This is a dream. I’m imagining you. Please
wake up. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I’m tired and I miss you,
but I can’t keep imagining you. I can’t handle the pain. It’s too
much.”