Showing posts with label Sue Brown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sue Brown. Show all posts

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Day 5 Michael's 70K Bash - Sue Brown

 Good morning! I'm so excited for today's guest. Not that I don't enjoy the others but this one is special. This is my hero. I tell her that all the time. I love every book I've read by Sue Brown and I have more to read but better late than never! *smirks* If only I could stop reading Morning Report over and over. Only 2 times at count but I will be reading it again because I love these characters! 

Please give a warm welcome to Sue Brown!
                                             


Dear World,

Once upon a time I decided to write about cowboys. Actually that’s getting ahead of myself. I was writing a fanfic story called Nothing Ever Happens. It was a chaptered story, and I wrote it over a period of eighteen months. It would have taken a lot less than that only someone I trusted tore it to shreds three-quarters of the way through, and my mind just went blank. I couldn’t pick NEH up for months. I was stuck with major writer’s block. So what to do? Let’s start another story.

I had just read Bareback by Chris Owen. Cowboys *shiver*. I investigated lots of cowboy stories. At the time my pairing hadn’t tackled that in their program, after all, it was over three years ago. But oh, the thought of them on horseback, riding the open range… Oh blow it, I wanted cowboys. And so the Cowboy Verse started. It never got a proper name.

It was only intended to be a light fluffy piece (yeah, Nothing Ever Happens was intended to be as well). Within two chapters Luke and Simon’s world had crumbled and it was full on hot, possessive cowboys and lots of angst in Morning Report, Seriously, that title was a gift.

Of course then it got published, and I thought, hmmm, could I write another one? Who would I have as my heroes? Well, the answer leapt out at me. Pastor Noah and the virgin ranch hand, Tommy. A totally different dynamic to Luke and Simon. One of the elements I loved most about it was Tommy’s residual feelings for Luke. I felt it was important to acknowledge it still existed, even as he fell in love with Noah.

One of the major criticisms of Morning Report was that I didn’t tie up the storyline of the nasty Pastor Jackson. My answer is that Morning Report was never about him. It was about the town’s reaction to a couple they had known for years.

I didn’t tie it up in Complete Faith either. If anything, things got worse for our heroes. But I knew I wouldn’t get away with it forever and there had to be a conclusion to the storyline. I hope that in Papa’s Boy readers find the resolution to The Case of the Evil Pastor.
And just in case you think that Luke and Simon have been forgotten… read a one-off story in Luke's Present.

***Comments on this blog will be entered to win Sue's final book in this amazing series, Papa's Boy! Please leave your email and remember, every comment is entered into the Triad GC giveaway!


Author Bio
Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn't following their orders, she can be found plotting at her laptop. In fact she hides so she can plot and has got expert at ignoring the orders.
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.

Sue can be found at her website, her blog, Twitter and her Facebook

Enjoy the book trailers for Complete Faith and Papa's Boy





Thursday, August 9, 2012

Author Spotlight Sue Brown


I'm very excited about this spotlight. She's my favourite author and Sheila was just the person to ask her in depth questions about her writing. Love this lady very much. She's so sweet and I hope to meet her someday. 

Please enjoy the interview with Sue Brown!

Friday, March 30, 2012

Stolen Dreams - Sue Brown

Morning! 


Can I just say how much I love Sue Brown? We met virtually last year and when I was a more of a nobody than I am now, she had me on her blog and allowed me to feature several of my stories. 


Every time I speak to her through email, I feel as though I'm not worthy. I love this woman's style and wish I could bottle it and make it my own. No really, I won't go that far, but I do love her stories. If I didn't write myself, I'm sure I'd be all the way through her backlist.


Anyway, a promo for her newest story, Stolen Dreams is here. 


This is the question I asked her to answer:


MM: What inspired you to do the book, Stolen Dreams? Why the title?

SueB: I was bought in an auction to write a story. The poor lady had to wait for me to finish my uni work and other deadlines. Then when we discussed it, she gave me her ideas, and I wrote something else. But if it hadn't been for her I'd never have thought of Stolen Dreams. The title comes through in several respects, but mainly because my heroes had their hopes and dreams stolen by someone else.

How about a blurb and buylink?

Blurb:   In a moment of madness, Morgan cheated on his best friend and lover, and Shae walked out without looking back. Five years on, and Morgan has a new life. He is engaged to a tempestuous and passionate Hollywood actor, Jase, and his career as an assistant movie director is thriving.


The last thing Morgan expects is for Shae to walk back into his life. It is clear from the start that he is still deeply attracted to Shae, and that feeling is returned. What is also obvious is that everyone else can see it, including his fiancé.


As Morgan and Shae get to know each other again, they discover the extent that friends meddled in their lives to keep them apart five years previously. Morgan finds that he cannot deny the fact he is still in love with Shae, but he is engaged, and Shae has secrets that he is not prepared to share. Morgan has some hard decisions to make as he struggles not to hurt the men that he cares about
 


Monday, February 27, 2012

Welcome back Sue Brown!

Greetings readers. Welcome to Michael's. Today I'm happy to have on Sue Brown, my favourite author. She really is. I love every book i've read by her. I'm about ready to read Nothing Ever Happens and Night Porter, two of her most gutwrenching novels. Here is the sequel to one of them, let's see what she has to say about writing m/m and romances!


* * * *



Yesterday, my son finally found out I wrote sex scenes. His response?
“Ewwww, can’t  you write about rainbows and unicorns, or something?”
Um, no, my son. You see, I’m not so hot at writing the rainbows and unicorns stories. Unless the unicorns were having it away as they slid over the rainbow. Hey wait, Sue, would that upset PayPal? From now on, I have to make sure my stories conform to the prescribed laws detailed by a banking organisation.
Eh? When did a bank decide what I write? I’m prohibited from writing certain acts because it upsets who exactly? Who are you? I want to know. If you are going to stop me writing acts for ‘titillation’ I want to know who you are and why you decided to poke your big nose in where it wasn’t wanted.
Now, hands up, I haven’t written any of those acts on the prohibition list and am unlikely to. But I don’t like being told I can’t by some faceless organisation in a country I don’t even live in.
Ah, but Sue, you’re being a tad hypocritical here.  What about other prohibited physical acts on publishers’ submission guidelines? Some of those you even like.
(A hint for would be authors here… READ THE GUIDELINES!)
Back to the pointy part.
When I started looking for publishers, I took note of the things they don’t like. Not many, but I made sure my stories respected that list. So what is different from respecting PayPal’s list?  Well, for a start, I know the owners of my publishers. They aren’t some dictatorial institution censoring me from far, far away. Maybe their prohibited list came from interference from PayPal previously. I don’t know.
So boys, what is next on the list to prohibit? The obvious one is GBLTQ stories because certain peeps sure hate the gays. We shall wait and see.
In conclusion, I’d like to point out there’s a certain book, and certain other books, that I am sure have not been banned from sale. If one reads this certain book, then one shall most certainly find one or two of those banned acts in the first part of the book, in the chapter certain peeps are so very fond of quoting to deny others their rights. It might have been written for titillation but it sure as hell exists in there.

Light of Day
Sequel to The Night Porter
The first time Max laid eyes on Robert Armitage, he knew exactly what he wanted to happen. But Max was just a night porter and Robert a guest at the hotel before his wedding, and Max knew even as they slept together that in the morning he’d have to send the groom on his way. Max’s heart was broken when Robert left, and so he ran home to Texas. When Robert’s marriage failed, Max waited for Robert to come looking for him, and waited….
 A year later, Max’s dreams come true and Robert finds him, but there’s a catch, and Max has to decide if he wants Robert enough to be satisfied with hiding their relationship.
Excerpt
Friday afternoon
 “HEY, honey, do you want a soda?”
His mother’s musical voice penetrated his doze. Max dragged himself out of his stupor to answer, “No thanks, Mom,” and burrowed back down in the hammock, trying to recapture the dream again—the one where Robert had actually returned—instead of the reality. 
Reality was that, a year later, Max was back home in Dallas. Max had watched Robert walk out the door and known it was the last time he’d be in the same room as the young actor. Robert was the last man to take Max’s body and, worse, his heart, stomping on it as he ran to his little bride. The bastard had even gone one step further. He’d kissed Max as he’d left, a slow and tender kiss that promised Westley his Buttercup would wait for him instead of running off to marry another prince. Max shook his head. It wasn’t fucking fair. There was no coming back from a marriage. In fact, Max preferred they didn’t look back. At least he had nothing to hang onto then, no images to trouble his dreams. Once his favorite movie, now he hated The Princess Bride for promising him a fairy tale that would never happen.
Reality was Max spending his Friday afternoon off in the hammock in his parents’ backyard. Max had been home just over a year and worked as a day manager at one of the anonymously boring, big-chain, midrange hotels in Dallas. Boring and generic the hotel might be, but Max actually liked his job. He’d been thinking of going back to study hotel management. The empathy that had proved his strength and downfall in London he channelled here into looking after the guests and staff, while keeping himself distant from the stream of good-looking men passing through his doors. He spent most of his time in his own apartment, but he couldn’t resist the occasional invitation from his mom to spend an afternoon snoozing in the backyard or the lure of a home-cooked dinner. 
Max closed his eyes and tried to recapture the dream. Reality was fucking shit.  
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.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Final Day Chasing the Dream - Sue Brown

Good Sunday!

Today we have great author and good friend, Sue brown on the blog today. Sue is one of my favorite authors, writer of my fave book of the year,  Morning Report as well as other critically acclaimed stories, Mr. Plum and Nothing Else Happens.

Please listen to Sue as she talks about her story!

Inspiration for the story: A man walks into a bar... the start of a million old jokes, however in this case should he actually walk into the bar at all? Let me go back a bit. A friend of mine wrote a wonderful piece of fanfiction called Racing Raindrops. I loved the title so much I unashamedly pinched it. I wanted to write a story about a man who has to make a decision; does he take a single step into a bar and acknowledge what he is, or does he run away and carry on being the dutiful son, so far into the closet the padlock has rusted. Tony decides to let fate make that decision for him. Whichever way the raindrops roll decides whether he makes that step into the unknown. Only fate... she is a fickle lady.

Excerpt: Racing Raindrops by Sue Brown

The sudden rain shower caught Tony by surprise. He looked for options to wait it out before continuing his journey to the grocery store, relihe street. Making a sudden detour, Tony avoided falling over a stroller filled with a sleeping toddler. He apologized to the outraged mother and headed for the door, her angry shouts following his progress. It was dark and warm inside Mac's Bar, a welcome relief from the heavy raindrops.

Shaking his head to clear the water from his face, Tony froze on the doorstep, nerves coiling in the pit of his stomach, as he suddenly realized what kind of bar it was. He could find another bar. This wasn't the only establishment along the street. Or he could grow a set and take the final step, a rite of passage to acknowledge that he wasn't as arrow straight as he told the world. If he stepped over the threshold, there would be no going back.

It was just a frigging gay bar, for fuck's sake. The world wasn't going to shake just because Tony DiMarco took a drink in a fag bar.

Maybe not the whole world, but his little part of Manhattan would be shaken to its very core. There was a good chance his momma and poppa would never talk to him again. Anthony DiMarco III, son of fourth generation Italian storekeepers, the first DiMarco to go to college, an internee every summer for their local senator, a rising star in local politics--there was no way they were going to accept he was a faggot.

"My boy's gonna go all the way to the top!" his poppa boasted to anyone who'd listen. He was so proud of his oldest son. Poppa wouldn't be so proud of Little Tony now, would he? Old Tony hated all queers and was proud to boast that the only time some fag came onto him, the fanuk lost all his front teeth. Tony shivered. There was good reason not to tell his Poppa that Little Tony liked the boys.
 
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.


* * * *

A great story as are all the tales in this antho. Now, today is your LAST chance to win a copy. I mean, you could buy one but with a comment, you can win it!

I hope you've enjoyed this!

Its been fun.

Join us tomorrow for more great talent from Silver Publishing. Julie Lynn Hayes and SL Danielson.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Taboo Tens: Day Nine Sue Brown

Good morning folks and welcome to day nine of the Taboo Tens!

Today, I am honored to have one of the best in gay romance fiction on my log, Sue Brown. She's a sweetie and the gal can really write!  I simply adored her book Morning Report and the book on the left is next on my Sue list!


Please give her your undivided attention and then comment to win her book!


Take it away, Sue!

*****


I was struggling to find a topic for today until I was listening to one of my favourite fandom podfics which was about two guys meeting via an *internet dating site*. Now please, when you’re reading this, every time we get to *internet dating site* it must be said in a stage whisper. The reason becomes clear later on.


Last Friday, I went to a wedding reception held in my neighbour’s garden. They met via an *internet dating site*. It’s a closely guarded secret so of course everybody knows, but for some reason, the couple consider that meeting your loved one via the internet, rather than in the pub or over the frozen food section of the local supermarket, is slightly shameful.


They aren’t the only ones. It’s so shameful, but everybody does it, it seems. We all have a computer and the temptation is just a mouse click away. Two of my family have met their significant others on the web, one in the very early stages of the industry. One is proud of it, for the other it’s a secret… which everyone knows.
I’m a singleton and have been for some years. Between working, writing, studying for my degree and looking after my family, dating is way down on the list of priorities. I have internet friends. I’m proud to say that a lot of my internet friends have become personal friends and I’ve had international friends to stay. One day, I’m going to have enough money to visit them.


Over the years I have got some funny looks from ‘real life’ friends for meeting my internet pals. Hmmm, now why would I want to meet them? Oh, maybe it’s because I can talk about M/M romance and slash, my fandoms, hot guys in compromising positions and the gay community. Try bringing that up during coffee after church.


People are interested in my dating status. Zero. Sex life also zero. That is always the second question. The third question is have you tried an *internet dating site*. No mate, I haven’t tried an internet dating site. Seriously, I don’t need to lower my voice. We aren’t talking about Voldemort. If I ever decide to look for a partner I won’t be lowering my voice just because I’m looking for my man/woman on a site with lots of other people looking for partners. Yep, there are some weirdos out there but I’ve been accosted by a couple of those at the local coffee shop.


So how do you feel about internet dating and friendships? Have you met your partner on the ‘net? Have you met your friends and what about discovering your soul mate?


I have met plenty of people who I would consider my perfect partner. They want to talk fandom, slash, hot guys and understand that the netbook is attached to my hip 24/7. Unfortunately they are all married already and/or on the other side of the world, or prefer dick – that one’s a bit of stumbling block. Ah well, I could always do a bit of writing while I’m waiting. Maybe my perfect partner is out there for me. If they are could they wait until my course is finished?

*****



BLURB
Andrew’s life is a cliché: he’s a gay man trapped in a loveless marriage, thanks to his religious, overbearing mother. Then a new couple moves in down the street, and Andrew finds himself falling for Nathan in a big way. Nathan is straight, married, and just about to be a father, but after one fateful night out together at a club, Nathan has to face the fact that his feelings for Andrew go way beyond that of a friend and neighbor.


 When Andrew’s wife asks for a divorce, both men’s lives are thrown into disarray. Arguments about their responsibilities to their wives and children, doubting themselves and each other, and some harrowing lies pull them apart… but they never leave each other’s thoughts.
Description: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/images/pixel_trans.gif


EXCERPT


Andrew watched the new couple with a cynical eye. Mr. and Mrs. Newlyweds, matching rings glinting in the sunlight, his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close. He could only see their backs as they were introduced to the neighborhood vultures, but Jesus, he was tall. Built like a brick shit house. His wife was tiny compared to Mr. Newlywed, barely coming up to his shoulders, yet from Andrew’s perspective she had him on a tight leash, her fingers hooked firmly though his belt loops. She wasn’t letting him go anytime soon. Andrew couldn’t hear them, but he could see the guy laughing at some wisecrack Allison had made.


He knew how this would pan out. An introduction at the cookout, polite smiles exchanged, then they would vanish behind the front door, only emerging for work and grocery shopping. No one was really friends here, not unless they had kids, and then it was play dates, carpools, and sneaky gins at two in the afternoon. Still, they had to pretend for the newbies—Allison’s orders.


If there was one thought in Andrew’s head at any of these neighborhood parties, it was how soon he could escape. No matter how much he drank, or how much he tried to fit in, every party was long and tedious, even with the agreement with Stephanie that, after showing willingness, he could retreat to his dark room. He was so tired of pretending to be something he wasn’t. Andrew Matthews, model husband, father, and town photographer. Andrew looked at his watch. Half an hour, then he could leave the neighbors to their amusements and disappear back to the darkroom. Twenty-nine minutes and thirty seconds. He took a swig of his beer. Idly, he wondered how long they had been married. A month? Six weeks tops. He predicted that in nine months time there would be a little Newlywed in a stroller, or… hello! Maybe next week, judging by the size of that stomach! Andrew found himself transfixed by Mrs. Newlywed’s belly as she turned around. Either they had been practicing before the wedding or Andrew’s intuition was way off. 


Hidden in the corner, Andrew was able to stare freely at the woman, noting her slightly swollen ankles in their strappy high-heeled sandals. He was surprised she could get them on. Despite her advanced pregnancy, she was a slender woman with delicate bone-structure. Andrew could see how attractive she was. Then for the first time he got a proper look at the man. Shit, he was young. Too young to be married and expecting a kid. He looked like a college jock on his first date, all shaggy hair and rippling muscles, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. 


“Don’t they look cute? All hearts and flowers. Sooooo in lurve.”


Andrew looked down at his wife. Stephanie was staring at them with something approaching dislike, her long fingers wrapped so tightly round a wineglass they showed white round the knuckles. He sighed quietly. They had never been like that. He watched the man, so young and in love, a big grin on his face as he hugged his wife close to his side. Andrew felt an emotion he hadn’t experienced for a very long time. He was jealous, envious of the love they were showing each other, and the smiles, the goddamned fucking affection. He and Stephanie had never looked at each other like that—ever. 


Taking another pull on the beer, he said, “Wait ’til the sleepless nights kick in. The hearts and flowers won’t count for a lot then.” Andrew looked at Stephanie’s glass. It was empty, as usual. He wondered how many glasses she had consumed. “Want another one?” He waggled his bottle at her. 


She nodded. “Yeah, why not. The booze is the only thing that makes this day bearable. I’m going to find out where Colin is. Be back in a moment.”


Andrew took her glass, then wandered off towards the kitchen. Allison and Jim’s house was the same as his, all gleaming white appliances in exactly the same place. He opened the large fridge to find it stocked top to bottom with wine. Allison was well known for taking these cookouts very seriously. Taking an open bottle of white wine, he topped up Stephanie’s glass right to the brim—otherwise she’d only complain—and closed the fridge door to look for the beer bucket. 


“Is there one in there for me?” Andrew looked up as he reached into the icy water to get a bottle. Mr. Newlywed was grinning at him, a hopeful expression in his eyes.


“Sure.” Andrew passed over the one he had been rooting for, then acquired a second one for himself. 


“Thanks.” The guy cracked it open and took a long pull, his moan of pleasure as the cool liquid hit the back of his throat almost obscene. Andrew tried hard not to stare. “God, I needed that.” He suddenly seemed to remember his manners, and wiping his hand on his jeans, he held it out. “Nathan Peterson. Just moved into number twenty-four.” 


Andrew refrained from his desire to laugh at him, merely shaking his hand and saying, “Andrew Matthews. My wife Stephanie and I live at number twelve.” Andrew stood over six feet, but this man dwarfed him both in height and physique; his handshake was firm but not bone crushing. Idly he wondered what he would look like in black and white, shirt off and wet. Maybe washing the car. Andrew preferred to take his photos where people were actually doing something. He realized he was holding onto his hand for too long when he caught Nathan’s amused expression. 


Laughing nervously, Andrew tried to make small talk. “So, have you met everyone yet? Remembered all their names?” 


“Not a single one. You’re Justin, right?” He grinned at Andrew’s appreciative snort. “To tell you the truth, it’s kinda overwhelming. We’ve only been here forty-eight hours.” 


“I’ll bet. Still, you’ll soon get to know us all, and you’ll be dragged to these events often enough. Allison and Jim love their ‘aren’t we all such good neighbors’ shindigs.” 


Nathan frowned, trying to remember who they were. “Small skinny blonde and older grizzled dude?” 
Andrew nodded. “Yeah. They run the neighborhood watch program. The rest of us just fall in line.” 


“Huh. Okay, I get the picture.” Nathan looked at his bottle. It was empty. He waved it hopefully at Andrew. 

“Any chance of another one?” 


Andrew waved his hand at the bucket. “Just help yourself. You never go home sober from one of these gigs. Not if you wanna stay sane.” He watched as Nathan dug around eagerly in the bucket for another bottle. “So, expecting your first child soon?” 


“You noticed?” Nathan seemed to be almost bouncing in excitement at the prospect. “Gummi bear?” He pulled out a half-empty bag of candy from his pocket. Bemused, Andrew nodded and dug into the bag. Pulling out a red one, he tipped his head back and tossed it into his mouth. 


Nathan continued, “Alex looks like she’s going explode any moment. I hope she doesn’t. Explode, I mean,” he added hastily at Andrew’s bemused look. 


“I guess this is your first then?” Andrew laughed outright. The dude was like a small kid himself.


Nathan laughed with him, not taking the slightest offense. “Certainly is. He’s due in four weeks’ time.” He proffered the gummi bears again. 


Picking a green one, Andrew bit the limbs off it before decapitating it and swallowing the body. 


“Jesus, what did that bear ever do to you?” Nathan had been watching the whole process in fascination. 


“Didn’t get the chance. I got him first,” Andrew said smugly, taking a drink although the bitter taste of the beer didn’t really mix well with the candy.


“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Nathan drawled. 


They grinned at each other, then Andrew asked, “A Texas boy?” 


Nathan tipped an imaginary Stetson and said, “Yes boss. San Antone born and bred.” 


Andrew pretended to groan. “Oh no. A Spurs fan? I think I may never speak to you again.” He spoke in a slow deep drawl, allowing the accent he normally suppressed to become more noticeable. 


“Wait a moment!” Nathan’s hazel eyes positively sparkled. “Do I hear me another escapee? Only, one from the wrong side of the tracks?” 


“Born in Dallas, moved to Santa Fe when I was ten,” Andrew confirmed. 


“Ah, a Mavs then?” At Andrew’s nod, the younger man hummed. “Not sure we should be talkin’, but as we’re both momma’s boys, shall we put aside our differences, at least until I whup your ass at Madden?” 
Andrew winced at the reference to his mother—Momma’s black sheep perhaps—but kept his smile glued to his face. For once, he liked this new addition to the area. He hoped Nathan wasn’t a hiding behind the front door type. “In your dreams, boy,” he drawled. 


Nathan whooped. “You are so on.” A challenging light entered his eyes. “How ’bout we escape from here and you pretend you can try and beat me?” He lunged forward to engulf a startled Andrew in a bear hug. Arms flailing, Andrew found himself smushed up against a cotton shirt. He inhaled the scent of laundry detergent, and beneath it sweat, and something he couldn’t define. His hands, trying to get a purchase on something solid, landed on Nathan’s back. Fuck, this guy was packing muscle. He made Andrew look like a stick insect. 


“Don’t you dare run away, Nathan Peterson.” A light, warm, female voice, trying to sound amused but with a clear thread of irritation, interrupted them. 


Andrew tried to disentangle himself and retain some dignity. He felt rather than heard Nathan chuckling, his chest vibrating under his cheek; then an arm slipped across his shoulders and he was turned to meet Alex. Strangely enough Nathan didn’t let him go, just tucking him under one arm as he said, “Hey darlin’, meet our new neighbor, Andrew. He’s a Mav, but don’t let that put you off.” 


Alex rolled her eyes. “Sorry for my husband, Andrew. He’s an overgrown puppy with the manners to match. Put him down, Nathan,” she commanded, much as she would talk to a young dog. 


“Drew doesn’t mind, do you?” And Andrew was squeezed for a second, before Nathan obediently dropped his arm and moved over to his wife, bending down to kiss her on the cheek. 


Andrew was torn between pointing out that if Nathan called him Drew again his balls would be in danger, and asking him to put his arm back. Then another arm went around his waist, sharp nails digging into his skin. 


“So, I was waiting for you to come back with my drink, and instead I find you groping the new neighbor. Quick work, Drew.” Stephanie had followed Alex into the kitchen and witnessed the whole display. 


Andrew was determined not to give his wife the satisfaction of seeing him blush. “You’re just jealous,” he answered, “because I got a hug and you didn’t.” 


Alex laughed, not noticing the undercurrents of tension between their new neighbors. “He mauls everybody.” She elbowed Nathan in the ribs. “Believe me. He doesn’t understand the concept of personal space.” 
Nathan held out his hands as if in surrender. “I’m just overly friendly. Anyway, Drew and I have a date for me to take him down.” 


Stephanie gave a thin laugh. “Much as I know he would love for you to manhandle him, Andrew’s promised to take his son to the park this afternoon.” 


A broad grin split Nathan’s face. Did this guy ever stop laughing? “You have a son as well?” 


“Yeah, Colin, he’s nine,” Andrew muttered. “Going into the fourth grade come September.” 


“Hey, Nathan is a fourth-grade teacher. He’s going to be teaching at Castleton Elementary.” Alex looked at her husband with such pride. 


To Andrew’s surprise, Nathan went bright red. “I’m newly qualified. This is my first job,” he admitted. 


“That’s Colin’s school. You’ll be teaching his class.” Stephanie surprised everyone by going to the kitchen door and yelling for her son. After a minute a thin, lanky boy came to the door. He was wearing shorts, no shirt, and was as usual, filthy dirty. Even his hated freckles, which he complained about at every opportunity, were virtually unnoticeable in the grime that covered his body. 


His mother steered him in the direction of Nathan. “Colin, meet your new teacher, Mr. Peterson.”


“Jesus, he’s enormous.” Colin’s jaw dropped as he looked at Nathan. 


Andrew was amused to notice both teacher and pupil looked highly embarrassed as everybody laughed. Stephanie nudged Colin. “What do you say?” 


“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Peterson,” he said politely.


His new teacher came to his rescue. “Nate, ’til September at least.” Nathan held out his hand and Colin shook it as he had been taught. “We’ll go back to Mister P the first day of school, okay?” 


Colin nodded. “Can I go now, Mom, pleeeease?” he whined, desperate to get away from his parents and, even worse, his new teacher. It was still vacation. Way, way too early to be thinking about school. 


“Ten minutes, then Dad is taking you to the park to play soccer.” Stephanie was firm.


Andrew snuck a look at his watch, sighing inwardly. So no chance of the darkroom first. He had been so close to escaping.


Colin was out of the kitchen door the second he got permission, almost knocking down Jim and Allison, who had come in search of the new neighbors. They rocked back as he sped past, then entered the kitchen, pleased to see Andrew and Stephanie making an effort with Nathan and Alex.


“Hey there. How are you all doing? Has everyone got a drink? Jim, we need some more beer. Nathan is almost out.” As usual, Allison took charge as soon as she entered the kitchen. She was considerably younger than her husband, but there was no doubt who was the driving force in their relationship. Jim seemed content to let her steam ahead, and in return she gave him a well organized home and affectionate, if bossy, attention.
Nathan gave them all his widest smile. Andrew was nearly blinded by the way the kitchen suddenly lit up. 


“I’m fine, thank you, Allison. I won’t have another one. I gotta walk the dogs this afternoon, and Drew here has invited me to play soccer with him and his boy.” 


Andrew choked on the last of his beer. As he spluttered out his apologies, gasping for breath, an enormous hand patted him on the back. 


“All right there, Drew? Trying to wuss out of our game? Give me ten to get changed and pick up the dogs and we’ll be on our way.”


Andrew looked up to see Nathan giving him a barely perceptible wink. Beside him, Alex looked thunderous. Allison beamed at them all. This was just what she enjoyed most, all her neighbors getting on so well. 
He grinned back at Nathan. An afternoon in the darkroom hiding from the world, or an afternoon in the sunshine whupping the ass—extremely nice ass—of his new friend, at soccer? No contest. “Think you can beat me and my boy? Bring it on.”

****

What an interesting blog and excerpt! I actually did date a couple of guys I met on the net but not from a dating site. It was scary at first but once you sit down and chat, it works out. As long as that person treats you right, its no different than meeting someone in a bar. 

:)

Okay fans, go comment so you can win the book. Sue and other fans have told me its a tearjerker. I'm ready for it!

Join us tomorrow as Patricia Logan will be with us with some hot m/m with the bondage flair!

Until then...

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Welcome, Sue Brown

MM: Today, I have the pleasure of interviewing Sue Brown, one of the best voices in M/M erotica romances. Thank you for joining us today.

So tell me, how long have you been writing?

Sue: Thank you for having me here. I’ve been writing for four years now. I was sleeping through a TV programme, and woke up to see two men kissing on screen. It was like a light switched on in my head, and since then I haven’t stopped writing. I started in fanfiction, finally being brave enough to offer a story, Sacrifice in Making Contact (published by Dreamspinner), last year.


MM: What is your favorite subgenre to write?


Sue: I haven’t found it yet. I’ve written cowboys, contemporary, scifi, paranormal, historical and threesomes. Angst – is that a subgenre? I always write angst.


MM: Is there one that you haven’t tried that you see yourself doing in the future?


Sue: I’d like to try BDSM, but I know nothing about the world. It makes me nervous about getting it wrong.


MM: In my opinion, erotica doesn't have to be real all the time to be enjoyable. What are your thoughts?


Sue: I'm a huge fantasy fan and sometimes I just want to read books where all the prejudices and problems that face homosexuals today can be completely ignored. I love reading about a world where attraction and love doesn't automatically attract blatant bigotry.

MM: Who are the authors that you look up to?


Sue: Marion Zimmer Bradley for writing The Catch Trap. It was the first time I read a love story for a gay couple. She also always had homosexual characters. In M/M erotica the first book I read was Bareback by Chris Owen. I blame her for my love of cowboys. I adore her books because I get invested in her characters. JL Langley for the sheer fun of her stories.


MM: What are you working on now?


Sue: I’m finishing up The Lords Tale, the final part of The Fitzwarren Inheritance with RJ Scott and Chris Quinton. I am in the middle of a novel about spousal abuse. I have two other novels planned this year.


MM: When creating your characters, do you have models in mind or are they totally fictional?


Sue: Initially I had the same guys in mind. I am predictable and I like big men. But as I write more the characters are changing, introducing other races and ages. No tentacles though. My aliens have been humanoid.


MM: As an M/M writer, do you feel that the trend is changing where it is becoming more mainstream?


Sue: I hope so, for my own sake. I don’t want to have to write a formulaic heterosexual romance to hit the mainstream. Like most authors I dream of seeing my books in the shops. I’m not giving up on my boys yet.


MM: As a fellow fem in the genre, what is your stance on the difference between male and female gay writers?


Sue: There is a difference and generally I can tell whether I’m reading a story written by a male or a female. There is an edge towards the physical element that male authors bring into their books. I read a male author saying that with female authors it is all about the journey but with men it is about the main event. Do I agree with that? Yes, to a degree.


MM: I read a blog about M/M writer’s losing their imagination because they are writing the same subjects repeatedly, what are your thoughts? http://www.reviewsbyjessewave.com/?p=42883


Sue: Ah yes, I read that too. Maybe it’s because the genre is still relatively small that it is noticeable, but honestly, if you stand on my local railway station there is advertising for a number of thrillers and they could all read exactly the same. I think one of the best comments I saw was someone who said we might be writing the same things but we are different authors and therefore approach it differently. In Morning Report, I didn’t set out to reproduce Bareback by Chris Owen, even though it’s about cowboys.


MM: What is it about M/M that pleasures you to write it?


Sue: Two gorgeous men getting it on? I mean, come on, what’s not to like?


MM: Where can we find you on the web?


Sue: I live here http://suebrownstories.livejournal.com/ and I have a website here http://www.suebrownstories.co.uk/


MM: Thank you for taking the time to spend with us today Sue and continued success on your work. If you would like to purchase the above books, click on them.

*****



Andrew’s life is a cliché: he’s a gay man trapped in a loveless marriage, thanks to his religious, overbearing mother. Then a new couple moves in down the street, and Andrew finds himself falling for Nathan in a big way. Nathan is straight, married, and just about to be a father, but after one fateful night out together at a club, Nathan has to face the fact that his feelings for Andrew go way beyond that of a friend and neighbor.



When Andrew’s wife asks for a divorce, both men’s lives are thrown into disarray. Arguments about their responsibilities to their wives and children, doubting themselves and each other, and some harrowing lies pull them apart… but they never leave each other’s thoughts.




Buylink

The first time Max lays eyes on Robert Armitage, he knows exactly what he wants to happen. Tall, broad, and gorgeous, Robert pushes all his buttons. When Robert asks Max to show him around town, the attraction between them only intensifies. But Max is just a night porter and Robert a guest at his hotel before his wedding, and Max knows even as they sleep together that in the morning he'll have to send the groom on his way.


A Bittersweet Dreams title: It's an unfortunate truth: love doesn't always conquer all. Regardless of its strength, sometimes fate intervenes, tragedy strikes, or forces conspire against it. These stories of romance do not offer a traditional happy ending, but the strong and enduring love will still touch your heart and maybe move you to tears.