Sunday, 30 June 2013

Special Guest: Richard S. Charles Raines

Hi all,

I'm delighted to host a special guest on my blog today. We just recently met on Facebook and I was intrigued by the blurb of his book - and the fact that we share a cover model - so I'm thrilled that he's agreed to sit down for an interview with me.

Ladies & Gentlemen, please welcome Richard S. Charles Raines!

Hi Richard, thanks for being my guest. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable while I put the kettle on. Here are

The business ones

Please give us a short introduction about yourself
Hi! I’m Richard S. Charles Raines, a gay author who lives in England. My ancestry is European.

What genre(s) do you write in and why?
I write novels with varying degrees of mystery, romance, and erotica which feature gay or bisexual men.

I use specific author names to distinguish between two quite different styles of writing and a different bias in content.

As R.S. Charles, I pen stories where gay and straight characters intermingle in exotic, more mainstream mysteries 'with a liberal sprinkling of racy romance'. And as Charles Raines, I concentrate on m/m erotic fiction/romance, usually with a mask of mystery.

The genre seemed to suit my interests, experience, and lifestyle, as well as my fantasies! Authors tend to write what they like to read.

Tell us about your first m/m book.
Stranger In Translation” is a story blending my kind of erotica with mystery and romance. It’s about a young Englishman in Marseilles translating a ‘bestselling’ novel into French. He hates the futility of his work and the banality of his life. Awkward, scratchy, and inexperienced, he feels like an outsider in every respect. Sheltering in the serenity of the local cemetery, then loitering in the darkness of the beckoning back streets, he slowly yields to his smouldering, unfulfilled desires. And his life begins to change. Essentially, the title says it all.

You said ‘my kind of erotica’. What do you mean?
I think there are many shades of erotica. Some readers like gentle innuendo within heartfelt romance. Others prefer full-on porn. I tend not to use language that is too crude or descriptions that are too graphic. I love to hint, build up lustful anticipation, use anonymity, develop sensual expectation, and take the reader to the very brink of fulfilment, then allow him or her to ‘finish off’ in whatever way (s)he sees fit. Don’t get me wrong, there are scenes that readers find extremely ‘erotic’, but they aren’t always the ones where the picture is fully painted. Imagination is sometimes more powerful than the written word. GLBT Reviewer Amos Lassen said that I manage to ‘stimulate the mind as well as the body’.

Do you need a special setting to write in or do you have a ceremony to get you in the mood? What does it look like?
I have to be in the right frame of mind to write. And the mood may vary. I have no routine. It’s usually whenever I have the time, inclination, and inspiration. But I will take advantage of different emotions/experiences as they occur to jot down notes for scenes I will write later.

Generally, the reader and I share the same experience. We never know what’s going to happen next.

Where do you find inspiration?
I like things to develop, to be real and believable. I am a visual/observational writer and love nothing more than to sit in continental cafés, or hang around street corners, people-watch, and gather material for characters and plots. Films stimulate me too. But my greatest inspiration is my imagination. If I can’t ‘see’ it, I can’t write it! The first 5,000+ words of “Stranger In Translation” were written in one single session. I was ‘in the zone’. I just couldn’t stop. The words came flooding out.

Describe your feelings when you learnt that your first book was accepted for publication.
Of course I was excited. But I knew the real work was still to come. Books don’t sell themselves. Marketing is a chore I detest and the nemesis of many a good author.

Who is your favourite character and why?
Probably Raoul in ‘The Palms’ series (R.S.Charles). Let’s just say he’s ‘very close to home’!

My present WIP is actually fusing characters from the pen of R.S.Charles and Charles Raines into one novel.

A favourite line from one of your books.
“It was so noisy I thought we were in an Italian restaurant!” Lady Laetitia Lascelles (Palms).

Your favourite drink and food when writing.
Cup after cup of green tea. I tend not to snack.

Ah, tea, that's my cue. Here, have a cuppa and let's move on to

The nosy ones

How much of the real “you” is in your stories?
I think all writers hide/feature themselves, or who they’d like to be, somewhere in their work. I’m no exception.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? Who was it?
There’s something I fancy in all the characters I write, even the women!

Who is your least favourite of the characters you’ve written? Why?
There’s something I detest in every character I write. I hate arrogance, but it can be a turn-on!

The steamiest scene from your books.
It depends what you find steamy. Every reader has a personal erotic trigger. For example, I think a man can be more seductive keeping certain items of clothing ON. You’ll find the scene that suits you in either “Stranger In Translation” or the follow-up, “Falling For Forever”. I imagine it will be different for each reader.

Favourite comfort food?
Sausage and mash!

A person you admire.
My mother. (Such a cliché for a gay man!) I owe her everything. Sadly, she’s no longer with us.

If you could ask any person in the world one question of your choice, who would it be and what would you ask them?
I’ve already asked that question. And he said “Yes!” (This is one of my favourite answers! ~S)

The fast ones
Favourite colour? Blue.

Favourite pet? Any dog or cat I have ever owned.

Coffee or tea? A coffee to start the day, then tea all the way!

Quickie or candles? Quickie…outside!

Hunky or chunky? Depends on my mood.

Suit & tie or jeans & boots? Depends on my mood!

Walk in the park or chat over cocktails? Walk on the beach!

Wow, some of those answers could have come from me - it's funny to see that we have so much in common but maybe that's what got me interested in your book, Stranger in Translation. Let's take a closer look at the title that's next on my tbr-pile:

Stranger In Translation by Charles Raines

An opinionated young linguist signs a six month contract to translate a ‘Bestseller’ from English into French, on the condition that he can do the job in France. He has nothing but contempt for the book’s author, hates the dull, routine work he has to do, and despises the banality of his own life. Something is missing.
Hesitant and frustrated, his ambivalent sexual desires are untapped, but always bubbling below the surface. Feeling like an outsider, the only way to cope is to find a distraction, try to blend in, and strive to fully embrace the French way of life.
The local cemetery offers shelter and serenity, and the backstreets of Marseilles offer danger and excitement. Exploring the two, he meets a succession of men and has a series of erotic encounters which gradually mould him into exactly the man he secretly always wanted to be.


“Salut!” His whispered greeting seemed reassuring. “Viens! Assieds-toi!” Patting the sand next to him, he offered me a chance to take a breather. I wiped the drips of sweat with a handkerchief from my back pocket. He seemed interested in the colour. I didn’t know why. Or perhaps I did. “Ça te plaît??” He nodded at my hew hairstyle. The one he’d created. I nodded. Yes. Yes, it was growing on me. I did like it. He stretched out his hand and ruffled the bristles. My scalp wasn’t the only thing that reacted with a tingle.

An awkward silence suggested this was not going to be easy. We were alone in a clump of secluded palms. I knew there’d be eyes everywhere, watching, waiting. He took off his vest, cupped his hands behind his head, lay back, and stretched out in the sand. His body was tanned, lean but muscly. The bulge in his trunks caught my eye. And he knew it. I stayed sitting, cross-legged. I wasn’t being unfriendly.

“T’as chaud?” Yes, of course I was hot, but I wasn’t going to take off all my clothes. And his fingers skimming the back of my neck only made me hotter. Lapping up the sun, he closed his eyes. He knew the unspoken invitation to look him up and down would be easier to accept if I thought he wasn’t scrutinising my every move. I was intrigued… at how different he looked. His hair was no longer hanging in greasy strands. It was scraped back into a neat ponytail accentuating the bold features in his face. His skin was cared for, but not overly. It didn’t look obvious. It didn’t look feminine. It looked rugged enough to match the seductive, macho image he had adopted. The pleasing portrait now had just the right frame.

A few moments later, he turned over onto his front. His dreamy, big brown eyes once again caught mine as he slowly raised his head and arched his lower body. His hand adjusted the front of his trunks. Broad shoulders, toned legs and butt cheeks you could park your pushbike in between writhed as he made himself comfortable in the sand. Was this a practised look for a potential conquest or was it sincere? I couldn’t really tell. I wasn’t going to be a notch on anybody’s bedpost. I wouldn’t allow fleeting, physical flirtation to triumph over the emotions of true love, or what I anticipated true love should feel like. My vibes made this clear. Maybe that’s why I was always alone? No-one had ever managed to get close enough to test the waters.

“Salut!” A shadow cast itself over us. The figure wearing just fitted, square briefs and a flimsy cotton top with a hood momentarily blocked the sun. The barber forced a smile. The arrival was ill-timed. An awkward silence followed. The hovering friend with the mousy brown, crinkled fringe was invited to join us. Pleasantries were exchanged, but no introductions, no names. That’s the way it worked.

BUY LINKS  **Stranger in Translation is currently available as a special offer**
Amazon - US
Amazon UK

Stranger in Translation (Reviewed by David, excerpts):
 "I won’t repeat what has already been said pretty eloquently by others. Instead, I will limit my comments to why I thought this book was such a great read... What Charles Raines has done with STRANGER IS TRANSLATION is to paint a rich and complex world with such darkly sensual imagery (without being vulgar) that it is wholly believable and so “real” you can almost touch it—the sights, the sounds and even the odors of Marseilles. STRANGER is written in first person narrative, a risky endeavor for many authors but a risk in this case that was well worth taking... I have to say that of all of the books and new authors that I had a chance to read in 2012, STRANGER IN TRANSLATION was one of the most pleasant surprises. It was the first time I’d had a chance to read Mr. Raines’ work and I am always overjoyed when I encounter an author who writes so beautifully that time stands still. I look forward to many more releases by Charles Raines and I recommend this novella enthusiastically."

View more Amazon Reviews 

About the Author
Richard S. Charles Raines writes GLBT novels. As R.S. Charles, he pens stories where gay and straight characters intermingle in exotic mysteries 'with a liberal sprinkling of racy romance'. His alter-ego, Charles Raines, concentrates on m/m erotic fiction/romance with a touch of mystery.

Author website:

Friday, 28 June 2013

Release Day: Fantasy for Sale

Just in case you've missed it - Fantasy for Sale has officially released today, so here's a little release day post with some links for my newest:

Fantasy for Sale

MM erotic romance / contemporary, super novel
Heat rating: Burning
ISBN: 978-1-78184-356-7

What's the price of reality when a fantasy is for sale?

Cam is young, sinfully sexy and willing to play without limits, a combination which makes him a fantasy turned to flesh for men and women alike - and he's for sale.
Nate is curious when it comes to carnal delights but hasn't found the right man to explore his desires with.
When a friend buys Nate a few hours of pleasure with Cam, it's not much of a surprise that Nate ends up intrigued. He keeps coming back for more and the attraction between them appears to be mutual but while Nate finds himself falling for the sexy hooker, Cam makes no secret of the fact that for him, sex is just a job. 
Determined to win him over, Nathan tries to show him that sex is about more than physical satisfaction but Cam's walls seem impenetrable until a dramatic event forces him to reveal some of his secrets and Nate begins to understand that Cam pays more than just the price for the reality behind the fantasy.

Buy links:

Thursday, 27 June 2013

Great Review for Fantasy for Sale

What a lovely way to distract me from the pain of sore muscles (Yours Truly had a bit of a fight with a big old tree yesterday - the tree eventually lost, but it did put up a fight). Mrs Condit and Friends Read Books reviewed Fantasy for Sale, and what Pattycake wrote about my current release along with rating it 4 1/2 sweet peas just made my day.

Here are the best bits - for me, anyway:

"Told in 1st person from Nate’s POV, the storyline has a gripping plot that flows smoothly and seamlessly from the beginning to the very end... The characters are so very convincing that you can’t help but wish that things would work out for them... The author’s writing style is blunt, eloquent, concise, and offers an honest and obviously well-researched look behind the Pretty Woman fantasy... I thoroughly enjoyed this thought provoking, emotionally satisfying book and would definitely recommend it to everyone."(Click here to read the full review)

Book Showcase: The Fire in Her Eyes by K.R. Haynes

The Fire in Her Eyes (M/F)
(In Her Eyes 2)
by K. R. Haynes

This title is offered at a 15% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, July 3rd.

[Siren Classic: Erotic Consensual BDSM Romantic Suspense, public exhibition, spanking, flogging, cropping, sex toys, HEA]

Since the first night Officer Mick Huon met Mary J Sinclair down at the Convict Inn, fiery sparks of passion have flown between the two of them. After stealing one kiss from her, Mick decides it’s best if he keeps his distance from Mary J, mainly due to his steadily rising affection for her that was stirred up from one brief tender moment they shared. What Mick hadn’t counted on was for Mary J to seduce him. The woman has a fire within her that sets him ablaze with primal lust. To tame a stubborn redhead like Mary J, Mick will have to pull out all the stops if he's planning on enticing her into his bed.

But when Mary J’s dark past collides with the present, it stirs up more trouble than they were both prepared for. Can Mick conquer Mary J’s past in time or will he end up losing her forever?

Mary J could feel the heat of his hands on her back. His expert fingers made quick work of the snaps on her bra. She allowed the straps to fall from her shoulders as she continued to sip at his lips. Her hands clasped his head, hard, at the feel of his callous hands fondling her bare breasts. He held them in his hands, like he was weighing the feel of them in his palms. His naughty fingertips tweaked and pulled at her nipples, causing her hips to buck against him. Her lips fell away from his as she cried out. Her bra was whipped completely away from her body then, baring her breasts to his heated gaze. Then before she knew it, his hot, moist mouth sucked one of her nipples inside and had her crying out in ecstasy all over again.

The sensations Mick was forcing her to feel were like nothing she had ever experienced before with her past lovers. Not that she had that many nor had she taken a lover since she broke up with her ex a couple of years ago. Now, her body was primed and ready for Mick and his well-endowed dick.

“Please, Mick, I need...”

“You want my dick in you, don’t you, sugar?”

“Oh god, yes! Please, Mick, now I need you buried deep inside me right now!”

“It would be my pleasure to give you what you need then, sugar.”

Mary J lowered her hands to the zipper on his jeans and unzipped it as she scooted back on his lap. Reaching inside she wrapped her hand around his hot, steely length and pulled it free from his jeans. Her mouth watered at the sight of his dick standing tall and proud in her hands. Mick lifted his hips up and pulled out a small foil square and quickly sheathed himself up. Her panties, she was still wearing her panties. She needed to get them off, she realised a little too late, at the sound of material being ripped apart.

“You tore my panties?” she said in astonishment that he had actually torn her tiny see-through panties.

“Yep, they were in my way and they had to go.”

“But, no one’s ever tore my panties before.”

“Good to know I’m your first for something.” He slapped her on her now bare butt then told her to get up on her knees.

Mary J did what he told her to do and moaned when he rubbed the head of his cock through her weeping folds. Her clit was burning and needed something to take the edge off. Before she knew what she was doing her hand slid down her belly and her fingertips slipped between her pussy lips. By their own accord her fingertips then began circling her clit. “Oh god, yes!” whispered past her lips as a pleasurable haze began to wash over her. She could feel herself falling into the most incredible release. All she needed was the call to come, so her orgasm could finally take hold and whisk her off to that proverbial promise land of intense pleasure.

Then just like that, her hand was ripped away from her achy clit and the promise of release was slowly subsiding. She cried out in protest and even tried to batter away the interfering hand that was tugging her twiddling fingers away from her aching bud. But it was no use. Mick was in charge of her pleasure and right then she knew it. She may not like it, but she would succumb to his dominance. And if she found an opportunity in the future to turn the tables on him, then she would take it, regardless of the consequences her actions would bring to her or her ass.

“No, Mary J. This here is my pussy and your pleasure is for me to hand out and not for you to take when you see fit. If you need to touch what belongs to me in the future you will ask me, sweetly of course. Do you understand me, sugar?”

“Yes...uh, sir?”

“Good answer, sugar. Yes, I rather like hearing you say sir. So from now on, when we’re having intimate relations you will call me sir. Outside of that you can call me whatever takes your fancy.”

“Intimate relations? Really, Mick, why don’t just say when we’re having sex. Honestly.” Mary J shook her head and rolled her eyes at him only to receive another slap on her butt from him for doing it. “Hey!”

“I do believe I gave you some instructions to follow and I’m still waiting for you to follow them.”

“I’m not a damn kid, Mick. I don’t need instructions.”

“Apparently you do, little girl, because your pussy is not on my dick yet.” He slapped her butt again. “So hop to it, sugar, and get that hot little pussy of yours on my Johnson now.”

“Oh god,” fell from her lips at the mention of his dick inside her core. Hearing his amused chuckled had her face flaming with embarrassment.

“Nope, he won’t save you, sugar. Now haul ass, and get what belongs to me on my cock and no more stalling.”

“Yes, sir,” she grumbled out to him.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Mary J lifted herself up from Mick’s lap. She hovered herself above his throbbing cockhead and ever so slowly she lowered herself down onto his dick. The stretch and burn from not having a penis inside her for so long had her gasping for air. Her fingers found his shoulders and gripped them hard as she paused for a second with his cock partially inside of her tight cunt. She could hear Mick’s deep voice talking to her, helping her to relax her inner muscles and accept his entry. Two years, it had been two whole long years since she felt a cock inside of her and Mick’s penis wasn’t small by any means. It was fucking huge.

“Breath for me, sugar, there’s no hurry, we’ve got all night. Just go nice and slow. Christ, you feel so tight around my cock. Your cunt is like a vice around my dick, sugar, I love it.”

After a few seconds pause, Mary J began lowering herself further onto Mick’s dick. His steady breathing and the calmness he exuded had her nerves and muscles relaxing further. He felt so large inside of her that he actually put her vibrator to shame.

Tuesday, 25 June 2013

Tuesday Teaser: Jaime Samms

Hi all, 

Today's Tuesday Teaser has just confused me with sending me her blog post in HTML-format, not knowing that as soon as those four letters pop up, my brain shuts down. So, instead of coming up with a brilliant introduction, I'm trying to get all those <strange> symbols <out of my mind> now. Ladies and Gents, here's Chaos Jaime Samms with her new book Off Stage Right and some of my favourite story elements. 

My husband just tried to help me find an idea for my blog post. He was talking about entropy and it's opposite, which he didn't have a word for. He's a mathematician at heart, after all. He compared entropy (the basic forces of chaos in the world that rip things apart) to knowledge, and the opposite of entropy to all the caring and empathy that holds the world together.

When I asked him what the word for that second force was, he gave me a blank look.

Me: "What? You don't have a word in your world for all the people who care and empathize?"

Him: ...pause...."No."

Which, he might not have a word for it, but that doesn't mean he doesn't understand it or exercise that force in his life. But anyway, the whole conversation got me thinking about my latest release, Off Stage Right.

That guy on the cover, there, Damian, he's entropy. Chaos. A force of nature in his own life, tearing things apart and wreaking havoc in his world. It's his natural inclination to tear through life with abandon, and without restraint, there is no doubt, he'd be one of those statistics: Famous, young, and dead.

Enter his music manager, Stan, and that opposite force of nature, the one without a name that holds the world together and makes things calm and sane. This book is about them and the swirling vortex that results when one force collides with it's opposite.

Damian Learner and his grunge band, Firefly, are on a meteoric rise to success. If they get the right break, fame awaits. Seeking more professional management, Damian independently strikes a bargain with the best agent in the business, Stanley Krane. Unable to afford the penalty for breaking old contracts, Damian agrees when Stan’s best friend, country and Western megastar Vance Ashcroft, offers to buy him out of his old contract.

Overwhelmed by a crippling loan, secretive guilt, Stanley’s expectations, and a volatile relationship with Lenny, Firefly’s lead guitarist, Damian disintegrates. Bad habits of too much sex, booze, and drugs create a rift in the band. Finally Vance, with his understanding of Dominant/submissive behavior, sees that submissives Damian and Lenny are falling into chaos, clinging to each other to try to avoid the inevitable crash.

When the pressure to perform becomes too much and the unthinkable happens, Damian and Lenny have to decide: accept that they need something they can’t get from each other, or burn out and take Firefly with them. Vance is ready to claim Lenny, but even Stan’s hesitant agreement to give Damian the direction he needs might not be enough for Damian—or the band—if he loses Lenny.

Lenny was still in his room when Damian emerged from the shower, so he investigated the results of Lenny’s shopping excursion and made them both a supper of salmon and salad. Healthy enough even for a picky, demanding guitar player’s exacting standards.

Lenny emerged from his room as Damian was scooping the fish from the pan. “You cooked?” He made a show of sniffing the meat on Damian’s spatula.

“You want to wear it? Get out of the way.” Damian planted a hand on Lenny’s chest and shoved him from the small kitchen space while Lenny snickered at him.

“You have to admit, it doesn’t happen very often.” He managed to snag a tender pink morsel off the hunk of salmon Damian was sliding onto a plate before being forced away. “Ohmygod.” He licked his lips and reached for more. “And it totally should. This is awesome!”

Damian grinned despite his attempt to be stern and annoyed. “I’m more than this pretty face and a decent set of pipes, you know.” He demonstrated by trilling off a few notes of the song Lenny had been working on.

The guitarist blushed. “So you heard that.”

“Of course.” Damian popped a bite of fish from the pan into his own mouth. “It’s got potential.”

“I know.” Seating himself at the breakfast bar, Lenny accepted the plate Damian handed him and picked up his fork. “All it needs is a set of lyrics.” He glanced up hopefully.

“Already on it.” With a tap to the side of his skull and a wink, he set to his own dinner. “Mmm. Shit. This is good.”

Lenny shouldered him playfully. “I never thought you were all that pretty anyway.”

“Because you’ve never had a proper look.”

“Well.” Lenny made a show of thinking about that. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s not it.” He studied Damian’s bare face and mohawk, still damp and shaggy from the shower. “Good thing you have other qualities, I guess.”


Lenny grinned. “I live to knock you down.”

Damian speared a broccoli floret and popped it into his mouth without comment.

Buy Link: