It's Tuesday!!!

Word on the street is that all my children are back in school! WOOT! I love those kids like...well way more than this guy loves his body wax, but I'm telling ya, I didn't get anything done for three weeks. Yes. My kids have three weeks off every March. Holy Wow. That's a long vaca.

Iz bumpy.

Now I'm Johnny-back-on-the-job. I thought to post an excerpt of my exciting new book here at teh blog, but that's just plain weird. So, if you're interested, I've posted a little sampling of Happy Ending at my website.

In other news, CJ is kicking all kinds of ASS on DaBwaha and I'm voting her slate from here on, just so she can win the Sony E-reader. I think, as a person bottoming out in the 200's, that I should VOTE for a CAUSE--cause I heart CJ.

You can vote her slate here. Cheat to win? Surely not. But Russell is pleased with this decision. Therefore, if you're experiencing FAIL with the Dabwaha, and, let's face it, we all are, I say: Vote for Cee Jay!


PS...ALSO: Perhaps you missed this item in my side bar, but pal-o-mine Josh Lanyon's new book The White Knight, a Prequel/Sequel to that truly wonderful book The Dark Horse, is available today at Loose-id. I'll fling a free copy out to some lucky person...leave a comment below.

ManLoveMonday: Duo Review-o

Majordomo
Plastic comb-o
Barbarella
She's so fine

Pro-genetic
You electric
Barbarella
She's all mine

My pretty pretty pretty pretty Barbarella

Duran Duran ~ Electric Barbarella

Hey guys! LBea and TPig are at it again! Today we are reviewing Evangeline Anderson ~ Broken Boundaries from Ellora's Cave.

TPIG: WOW! Uh, I don't know LBea... I am so sorry! I love love loved this idea of mixing Top Gun and Starship Troopers after reading the blurb. Not only did I immediately buy it but I made you buy it as well.

LBEA: Do tell. 2 am, I finally shut my computer off. ::yawn:: I had fun cuz I read with you.

TPIG: Now... UGH! I am not so sure I did the right thing here. I feel like I got to see the promising setup destroyed by some of the most common issues I find with M/M stories these days. Maybe you can help me understand or get over my foibles here.

LBea: Moi? Uh. Have we met? I'll do my best, das bear pork. ::puts on good cop hat:: What's the name of this book? "Gay Ender's Game in Space?" Serves that a-hole Orsen Scott Card right. In your FACE!

(sorry)

SO our story begins...


...at a star fleet academy far far away where young horny recruits have all been lured into fighting the icky lobsters from space. The strapping youngsters enlist thinking that they will be gunners. They're going to be TOP GUNNERS (swordfight!!!).

~~~MAJOR SPOILERS~~FYI~~~

TPig: My problems started with how in-your-face BAD HOMO this story got right up front. The supposedly straight main character Chaz does not really "discover" anything about his new job or his new partner as much as he gets it shoved in his face right from the beginning.

Like this scene...

“I said, you’re a faggot, Ferron,” the leader of the cadets shouted again and his three supporters gave scared hoots of laughter.

“Heard you the first time, Burns,” the tall cadet drawled. His graceful, easy movements spoke of coiled energy waiting to lash out at the right time. “There’s no need to shout.”

“All you Needlers are faggots.” The leader, who had skull-cut pale blond hair and bulging china-blue eyes, was still shouting even though the object of his fear wasn’t three feet from him. “Go on, Ferron, deny it.” ~ Page 10

So there is no tantalizing discovery and very little personal reaction and growth from his figuring out what is going on through his own efforts to understand as he comes to terms with what is expected of him and frankly you keep wondering why Chaz never puts two and two together and walks the fuck out of this "bad touch" situation if he considers himself straight and maybe file a sexual harassment complaint with HR on his way out the door back to mummy and daddy's. Instead it starts romanticizing coercion and bullying.

LBea: This is pretty much a standard EA storyline. Lots of homophobia and stereotype reaffirmations, a closeted bad guy & the "it's so wrong but it feels so right" mojo she generally nails-- so she's able to jump right in because her audience knows the drill.

Although just once I'd like to see a character that's not 'gay for you and only you'. She works that 'it's wrong to be gay' sentiment too often. I no likey.

TPig: Oh and then there was the other problem I had right off the bat.

Like in this scene...

A dozen options went through his head, asking for a transfer, sending his parents an info-vid and letting them know what really went on at the Academy, hell, he could even call one of those tell-all news shows and help them do an exposé on the place.

Except…except did he really think none of that had ever been tried before? Surely he wasn’t the first new recruit to find himself in this situation. Hell, the Academy had even covered up the death of one of their students. Chaz hadn’t heard a thing about Sabine’s death either by word of mouth or on the news-vids before he had signed his paperwork and he was pretty sure that if he got killed in the line of duty, no one would hear about his death either.

No, like it or not, his new partner was right. They were stuck in this situation and he was going to have to learn to live with it. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to punch Ferron’s arrogant face in. The bastard! ~ Page 28

TPIG: HUH? WHY ARE THEY STUCK? WHY?

LBea: Because the only way to save the world from itchy crotch crabs space lobsters is to gay them away, silly pig! I'm guessing a lot of folks will find this: Tres. Hot. They are perfectly aligned because in space, they need to be connected ::wink wink::, like, internally connected, to become the ultimate fighting machine. Hot damn, saving the world has never been so naughty!

TPIG: Well OK LBea, EA does supposedly explain this for our benefit..

Chaz shrugged sullenly. “I don’t know. I guess they’ll drop me and get you a new partner. Isn’t that what you want? Someone who knows what he’s doing? Someone who’s not an ‘idiot’?”

“No!” Ferron exploded, raising his voice at last. He ran a hand through his long black hair distractedly and took a deep breath, obviously forcing himself to calm down. “Look, Brighton, I don’t think you understand the process here. The tests the Academy does are very specific. They don’t just pair up two cadets because they happen to be available. The personality characteristics have to align exactly.”**

“So—what does that mean?” Chaz asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It means I’ve been waiting for you for months.” Ferron’s voice was an irritated growl. “It means that after Sabi—after my old partner died,I never thought I’d find anyone again that I could feel—I mean anyone who matched me. I couldn’t believe it when they told me they had someone to fly with me again.” ~ Page 60

TPIG: But LBea at the end of the book the Admiral himself makes it clear that they mix and match these Needle Fighter Pilots all the time.

The day before graduation, the Admiral of the Fleet himself came to the Academy to meet them. He offered Ferron a commission of the highest order on the spot and told Chaz that a similar spot would be waiting for him when he graduated. He even brought a new partner along for Ferron, a tall, handsome gunner named Paul Jorgensen with light brown hair and knowing hazel eyes. Jorgensen’s own pilot had recently left the Fleet, leaving him stranded and in need of a new partner, the Admiral explained. And even though Ferron was fresh out of the Academy, he couldn’t think of a better match for one of his best gunners. ~ Page 145

TPIG: So really Chaz just comes off in this book like the biggest TSTL idiot being fed a line of crap that I guess makes it OK-- so he deserves this abuse.

LBea: I know that part really threw me. How many people can you be 'exactly' aligned with?

TPIG: Guess what else? We see everything in this story from his perspective but I hated Chaz right from the start.

LBea: Admittedly he was a hard protag to like. True he was having problems as a 'latent'. But I agree that Chaz was a numbnut. I have to say, however, that until the fight against the lobster hive (!), I was getting into the story, you know, because it was so familiar to me. Youngsters (think college) in their military school (not very militaristic, but still...) and Chaz is, in classic EA style, fighting his attraction.


TPIG: Oh and then this is Sci-fi Romance right? Well in my opinion it should attempt to make some sort of Sci-fi sense and yet the ship simulators we spend most of our time in the book in do not have an exact replica of the much touted neural net-- which is the whole reason these Needle Fighter Pilots have to be Fags. So it's all a bunch of let's pretend!


LBea: That neural net would have been AWESOME if used early, right?

TPIG: Hell yes! It might have softened some of this coercion and bullying of Chaz to get him to do gay things with Ferron if the forced dehumanizing merge of the neural net made them need physical intimacy afterwards. The whole sex in space thing was just so silly though. Who the hell can focus while getting fucked?

Ferron laughed softly in his ear. “It’s addictive, isn’t it? Unfortunately, it’s also expensive. Between fuel to launch the Needle and the crew to cycle it up and break it down after every flight, it costs the taxpayers back home a cool two million credits for every little joy ride you and I take out here in the deep dark. So you can see why they limit us to once a week.” ~ Page 120

TPIG: So the people in charge of all this expensive equipment and training think it's a good idea I guess to drop them nude into a real ship with the real neural net that merges their brains and freak them the hell out with the actual experience and watch them blow themselves up or something. I just did not get it. Would actually having to be in each others brain not have cut the back and forth drama crap so to speak with all the "I'm not gay. Yes, you are!" and got us into the meat of the story better than constantly relying on Ferron to coerce and force Chaz into doing those gay things he hated?

LBea: Uh well that's her rap, id'n it? I mean you and I have read quite a few of her books together (is this 5?) and that's her shtick. Coercion and shame. And later, the suicidal save.

TPIG: I am not even hitting the huge story problems I had with the "gay romance". I mean unless everyone out there thinks rape is "romance". Because this book not only threatens Chaz with rape once by the main villain. Oh no, Ferron then actually goes on to rape Chaz after that sealing the deal on my problems with this story.

LBea/Good Cop: Uh. Crap. I had the same response...so...yeah...


"It’s for a good cause,” Ferron reminded him, his breath hot on the back of Chaz’s neck.

“Don’t give me that shit,” Chaz said, trying to feel angry instead of scared. “This isn’t some charity here—this is my ass we’re talking about. This is you fucking me and you promised you wouldn’t.”

“Unless you asked me or our lives depended on it,” Ferron reminded him. Then his voice got quiet. “Please, Chaz…won’t you ask me?”

“No,” Chaz said again, feeling like his heart was in his mouth.

“Please, Ferron, I don’t want it to be like this my first time. I just…I still don’t feel ready. Can’t we do this without you…without you fucking me?”

“If it was just the final exam, I would agree not to,” Ferron said softly. “But it’s a hell of a lot more than that, Green Eyes. And you know it.” His voice became suddenly deeper and there was a tone in it
Chaz couldn’t quite understand—regret maybe?

“Look, Ferron—” he began but the older cadet cut him off.

“Spread your legs, Brighton,” he said and there was a steely note of command in his voice Chaz knew he wouldn’t be able to disobey. “Get ready to be fucked.”

“Ferron, please…” Chaz protested but he already knew it was useless. ~ Page 135

TPIG: Oh great, I love seeing BDSM shown as non-consensual sexual abuse. That is so healthy! Then there is the gay stereotypes like the thin lithe queeny Landrews who attacks Chaz constantly for being a "latent" homosexual.

Again I ask...WHY?

Was this to help us understand and sympathize with these oppressed gay guys? Because they still live in a world that hates gay people. Was this to bring home the fact that the military itself hates gay people and hides their contributions and involvement but uses their talents to fly their Fighters?

LBea: I'm pretty uncomfortable with the level of gay bashing and 'gay is wrong' sentiment by every character in this book. Chaz insists that he's not homophobic, which is fine, but he never shows that, he tells it. So I didn't actually believe him.

These 'gay for you' stories are popular, though, so folks who enjoy this kind of storyline will probably enjoy it.

TPIG: Was the only point of this annoying stereotyped character to have the competitive blow job scene? Yes folks, I said "competitive blow job scene".

Landrews widened his eyes dramatically. “Who said anything about the simulators, latent boy? I’m challenging you to a suck-off.” He dropped to his knees in front of Sanderson and began unzipping his partner’s tight black uniform. “First one to make their partner come wins.” ~ Page 83

TPIG: It just came across for me this book had too many villains and too much coercion and way too much rape and not enough Sci-fi gee whiz or military regimental discipline crap or even failing all that how about some emotional logic and character development to make me believe Chaz suddenly turns gay from being in close quarters and then raped by Ferron. The whole concept reminds me way way too much of that Anne McCaffrey "tent peg quote" for comfort. It bothers me that people
think that stuff is true.

Maybe it's all me LBea. (LBea: IT'S NOT!!) Like someone recently said maybe I deal in drama and maybe that is what I am bringing into this review... my own personal values and personal drama that is not meshing with what M/M is all about.

LBea: But that's what reading is all about, sweetie, and why we review together--different perspectives. We sometimes disagree, but this time, I had the same response. I wanted more sci fi, less anti gay sentiment...I don't mind a little coaxing and shame and coercion (a smidge) but I draw the line at rape by the hero. I'm also on record as saying that suicide attempts that are thwarted by the love interest piss me off as well. I'm trying to be the good cop, here, and it's difficult.

TPIG: Maybe other people want this LBea. Maybe I should not be so bothered they want to read "gay romances" with rape scenes because the sex is so hot when a guy uses violence with his dick on another guy.

They don't care if there are no reasonable emotional responses or if there are stereotypes used. They don't want the writer to explain how one moment the main character is straight and the next he is gay and in "real love" with another man just because they had sex. Maybe it is my problem that I don't get how this "romance" is any better than rape porn.

Lbea: So it missed the mark for us, you're right, TPig.

TPIG: I just don't know LBea. I can't argue with the fact this stuff sells like hot cakes. Who am I to speak out against this when everyone constantly buys it and promotes it? I mean people make excuses and tell me to get over it and that this is just Gay Romance written by women, for women all the time. Maybe just being a Gay Man means I am wrong and they are right. I don't know but it is so disappointing to me.

My thumb is way down on this one.

::LBea hangs up good cop hat:: Me too, TPIG. If I put aside the coercion fantasy, which seems to be a big seller for some reason, I can pinpoint two major dysfunctions that I find unacceptable for this reader. First: The Alpha attempts suicide and the beta saves him. No. EA has used this plot device before--mental illness is not romantic. It's a poor man's redemption. But the biggest sin in this book? The Alpha has non-consensual sex with the beta. It crossed my personal line in the sand. Period. I suspended my disbelief up to that point, but rape is wrong. There is no justification for his actions. And the hero didn't HAVE to do it. He did if for his own flipping glorification. Help was on the way. Thumbs down.

Stay Tuned

For new joint venture review by...

uh...

the usual suspects!












Good times.

I'm doing Monday on Sunday.

So. Uhm.

I'm number two three. I mean...if you do THIS:

Any Category > The Kindle Store > Kindle Books > Fiction > Genre Fiction > Gay & Lesbian

Heh.


Still. Thanks you guys!! You're the best. Fer real.

I'm just not that into you

PS: I found this at Matthew Melmon's digs.

ManLoveMonday: All Inclusive

A few weeks ago, I wrote about being put on the 'good' list...which actually turned out to be the 'ok' list. I found it rather sweet, actually, to be included. I understand what the author of the post was doing-- putting together a list of where to find the best reviews, questioning how reviews are written, and wondering about reader bias (for the best ever discussion on the topic of reader bias...click here). So fast forward a week or so and JenB, Sarah Rain on the Roof and I were chatting about that blog post. As a trio, we decided we were pleased over the inclusion, because, let's face it, we're pretty much interpretive, sporadic, opinionated, occasional reviewers. It's surprising we even made the list.

We're A-OK.

In this m/m-reviewing-blabbing-hanging out- promoing- writing- laughing- not jabbing each other in the eye with sticks, on-line community, we each and every one of us have something unique to offer. I'm particularly drawn to bloggers who review across the spectrum of genres in romance, who do so with laughter and a good will, and who aren't limited by the expectations of their audience. They open doors.

Therefore, I'm shucking out some I'M OK/UR OK Tokens

Carolyn Jean, the questioner. She eagerly pushes her own boundaries while allowing her readership to experience that process in her open, inquisitive style of book discussion. She does this with her trade mark twisted humor, intelligence and wit. And she'll read a filthy fuckery m/m novel and then turn around and discuss a gorgeous het historical romance. It makes her the most OK non-reviewer around.

Kati~The impetus in that first ever m/m round robin discussion on RomanceNovelTV, Kati contacted Marissa, who then invited a group of authors onto the site. It was rather...ground breaking. It's just not our normal venue. I was appreciative and impressed by the warm welcome we all received by everyone involved. Doors were opened. Word to Kati.

Tracy~Prolific reader, friend of the blog, woman who does the fastest mini reviews EVER, Tracy is A-OK. She incorporates all kinds of romance in her once a week hoe down "What I've Been Reading This Week". I love the diversity in her list.

OK go visit Sarah and JenB.We're doing a menage blog post of sorts.

Now on to MLM!

Two Thumbs Up

Some Thoughts On Milk

I've hesitated watching this film, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that I don't like sad movies. I knew I was in for a rough ride when I cried at the very beginning. From those first images-- of gay men in the process of being rounded up, covering their faces, handcuffed, shut into paddy wagons and treated like criminals--to the very end when Harvey sits alone in his kitchen, telling us all to offer hope to the next generation, Milk had me teary. Throughout the film, Milk managed to foster hope and inspire activism. It made me angry. It made me sad. But the most of all, it bridged a 30 year gap and retained relevancy by asking: Have things changed?

Oh man. I feel as if it'll take me a while to process the entire thing.

I was a youngster during the time period depicted in Milk.The use of old movie reels, photos, tv clips, newspapers really authenticated my experience of this story. In 77-79, I was in jr. high, and while I remember the late 70's-- the books I read, the movies I watched, the boys I hoped to kiss-- I had no idea what was going on in the larger world. (Although even in a tiny farm school, Anita Bryant jokes ran rampant.) Looking back, I can well appreciate how rare and wonderful Harvey Milk was to accomplish the things he did. On the heels of the civil rights movement, and in that brief decade before we fully realized the impact of Aids, I love how this movie infuses all the ingredients that made Harvey Milk successful and offers us hope.

Closets

There were moments where I had to look away, of course, and one scene that shocked me. Harvey's call for everyone to step out of the closet-- to show folks that they did indeed know homosexuals and that in knowing someone gay, they would support rights for their friends-- had him outing his friends. While this may have demystified gays for other folks, I found that...an infringement on the rights he so vehemently protected. It drove home to me what a difficult time it was for anyone who was deemed different. And it begged the questions...how much have things changed and how much have they stayed the same?




Empirical Fluff From a Connecticut Housewife

Yesterday, my family went walking along the Farmington River on the bicycle paths. It was a hilarious walk. My kids are teenagers so they spend most of their time either laughing or squabbling. Along the trail, for about two miles, we found ourselves either 10 paces behind or in front of a couple. They were holding hands, talking and laughing, and occasionally stopping (probably to get some space away from us). It happens that they were women. I chose not to say a thing to my kids, because, in my generation, it would be notable (G commented immediately) but for theirs? Here? I don't think so. They know that some people are gay. We all took our walk, and those ladies, uh, they bravely ran away, because the real notable couple on that path were two of my teenagers trying to walk with their feet tied together down the center of the goddamn bike path.

Anyway, not one of my kids mentioned the couple. It's got to be this next generation. They're far more inclusive and tolerant. It's a wonderful thing. Progress!

On the other hand...

BigGirl has a high school buddy who recently came out of the closet. An only child, her mother cut her off completely. No money for school. She can't come home. She's basically been a great kid and her mother...what? Won't give her money unless she has sex with boys? Won't love her until she stops being a lesbian? How does that work exactly?

In so many ways...things remain the same.

What I take away from Milk, is that Harvey's request for others to offer hope to the next generation is always relevant. We have the ability to offer equal rights and dignity to all people, in what ever small or large way we can. What a powerful, timely message.

Two big thumbs up. I'm sure I'm incoherent. It's midnight! Have a nice day.

o_0

Oops. Fell off the map! Uh. I'll stop by tomorrow to astound and offend amuse you.

For now, here's a wicked cool video!

Sad.

Last fall, our family had to remove my beloved, often difficult, brilliant, kind, and exasperating fil from life support. It was about as devastating a thing as I've ever experienced. And because it came out of the blue, it took us a long time as a family to walk that road of grief. Even now, half a year later, I can't read this story without choking up-- knowing exactly what Natasha Richardson's family is going through.

What ever we think about the nature of this injury, and as an avid skier I do have some thoughts about this, I can only say how very sorry I am for her family. It was an accident. It's a tragedy. And they deserve their privacy.

Blogging Where?

So. I'm blogging as an MLR P author about, uh, blogging as lisabea. YAY! Full circle! So here's the linky and here's the book due out in, maybe, two weeks. I'll let you know.

Currently, I'm neck deep in my first round of edits for Men Of Smithfield:Happy Endings. Ebook release tentatively scheduled over at Aspen Mountain Press for late April, early May, depending on my ability to focus. D'oh! I'll post an unedited slice soon on my website--which, by the way, is going to get a little face lift. Soon. Ish.

Happy Wednesday. I'm processing corn beef and cabbage. TMI?

March Madness, Again.

Did you do the debababahahhaa?

I filled out my score sheet in a spectacularly cavalier fashion. Willy Nilly. I'm sure Nora is somewhere on that there listy, but I don't read her, so I wouldn't know her book unless I used it for a door stop. And I wasn't about to research. Pishaw! If she's there, she'll probably win it. WAIT didn't Colleen Gleason win last year??? ZOMG!

I'm surprised by how many of the books I did know. Joanna Bourne will do well. And that Broken Wing that Kristie(J) has single handedly pimped through the blogosphere (I love Kristie(j)) with such heart felt enthusiasm and good will...well I hope it goes far because of Kristie. Probably the wrong reason to want it to crush the competition, but there it is.

Nalini. And Kresley. Ann Aguirie. Bujold. Carr. Harte. So many names I know because we all blog. Look at what we do!

Anyway, I wonder if Josh/Laura will walk away with the glbt title...or if they'll be brought down by Lord John, a book that was on the list last year and I really don't understand why it's there again this year. What's up with that? Probably there are more repeats, but, er, I voted quickly, not expecting to win but wanting to see who was on the list.

And, of course, I was stinkin' bummed that Death of a Pirate King didn't show. ::shakes head::

But I'm thrilled to see my pal Meljean front and center. Yay for MJB!!! (such a fan)

Still. Lisa Kleypas should win for Blue Eyed Devil. That's where I'm betting the farm. It'll be a close thing with Spy Master's Lady, Broken Wing, and some Nora book I don't know about, I'm sure (Is she on the list??? She is, isn't she. Oops.).

So. Who'd you pick?

ManLoveMonday: Content Free

I have no clue what's going on in bloglandia. Please advise.

Happy Monday. I'm sunburned, relaxed, and
wicked glad to be home again.


PS. Isn't he channeling smexy cowboy? mmm.

Am Green...

....and not with envy.


But he makes it allll-llll better, no?

Ok so today my blog pal Shannon C has posted a mini interview with yours truly to celebrate ebook week. I'm incoherent here because I'm seriously down for the count. HOWEVER...please stop by and say hi. Shannon's a smartie.

Free Gob to be given away! I just love to say that.

I'll try to say hello, but internet availability is limited and I think I have a mandatory thing to attend that involves a duck boat and some dramamine.

It's gorgeous here, fyi. The weather is perfection, the company is wonderful, and the digs are about as interesting and eccentric as I could ever hope for. Goodtimes.

Three Things (with mini-ish review)

ONE:

I will be away for a few days with G who is on a business trip. I should be a total feminist and not admit to going with him and hanging out with 'the wives' (none of the male spouses ever show) doing our yoga or whatever on the beach, but eff that. I'm exhausted and, damnit, I'm glomming on G and going on this trip.

I'll be working on Happy Endings a bit...and hopefully when I get back, my editor and I can start work on it (yay!).


TWO:

I'm totally sick. I was sick last week, yes. But now I'm sicker and that lounging on the beach will include prednisone, a z-pack, and a lot of wheezing. I'm still going. Even if they have to wheel me out on a gurney. (Do I have to tip for that?)

Poor G will not expect me to spend the days like
this--->

but that's too danged bad.

OMG can I have a margie on prednisone???? Oh noes!


THREE:

After..uh...eight months or so, I finally reopened and managed to finish Evangeline Anderson's The Assignment. I found it to be problematic. Also: Spoilers. But...jesus, of course they wind up together! It's an erotic romance!

You know, EA's stories, the ones that I have read, all hinge on a shame/lust dynamic, which is fine and dandy...oh it's so wrong! no! no! YES YES etc...I mean, ok that's definitely hot and she knows how to serve that particular dish with a garnish on the side, but the rest of the story? Blah.

As an aside: A lot of people love this book, even my blog hero, Bam. But...these dudes! They are GAY and even at the end...they're like..we love each other but hey! We're not gay if it's just for each other!

Are we lovers? Or just fuck buddies? Are we exclusive?” He shook his head. “See what I mean? It’s pretty complicated.”

“No, it’s not,” O’Brian countered fiercely, leaning forward to make his point. “You belong to me, and I belong to you. What could be simpler than that? Nick, if I can have you, I don’t want or need anything or anybody else in the world. Call it whatever you want. Just say yes.”

He looked so nervous and sincere that Valenti grinned at him openly. “Sounds like you’re asking me to marry you or something,” he said. “Where’s the ring?”

“I’m not joking around here, Nicky,” O’Brian said earnestly. “Look, what we’ve got between us, well, it’s a lot better than any marriage I ever heard of. What we’ve been though together, the way we’ve been there for each other ... We have a true partnership, a true love, and if that sounds stupid and romantic, then I don’t care.”

They LOVE each other. They FUCK each other. Uh...Candy gram! You're gay!

My numero uno problem with this book is Valenti, the POV character. He's tedious. Case in point--I cannot see any cop on assignment going off to mope in his bedroom, having a wee multi hour lie down, because he's ashamed of his actions and his explosive lust for his partner. Ok, yes he jacked the man off, in public, in a sex house, and dug it big time, but the dude has a job to do! They only have the weekend! What the HELL is this guy doing?

After returning to the room, he had lain facedown on the bed for hours, trying to think -- trying to make sense of it all. Once or twice it had seemed that maybe O’Brian might actually return his feelings. Valenti thought of the tender way his partner had washed his belly and thighs the night before -- the hot suction of O’Brian’s mouth on the head of his cock. And what about the kiss they had shared before leaving the room this afternoon? The way O’Brian had verbalized his love, something Valenti knew wasn’t easy for his friend, no matter how much he might feel it. But what kind of love?

O’Brian had jumped into this assignment with both feet and taken to his role as Valenti’s lover as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Last night he had even initiated physical intimacy between them without the benefit of an audience for an excuse. But despite all the touching and kissing going on between them, O’Brian still seemed essentially unmoved.

AND THEN:

Valenti didn’t know if he could stand it. The whole situation was getting to him. To be able to touch his partner any way he wanted and yet know there was no way he could touch O’Brian’s heart ... It was devastatingly hurtful. He wondered for the millionth time how he could ever have been so stupid as to let himself fall in love with the one person who was more important to him than anyone else. And yet -- how could he have prevented it?

Oh. My. Word. This guy is supposed to be working!! He's lying in bed. He's. On. Assignment. He's deep undercover, on the fricken job, trying to catch the bad guys by infiltrating this gay house of pain or what. ever. ready to save the free world from something or other (lbea needs to pay attention more) and he has to have a nap to go think about his feelings!! The sheer number of times this ding dong had to remind himself and BE reminded of his role as a cop really made him a...a...wanker... in my eyes and I had to wonder how he ever got anything done at all. He's so conflicted that he can't work!

My biggest problem with this story, and maybe it's why others love it, is that it's all about this guy's feelings. It's constant. I mean, I don't mind a little self reflection, but dude, man up. This entire book is so one note about Valenti deciding that he's not gay but in love and fucking his partner that....

Oh.

Ok maybe that IS the entire point here and I missed it in my need for fireworks and a marching band. Actually, that's probably more than a little true. I must be a weenie for expecting the characters to be more dimensional. Huh.

All in all? I just don't get it. But it's not a DNF anymore!! And it's not ghastly or anything, it simply didn't work for me.

This is not a review! I swear!

ManLove Monday: Guest Author Erastes

Good morning. While I cough into my cornflakes and get the family ready for various activities, I'm very pleased to welcome friend of the blog, author, reviewer, and blogger--Erastes.

Woot and thanks! On with the show! ~lb


Hello! Many thanks to Lisabea for letting me play in her sandbox and blog sitting while she's off misbehaving.

I'm going to play Dragon's Den (Shark Tank) with you today.

I'll pitch my idea, but don't panic, you don't have to send me bundles of cash (well, you can, I won't complain about it) but perhaps I can inspire someone to try the idea out and run with it.

Someone with more artistic ability than a small, slightly inebriated gnat—which is the amount of artistic ability I have.

The thing is, it's book covers.

Yes that old chestnut. But more specifically gay historical book covers. As some of you know, I specialise in gay historical fiction/romance and the bane of every writer of the genre is getting a great cover. (Or even good, or let's be frank, something that doesn't make you go OMG MY EYES MY EYES!!!)

For authors of contemporary gay romance, there's no real problem, find a couple of nekkid men on stockphoto sites, chop off their heads, Photoshop a beach/office block/woodland/theme of book behind them and bingo! Instant book cover! If you are very lucky you'll get Anne Cain or someone equally talented on your case and you are pretty much guaranteed to have a cover that will pique the reader's interest or have them slobbering on the screen. But for historical fiction? It's pretty much hopeless.

The thing is I understand the problem, and here's where the ideal business opportunity comes in. Small publishers, even bigger ones if you see what I mean, don't have the money to spare to rent a studio, photographer, models, historical clothing and THEN Photoshop it all together. But… if one (and by one I mean one of YOU, obviously) has a photographic gene (unlike the aforementioned gnat) and the opportunity to photograph hot young men in delicious historical costumes, then YOU could be the saviour of the gay historical author's conclave. I've seen the difference money can make. The cover for Standish was done purely on the computer, whereas Perseus Books have thrown money at my Transgressions and Alex Beecroft's False Colors and these are the results.



To my mind (and I hope you agree) these are INFINITELY better because they not only illustrate actual scenes in the book (ask yourself, how rare is that for romance?) but they also make it very very clear what the book is about. You can see at a glance (even if you aren't an expert in the era) that False Colors has something to do with tall ships and sea battles, and Transgressions is a manual on health and safety.

Do not take your eye off a very hot forge when your nipples are exposed and do NOT poke someone in the eye with a 17 foot pike.



But in general, things aren't so good. Look at my Frost Fair, for example – what does that cover say to you? Apart from the fact that those two men are likely to die of frost bite and… um…exposure in about ten seconds, does it say "this book is based in Regency London and concerns a printer's love affair with his client against the backdrop of the last great Frost Fair on the Thames?" No it really doesn't.

However, things are improving a little bit. This one by Ellora's Cave has made an effort. Look! A ship! And historical clothes! (of course there was a little good-natured joshing on The Macaronis about the underpants being anachronistic, but you must excuse us historical writers for being geeks at times.)

We’d simply like the same level of cover as our hetero historical authors get, if the book is about a viking making mad squishy love with his Saxon captive, then we'd like the cover to reflect that. If the book is about gentlemen in tight breeches with rapier… wits…then ditto.

Not just more homogenised naked headless torsos.

So come on, artists and photographers. I'm quite certain that if someone was supplying hot men in historical costumes—perhaps with a cravat untied, or one hand slid in another's waistcoat, the buttons undone—there would be a market available to you. I know that I would point my publishers in the direction of any entrepreneur who took up the challenge.

For Kati and, er, Katie

No. I did not open that new shipment of wine.

::lies::

Good

I came across a review of review sites and it really got me thinking today. I saw that I was listed under 'good' sites, which I appreciate very much thank you, but, uh, you've GOT to be shitting me.

OK. A word, here, ladies and, uh, ladies (and maybe even you four gentlemen):

I'm not a review site. No, for real.

I used to review. Remember that? And I loved it. I reviewed 3 or 4 books a week. Reading and typing and finding the perfect words, organizing, pimping and jacking photos and--

shit, that stuff'll kill you. For real. Because it went from something I loved, to something that stressed me out.

Last summer, I started to review less and less. Only when the mood struck. Seemed like a plan, and really, it was a good one! I offered my artful interpretive dances. Woo-hoo!




And then, uh, that morphed into talking about stuff. Which quickly spiraled into talking about nothing. Just like Seinfeld.

Only not.

Here's the real corker-- the kiss-of-review-site-death--I have reviewed one book this year. Possibly two. I'm actually too tired to look, but I know that I wrote about that Kresley Cole book that came out last year. Oopsie. I know that I have insisted that I will have some reviews coming. Some day. I mean, my pal and I have been trying to review Wicked Gentleman for a month. You read that correctly. One. Month. OK, that's a lie, it's been more like two. The problem? It's not you, it's me.



The painful truth is: I can't read at all any more.

And it is painful. Reading has been my solace my entire life, just as it has been yours. It's what unifies us all...this shared joy. But, it's been months and months. I don't know what the freak is going on but, er, nothing. Zip. Nadda. Goooose egg. Bloom is off the rose. No interest. Blah. This happens to all of us, of course, but once we start keeping track here in the blog-o-verse, it's REALLY apparent. I toyed with the idea of having other folks review for me..but..I mean, even that doesn't appeal because I'm such a control freak. Ask anyone who has blogged with me...I'm a bit...difficult.

No. Really.


Blogs are funny things.

There's this sense that we're not in competition with others, but with ourselves. I'm not sure exactly what motivates this drive, validation or connection or free shit (!), but I've found after a couple years of blogging, that the only measurable success, is that one thing which can't be calculated by a hit counter, and that's-- friendship. Good thing, too, cuz otherwise my blog would be d-e-a-d dead.

The upshot of all this is: I'm a little sad. I've watched this site grow and garner friends and supporters, and I've had some fabulous times, but I'm not sure what it is anymore, other than a free for all for my thoughts as a smokin' hawt mom from Connecticut (jk). I like this little place and I adore my pals, but, dudes, I can't read anything. It's effing awful. And it's killin' teh old bloggy.

Will things change back to the way they used to be? Will Lisabea bring back the parade of nekkid and the in depth styled reviews for which she's known? Can she overcome her ennui? No clue. But I know that I'd rather not review at all unless my heart is 100% in it. Otherwise it's like sex with no happy ending, and man, that sucks. I don't play that game. Nuh uh.



K. No glorious dismount with a stuck landing cuz I've got to go make supper. Ravioli and garlic bread. Salad. Pudding.

And I'll read fucking Newsweek. Blah.

PS:

For those of you who are reviewers and review site folk, and that's everyone stopping by, I heart you guys. Your dedication, your smart words, your commitment to sharing your thoughts on romance novels--I get it and I appreciate you all the more. Really.

K.

blah.

blah.

ManLoveMonday: Guest Post by Victor J. Banis

I am delighted, as always, to welcome Victor Banis back to my wee blog. He da man.

Lecturer, writing teacher and early rabble rouser for gay rights and freedom of the press, Victor J. Banis is the critically acclaimed ("the master's touch in storytelling" Publishers Weekly) author of more than 150 published books and numerous shorter pieces in a career spanning nearly 50 years. A native of Ohio and longtime Californian, he lives and writes now in West Virginia's beautiful Blue Ridge.

Over the weekend I read two different reviews of the same anthology—good reviews, for the most part. Both reviewers, however, expressed their dislike for the same one story. The writer, as it turns out, is a friend of mine, but that signifies nothing. He is also a longtime veteran and, in my opinion, a very fine writer, and so I was struck by this double whammy his story provoked.

If I had any quarrel with these reviewers, it would be that both focused on the nature of the story and seemed to give little thought to the quality of the writing, which seemed to me in keeping with this writer's long time reputation.

I do not quarrel with them, however. We all know that taste's vary. A review is, after all, that reviewer's opinion of the work, to which he or she is certainly entitled. Neither my friendship with the writer (nor, indeed, theirs either, if it existed) nor his veteran status nor his reputation as a writer counts for anything if one simply doesn't like a work.

Moreover, I could certainly understand their point: it was an odd story, perhaps even bizarre. I saw a writer in his experimental mode, but I would have to say that the experiment this time failed. Experiments do. That is why they are called experiments and not sure-bets. For me, as a writer myself, it was exciting to see this writer stretch himself beyond his normal boundaries, with whatever result. He could, far more safely, have stayed within the confines of his usual work. He needn't have tried the different, the new, when surely he was aware of the risk. We writers, the best of us, are trapeze performers, but we do our triple flying somersaults with never a net.

I have said elsewhere, and often, that only the mediocre artist is always at his best. He hones his craft and with hard work and diligence rises to his own level of competence. It may be a high level indeed, and from it he may give us great pleasure over a long period of time. There are artists in every field of this sort, and they are certainly not to be disdained because they go no further. They cannot go beyond because, for them, there is no beyond.

The true artist is never unmindful of that far country that he sees glittering on the distant horizon, and he is painfully aware as well of the great chasm that lies between here and there; between the artistic vision that stirs within him and the physical accomplishment he finally achieves.


He cannot, however, stop striving to reach that dream. So the artist daubs endlessly, trying to find that whiter shade of pale. The dancer leaps higher and higher, hoping one day to find that magical pause in mid-air that will leave his audience gasping in awe. And the writer struggles to find that story, that phrase, that single word, even, which will illuminate in some new way the human condition, which will bring us face to face with ourselves in a way we have never experienced before.

It is inevitable that when one strives in this way, reaches beyond the norm, beyond one's own gifts and capabilities, he will sometimes fail; occasionally fail even on a grand scale. No one should mind that. These are noble failures, and I for one would rather fail nobly than to succeed in mediocrity. Every artist would.

When I pray for my own writing, I do not pray for the words. The words are always there. I pray for the courage to make them new. This is the hardest, the most painful—to try to bridge that chasm.

This is why I don't give bad reviews: because I know—who better?—how easy it is to fail, and what it costs the artist of himself even to make the attempt, to challenge himself and his art.

The rope the artist flings across the abyss is his heart. I am always thrilled, and filled with admiration, to see any artist willing to give that in the service of his craft. Whether, in fact, he succeeds or fails is of little consequence. In the end, it is ourselves against whom we compete.

He who dares to run the race, though he come in last, wins.


Victor's latest release, Deadly Wrong, may be purchased here.

RT Mention.

Thanks Carrie Lofty for bringing this to our attention. In Romance Times Book Reviews it's The Unfeasably Tall Greek Billionaire's Martyr-Complex Secretary Mistress Bride!!! Oh just click here.

I heart Tumperkin. We're like twins, us.