It’s time for another Friday guest, so please welcome Silvia Violet who is here to tell us why she writes m/m fiction.
Why am I writing m/m?
I’ve been reading m/m romance for years. One of my first publications was an m/m/f where the initial relationship was between the two men. I’ve written plenty of m/m/f since, but until last spring I’d never written an m/m book. So why the change?
I’ve been reading a lot more m/m in the last few years, and I’m certain that influenced my muse. I also tried my hand at first person in an m/f story, Protect and Serve: Savage Wolf, and realized how much I love being in deep male POV. I had so much fun getting into the thoughts of my hero that I decided to write another book in that series. I started outlining, and my hero laughed at me as I tried pair him with a female vampire. He couldn’t believe I hadn’t figured out that he was gay. And thus my first m/m, Sex on the Hoof, was born. I’ve since written several more m/m stories, including another Protect and Serve titled Paws on Me.
Along with enjoying writing from the male perspective, I think my muse headed in this direction, because I love to be challenged by what I’m writing. Love it or not, writing solely from a male POV is challenging. I have to remember that in general men use different speech patterns from women, and a man would likely approach a budding relationship differently than I would. Then there’s the challenge of thinking like a man without falling into male stereotypes. My recent writing has forced me to consider issues about gender and sexuality from new vantage points. I’m being challenged creatively and intellectually.
I enjoy creating sci fi or paranormal settings in which sexual orientation is not an issue. I have several m/m/f stories set in this type of world, and I recently wrote a sci fi m/m in which the fact that my characters are men who love men is not an issue. Relationships are enough of a challenge without the burden of prejudice or the need to hide. Wouldn’t it be nice if we lived in such a place? Writing sci fi m/m lets me live in this pleasant fantasy world for awhile.
In the world of the Protect and Serve series, strides have been made against homophobia though it is far from extinguished, but fierce prejudice exists against shape-shifters and vampires. All shifters and vamps are judged by the worst examples of their kind. In Paws on Me, tough police lieutenant, Seth Morrison, has learned to judge a man by what he does rather than his genetics.
Lieutenant Seth Morrison loves being a cop, but with budget cuts and crime both on the rise, he’s stopped making time for anything but his job.
On the outside, Brandon Lord is an easy-going, flirtatious club owner. On the inside he’s a man trying to overcome a difficult past.
When a murder investigation brings the two men together, passion roars to life. They’re both willing to break the rules to be together. Because as mismatched as they might seem, each man is exactly what the other needs.
I’m Seth Morrison. I’m a cop, a police lieutenant to be precise. I’ve been on the force more years than I want to think about. I’ve seen good men get killed, turn dirty, lose themselves in the bottle, lose their fucking minds, but I’m still here doing what I do. I don’t know any other life. People tell me I need a break, a vacation, to relax. I don’t want to fucking relax. I just want to do my job and keep this city from falling apart.
I park my car, grab my coffee from the cup holder, and charge up the front steps of the station. I could take the side door, it’s closer to my office, but I love the chaos of the bullpen. When I open the door, I breathe deeply, enjoying the variety of smells: coffee that’s been on the warmer far too long, the sickeningly sweet smell of candy and doughnuts, pine-scented cleaner from the scrubbing the janitors gave the floors last night, and something unnamable that simply smells like cops and hard work. I shake my head as I try to imagine not being here nearly 24/7. This is where I belong.
My stomach rumbles. I should’ve had dinner, but after pretending an afternoon nap was a night’s sleep, I’m running late. I’ll grab something from the vending machine while I dream about a juicy burger and thick home fries. It sure would be nice to have someone cook for me. I don’t seem to get along with stoves. Years ago, I tried being married. That worked for about 30 seconds. My wife wanted me to work shorter hours. I wanted her to talk less, or maybe never.
Friends tell me I should make an effort to date, but I’m more comfortable at a gruesome homicide scene than making small talk at dinner with a woman or a man. Yeah, I like both. I stopped going out with men when I entered the academy. I just couldn’t deal with the shit the guys would give me. Now, I don’t advertise what I like, but I pick up a guy now and then. I’m discreet, but if somebody finds out, I’ll deal.
One-night stands I can handle, but relationships are beyond me. People think police work is draining, but I’d rather spend all day in the field and all night at my desk filling out fucking paperwork — and often I do — than try to decode relationship signals. I inevitably screw things up and never understand why.
Sex I need. Romance I don’t.
My phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket hoping the call will save me from the mountain of paperwork on my desk. It’s Drew Danvers, detective and vampire. That’s right, a vampire who works for the good guys. We’ve got a werewolf in homicide too. And he’s a damn fine cop.
I remember when the shifters came out of the closet, scaring the hell out of us humans. One by one other monsters made themselves known. Most people assumed they were all assholes who wanted to eat us, but I quickly learned not to judge a man because he sucked blood or turned into a wolf. I judge men based on how they treat others.
I answer the call. “What’s up, Detective?”
“Two dead werewolves found in a closet at Shift. Hacked up pretty bad. The scene’s a circus. Jenkins called in sick. I’m on my own, and –”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
“No problem. Murder scene or paperwork, which would you choose?”
I step inside the club. A crime lab team is there and several uniformed officers are talking with employees. I spot Drew in the entryway of an office. He’s frowning as he questions a tall hairy hunk of a man. I’ve seen this man around the area several times, and just like every other time, he makes my cock sit up and take notice.
Our most recent encounter was a week ago. When I want to grab a beer and be left the fuck alone, I go to Mitch’s, a dive just down the street from Shift. Last time I spent the evening there, he sat next to me at the bar and came on strong. I was in a shitty mood. I wanted him, and it pissed me off. He’s not my type. He’s young, hip, and outrageously flirtatious. I walked away, but I regretted it later that night when I couldn’t stop fantasizing about him.
The man looks my way and catches me staring. His grin says he knows the direction my thoughts are going. Fucking bastard winks at me. Drew scowls.
I turn to face him. He grins down at me, that same cocky-as-fuck little smile he’d given me earlier, making me even more aware of how close we are and how big he is. At 6’2″, I’m hardly small, but he’s got several inches on me. And while I’ve got a rather thick pelt, the fur visible above the vee of his t-shirt is astounding.
He smiles mischievously. “You gonna cuff me if you take me in?”
“Impeding a murder investigation will get you thrown in jail.”
He rolls his eyes. “I found two dead guys in my closet when I came to work tonight. My business is shut down, and I’ll be losing money every minute that you’re here. But at least I have a sense of humor.”
“Well, I don’t.”
He shakes his head. “Are you taken too?”
I take another step back. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”
I look over at Drew and realize he and Jason are grinning like loons. Fuck. All I need is the two of them ragging me.
I glare at Drew. “Detective, do you think you can question this man without killing him?”
“Fine. Fleetfoot, head back to the lab. Take my car. I’ll get a ride with Danvers.” I throw him my keys, and he snatches them out of the air as he gives Drew’s hand a final squeeze. Jason is better in the lab than any tech we have. We only send him into the field when we’re desperately short-handed. I run a hand through my hair, wishing I knew how I’m going to hold the homicide division together if we don’t get more funds.
He holds out his hand. “I’m Brandon Lord. I own Shift.”
“Lieutenant Morrison.” I shake his hand. His skin is surprisingly smooth, his grip tight and warm. I want to feel those big hands running over me. I want to rub his furry body with my own. Fuck! I should assign someone else to this case right now and get the hell away from him. But some crazy restlessness he’s dredged up in me makes me fight my instincts.
“Nice to meet you, Lieutenant.” His voice is low and rich. And his grin lets me know he’s well aware of my body’s reaction to him.
I need to get away. His smell alone is making me hard. “I’m not here to play games. Drop the act and treat this case seriously, or I’ll find an excuse to throw your ass in jail.”
He grins. Fuck, he knows he’s got me rattled. “I’d never kill anyone, Lieutenant. I’m just a cuddly teddy bear.”
The bear shifter and the bear. Ridiculous. I need to leave now. This man is no cuddly toy. I don’t think he’s our murderer, but he’s far smarter than he wants me to believe and likely far more dangerous. “I know what cuddling leads to.”
Brandon laughs, a deep, infectious sound. I can’t help but respond. Now I want him more than ever. Taking this case was a supremely stupid idea, staying on it now is unprofessional.
But I won’t walk away.
Deer shifter Jason Fleetfoot has turned his life around. After years of taking chances, he’s got a job as a crime lab technician, and he’s determined to forgo the risky behavior of his past.
Then he meets Drew Danvers, the only undead detective in the city. Jason hates vampires, or does he? Drew defies all the stereotypes of his kind and something about him has taken hold of Jason and won’t let go.
Will Jason take a chance on a man others would label a risk to his health if not his very life?
I’m Jason Fleetfoot. I’ve made a lot of stupid mistakes in my life. The stupidest of all was taking a job with some assholes intent on manufacturing illegal chemical weapons.
My sister, Natalie, lost her job when her company folded, and I lost mine because my fucking boss was a bastard. I’ve got authority issues. And control issues. Alright, I’m seriously fucked up, but I wasn’t going to let my sister starve because I couldn’t keep it together.
So I made a deal with the devil and damn near got myself and Natalie killed. She saved me, she and her cop boyfriend, Wolf. The name’s not a joke. He’s a werewolf. Did I mention we’re shifters, Natalie and I. Deer shifters. If you think my human form is impressive, you should see me as a ten point buck. So yeah, a werewolf and a deer shifter. Somehow they’re making it work.
As much as I hate being beholden to Wolf, I wouldn’t be where I am now if it wasn’t for him. Once the cops cleared me, Wolf helped me get a job in the crime lab where I can use my knowledge of chemistry and computers for the good guys.
As the newest hire, I work nights, babysitting the equipment and working on what comes in during the wee hours. For the most part, I like it. It’s quiet and I get a chance to play around with new techniques and do a bit of programming. There’s only one problem, Detective Drew Danvers.
He works nights too. Not because he’s new, because he’s a God-damned vampire. They say he was Changed against his will. But what the hell was he doing picking up a vampire at a bar? I certainly have no intention of fucking a vampire. No matter how damn fuckable Drew is. Yeah, I like men, what of it? And Drew is a fine specimen of a man, like some Viking warrior. He’s at least 6’3” with sculpted arms and pecs that make him look like he could lift a truck one-handed. Considering he’s a vamp, he probably can.
Getting involved with Drew would be stupid on too many levels to count. And I’m finished with making stupid decisions. So why does my body want so desperately to be impaled on him – his cock, his fangs, anything he’d like to stick in me. Natalie’s right, my dick really doesn’t communicate with my brain. I don’t just want to fuck him, I want to be taken by him, and I never want that. Like I said, I have control issues. But with Drew . . . No, there’s never going to be anything with Drew.
I hear the buzz that signals someone entering the lab. I glance around from behind the mass spec machine. Shit! Speak of the devil or in this case his undead minion.
My pride will not let me hide even though I want to. I’m not afraid of him, even if I should be. I’m just afraid my unruly cock will give away my interest.
His gaze slides up and down my body. He’s looked at me like this before. But I have never been sure whether it’s sexual interest or him salivating over me like I’m a piece of the lush chocolate cake my grandma used to make on Sundays. “You alone in here, Fleetfoot?”
Shit, maybe he does mean to make a meal out of me. No point in lying though. He probably already knows the answer. Aren’t vampires supposed to be damn near omnipotent? “Newton called in sick, and everyone else is out in the field.
“Good.” Danvers smiles, still eyeing me like I’m prey. If I was in deer form I’d bolt, white tail flagging danger. But I’m a man and his ice blue gaze has me glued to the spot. God above, he’s gorgeous when he smiles. My cock is starting to get uncomfortable in my jeans.
My heart pounds as I try to interpret his response. Does he mean “good I’m going to give you to the best fuck of your life” or “good I’m going to drain your blood and leave you for dead”.