Summer is here, and the loving is easy!
Slake your thirst for romance with Summer Lovin'—an anthology for lazy days and summer sunshine.
Go skinny-dipping in a disused quarry. Hang out with the boys in the band. Meet a bad boy made good, and one with a shy smile that hides a dark secret. Or maybe get your heart pillaged by a Viking re-enactor.
With gentle humour, hot sauce and a hefty scoop of romance, enjoy a quintet of sultry stories of men loving men from Clare London, Chrissy Munder, JL Merrow, Josephine Myles, and Lou Harper.
The mercury's not the only thing that's rising!
Summer Hire by Chrissy Munder
Lost and Found on Lindisfarne by JL Merrow
Salt ’n’ Vinegar by Clare London
Werewolves of Venice Beach by Lou Harper
By Quarry Lake by Josephine Myles
Jim Carlson had nothing against porn. Being twenty-two and single, he had more than a passing acquaintance with that particular genre of filmmaking, thank you very much. But other than one night his first year in college where he was really, really, drunk? He'd never thought he'd be starring in one.
Was he dreaming? Jim didn't think so. A restless sleeper at the best of times, he had trouble adjusting to new places, and the Vedders' attic bedroom, while cozy, wasn't his familiar campus apartment. He gave the inside of his wrist a surreptitious pinch to make sure, and rubbed at the resulting sting. Okay, he was definitely awake. Option two? This was one of those shock-based television shows, and some third-rate celebrity host was going to jump out of nowhere and yell, "Surprise, here's your gay fantasy".
Either way, Jim couldn't help but check for cameras. Because when he and his friend, Cheryl Vedder, had strolled into the stifling hot garage to meet their new employer; some buddy of her brother's who ran a repair/summer rental business, they'd walked right into a scene from one of his favorite all-adult DVDs.
Cars on hoists? Check. An assortment of tools scattered around the benches alongside the back? Check. Tires piled against the other wall? Country music blaring from the battered radio in the corner? The air itself a heady mix of oil and exhaust? Oh yeah, it was all there. Including the man over by the hoist who made Jim want to slide on over and drop to his knees in the purest time-honored tradition, the better to properly say hello.
Jim savored the view. 'Cause seriously, somehow someone had poked through his DVD collection and put all of his favorites in one drool worthy, coverall wearing package.
He hummed approval at the shoulder-length dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail before letting let his gaze wander its greedy way over each inch of sweaty, lean, and--be still his beating heart--tattooed muscle. The thin white tank and slim waist exposed by the unzipped coveralls completed the picture. Yeah, he was a sucker for the classics. Sue him.
Jim told himself the prickly sensation crawling under his skin was from the humidity, and wiped at the sweat beaded on his forehead as every hunky-mechanic-meets-twink-customer vignette he'd ever beat off to flashed through his mind.
Forget the fun-in-the-sun summer Cheryl had promised him in return for a few hours of mindless labor. Forget the chance to use this break to find a job and a place to live, both of which he desperately needed now that he had graduated and was basically homeless without the security of campus housing. If this was the scenery the west side of Michigan had to offer, his summer was looking up. Sure, there was the whole pesky is he gay/is he straight thing to deal with, but Jim was willing to take the risk.
"O.M.G." Jim breathed as he clutched at Cheryl's arm. "I think I'm in love."
I usually try to let my writing speak for itself but I’ve been told that a bit of info about me might be amusing to some readers. Never let it be said I stood in the way of anyone’s amusement! So, for the curious, here’s a little background on your’s truly.
The joke when I was growing up was that no one could remember a time when I wasn’t reading. I was born with a book in my hand (ouch, sorry about that, Mom!) and haven’t put it down since. At the age of seven I commandeered an old desk in the basement, set out some pencils and paper and grandly announced the “writer was at work”.
Well, the more practical aspects of life interrupted those plans and I was forced to become a practicing realist in an effort to combat my tendency to dream but here I am once again, happy to share with you my love of romance and fiction.
Even though I’ve lived in more states than I have fingers to count I tend to set a fair portion of my fiction along the Western Coast of Michigan and I always try to highlight a few interesting aspects of the coast in my stories.
I feel there isn’t a more romantic or interesting location around and I am a firm believer in the transforming magic of romance in all its many guises whether it be het, m/m or f/f.
Please, come with me and share the magic.
Clare took the pen name London from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with her other day job as an accountant. She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with award-winning novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic and sexy characters.
Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter 3 stage and plenty of other projects in mind . . . she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home.
All the details and free fiction are available at her website. Visit her today and say hello!
JL Merrow is that rare beast, an English person who refuses to drink tea. She read Natural Sciences at Cambridge, where she learned many things, chief amongst which was that she never wanted to see the inside of a lab ever again. Her one regret is that she never mastered the ability of punting one-handed whilst holding a glass of champagne.
She writes across genres, with a preference for contemporary gay romance and the paranormal, and is frequently accused of humour. Her novella Muscling Through was a 2013 EPIC Award finalist, and her novel Slam! won the 2013 Rainbow Award for Best LGBT Romantic Comedy. Her novel Relief Valve is a finalist in the 2015 EPIC Awards.
JL Merrow is a member of the UK GLBTQ Fiction Meet organising team.
English through and through, Josephine Myles is addicted to tea and busy cultivating a reputation for eccentricity. She writes gay erotica and romance, but finds the erotica keeps cuddling up to the romance, and the romance keeps corrupting the erotica. She blames her rebellious muse but he never listens to her anyway, no matter how much she threatens him with a big stick. She's beginning to suspect he enjoys it.
Note to readers: I don't read reviews of my stories on here anymore, as I think they're geared for other readers, not the writers (plus I'm chicken and would rather stick my fingers in my ears going "la-la-la"). If you'd like to let me know what you thought about any of my stories, please PM me or send me an email. I'd be very happy to hear from you :)
Under a prickly, cynical surface Lou Harper is an incorrigible romantic. Her love affair with the written word started at a tender age. There was never a time when stories weren't romping around in her head. She is currently embroiled in a ruinous romance with adjectives. In her free time Lou stalks deviant words and feral narratives.
Lou's favorite animal is the hedgehog. She likes nature, books, movies, photography, and good food. She has a temper and mood swings.
Lou has misspent most of her life in parts of Europe and the US, but is now firmly settled in Los Angeles and worships the sun. However, she thinks the ocean smells funny. Lou is a loner, a misfit, and a happy drunk.