What is it about two men having sex and falling love that is so compelling? Back when I thought I was the only woman on the planet drawn to gay male romance novels and erotica, I tried not to analyze myself as I voraciously read each book that I could find. And, they were books back then, as in pieces of paper bound together. Major bookstore chains had had an epiphany by the time I came looking, which means they had a gay/lesbian section. I would head for that sign as if it were a beacon. I remember how there would be two separate sections and I’d peruse the men’s until someone else came up. I’d shift my body and my gaze, pretending I was interested in the women’s section. I wanted people to believe I was a lesbian because I didn’t want to come off as some woman gawking at the lives of gay men. It seemed disrespectful somehow and I assumed the men looking in that section were by and large gay. I didn’t worry so much about buying the books. Once you’re handed your feminine hygiene products to a teenage boy at the checkout counter at CVS, you’re pretty much blasé about buying anything.
I loved those books. They were all written by men, so I assumed they were genuine windows into their lives. They had all of the elements I loved in MF romance and erotica – emotions, drama, passion and hot, hot sex. They also typically had the HEA that I crave. On rare occasions – oh, joy, oh rapture unforeseen – I’d find a BDSM story. In the end, it wasn’t so hard to understand my interest. I loved the quintessential males in MF stories. So, gay novels were a natural progression for me. The only thing better than one fabulous man is two.
When I started my writing career, I picked romance, then erotica because that was what I loved to read myself. When my dear friend, Dalton Diaz, and I decided to write an erotica together, we chose to do an MMF story. We agreed that while we could write a hot MF, MMF would be super-hot. It took me a little while longer to plunge into just MM, but when I did, I couldn’t resist making it BDSM. Although One Night in a Dungeon was a short story, it gave me confidence to go further with Man Candy. Now I can’t imagine not writing MM stories. With the Alien Slave Masters series, however, I’m also moving past the need for two alpha male heroes. I like the idea of one of the men being more of a beta. Perhaps that’s the Domme in me coming out. Pretty “boys” under the control of stronger men tantalizes me.
When a distant planet’s ownership is in dispute, conquering aliens turn defiant human males into pampered sex slaves.
In a not-too-distant future, a lopsided war has led to aliens invading and occupying an Earth settlement. Wid is a young colonist who has been caught harassing the aliens. He and his friends are rounded up and sent to an alien warship patrolling the disputed space. His fate is to serve as a sex slave for the ship’s imposing captain. Wid, at first, fights against his enslavement, but soon learns that not only does he stand no chance against the much larger and stronger captain, he isn’t sure he even wants to.
Like all Travian males, Kell is bound by duty to defend his people. Having risen to the rank of captain, he nevertheless chafes against the boring and endless patrol of the space invaded by the humans. His misses his family and constantly guards against his scheming first officer. He sees his reward of a human sex slave as more of a nuisance. Yet the pretty, fair-haired human’s exotic allure is hard to resist. He finds far more pleasure in the use of his pet than he would like.
Kept naked and leashed, Wid’s days are filled with boredom, while his nights wrapped in Kell’s arms turn from fear into pleasure. Even as the humans plot their escape, Wid and Kell form a bond and their growing affection cannot be ignored. When tensions boil over among the aliens, Wid and his friends may be Kell and his crew’s only chance for survival.
Reader Advisory: This book contains sex scenes of both non-consensual and dubious consent, as well as scenes of violence, abuse and torture.
They were all so young looking, child-like almost in their play. The guilt he felt over how these humans were being treated, never far from his thoughts, niggled hard as he watched his pet laughingly shove another boy. Would that he’d do the same when he was with Kell, but that was absurdly stupid. It was never going to happen, especially so long as Kell continued to invade the boy’s body without invitation.
His internal timer told him the playing needed to come to an end. His officers had taken time out of their rest to allow this and as strict and tight as their schedules were, he couldn’t afford to have them thrown too far off it. He went to a wall and reached inside the storage container to pull out drying clothes. Tossing one to each of the others within reach, he ordered, “Make sure your pet is dry before taking it out into the cold corridor.”
He strode into the melee of the game, his mere presence stopping them. Hating the flash of disappointment on his pet’s face, he felt compelled to soften the blow. “You will be brought back here tomorrow,” he reassured them and ignored the looks of surprise on his officers’ faces.
When he reached his pet, the boy tried to take the cloth from Kell’s hands. Kell pulled it away from his grasp and instead wrapped it around the boy’s shoulders. The human was his responsibility and by the Mother, he would see to his care. With vigorous strokes, he wiped the sweat from the smaller body, starting with the pretty hair that was darker than usual from wetness. He worked his way past the scowling face and down the well-defined torso that glistened and smelled delightfully spicy. The rosy nubs on the boy’s chest were hardened points that he could feel through the thin cloth. They begged to be tweaked and laved, and it was hard to resist their lure. Decorum stayed his impulse and forced him to be clinical, if not rough, in his efforts.
His pet stayed motionless throughout the drying until Kell brushed against the flaccid cock lying between braced legs. With a hiss, the boy pulled back. Kell held him in place with a firm grip on his slender hip, but didn’t linger on the tantalizing flesh, nor cup the balls hanging low behind it. Instead, he moved onto the legs. His human pet was slight in stature, yet he was every bit as firm as any Travian. No matter how young he’d seemed while playing, this was no child.