The Errant Prince by Sasha L. Miller

I recently received a copy of The Errant Prince from Less than Three Press through NetGalley. I adore Less Than Three Press so I had to give it a read. Here's the cover and Goodreads blurb:

Myron's task is easy enough on the surface: locate the runaway Prince Tamsen and bring him home. But Tamsen is not merely a talented wizard, he's an exceptionally stubborn one, and dozens of others have already failed at the task. When he manages to find the cabin where Tamsen is hiding, Myron isn't foolish enough to mistake the find for a victory.

Instead of attempting to drag the prince home by force, Myron tries a different tact: patience. He might not be able to best Tamsen magically or physically, but Myron can certainly out-stubborn him. He's nothing if not used to doing what other people say he can't.

But neither prince nor soldier expected stubbornness to be the crack in armor they've both become adept at wearing…

I found this story of friendship and romance to be absolutely adorable. I loved how casually and matter of factly Myron's gender was discussed. It was refreshing. I also loved the way that the author painted a picture with her words of the sweet little cottage and the magical prince who chooses to live there. It was so vivid and lovely. The idea that the two characters would become friends and then fall for each other is a great idea for a realistic romance in an unrealistic setting. I highly recommend this great little romance.

You can click here to add The Errant Prince to your Goodreads. You can also find author Sasha L. Miller on her website and on Twitter. I give The Errant Prince 4 Fairies for a sweet story or friendship becoming more.

Countdown to RainbowCon: Guest Post by Rory Ni Coileain

Can You Get Your Virginity Back?

You sure can. Your convention virginity, anyway. Or so it would appear, based (until recently) on my panic level as Rainbow Con approaches!
My first convention was Minicon – the Minnesota Science Fiction Association Convention – in 1979. I was in utero. Kidding – I was 16. It was definitely memorable. I met my first husband that weekend. Maybe I should have paid more attention to the date at the time (Friday the 13th). I first saw people walking around in costumes in April like it was a totally normal thing to do. And I met my first pro author, Theodore Sturgeon.
Once I’d had the gateway drug, I was primed and ready for the next step, a Star Trek convention in Kansas City to following year. It, too, was memorable. I learned what happens when you go without sleep for longer than 48 hours. (The words “Air Control”, next to a knob on your hotel room wall, become hysterically funny.) I added DeForest Kelley to my list of ST:TOS cast members whom I’ve hugged. (The only ones still missing from that list are James Doohan, whom I will now never get to meet, and William Shatner, whom I’m not quite up for paying $100 for the privilege of meeting.) I also learned how to cry on cue, when either my boyfriend (see Minicon, above) or my friend’s boyfriend accidentally kicked a Klingon security guard in the mouth during a rather vigorous costume contest presentation. (We were kidnapping Grace Lee Whitney, for the record.)
The best year for Minicon was probably 1988, when I got to talk to Diane Duane and Jane Yolen within minutes of each other. Fortunately, I managed to save the hyperventilating and passing out until I was around the corner and out of sight. Kidding, again – I carry oxygen to cons in case of emergencies like these.
And three years ago, I took my son to his first convention. He was a little younger than I’d been at my first, and he loved it – he thought he was off the leash, but what he didn’t realize was that Mom knew the whole staff and the whole staff had Mom’s cell phone number. This has been a fruitful working relationship ever since.
The point of this whole historical sketch has been to illustrate my point – I’m a hoary old convention veteran. (I was going to leave out the “hoary old”, but my son thinks it belongs there. I’m not sure he knew about the whole Mom’s-cell-phone thing until he read that over my shoulder just now.) I’ve done it all – stood in line for autographs, competed in the Masquerade, sat on panels, been the subject of unauthorized art in the art show. (Let’s just say that I appreciated the artist thinking I looked that good naked, but it still came as something of a startlement.)
Yet when it came to getting ready for my first convention as a capital-A Author, all of a sudden I was in a panic. What should I bring? How much of it should I bring? What should I wear? What am I going to do if I run out of books? What should I pick to read? What does a Lady of a Certain Age wear to a nightclub?
Boom! – virgin once more.
Fortunately, thanks to some sage advice from my friends at Rainbow Romance Writers – thank you, Damon and Kate! – and after listening to some of my fellow authors chatting about what they’re expecting, I got a little perspective back. (And it’s only slighty disappointing that I didn’t get my virginity back after all.) I was very surprised, although maybe I shouldn’t have been, to discover how many of the people I’m looking forward to meeting consider themselves introverts. Me, after *ahem* 35 years of convention-going, I have that part down pat, and I can’t wait to put faces to the names I’ve been chatting with online, some of them for years. I’m looking forward to the panels, too, both the ones I’m on and the ones I can sneak away from my table to get to. I have to admit, doing a public reading from my books is going to be a new experience (but in a good way – I used to be a nightclub singer in New York City, getting up and reading my own lovely randy Fae should be a breeze) and a book signing is going to feel weird, given that until now I’ve always been the one queuing up.
It’s not that different, really, from what I grew up with. (To the extent I’m grown up, which is debatable.) Fun panels, dressing up, late night pizza in the con suite, passionate conversations about books. And great people. People who speak my language. This is going to be fun – see you all in Tampa! (And if anyone knows what filksinging is, and feels like doing some, I’ll bet we can find a room…)

(By the way, if you’d like to come celebrate with me – the second novella in the Tales of the Grove, Tempted from the Oak, just released yesterday, from Ellora’s Cave! As of this writing, here’s the link I have -- http://www.ellorascave.com/tempted-from-the-oak.html And the latest will be on my Facebook page, at www.facebook.com/Soulshares !)

About Tempted from the Oak

With his blue eyes and heart-melting smile, Gavin could have been made-to-order to entice Tearlach, a lonely tree spirit. But the human has been enticed—stolen from snow-buried Minneapolis to the Scottish Highlands by Tearlach’s darag, the ancient oak tree of which he is the living spirit.

Tearlach is trapped within the darag by the terrible memory of his own death—hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago, but as recent to him as his last heartbeat. And if desire for the handsome human fails to tempt him out, spirit and oak are both doomed.

Gavin is more than willing to be Tearlach’s temptation. But Gavin has a history of his own—a hopeless dream, one impossible relationship after another. Surely a perfect lover, a sensual tree spirit living in the shadow of a holy mountain half a world away, is another unattainable dream. Can he expect Tearlach to trust his heart when he doesn’t trust it himself?

Buy Tempted From the Oak on Amazon!

Rory Ni Coileain can be found on Wordpress, Twitter and Facebook!

Countdown to RainbowCon Guest Post: Stephen del Mar

Today I have a super guest post from author Stephen del Mar.  Stephen has recently released his book, Dark Love.  Welcome Stephen! 

So where to begin? Where do things begin? Where do you start a story? Where do you start the story of yourself? I know, a lot of questions. But writers ask questions and I’ve had the question of beginnings on my mind a lot this month, because it’s been a period of “firsts” for me. I just published my first novel, I’m preparing for my first writers Con, and now I’m doing my first guest blog post. It seems this old bear is having to learn a few new tricks.*
The beginning for the part of my story that’s relevant to this post happened back in May, 2013. After forty-some years, and a good amount of prodding from a friend or two, I finished my first short story and published it for the world to read. And an amazing thing happened; most people didn’t think it sucked. This amazed me, because I always had trouble in English classes. I have a bit of a learning disability that made writing a real, well, I think, “bitch” in the technical term. When word processing came along, and when it came to writing, I was pretty much literate, or it appeared so.
But I still wanted to tell stories. However, the storyteller’s soul can be a fragile thing, at least mine was—back in the fifth grade. I wrote my first story, The Venus Five, about a boy who finds a space ship and a boyfriend. The feedback was that my spelling sucked and boys can’t have boyfriends. Well, it was 1972, but I knew sure as hell I wanted a boyfriend; and a spaceship would have been cool, too. I still wanted to write, but it was hard. I never got the message that rough drafts could be bad, that there were people called editors who could help, and you really didn’t have to have an outline. The message I got was ‘you can’t do this’ and ‘boy doesn’t meet boy and get boy.’
I pushed the idea of writing away. Yet every now and then it became this little, irritating itch in the back of my mind that I’d bring out to scratch, but I’d get overwhelmed with frustration and put it away again. Then I met up with an old, high-school friend. She asked, “Why aren’t you writing?” I told her. Then she asked, “Why aren’t you writing?” We had a long talk about how each writer has to find their own style and method. I found out that unlike what all the “How to Write” books say, you don’t need an outline. In fact, there was a whole group of writers that go by the seat of their pants. And she offered to help. “Get the first draft done and we’ll go from there.”
That offer of help transformed me. I found my voice. Yeah, it’s a rather wacky, authorial voice, but it’s all mine and I’m not shutting up anymore. It is the idea of writers’ voices that has me excited about RainbowCon. I see it as a great chorus singing the stories that have, for so long, been hidden. Voices singing the stories of girls finding girls, of boys finding love in the arms of other boys, the stories of girls becoming boys, and so many other stories of the wonderful rainbow that is humanity. Yeah, I’m humbled and scared shitless to raise my voice in that chorus.
And what does one do at a Con anyway? I know I have about ten minutes to read something. I have no idea what that should be. I’m also on three of the panels, yeah that’s intimidating. They are Writing Diversity, Appropriation and Fetishization, and Rape: Not a Laughing Matter. If anyone has any suggestions for something profound that can be said in about six minutes on any of these, please pass it along! I’m leaning toward: 1) It’s a good thing. We need more. 2) Don’t do it. 3) Be respectful. This is a real, traumatic thing that screws people up, not just a plot device. On the lighter side, I heard there will be a pizza party. Bears like pizza.
I should probably close this by actually saying something about my writing. Well, I’m a gay man that writes stories that have gay men in them. They also have other kinds of people too, but gotta have me some gay boys in my stories. So far, I’ve published a handful of short stories, a novella, and my new novel. Most of the stories are set in the fictional town of Bennett Bay, Florida, and the surrounding area. They’re a neo-southern-gothic-gay thing and a few of them have paranormal elements. There’s a bit of vodou and witchcraft sprinkled in the stories about life in the swamp and a tourist town. My new novel, Dark Love, started out as a fun poke at the paranormal romance genre, but developed some serious parts along with the humor. I tend to throw in a bit of pop-culture references and fun to lighten the mood, when my boys get too serious. I’m having a Rafflecopter giveaway for a free copy of the book.
I want to think Megan for offering me this space to ramble on about myself and share my excitement about the upcoming RainbowCon. I’m still amazed that something like this is happening. I’m sure it will be a transforming experience to be part of the chorus singing the rainbow stories!
* “Bear” is gay slang for a chubby and furry man, which I am. We all can’t be pretty, young twinks. :)

Stephen del Mar can be found on his website, Facebook, and Twitter.  You can find his book, Dark Love, on Amazon.  Stephen has been kind enough to offer up a Kindle Copy of his book through Amazon.  Enter to win below! 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Countdown To RainbowCon Guest Post by Vicktor Alexander

Today I have a guest post from author Vicktor Alexander as part of the Countdown to RainbowCon!

Follow the Rainbow Brick Road All the Way to RainbowCon

It is March 2014 and I am practically vibrating with excitement over RainbowCon. In a little over a month, authors and readers of LGBTQI romance and fiction will descend upon central Florida and laugh, play, share, talk, assemble and get up to all manner of mayhem and foolishness.
I’m excited about this for a number of reasons. I was unable to attend GRL last year and because of internet issues and confusion over the waiting list (“How do I get on the waiting list?”) I’m unable to attend GRL this year as well, but RainbowCon affords me the opportunity to still mingle with not only the readers, whom I love, but my fellow authors whom I enjoy (some of whom I love, some of whom I adore, some of whom I fanboy over).
And the best thing about RainbowCon?
It’s right in my backyard!
Tampa is 30 minutes away from Lakeland, which is where I currently live, and that makes things EXTREMELY cheaper for me.
Tampa is also my former stomping grounds (I was once a freshman at the University of South Florida. Okay, it was only a semester, but still… and I LIVED in Tampa! Temple Terrace at one point and Riverview at another point which is just outside of Brandon) so it will be fun to be somewhere with my author and reader friends and be able to tell them that, yes, there is a Burger King, McDonald’s, and a Wendy’s right down the street from the hotel and yes, it is WAY cheaper than what you pay up north and yes, there IS a Starbuck’s.
I look forward to being able to go to Ybor with them all and relive the days when my friends and I went clubbing when I was too young to actually get into the club (I was 17 years old for the first few months of my freshman year of college while all of my friends were 18. They snuck me in because I looked so mature for my age) and then when I was old enough but felt TOO old to be in the club (“what do you MEAN it’s midnight?! It’s time to go home and go to bed! I don’t want to go to a club, NOW! Are you CRAZY?!”)
But even more than that I look forward to interacting with the readers, because that’s what makes these conventions all worth it. More than the events, the panels, the Q&A’s, the readings, the book signings, and everything else, it’s talking to the readers, meeting the readers, answering their questions (“When’s the next Tate Pack book coming out?” “When’s Willie’s Earl coming out?” “When are you going to write the full-length story about Braxton and Hamilton?” “When is Buck and Percy’s story coming out?” “Why aren’t you writing right now?” “I loved The Beginning, so when’s book two coming out? It’s about Benjamin right?” “Oh my god! I LOVE Raising Shawna! The next book is about Uriah right? And that’s coming out when?” “Are you done with Daddy’s Boy yet?”), laughing with them, talking about my favorite authors (“Yes, I do stalk Stormy Glenn but I think she likes it.” “Yeah I know Gabrielle Evans, but I still stalk her too.” “Yeah, me and Jana Downs text all the time but doesn’t mean I’m not still a HUGE fanboy.”) and hearing about what they liked, what they disliked, what they want to see more of, what they want to see less of, and even hearing about their families.
Because that’s what these conventions are about. The readers. They’re not about me, Vicktor Alexander, making a name for myself. It’s not about “Look at me! I’m an author!” It’s about me giving back to my readers, letting them see me, talk to me, ask questions. It’s about encouraging budding authors, or helping aspiring ones. It’s about giving back to a community of people that has given so much to me.
And if I get to have fun and get a lapdance or three while I do that? Well… that’s just the icing on the cake.

What Panel/Event Are You Most Looking Forward To?
I think I am most looking forward to the “Fifty Shades of WTF” panel. Not just because I’m on it, but because of what the panel stands for, who else is on the panel with me and the fact that it gives us the opportunity to really dispel some myths, ease some worries and really squash some misconceptions perpetuated by “the book that shall not be named.” LOL. It’s a subject (BDSM) that’s very near and dear to my heart, one that I very much look forward to being able to discuss openly and freely. I look forward to answering questions about it and talking about it with the readers and other authors as well.

I’m also very excited because my book, The Beginning, Sons of Adam: 1, released just in time for RainbowCon so I get to brag about that! And because it will be out on paperback at the Con, I am giving away a free ebook copy to one lucky person who comments on this post!

Here is the blurb/excerpt and buy-links for the book:

Ronny Parker has always been aware that there was more to life outside of his Harlem apartment. When he goes to work one morning at Starbucks, he finds himself coming face to face with a reality that he was not prepared for. He finds himself the eyewitness to a fight between two shifters, a wolf and a lion, one of which bites Ronny and calls him “mate.” When Ronny wakes up the next morning he finds himself thrust into a world neither his family, nor his teachers ever taught him about and he does the only thing he can do. He starts to investigate.
Cole Tronk has been taught from an early age that he is never to mate a human, never reveal his true nature to a human and that he cannot be gay. But when he gets into a fight with his oldest friend outside of a Starbucks and finds himself smelling the most intoxicating scent ever, he throws all of those rules out of the window. Before long, Cole and his mate, Ronny are on the run from the governing body of the paranormals, humans who have now discovered that paranormals, magicks and supernaturals exist, and someone from Ronny’s past who is determined to kill them both.
Along the way, Cole and Ronny meet up with a group of paranormals, magicks, and supernaturals who are also gay, and who are researching the true history of the world and creation. What they find will not only change their lives, but the entire world and the future. Will Ronny and Cole’s mating survive all of these obstacles and when a millennias old lie comes back to bite them in the ass, will Ronny and Cole be able to deal with the consequences?

Excerpt:

Noticing that the bus was approaching the store where he worked, Ronny reached up a hand and pulled down on the string to signal for the bus to stop. He winced at the loud noise that sounded and rose from his seat. Walking down the stairs, he stopped at the side door and waited for the bus to come to a stop. Finally able to step off, Ronny squared his shoulders and stepped out of the open doors onto the sidewalk. He smiled at the two women leaving the store and walked around the side to the employee entrance. He stopped shortly after. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh, grunts, and curses reached his ears and it didn’t sound as if there were people having sex. It sounded like a fight. Groaning, Ronny raced forward. He was only five feet and eleven inches tall, built like a swimmer to boot, but he’d found that being black would sometimes chase away troublemakers, regardless of his slim build. Coming to a stop, Ronny’s mouth dropped open. His coworker, Benjamin, was fighting another man, but that wasn’t what shocked Ronny. It was the fact that Benjamin’s hands looked like wolf paws and the man he was fighting had hands like a lion. Ronny gasped when both men shifted into animals, backing up until he bumped into the wall behind him. His gasp alerted them to his presence and he watched with wide eyes as they approached him slowly.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” Ronny chanted. “This is how I’m going to die.”
The lion shifted then, back into the form of a man. The lion man walked over towards Ronny and sniffed the air around him. Ronny trembled and began praying internally. This was not how he wanted to die. Not how he planned to be remembered. Killed by a freaky lion shifter person.
“Mmmm,” the lion man hummed. “Mate.”
Ronny’s eyes widened. He’d read enough romance novels to know what that word meant and he also knew that there was never a black man or woman involved in something like that. Mates seemed to be only for other races, so there was no way that he could be somebody’s mate.
“M-mate?” he stammered. “No. You’ve got it all wrong.”
The lion man shook his head. “There is no mistake. You are my mate. I am your destiny. My name is Cole Tronk,” the lion said.
Ronny stared at him in amazement. Cole stood at least six-foot-four and he was all thick muscles, skin that was a beautiful golden tan color, brown hair with gold highlights, and eyes so dark brown they almost looked black. As Ronny’s gaze traveled over the expanse of skin, he felt his own skin grow tight and hot as he took in Cole’s naked form and the thick, long cock hanging between his thighs. Ronny’s body responded to the man’s nudity, his own dick growing firm behind his zipper and his anus clenching as if preparing itself to be speared by Cole’s thick member. Cole’s jaw was square and firm, his lips full, and his nose slim, which twitched as Cole inhaled deeply. He grinned at Ronny and stepped closer.
“I can smell your lust for me, mate.” Cole’s voice was deep and smooth like whiskey. The sound of it flowed over Ronny’s body, tightening it further and making him moan softly.
“I-I’m not your m-mate,” Ronny stammered. “I’m black and human.”
Cole let out a bark of laughter before leaning forward to sniff at the column of Ronny’s neck. He let out a low growl before licking the skin there. Ronny shivered so hard he thought he would fly apart as the front of his pants grew wet with his pre-cum.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispered and clenched his fists against the wall.
Something inside of him wanted to reach out to Cole. He wanted to bring the other man against his body, preferably with both of them naked. He wanted to feel Cole thrusting inside of him. He ached deep inside for… something. He didn’t know what, but he knew that it was somehow the most important thing ever. He noticed that his breath and Cole’s seemed to be in sync and he watched, amazed that whenever he breathed out, Cole inhaled and vice versa. It was as if they were each other’s air.
Riiight, he mentally scoffed. I am not some fucking twink in a romance novel.
Giving himself a mental shake, Ronny raised his hands to push Cole away, who seemed to have gotten so much closer to him in the few seconds it took for Ronny to think. His hands landed on firm pecs and, though he’d told himself that he was pushing the other man away, he found himself squeezing the flesh instead, his palms grazed by the puckered nipples on Cole’s chest.
“Shit,” Cole growled.
It was Ronny’s only warning before sharp pain pierced the join of his neck and left shoulder as Cole, the lion man, buried his fangs into Ronny’s skin. Ronny let out a loud yell, that quickly turned into a moan as the pain became pleasure. Sweet, overwhelming, delicious pleasure. The kind that had him humping Cole’s thigh where it rested between his own legs. It was a pleasure so amazing that it took him a moment to realize that not only had he just cum in his work pants, effectively ruining them, but that he’d just let some fucking lion man bite him.
He told himself that he was going to push Cole away, but his hands seemed to not be listening to him and instead they rose to wrap around Cole’s neck as the other man groaned and drank Ronny’s blood. After a moment, when Ronny was starting to feel just slightly weak, Cole let go of his neck and licked the wounds. He kissed the skin there and began to purr. At first, it freaked Ronny out, but, after a moment, he found himself more turned on by the purring than he’d been by the bite to his neck.
The bite to his—hold the hell on!
Ronny shoved Cole away from him. Jabbing a finger into Cole’s chest, he glared and let out his own growl. “You fucking bit me, you psycho!”
Cole smirked. “You loved it,” he pointed out, crossing his massive arms across his broad chest.

Buy Links:

http://www.roosterandpigpublishing.com/new-releases
http://www.bookstrand.com/the-beginning-0
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thebeginning-1422096-145.html
http://www.amazon.com/Beginning-Sons-Adam-Vicktor-Alexander-ebook/dp/B00II5PCE8/
http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/the-beginning-27

Author Contacts:

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Website
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Thanks so much to Vicktor for stopping by today!  He has graciously offered up one copy of his recent book, The Beginning to one lucky commenter!  Just leave a comment on this post with a way to contact you (email in this format: YOURNAME at EMAIL dot COM or a Twitter handle).  The giveaway is open to readers 18 and older.

Countdown to RainbowCon: Guest Post with Kathleen Tudor

Today I have a guest post from Kathleen Tudor on Writing as a Professional.  Thanks for joining me Kathleen! 

Have you ever wished that someone in the spotlight would just step aside and let you have your turn in the sun? A certain author has made waves lately with her declaration that J.K. Rowling should quit writing and give the rest of us a chance, as if the publishing industry is a forest, and we little saplings will die in the shadows unless one of the old growth falls.

Sorry, I am not a tree.

While I can understand that sometimes some people feel jealousy and frustration when they look up at someone who is more successful, I also understand that those are personal feelings, not for sharing except maybe over wine with a few close freinds. If you feel jealous, use it. Turn that frustration into fuel for your own writing. Get an extra couple hundred words out today with the power of your outrage. Pull that book of the bestseller shelf and don't just think 'I can do better', DO it.

Or, you know, smear other authors and degrade their success in a public forum and watch the fireworks.

It's true that not everyone can be a megastar, a CEO, or the president of a country. And yet, we don't say, move over, Bill Gates, let someone else have a turn in your chair. Excuse me, Lady Gaga, but could you step off that stage and let someone else have a chance? Your new record is crowding out emerging voices. If those up-and-coming new stars want their voices to be heard, then they have to earn it a la Larry Page and Sergey Brin.

And, frankly, that's the way I prefer things. I'd rather know that whatever measure of success I have, I have earned. I'd rather know that my stories sell to publishers like HarperCollins and Cleis because they're good, not because I waited patiently for my turn to come up. I don't just want success. Success is actually more of a byproduct of my true ambition: I want to be good. I want to practice, to learn, and to keep growing. I want to be the sort of craftswoman that creates stories people enjoy and want to share.

I want to be a professional, and I want to be seen behaving like a professional.

That's one of the reasons I'm looking forward to this year's inaugural RainbowCon small press conference. I am looking forward to sitting on and attending some great panels, meeting and discussing my craft with other writers and editors, and soaking up both new ideas for my craft and the energy of an enthusiastic crowd.

Not incidentally, one of the panels I will be sitting on is a discussion of Author Etiquette, in which I will suggest, among other things, to respect your fellow writers rather than put them down publicly or demand that they quit writing so you can have a turn. You will lose the support of a lot of other writers, and don't forget that presses will also likely come across your public tantrum when they are considering your work. It will not endear them. (See my other panel: Publishing Dos and Don'ts)

I promise, though, I'm not Ms. Manners. Come see me in "Moving Past the G: LBTQ Fiction" on Friday or just hunt for me in the crowd: I'll be wearing a volunteer lanyard, and I'll be looking forward to meeting all of you, whether you're as famous as J.K. Rowling or just putting down your first serious words and looking for your own room to grow. Remember, you're not a tree. If the path upward seems blocked, move over and keep trying. That professional work ethic will carry you through.

Thanks again for taking part in the Countdown to RainbowCon, Kathleen!  You can find out more about Kathleen and her books on her website, Facebook Page and on Twitter.