Saturday, February 20, 2010

Shine A Light by KC Kendricks

contemporary gay
romance available at
Amber Allure

After being viciously outed by his spiteful ex-lover, Van MacKenzie, fallen Hollywood and Broadway star, lands on stage in a small town community theatre - and in the arms of set designer Shane Hollister. Van knows his attraction to the talented young man could seal the fate of his career, but he can’t resist having a ‘summer thing’ while performing at The Globe. When an act of violence catches them unaware, Van recognizes the message was really meant for him. Walking away from Shane might be the smart thing to do to keep him safe.

Shane Hollister had established himself as a Broadway set designer before his father’s accident forced him to move home to St. Charles. Needing work, Shane accepts a job at The Globe. To his surprise, the small operation equals any big city production. When Donovan “Van” MacKenzie signs on for the new show, Shane grabs the chance to have a summer fling with his big screen idol, refusing to allow Van’s past to intrude.

Shane knows he has only one chance to catch a fallen star, and keep him for his own.


When I stepped out of the men’s room, Shane waited for me.

His drawn, pale face, and the dark smudges under his eyes made me pause.

“You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell. I don’t know how to make things right with you if you won’t believe me.”

“I believe you, Shane. You said you didn’t know he was coming here. Well, okay. People surprise us. I know that. But he is here, and you are involved with him, and I can’t afford the distraction.”

That wasn’t what I wanted to say to him. It wasn’t even close. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him to send Doug packing. I needed him to prove to me he wasn’t planning to fuck me and any other guy at the same time. But one trick with him didn’t give me the right.

He nodded, his eyes sad. “I don’t know what else to say except I’m sorry, Van.”

The ice around my heart cracked. I managed a smile for him. “I’m sorry, too.”
Shane reached out and smoothed the lapel of my jacket, although it didn’t need it. This might be as close as I ever got to him again. God help me, but I couldn’t walk away without touching him one more time. I grasped his hips and pulled him, unresisting, to me.

His arms snaked up around my neck, holding me with his fierce, young strength. We pressed together, chest-to-chest and thigh-to-thigh. I breathed in his scent and kissed his hair, committing the feel of him to memory, then I gently pulled away.

“I’m flying back to the city tomorrow, and then driving my own car back on Tuesday. I’ll put the key under the mat and leave your car at the cabin since you have your keyless entry.”

His hands came to rest on my shoulders. “How are you getting to the airport?”

“I cut a deal with one of the boys who work at the resort. He’s agreed to be my go-fer when I need one, provided he’s off-shift.”

Shane accepted that, nodding, his gaze somewhere past me. I was poignantly reminded of his youth. Would he listen to my advice?

“Shane, if you have any doubts about Doug, do yourself and him a favor, and end it. I didn’t do that with Lynn and I paid a high price for it.”

“It’s not like that, man! I told you. I don’t sleep with him any more. That’s in the past. We’re just friends now.”

“Lot’s of things are in the past,” I told him as gently as I could. It was all over him that he wanted to argue with me, but his shoulders slumped, and his eyes had a vacant look to them. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to touch him again.

“Shane, what’s really wrong?”

“Nothing. You don’t want anything to do with me. Well, okay. I’ll get over it.” With that he turned and walked away, his long strides quickly putting a lot of distance between us.

I watched him go with a sinking feeling in my gut. I’d bungled that, and badly.

ISBN: 13-978-1-60272-648-2
Now available at

KC Kendricks
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Friday, February 19, 2010

Sneak Preview of My M/M Werewolf Tale, THE BLUE MOON CAFE

The Blue Moon Cafe will make its debut March 7! I'm really excited about this book for several reasons:

1. It's my first werewolf novel. For 20 years, I have been writing horror, or some variation thereof, but have yet to explore this territory.
2. It's a horror story combined with a romance. More and more, my stories are taking on a romantic edge. I think that The Blue Moon Cafe combines the paranormal and romance in a way that will satisfy readers of both genres.
3. It's my first full-length novel set in my relatively new hometown of Seattle. Seattle is a great location for a werewolf book, especially a gay's got a huge gay population, tremendous natural beauty, and is surrounded by mountains and forests. Hey, it's a perfect home for today's cosmopolitan werewolf.
4. It has a brilliant cover. Cover designer Trace Edward Zaber has done it again and come up with a face for my book that's not only beautiful, but compelling. Trace managed to encapsulate exactly what I wanted to get across: that this was a horror story, yes, but at its heart, it's a love story. It's a book that I hope will make a reader's heart race for many reasons.

The Blue Moon Café releases on March 7, 2010 in ebook format, with the paperback version to follow approximately two weeks later. To read the first chapter, e-mail me at and I will send it to you.

What The Blue Moon Cafe is about:

Someone—or something—is killing Seattle’s gay men.

A creature moves through the darkest night, lit only by the full moon, taking them, one by one, from the rain city’s gay gathering areas.

Someone—or something—is falling in love with Thad Matthews.

Against a backdrop of horror and fear, young Thad finds his first true love in the most unlikely of places—a new Italian restaurant called The Blue Moon Café. Sam is everything Thad has ever dreamed of in a man: compassionate, giving, handsome, and with brown eyes Thad feels he could sink into…and he can cook! But as the pair’s love begins to grow, so do the questions and uncertainties, the main one being: Why do Sam’s unexplained disappearances always coincide with the full moon?

Prepare yourself for a unique blend of horror and erotic romance with The Blue Moon Café, written by the author Unzipped magazine called, “the Stephen King of gay horror.” You’re guaranteed an unforgettable reading experience, one that skillfully blends the hottest romance with the most chilling terror…

Exclusive Excerpt
There are roads going nowhere. Huge ramps and posts holding them up that lead toward the sky, as if aliens had built them for take-off strips. They almost glow, grayish, in the shimmering light of the full moon. Surrounding them are trees, grasses, growing wild in a riot around a lily pad-flecked canal. The wind, cold this September night, rustles through the tree tops, making a sound like whispering and sending the weakest of the leaves, harbingers of fall, down to the ground.

It would be pitch and even though he has dark-adapted eyes, it would be difficult to see were it not for the moon tonight, which is glorious, a pale-faced imitator of the sun. Everything, here in the Washington Park Arboretum, is cloaked with a veil of silver. Night has become a kind of day, one that exists in black and white. The pale light and the ability to actually see along the path has brought out many wanderers in the woods. They—all of them men, all of them solitary—make restless circuits of the trails going through the woods and along the canal. They stop here and there, where a bent tree or a copse of bushes provide a kind of shelter, looking for another soul who will elevate them from their loneliness for a few minutes. Some have succeeded—condom wrappers and condoms themselves, used, litter the ground and some even hang from branches.

He also hunts…but not for the same thing. While they search for the warmth of sexual connection, hungry for the taste of cum, he looks for the coldness of destruction and the taste of blood. He lifts his snout to test the cool air and is rewarded with the smell of at least a dozen men, traversing the trails that cut through the woods of the park. He has slipped through the shadows, watching as the men exchange silent signals with one another, couple, then separate, to wander back to the parking lot. Some of them hurry, with their heads hung low, as if ashamed of what they have done. Others, shameless, walk jauntily back to their cars of their homes in the neighborhoods bordering the park, satisfied with their release.


The creature pads along a trail, waiting for one of the men to break free of the others, to follow a trail perhaps down to the canal’s edge, to separate from the pack. It is the ones who stay by themselves, perhaps the ones too fearful to actually do what they came here for, that he wants. Vulnerable. Alone.
He is quick and sure when he attacks. There will be no screams to alert the others. There won’t even be a scuffle. There will be only death and feasting, silent and sure, gliding in on one of these men, unsuspecting, like a shadow. The element of surprise has always been his trump and his calling card. His stealth and razor sharp fangs will ensure a quick demise, painless for only a second or two, until blood and flesh is rendered and offered up to him like a gift.

He revels in the anticipation of the kill. He will satisfy his own ferocious hunger, in his belly for certain, but also for the elusive taste of justice. These men deserve to have something bad happen to them. Look at them! In a public place, looking to sate their perverted desires, to connect with strangers in a way that should be reserved for private, for time alone with a creature one loves and bears some commitment to…

He is an old-fashioned monster. He feels no remorse for what he is about to do. In its own way, he knows that his hunting and killing is for the common good, eradicating those who foul the world with heedless desire and warped attractions.

He pads along a trail and hops jauntily along the wooden surface of a small bridge, making not a sound. Ahead, one has separated far enough from the pack that the beast thinks he may have a chance, especially if the man is foolish enough to duck into a cluster of foliage which will shields dark couplings from passersby as close as a few feet away. He knows his al fresco meal will be over within seconds. It’s not the length of the meal that defines its quality.

From a few feet away, he pants, licking his chops, and watches the man. He is tall, clad in a pair of tight fitting jeans, boots, and a dark T-shirt, much too lightweight for this chilly night, but perfect for showing off biceps that have been pumped unnaturally large and a chest that spans super-hero width. The monster is certain that such physical dimensions make the man a desirable candidate, a kind of trophy or reward. But his bulging muscles and cocky walk are all for show; he knows there is no strength to back them up. He will be just as easy to bring down as all the rest. And like all the rest, he will not even make a sound.

He will go for the neck first.

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Monday, February 15, 2010


The new BLOCKBUSTERS Pax to be released by Amber Quill/Amber Allure on February 14, 2010, will include:

THE BAD & THE BEAUTIFUL gay/nostalgic by Jamie Craig
BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY’S gay/contemporary by Lynn Lorenz
INDEPENDENCE DAY gay/contemporary by Christiane France
THUNDERBALL gay/fantasy/werewolf by Mimi Riser
TWILIGHT gay/fantasy/shapeshifter by Carolina Valdez


Independence Day by Christiane France ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-645-1 (Electronic) FEBRUARY 14, 2010!
The perfect plan for success, or a guaranteed recipe for disaster?
It sounded like such a simple, mutually beneficial arrangement when the idea was hatched over drinks in a bar late one night. A little short-term pain for long-term gain, or so Nick’s ambitious boyfriend, Al, believed. If Nick would take a back seat while Al played the doting husband to Missy, daughter of the town’s leading lawyer for a couple of months, Al’s lifelong dream of a partnership with Hilldale & Partners would finally be achieved. In return, Missy would be out from under her daddy’s thumb, free to follow her own alternative lifestyle. And then, after a short interval, Nick and Al could pick up where they left off, and everyone would live happily ever after.
As far as spur-of-the-moment plans went, this one sounded perfect.
What could possibly go wrong?
NOTE: Don't miss the sequel, Independence Day II, available April 2010!
...Al sat down on the blue velvet sofa and patted the spot next to him. “How about we start off with an explanation?”
Even though he’d been expecting it, Al’s belief he was owed anything, especially an explanation, made Nick bristle like a wary dog. Al wasn’t his mother, his boss, or anyone else to whom he was obliged to account for his actions. Al was just the asshole he loved. A man who could drive the most patient, laid-back person crazy given even half a chance. And Nick had given him chance after chance after chance. Now it was happening all over again.
Taking a deep breath in an effort to relax, Nick reached for a can of beer, popped the tab and took a sip. “What’s to explain? Why Vegas has such hot summers? Or why I don’t have a car and insisted we should walk over here instead of taking a cab?”
Al shot Nick a long-suffering look. “No, babe, but I love you, and you say you still love me. In case you’ve forgotten, we were supposed to be spending the rest of our lives together. What happened to all that? Did you change your mind or what? It might be nice if you told me why you just up and vanished without a word because, frankly, I don’t have the first clue.”
Nick drank a little more beer and put the can down on the table. “You honestly don’t know?”
“I figured you’d found someone else and I was toast. What else was I to think when you disappeared like a thief in the night?”
“After all the warnings I gave you, you should’ve expected it.”
“What warnings? I don’t recall you saying a thing.”
“I did. Every time you broke a date or a promise, or decided you’d rather dance the night away with all your new friends than spend time with me. I told you I was sick and tired of all the excuses, and that one of these days when you called, I wouldn’t be there. You don’t remember?”
Al sighed and squeezed Nick’s hand. “True, you did. But you always got over it so…”
“So you figured I was just mouthing off?”
“Something like that, I guess. To be honest, I had so much going on trying to make partner, I thought you’d got fed up and found someone else.” Al opened the jar of cheese dip and checked the contents. “Is this stuff fresh?”
“Should be. I only bought it yesterday.”
“In that case…” Al scooped up some of the mixture with a tortilla chip and put it in his mouth. “Did you find someone else?”
“No. Not then and not now.”
“But I bet there could be. In fact, I’m sure that boss of yours would be down on his knees in a flash if you gave him the slightest bit of encouragement.”
Nick felt his face redden with embarrassment at the mind picture Al painted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Trip isn’t gay. He’s a widower with a young son. We’re casual friends and nothing more.”
Al gave Nick a narrow-eyed look. “You quite sure about that?”
“Sure about what?”
“All of it. Widower with a young son makes for perfect cover if you’re trying to present a nice family-man public image.”
Nick took another sip of beer, wondering if, just for once, he should let his temper rip and tell Al to take his insecurities and fuck off home to his wife, his precious job and his socially important lifestyle. “Trip doesn’t deal with the public. He’s director of personnel for the hotel’s food and beverage division. In other words, he works strictly behind the scenes.”
Al reached in the bag for another chip. “If there was no one else, why did you really leave?”
“Because…” Nick sighed. He’d rehearsed what he wanted to say a thousand times. He’d even thought about writing Al a long letter spelling it all out in infinite detail—how he was sick of being what amounted to an afterthought, to constantly taking a back seat. Except he’d realized there was no point...