If you saw my recent guest blog over at Carolyn Rosewood’s (and if you didn’t, click here to read it) you won’t be surprised that when I asked Tara Lain to come back and visit she used the opportunity to redress the balance. It’s a great post, I like a debate – enjoy it!
Writing Gay Romance in a Woman’s Body
Special thanks to Tris for inviting me back to the blog. I love visiting in Great Britain! As you may know, Tris has been a guest on my blog and my readers love his visits. He sometimes talks about the experience of a man writing gay romance. Today, I want to turn the tables a little.
Yes, I confess, I am a het female. But then the average reader of M/M romance in the world is a woman between 30 and 60. Isn’t that interesting? Scientists tell us that while men are mostly turned-on by images and ideas related to their orientation (heterosexual men like M/F images and homosexual men like M/M images) that women respond to the entire spectrum of stimulation — M/F, M/M, F/F and all combinations thereof regardless of whether they are hetero or homosexual. No one knows why exactly, but those are the facts. Women tell me all the time that they were amazed when they found out that they were excited by gay romance. But there are chat rooms full of thousands of women who want to talk about gay romances and I’m going to the GayRomLit Retreat in New Orleans in a week and the majority of the attendees will be female.
The reasons women love gay romance is not just physiological. There are emotional and sociological issues as well. Women, no matter what age, have experienced a lot of gender roles and stereotyping and these often carry over into het romances. In M/M romance, these gender roles are gone and a reader or writer can experience the fluidity of a relationship in which no clear-cut interaction exists. In a M/F romance, a woman reader (or writer) is almost forced to identify with the female character. When reading or writing
M/M, she can relate to either or both (or in my case any of) the heroes. When we read romance we get to be vampires and werewolves. I think being the opposite sex is even more fun.
Obviously, I would never presume to write serious gay fiction. But romance is fantasy. I have made love to a man and know the touch, taste and smell. I can imagine what an idealized happy-ever-after love is like between two men as well as I can between a man and a woman. In fact, because I don’t have the limitations of “real life” to hem me in, I can
imagine a very grand love between two men — or three. Most women readers try out their first turn in M/M romance with a female author. I did, reading the wonderful Jet Mykles and Z A Maxfield and Lynn Lorenz. Then I tried my hand at some Josh Lanyon and Ethan Day and Tristram LaRoche. I find well-written gay romance to be virtually indistinguishable between male and female writers. Just as emotional, just as sexy. What do you think?
Now, I’d love for you to WIN a copy of my new release, Golden Dancer, a M/M/M romantic suspense. Just leave a comment here and you’ll be entered in the drawing on October 8 to win Golden Dancer or Volley Balls, my M/M/M summer romance. If you go to my Book Blog and leave a comment, you’ll be entered to win in two drawings. Plus, you can post comments at other blogs to earn additional entries. It’s all explained
here http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com Leave a comment here. : )
Golden Dancer by Tara Lain
Excerpt R: Golden Dancer by Tara Lain, M/M/M Romantic Suspense
Published Sept 27 by Loose Id
A reporter and the thief he’s investigating fall for a golden dancer forging a ménage of love and lies that could send one to prison and one to the morgue. Uncovering secrets requires baring more than just the soul.
The big man led him through the crowd with a strong hand. Trelain glanced back to see Allison’s face looking both confused and concerned. She clearly didn’t want to lose control of her donor-bait, but lose control she had. Daniel seemed to be quite certain where he was leading them.
When they reached the other end of the big open space, Trelain pulled back. The guy was much bigger, but Trelain was strong. “Hold up. Where do you think we’re going?”
The man turned and gave Trelain that wolfish grin again. Close up, he really was lovely with those deep, dark eyes, and dark curving brows contrasted with the shock of silver
hair. “I thought I’d rescue you.”
Trelain smiled. “And I thought I was getting champagne.”
The man stared at him for a moment then looked up and waggled a finger seemingly into space. Moments later, a waiter appeared out of the crowd carrying a tray packed with bubbly. The man grinned. “Would you like it all?”
Trelain smiled back. Daniel seemed a man who got what he wanted. But then, so was Trelain. He selected a full glass from the tray. “One should be sufficient.”
The man took another one, though he didn’t seem to drink it. “But more is better.”
The waiter left, and Trelain took a sip. “Your philosophy of life, I presume?”
“So who are you, Daniel?” Trelain noticed that people milled all around them, but no one
“A child of the universe. A lover of art in its myriad forms. A surfer and diver. Oh, yes, and
I dabble in computer software sometimes.”
Trelain glanced at him sideways. “Dabble? Like Bill Gates?”
The guy gave a huge smile. “Yes, precisely like that.”
No doubt richer than Croesus, based on the deference everyone seemed to show him. “So, what exactly does ‘rescuing me’ look like?”
“If you’ll let me, I’ll take you to my home in Laguna Beach. Sun, surf, relaxation.”
“Are you propositioning me?”
The man leaned down so his lips were close to Trelain’s ear. His breath smelled like peppermint. “I am propositioning you at every level, cavalier. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen on two feet, and I want you near me. Preferably under me
for hours at a time.”
Bloody hell. Trelain smoothed a hand down his arm to try and control the goose bumps. The man chuckled. “I think that sounds good to you.”
A little distance was required. Trelain stepped back. “You are more than persuasive, uh, Daniel, but you also impress me as a man who is used to getting what he wants. Perhaps I
don’t enjoy being one of a multitude.” Yes, he was being flirtatious, but it was also true. Maybe part of the appeal of the reporter had been that he wasn’t usually attracted to men. Trelain liked being special. Hell, who didn’t?
Daniel very discreetly ran his fingers up Trelain’s arm. Good. He wasn’t trying to make a show of possession. “It’s true, my friend, that I have had many brief encounters in my
past. I don’t think you know anything about me; why would you? But others will delight in telling you of my peccadilloes, so I might as well come clean. That was the past, however. I have not been in a relationship of any kind for many months. I am weary of the game. I want someone special in my life, and you, my friend, are very special.”
Trelain smiled. His thoughts had been answered. He opened his mouth to speak, but Terrebone put up a hand. “One more thing. I won’t rush you or crowd you. I would love to have you come to my home as a guest with no strings attached.”
Trelain cleared his throat. “I am dancing three nights this week, and I believe Laguna Beach is some distance from here.”
“About an hour. But you are free on Thursday, I believe?”
“Why don’t you pack your bathing suit” — he gave that charming, lecherous grin — “or not, and I’ll send a car for you after your performance. I’ll have a massage therapist
standing by, my chef will prepare all your favorite foods, and you can have a quiet vacation for a few days.”
Suddenly, Trelain was too tired for banter. A vacation sounded like heaven, and if it was with this beautiful man, all the better. He might have a thing for that silly reporter,
but it was a stupid, fruitless crush. This man was handsome, rich, and seemed sincere. And he knew he was gay. A huge improvement. “I would love to come.”
Daniel looked surprised, then delighted. “You are a world of surprises, cavalier. I like that
in a man.”
Trelain sipped the last of his champagne and glanced at the still-milling crowd of patrons. He sighed. “And now I must continue my role as money-grubber-in-chief.” He bowed
slightly. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Oh, one more thing. Please give this to Allison.” Terrebone handed him a scrap of paper. It said IOU $1,000,000.
“Not enough? I just wanted Allison to know I hadn’t been wasting your precious time.”
Trelain carefully folded the paper. He laughed all the way back to the group of donors
surrounding the anxious program director.
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