NEW RELEASE How I Met My Man

For one week only, Amber Allure is offering my latest release, How I Met My Man, at a 35% discount (that's only $3.25). The ebook is available in all popular formats, including Kindle-ready (Mobi/prc). Get your copy of How I Met My Man here.

This story blends my passion for marrying dark suspense with romance...

How I Met My Man
ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-070-2
Genres: Gay / Contemporary / Suspense / Thriller
Heat Level: 2
Length: Novella (18k words)
New Release 35% Discount (One Week Only)

BLURB
 How a guy meets his man can happen in a dozen different ways: online, at a bar, through friends, at a masquerade party...or even at the scene of a murder...

The road to love is seldom straight, and for Stephen Embert, that road couldn't possibly be more crooked. First, he arrives home to find an anonymous card in his mailbox that says, "I've been inside your house," then comes the midnight home invasion. But Stephen forgets these disturbing occurrences a month later when he attends a masquerade party and hopes to finally meet Mr. Right.

But who is the stranger in black with the disturbing emotionless mask following him? And why does the stranger always get in the way of Stephen hooking up with Jeffrey, the angelic and nearly naked leather hunk, who wants nothing more than to get Stephen alone for some romance? Appearances are not always what they seem, and discovering true love can sometimes be a matter of life and death.

EXCERPT
...The sexual tension in the room was palpable. In one corner, a pair of guys was making out, staying just shy of actual penetration, but their mouths were locked onto each other like they were ready to eat other’s faces. Their bodies, clothed in little more than denim and latex, were grinding into one another as if they were desperate to merge into one human being. I saw many flirtatious glances that I knew, before the night was over, could erupt into something akin to the guys in the corner, or maybe even full-on sex. Remember, Tabby had a scrupulously maintained playroom and, at some point, most of the revelers would wander into it.

I also saw a lot of guys simply having a good time, blowing off steam, dancing, talking to each other, laughing. Tabby had set up Night of the Living Dead to play on his huge plasma screen and several guys watched it absent-mindedly. Even I thought it was interesting how the film and the techno music went together in an eerie way.

I was sort of drifting off into my own little world, mesmerized by the zombies on the screen, when my easy buzz got interrupted. No, it got crushed, slammed to the floor, stomped into little pieces.

All because a new guest had joined the party.

You know that bartender? The one that I thought was just about the most gorgeous hunk of masculinity upon which I had ever laid eyes? Forget him. This new guy made him looked like someone on a par with, I don’t know, Andy Dick, maybe?

When I saw him come into the party and remove his coat, I truly think my adrenalin surged. I felt faint. And let me tell you, honey, I thought that feeling faint at the sight of a hunky man was the exclusive device of writers of bad romances.

But it really did happen. It happened to me.

Apparently, it happened to several other people—maybe most of them—at the party as well. A hush fell over the party and a multitude of heads tried to discreetly swivel toward the newcomer. It almost seemed like an invisible hand turned down the volume on the music, too.

He was glorious. Perfect. An unrivaled specimen of masculinity almost too beautiful to live. He stood about six two and his body was lean, tightly defined, and covered with satiny olive flesh that begged to be touched, if only you could find yourself worthy. His muscles spoke of quiet strength; they were there, visible, but had none of the pumped-up overkill of a gym rat who spent far too much time working on his body (and perhaps far too much money on steroids). He had a thick shock of black hair sticking up from the top of his head, while the sides and back of his head were shaved close. A silver hoop dangled from one ear. Surveying the party, he revealed eyes so dark the pupils were lost within the irises. I felt as though if I were to tumble into those eyes, I could die happy. His lashes—the only feminine thing about him—were long and thick. His lips full and kissable. His face was chiseled, with a very fetching cleft in the middle of his chin. That touchable skin? It was almost hairless, save for thick, coarse dark hair on his forearms and calves.

And, of course, there was a lovely treasure trail leading down, across his flat stomach, and into the black leather briefs he wore as part of his costume.

His costume was simple and inspired. He wore three things: the black leather bikini briefs, a pair of combat boots, and a plain leather harness to the back of which were attached two small wings—jet black and crafted from feathers.

He looked like an angel—but one that would quickly lead you to Hell. You would not protest.

My heart beat a little faster...

Get your copy of How I Met My Man here.

New Cover for HOMECOMING, Coming in March from Dreamspinner Press

One of the most exciting things about this business is when you get to see, for the first time, the cover of one of your own works of fiction. You've put your "baby" in the hands of an artist/graphic designer and entrusted him or her to put the most compelling and marketable "face" on your story.

Artist Paul Richmond pleased me beyond measure with the cover for Homecoming (releases March 17, Dreamspinner Press). His depiction of the two main characters and the Chicago el platform setting perfectly conveny the theme and mood of the story without giving too much away.

I hope you like the cover as much as I do. Give me some feedback below, if you'd like.

Here's a little taste of what Homecoming is about:
After losing his partner Toby, Chase faces a long, painful road back to life and love. At first, he doesn’t see how he can go on, but then Chase and Toby’s old friend Mike cajoles him into returning to Chicago for the annual International Mr. Leather Competition. There Chase revisits a world of hot, casual sex that he had forgotten existed, meets a friend who cares more for him than he ever realized, and discovers the possibility that he might yet find his way home.

The Blue Moon Cafe Wins for Best Paranormal in 2010 Rainbow Awards for Excellence

I'm pleased to announce that my werewolf thriller, The Blue Moon Cafe, has taken first place in the paranormal category in the 2010 Rainbow Awards for Excellence.

Here's the full list of categories and winners.

Here's 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 Cafe. 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 Sam 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 dark suspense and erotic romance with The Blue Moon Cafe, 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...

And here's a little taste:
Sam and Thad lay on their backs, breathless. Thad spoke first, but only after several minutes had passed, long enough for him to process what had just happened and to allow his respiration to return to a somewhat normal pace. “That was amazing. I’m no Mary Poppins, but I can honestly say I don’t know when it’s been that good for me.” Thad let out a long, quivering breath. “You’re right; you are an animal.”

Sam laughed and the sound was comforting, here in the pale, silvery light from a waning moon outside. Thad snuggled into the crook between Sam’s chest and arm, resting his head on the fur that blanketed Sam’s chest. This, he thought, surprising himself, is just about as good as the sex.

“I just go with my instincts.” Sam stroked Thad’s hair gently. “If that makes me an animal, then I’m guilty as charged.” He moved slightly away from Thad. “Don’t kill me, but do you mind if I have a cigarette? I can go outside if you want.”

Thad shook his head, grinning. “A smoke after sex. That’s so cliché. But go ahead. Normally, I wouldn’t allow it, but I’ll make an exception for you…Sam.” Thad liked how the name felt on his tongue.

“Grazie.” Sam turned to sit up and grope in his pants pocket, bringing out a pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter. He leaned back against the headboard and lit up. The room filled with the acrid stench of burning tobacco and paper and instead of being repelled as he normally would be, Thad moved close to Sam again, taking up his newly claimed spot on the man’s chest. He stared up at him, watching him smoke. Lazily, he traced circles in the hairy mat covering Sam’s chest. His fingers stopped when he caught sight of a design on Sam’s left pectoral, something he had hadn’t noticed in the dim light or perhaps because it was all but hidden by the forest of hair. Thad got up on one elbow.

“You have a tattoo?”

In the dark, Sam nodded. “I’ve had it for years, way before tattoos were all the rage like they are these days.”

“Especially here in Seattle.” Thad often wondered if there was some requirement that all citizens of Seattle must have at least one tattoo. “What’s it of?” Thad strained to make out the design’s contours in the dim light and couldn’t.

Sam leaned forward to switch on the bedside lamp. Thad squinted at the sudden light source, then directed his gaze down at the muscled chest before him. “What is it?” Thad traced the design with his fingers, lowering his head to peer more closely at it. He nipped at Sam’s nipple and Sam laughed.

“It’s Lupa, the she-wolf who suckled Romulus and Remus, the twins who founded Rome in mythology. Cool, no?” Sam flexed his chest so the wolf seemed to move. Two cherubic twin boys below the figure suckled at her teats.

“It’s kind of weird. But it suits you.” Thad reached over Sam to turn off the light again. “What brought you to America?”

Did Thad detect a slight stiffening when he asked the question?...

And here's where you can get a copy (either paperback or digital).

NEW RELEASE Speed Demon

Today my twisted little short, Speed Demon, releases from Amber Allure (the GLBT imprint of Amber Quill Press). This is opposed to my twisted little shorts, which I will be washing out in the sink this afternoon, but I digress.

For one week only, if you purchase Speed Demon direct from Amber Allure, you can get it at their 35% off new release discount, and can take it home for the very tidy price of just $1.95 (and yes, Kindle owners, this applies to you as well--just choose the .prc version and it will work perfectly on your Kindle; it will be available soon in the Kindle store, but probably not at this price).

Here's what Speed Demon is about:
Jealousy can be such an ugly emotion, but can it drive one to kill?

Jake is in love with Cayce, an older, best-selling author who thinks of him only as a friend. Cayce is enthralled—as is everyone else—with Garland, a gorgeous waif of a boy, famous for his eccentric clothes and an unparalleled desire to be at the center of attention. Constantly.

Jake’s discovery of something as mundane as a few over-the-counter sleeping pills pulls Speed Demon into a story of thwarted love, of a twisted triangle, and just maybe, a tale of crime and revenge from beyond the grave...

And here's a little taste of what you're in for:
...Jake never intended to kill the boy.

I know because he told me. Murder was never on his mind—never had been. What reason would he have to lie?

After all, even if it wasn't his intention, he did kill Garland. Nothing can change that.

Death doesn’t really concern itself with details like intention, you know? Regardless of whether one means to end a life or not, when someone ends up dead, it’s truly the end of the road, which is a fitting pun if you read on.

Now, if he had intended to kill this lost boy… Well, then, the murder would have been a thing of beauty—perfect in its execution, freeing the murderer from even the slightest suspicion. The kid’s death looked to everyone like an accident and, I suppose, in its own freakish way, it was.

Because, as I said, he never intended to kill him. It was the accident of poor judgment, fueled by jealousy, which caused the other accident that would end the boy’s life.

Oh, this is getting confusing! I’m sure, dear reader, that if you have the patience—and the courage—to read on, you’ll discover how even accidents can be malicious, and death, sometimes, unavoidable.

The fact that the boy’s death was over me is flattering, even if I am sorry it happened. But, as I've been known to say, on many occasions, “It's all about me, me, me.”

And this story is no exception...

BUY Speed Demon (for only $1.95--this week only!).

Two Wonderful Reviews: TRICKS and OUT ON THE NET

When it rains, it pours. As a resident of Seattle, I know what I'm talking about. However, I digress. I woke up today to not one, but two, wonderful reviews of my two latest works.

Doug Starr at Dark Diva Reviews gave my coming-out novella Out on the Net, five stars and named it a recommended read. Doug said:

"...one of the most clever stories I have read in quite some time...At once poignant and humorous...a story which pulls at the heart strings, transcends sexuality  and gender, and resonates within the hearts of anyone who has  discovered something about themselves later in life..."

Read the whole Dark Divas review here.

And George Seaton, at Out in Print Queer Book Reviews, had this to say about my stripper-bar set love story, Tricks:

"This is a love story. This is a story that explores the darkest depths of mendacity and greed that feed off the dreams of a young man yearning for a break against the hard knocks life has handed him. This is a story of two men from disparate realms of experience who, in the end, find their saving graces in the simple gift of love, of caring perhaps more for the other than they do for themselves."

Read the whole Out in Print review here.

My gratitude to the publications and reviewers, George Seaton and Doug Starr. You both made my day!

Buy Out on the Net.

Buy Tricks.

The Blue Moon Cafe Gets Honorable Mention in the Rainbow Awards

Congratulations  to all the winners and honorable mentions in Elisa Rolle’s 2010 LGBT  Rainbow Awards. The contest is held annually by Italian reviewer Elisa Rolle to recognize outstanding achievement in GLBT romance.

One of the things that sets the Rainbow Awards apart is that there are no entry  fees. No one is paid for judging. It's simply about making note of the best stories this year.

I'm proud to say that my werewolf book, The Blue Moon Cafe, was given an honorable mention in the Paranormal/Horror Category.

Find the full list here. 

So I Wrote a Romance Called TRICKS

My latest novel is now available. Read to the end to find out how you can win your own free, signed copy of Tricks, delivered right to your door personally...by me...in a leather jock strap. Well, that last part isn't true, but I do ship first class.

This book is different.

Yes, boys and girls, this is my first full-length gay romance, an endearing little opposites-attract tale about a male stripper in a sleazy gay bar in Chicago's Boystown and the nerd who falls for him. Those of you in Chicago might recognize the bar that inspired me.

"What are you? Getting soft? A love story...really?" You might be wondering. Well, Tricks does have my own distinctive and dark touches, so I hope you'll give the book a chance and see how I make a gay love story wholly my own.

Here's the synopsis from the back cover:
Tricks can mean many things: sex partners, deceptions, even magic. In Rick R. Reed searing love story, it means all three.

Arliss is a gorgeous young dancer at Tricks, the hottest club in Chicago's Boystown. Sean is the classic nerd, out of place in Tricks, but nursing his wounds from a recent break-up. When the two spy each other, magic blooms.

But this opposites-attract tale does not run smooth. What happens when Arliss is approached by one of the biggest porn producers in the business? Can he make his dreams of stardom come true without throwing away the only real love he's ever known? And will this question even matter if the mysterious producers realize their dark intentions?

And here's a little taste:
Arliss had everything he needed right in front of him for that night's performance-hardhat, check, steel-toed boots, check, tool belt, check, black mesh thong with pouch for his rather prodigious endowment, big check. Yes, Arliss was just about ready for his turn on the stage at Tricks, located in Chicago's infamous Boystown neighborhood, at its epicenter on the corner of Belmont and Halsted. He also had before him a tall tumbler of Stoli vodka with just a whisper of cranberry juice cocktail in it for color, and a half-empty pack of Marlboro Ultralights. The latter two items helped the twenty-one-year-old calm himself before a performance, and the vodka in particular went a long way toward reducing backstage jitters.

He lit up a cigarette and regarded himself through the smoke. The lights in the crowded dressing room, which he shared with the other eight or so exotic dancers, were unforgiving. Fluorescent did little to hide any imperfections like rings under the eyes, reddened noses from too much partying, and, for those on their way out of the club, track marks on the arms. But Arliss didn't have to worry about signs of drug abuse showing up on his person. He had learned to just say no a long time ago, in a manner that he preferred not to dredge up, at least not now, when he was trying to put himself in a cheerful, high-energy mode.

The face that looked back at him was young, handsome, and vital. Arliss had a shock of white blond hair that stuck up in a manner reminiscent of rocker Billy Idol back in his glory days, before Arliss was even born. Both ears sported piercings-from one a single razor blade, cast in sterling, dangled; from the other, three hoops crawled up the side of his ear, growing smaller as they ascended. Arliss had full lips, sharp cheekbones, a cleft in his chin, and the most piercing ice blue eyes in the Midwest (or so he had been told). The only thing that marred his nearly perfect face was a gap between his front teeth, which he comforted himself by saying that the space gave him character. Cigarette clenched between his teeth, he struggled into his costume, ending by stuffing his dick into the pouch that protruded from his black thong. His member stuck out in such a way that invited grasping hands, which is what Arliss wanted, as long as there was cash in those hands to stuff the thong even more fully.

Attired in a costume that would make the construction worker from the Village People look demure, Arliss turned in front of the mirror to ensure he was the perfect fantasy specimen of pornographic machismo. He was grateful he had added the angel wing tattoo to his back and the snakes that twisted around each bicep. And the one on his chest, the tiny heart with the name "Helena" in it, always brought a lump to his throat-or a splash of bile to the back of it, depending on his mood and how forgiving he felt.

But now was not the time for being sentimental! Arliss was glad for the tattoos because they added a bit of manliness to his six-foot-two inch frame that held only 160 pounds in weight. He was what the older men at Tricks referred to as a twink and, thankfully, was a desirable commodity in some circles.
He set the cigarette down in a tin ashtray and took a swig of vodka. He could feel as much as hear the heavy bass of the techno music playing in the bar and knew that Antonio, a Puerto Rican dude with a shaved head and heavy stubble, was probably just about finished with his set, which meant his boxing ensemble cluttered the small stage.

Arliss would come out, dance briefly and flirtatiously with Antonio, and then have the stage to himself. He didn't know how he did it, night after night, but somehow he managed. He had always been the shyest boy in Ruskin, Florida, where he had grown up. If they could see me now... Well, if they could see me now, they'd probably still call me a fag and try to beat the crap out of me. Once again, my dear, now is not the time for sentimentality. He took another swig of vodka, draining the glass and feeling the warmth of the liquor as it spread through his chest and extremities. Show time!

Arliss hurried to the door that separated the cramped dressing room from the bar proper. Tricks didn't really have a stage, although the dancers liked to think of the bar upon which they danced as one. It was Friday night and, from the burble of conversation beneath the pounding beat, sounded as though they had a good crowd. He sucked in a breath, looked down at his perfectly smooth pale skin and six-pack abs and told himself he was gorgeous.

"Don't forget to smile, Toots! You always look like some gloomy Gus out there!" Leave it to Emmett Myers, owner of Tricks and Arliss' boss, to try and unsettle him just before he went on stage.

Arliss flashed the man a big, Farrah Fawcett smile. If the prissy older man with the pencil moustache recognized it as fake, he gave no indication.

"There! That's what they like to see! For heaven's sakes, you have to remember that if they think you're having a good time, they'll have a good time. And a good time means more money for all of us."

Arliss listened as the song wound down, morphing into yet another bass beat that signaled him it was time to stride out through the door, amble across the crowded room, ignore the covert feels and pinches he got as he made his way to the bar, and climb up on it to join Antonio in front of the crowd.

This moment, just before he went out, was always almost surreal. He felt as though he became someone else when he opened that door, or more properly, that his everyday world changed when he opened it. It was kind of like when Dorothy opened the door when she touched down in Oz and saw the color-filled Munchkinland, but instead of munchkins, his world was populated with bitter old queens, alcoholics, and trolls trying to put some oomph into their libidos by staring at boys young enough to be their sons.

"Get out there, gorgeous! Shake your groove thing!" Emmett cackled and placed a hand on Arliss' back to propel him forward. Just as much to get the hand off his back as to get to the stage, Arliss threw open the door, plastered on a big smile, threw his shoulders back and strode through the crowd, keeping his eye on the narrow strip of bar that would, for the next fifteen minutes, be his stage.


And yes, here is how you can win a copy in three easy steps:
1. Leave a comment, along with an e-mail address so I can get in touch with you if you win.
2. Help me spread the word about Tricks. Retweet or post news of Tricks and today's blog on your Twitter or Facebook account or just drop your reader friends an e-mail about it. This part is honor system but I will be spot checking.
3. Subscribe to this blog, using the link on the right.

Note: To enter the contest, you must do so at my official blog at http://rickrreedreality.blogspot.com/
Do not enter on Amazon, Goodreads, or Facebook.

I will announce the winner on Sunday morning.

Don't want to wait? Click on Tricks anywhere in this blog and it will take you to the publisher's website, where you can buy an e-copy direct from them or be linked to Amazon to purchase the paperback. Or buy a Kindle version here.