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Hello everyone! I’m welcoming back the fabulous and funny Lillian Grant, here to answer the question:

Hero or Heroine?

I’ve been asked this a few times, and the answer always surprises me, but nine out of ten times when I get a story idea it’s the hero who leads the way. For some reason I find it so much easier to be inside a man’s head than a woman’s. Maybe it’s because I’m not a girly girl. When I get upset I don’t run to the fridge to find a tub of Ben & Jerry’s or slip a sad movie into the DVD player. Instead, I usually get really mad until I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t punch something. I don’t punch things though. I run off my bad moods instead. Truth be told, I can’t punch things. When you’re less than five feet tall you have to pick your opponents carefully, even cushions can fight back.

Michael Monaghan has been a constant thorn in my side ever since I wrote Male Order, Reigning Men Volume 1. He was never the hero. He was the anti-hero. He was the man who flirted and hit on my heroine Maggie and drove my hero Sam nuts. And he was one of the cast members that helped set the scene for the octogenarian, nymphomaniac Great-Aunt Maud to play the sexual clown. Despite never once getting into his point of view I knew Michael better than any other character I’ve ever written. The tall, dark, Irish stripper is a magnet for the opposite sex. Always ready with an inappropriate comment or a funny line, happy to wait his turn. Or he was until after I finished Male Review, Reigning Men Volume 2.

Suddenly he wanted his moment in the sun and his happy ever after. However, he wanted me to show the world what made him the man he is today and helped win the heart of the lady he loved. I thought the story would be too long and the way he wanted to tell it would have me treading a relationship path I had never trod before, so I resisted. However, the day I heard Gary Moore’s Parisienne Walkways on my CD player, and Michael did the full Monty in my imagination, I knew he had finally worn me down. Hot Male would bring his story to life, if only so the rest of the female population can share the vision he gave me.

 

 

One man. One sensual dance. One night only to prove his love.

Michael wants Maggie. Maggie has Sam. Two’s company, three’s a crowd.

Years ago, Maggie tried to seduce Michael Monaghan, only to have her efforts rebuffed. Now she’s older, wiser, happily in love with Sam Stephens, and determined to keep her distance from Michael.

Michael Monaghan, hot male stripper, has all manner of women falling at his feet, except Maggie.  All he can do is watch from afar as Sam Stephens wins the heart of the one woman he really wants.

Sam Stephens is just tired of Michael watching Maggie’s every move.

Now there’s trouble with a capital T! Maggie’s Great-Aunt Maud has run off to Ireland with Michael’s Uncle Declan. Maggie needs to get to Aunt Maud and talk some sense into her before Declan’s gun-totting wife catches up with them. With Michael and Maggie off to Ireland together, Sam isn’t about to be left behind.

Tracking down the runaway lovers is complicated by the coldest winter in Dublin in years. With Michael, Maggie and Sam stuck in a house with only one bedroom, simmering sexual tension starts to boil over.

Michael wants Maggie. Maggie isn’t sure what she wants. Sam just wants to punch Michael in the nose.

Two’s company; three could be something else altogether.

 

Excerpt:

 

Prologue

Shannon scowled at the glasses with the stupid colored umbrellas as Pete placed them on her tray. Thursday was her night off. They never opened on Thursdays. She had plans to visit a club in one of London’s less seedy areas, and she was an exotic dancer not a fucking waitress.

Pete put the last drink down. “Table eight.”

“It won’t work.”

He leaned on the bar and leered at her boobs before running a finger along the edge of her skimpy bikini top, teasing the edge of a barely covered nipple. “We’ll see.”

She shifted out of reach. Pete disgusted her, and the more she resisted the more he seemed to want her. Not that it stopped him trying to whore her out to customers. She didn’t do sex for money, and she didn’t do sex with Pete, period. Fortunately, she pulled a big enough crowd that he wouldn’t dare get rid of her for refusing his gross seduction techniques. “Women won’t pay to see men take off their clothes.”

Pete glanced over her shoulder. “You want to tell them that?”

“You let them in for fucking free.”

“They’re paying for drinks, aren’t they? Or they would be if you’d fucking deliver them. Chop, chop. The show’s about to start.”

“I bet you’ve got some ugly old bloke with shriveled bollocks who won’t even flop his sad dick out.”

Pete laughed. “You’ll see. Now move it.”

Shannon delivered the drinks with a forced smile on her face, and then scooted to the back of the room to join Lisa who was already slacking off. The brunette passed Shannon a cigarette and lit it for her before blowing smoke rings. Shannon inhaled deeply and sighed as the nicotine hit her bloodstream. “Have you seen the hired naked dick?”

Lisa shook her head. “Nope, Pete’s had him under wraps. Rumor I heard was that he’s foreign and he’s never taken his clothes off in front of an audience before.”

Shannon giggled. “Oh God, this could be a right laugh if he gets stage fright. His dick’ll shrivel up. We’ll need a magnifying glass to find it.”

Pete came to stand behind them, and Shannonedged away as his fingers brushed her arse. The lights dimmed and the room was plunged into darkness. A hush fell over the crowd and then a deep guitar wail filled the air. A single spotlight hit the stage. Shannon’s stripper pole had been transformed into a lamppost. As the strains of Gary Moore’s Parisienne Walkways mesmerized the crowd a barefoot male stepped into the light, resplendent in top hat and tails, with a cane and gloves completing his ensemble. He lifted his head to reveal shoulder-length dark hair, chiseled features and full lips. He gave off an air of sexy disinterest at being the center of attention. His dark eyes scanned the crowd as he tossed the cane to someone offstage and then grabbed the lamppost with one hand and spun around in a twirl so low his hair almost brushed the timber floor.

Women yelled and whistled as he danced in front of the pole and began to remove his clothes. His hips moved in time with the music and the lamppost all but became his lover as his gloves, jacket, shirt and pants were tossed aside. He slid his hands over his body. Shannon’s skin warmed and her nipples pebbled as she imagined him touching her like that.

Standing in only a top hat and G-string, he moved to the music with a grace that made Shannon catch her breath. He was six-feet tall, studly and bad boy fucking awesome. When the guitar wailed on a single note the stripper stopped, dropped his head, and held his hat in front of his crotch. The air rippled with tension and Shannon licked her lips as she wondered if he would really go the full monty. As the note ended he tugged his G-string off, and Shannon held her breath. The song and the room fell completely silent for a heartbeat, and when the guitar riff echoed around the room he flipped the hat into his right hand and rolled it up his arm to land perfectly on his head. He spread his arms wide and tipped his head back to give all the ladies an eyeful of his junk. Shannon wasn’t the only one to wolf whistle.

Lisa coughed on her drink. “Fuck. He’s hung like a fucking horse.” She fumbled with her cigarette packet, trying to pull out another smoke, and Shannon could hardly blame her.

The song continued and he dropped his hands and lifted his head. From the low moans in the room, Shannon was sure she wasn’t the only one who felt thoroughly shagged by the stranger on stage. His dark eyes locked with Shannon’s. He smiled, and she swallowed as a shiver rippled up her spine and her panties dampened. “He’s fucking magnificent. Who is he?”

Pete’s breath warmed the back of her neck. “His name’s Michael Monaghan.”

 Want more Lillian? Find her here:

Website: www.lilliangrant.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lillian-Grant/187161274732755

Twitter: https://twitter.com/lilliangrantaus

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lillian-Grant/e/B004F8XS84/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1355039922&sr=1-2-ent

Liquid Silver Books: http://www.lsbooks.com/lillian-grant-c161.php

 

It’s that time. I’m going to talk about the books that rocked my world this year. I know, the year isn’t over, and I am quite sure I will read some great books between now and January. I promise if any of them completely blow my mind, I’ll give them a special mention in my New Years resolution post.

First, you’ll notice many of the books on my list are gay (m/m) romance. This is not a coincidence–I read a lot more gay fiction this year than I ever have before, and discovered some new to me favorite writers, whose books I’m thrilled to talk about here.

In no particular order:

First up: No Souvenirs by K.A. Mitchell

This book was published in 2010, but I read it for the first time (and the second, third, fourth and beyond) this year. To me, No Souvenirs is a perfect romance. I adore both Dr. Kim and the Scuba Cowboy. These are NOT perfect characters. Both men were deeply flawed, and I love them all the more for it. The way Mitchell unfolds the story is absolutely delightful, and by the end, I was rooting for these guys and their happy ever after.

Next, Deep Desires by Charlotte Stein

I don’t know what the WHAT with this book. I loved it even as it made me feel lonely and scared and voyeuristic. The main character, Abbie, is terrified and turned on when she watches her neighbor masturbate through a window. The next night, he’s written on the window that it’s her turn. This book occupies all those dark, scared places in Abbie’s brain where she’s not certain she is capable of loving and being loved by another person, and it is brilliant. Told through windows and on screens, between two ends of phone conversations, the reader feels like an interloper, a voyeur, an eavesdropper. It’s brilliant and beautiful.

Where There’s Smoke by L.A. Witt

She did it. She made me fall in love with a smoker. I’m a junkie for political stories, and how fitting that I read this one during an election year. Two words: tension and yearning. L.A. Witt does sexual tension better than perhaps any other writer I’ve read this year. I’ve slowly been tackling her backlist to read as much of her writing as possible and it is ALL because of THIS book.

Ethan, Who Loved Carter by Ryan Loveless

Oh, Ryan, what you did to me with this book. <3 A man with tourettes falls in love with a man who sees through his tics to the beauty within: his neighbor who suffered a traumatic brain injury years before. This was in some ways one of the most “feel-good” books I read this year, even though it dealt with some serious stuff. A book as beautiful as its cover.

Chairman of the Whored by Lucy V Morgan

Oh, THIS book. Lucy writes funny and sexy better than just about anyone, but she also writes dark and edgy erotica like nobody’s business. This book goes to some very dark places, involves knife-play, prostitution. It’s raw and bloody and addictive like running your tongue over a toothache, and it’s hot and sexy and fantastic all at the same time.

And a late favorite, one I read for the first (and second, and third) time just last week, Skybound, by Aleksander Voinov.

Skybound is a 13k word short that takes place on an airfield outside Berlin in the last days of World War II. There was danger and longing, and the very real-feeling desperation of the ugly war hanging overhead. At the end of it I absolutely ached for both Felix and Baldur and the things they’d seen and the fear they felt for each other, and even as I ached for them, I felt so hopeful for their life after the war. Brilliant and beautiful.

There you go, six stunning reads that I absolutely loved. There is actually a seventh book that truly deserves to be here, but it’s not published yet. I look forward to telling y’all about it next year though. 🙂

So excited to share this cover at last! United will be out December 21st from Musa Publishing. This cover was designed by David Efaw, who also designed the gorgeous Amazon cover.