M/M Fiction by Fabian Black

Destiny is HERE - YAY!

2012-02-02T01:20:00.000-08:00

It's a chilly morning here in the UK with weather warnings out for a sharp frost, yep, us Brits do like to over dramatise slight variations in the weather. The good news is that my new romantic comedy 'Destiny Calling' is now out! It will help warm away some chilly hours.

Destiny lures Colin Leyton to a HMV music store one fine Saturday morning in March where he stumbles across the young and flamboyant Sam Taylor.
Sam has a knack for attracting trouble and a gift for rubbing people up the wrong way.
Against his better judgement Colin finds himself playing white knight when Sam’s antics get out of hand and he lands in bother with two store security guards. He gives him a lift home. Sam tries to charm him into a date, but common sense tells Colin not to get involved, in fact to run for the hills and not look back.
However, destiny hasn’t finished with Colin. Sam comes back into his life in an unexpected way, turning it upside down.
Colin's closest friend Jon turns mentor in a bid to help him sort out his feelings for a man most people love to hate.

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-destinycalling-677134-144.html

Happy New Year

2012-01-03T10:33:00.000-08:00

In celebration of the New Year

Win an ebook edition of my forthcoming new novel - Destiny Calling

Season's Greetings

2011-12-19T01:13:00.000-08:00

Season's Greetings to everyone, however you celebrate and whatever you call the celebration. :)

I hope you have a safe and happy holiday with family and friends.

Special thoughts to the many who find this time of year difficult and who might be missing a loved one and to those who are alone, hungry, cold and afraid. May you find peace and a new life in the New Year. x

Libby aka Fabian Black

Guesting over at Jadette Paige's Blog

2011-12-16T06:04:00.000-08:00

16th December 2011

Being a shy sort and lacking confidence I rarely do the guest blog thing, but I have taken the plunge and am posting over at Jadette Paige's wonderful blog: My Book, My Journey. I'm talking about 'Moving On' and what it means to me.

http://www.jadettepaige.blogspot.com/

Under a Falling Star

2011-12-10T00:28:00.000-08:00

Under a Falling Star

Genre: M/M

An embarrassing chance encounter in a department store at Christmas leads to something special for two men, Tay and Julian.

Excerpt
Tay always tells people we met at Christmastime under a falling star. He has a romantic nature, and there’s no harm in that. I like his romantic nature. I suppose in essence we did indeed meet under a falling star at Christmastime, but it was not, as implied, a heavenly star streaking across a winter sky. It was a heavy ornament that sat atop a huge department store Christmas tree.

As well as being a romantic, Tay is as curious as a cat. He simply cannot resist investigating. The department store tree caught his attention as he wandered around choosing seasonal gifts. Was it or was it not a real tree? He decided it was real and attempted to snap off a needle in order to release and enjoy the clean spicy scent of pine resin.

Alas he was mistaken in his assumption. The tree was not real. It was a faux tree and his efforts to twist off a plastic needle unbalanced it from its holdings. It began to shiver and shake, tremble and flounder, shedding baubles, lights and tinsel and finally the glittering five-pointed star at its pinnacle. Shoppers scattered with squeals and shouts of alarm, but not Tay. He stood there frozen and wide-eyed as the star plummeted earthwards. I acted quickly, grabbing his arm and yanking him away before the meteorite could strike him. It struck the floor and exploded into fragments. The tree then felled itself, crashing to the ground.

Tay looked at me and then at the devastation he had wrought and took to his heels, dashing for the store exit. In his embarrassment he quite forgot about the unpaid for items clutched in his hands, a striped wool scarf and a Simpson’s key ring. As soon as he crossed the shop threshold the security tags set off the alarm and a security guard gave chase, mistaking him for a shoplifter.
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-underafallingstar-494114-144.html

Other Christmas themed Fiction:

Out of Tune - two great stories about Nat Andrews and Gordon Trapp.

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-outoftune-449661-145.html

The Christmas Wreath - a strange and ghostly little tale.

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thechristmaswreath-484630-145.html

Bittersweet Seasons - short story collection that has two beautiful Christmas Stories: ‘Completing the Puzzle’ and ‘The Holly Bears a Prickle.

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-bittersweetseasons-458939-145.html

‘Moving On’ also contains a wonderful Christmas tale.

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-movingon-449647-145.html

World Aids Day - A Letter From Steven

2011-12-01T00:04:00.000-08:00

A small story in support of World Aids Day

A Letter from Steven

http://www.fabianblackromance.com/world-aids-day.php

hope it inspires a few small donations to AIDS Charities. :)

First Advent Sunday

2011-11-27T02:21:00.000-08:00

Today is the first Sunday of advent, heralding the run up to the Nativity - Christmas. I can't say I'm feeling in the mood for festivity as such. Life has been stressful lately. Like most folks I'm finding it hard to meet bills as the cost of everyday living goes up and up and income remains static or in my case actually falls. The death of my lovely cat pushed me over the edge into depression and major anxiety. Last Sunday I ended up in hospital after suffering what appeared to be a stroke. It was terrifying. In the end though, after many tests, the doctors decided I'd suffered a type of seizure related to migraine and probably triggered by stress and my grief for the loss of my cat.

Everything that's happened of late has brought home to me how short life is and how it can end at any moment. It's scary and sobering. Christmas is about celebrating birth, the start of a life and is perhaps a time to reflect on what life really is or should be about, loving, caring, being kind to others.

I hate all the material emphasis on Christmas, the ad campaigns by rich Companies to make you spend more than you can afford, as if the amount you spend is equal to how much you love a person. Those rich Companies will make huge profits, but still want more, they'll cut jobs, reduce wages and drive the people who helped make them rich into debt and poverty. It makes me sick.

This year in lieu of being given things I don't need I have asked family and friends to donate modest amounts to homeless charities, because no matter how badly off you think you are, there's always someone worse off. The loneliness of life on the streets must be unbearable.

I wanted to write a new story for Christmas, but it hasn't materialised. I just haven't had the mood or the energy to follow that particular star, my writing life has slowed down, as my mind struggles with other things. I hope the muse returns soon bearing gifts of inspiration and enthusiasm. :)

Happy Advent, keep following your own star and may it lead to peace and happiness.

Sad November

2011-11-25T09:50:00.000-08:00

November has been a very sad month for me. My beloved black cat was hit by a car and killed right in front of me on the evening of November 10th. It was horrifying. I tried desperately to save her, but she was dead before I could get her to a vet. My cat's name was Tosca and she was more than a pet. She was my friend and companion and I loved her so much. I miss her chatter, she was a vocal animal. and her playful and inquisitive nature. She was only four years old and she didn't deserve such an ugly violent death. The car driver didn't even stop, though he must have known he'd hit something and he must have heard my screams. I will never stop missing her, or loving her. She came into my life by chance, like a gift, and to have her taken away so horribly has caused me so much sorrow. I still cry for her every day. I feel like a light has gone out.

My beautiful girl, Tosca, 2007 - 2011

October Contest - Try Something Different

2011-10-08T09:20:00.000-07:00

October is get to know Tarn and Twinkles Month over on my website

Try something different in the M/M genre

I have excerpts from The Diaries and a range of prizes on offer including a t-shirt, ebooks and promo goodies. All you have to do is enter. Simples!

Visit: http://www.fabianblackromance.com/contests-and-giveaways.php

Red Sky by Morning

2011-10-02T04:04:00.000-07:00

Despite the unseasonal warm weather here in the UK Autumn is upon us. The trees are in golden garb and the nights are fast drawing in. If you're looking for something to read on these longer nights then my new release, 'Red Sky by Morning' might fit the bill. :) It's the third story in the 'Postcards' series.

It's a new dawn and a new day, but Linval Larkin is far from feeling fine. His mind is too busy chasing anxiety to take pleasure in the beautiful red-streaked skies of early morning. Resentment is also part of the equation. Thanks to his partner David his chance to reclaim fame has been and gone.

However, there might be small compensation to be had if only he can persuade David to grant permission for his beloved restaurant 'The Transit of Venus' to reopen. In his opinion it's time for prior transgressions to be forgotten and moved on from, but will David agree?

David takes no pleasure in seeing Lin angry and miserable, but he'll weather it for Lin's own sake and for the sake of their relationship, of which he is guardian.

Click the link to read an excerpt from the story. http://www.fabianblackromance.com/red-sky-excerpt.php

Smashwords September Specials

2011-09-07T00:40:00.000-07:00

Smashwords Specials For September

Deadlines 33% Off ~ Code ET35L (15/09/11)

Storm in a Teacup 23% Off ~ Code KF52Z (18/09/11)

Storm In A Teacup

2011-08-13T09:06:00.000-07:00

I'm pleased to announce the release of the second story in the 'Postcards From A Seaside Village series: Storm In A Teacup.

The story outline:

Lin starts brewing up a storm after a visitor to Sandstones lets slip some unwelcome news.

David is unhappy with the turn of events and takes strict action when Lin refuses to keep things in proportion. He makes a decision that leaves Lin in shock.

Tensions mount between them after Lin tries to reverse the decision. David makes clear he won't tolerate being manipulated.

The weather does nothing to help matters as the heat rises culminating in a ferocious storm that endangers both men.

Excerpt:

Lin was standing by the window, the sun blazing through the glass, bathing him in a nimbus of opulent light. He had a hand up to his face stroking the stubbled beard on his chin between thumb and forefinger. It was a sign David knew well, indicating fretfulness.

“I've made lunch, prawn salad sandwiches,” he set the glasses of water and plate of sandwiches on the bedside cabinet.

"Bully for you. You'll be boiling eggs next." Lin didn’t bother to turn around.

Arranging the pillows on the bed David sat against them. “Come on, baby," he spoke gently, "sit with me, eat something.”

"I'm not hungry. I had a good breakfast. Unlike you I don't feel the need to eat to the rhythm of the clock."

"Fair enough." David picked up a sandwich and bit into it. As he ate he studied Lin's form, admiring the sexy shorts he was wearing. The Lycra material moulded his trim body, emphasising his toned thighs and his sweet little bum, he really did have the most adorable bottom. He put the remains of his sandwich back on the plate so he could adjust the crotch of his own shorts to accommodate the swelling suddenly occurring there. An appetite for sex replaced his appetite for food. “Come here, Lin." He patted the mattress. "No more sulks. What's done is done. Come and have a cuddle.”

"I don't want a cuddle, not from you. You've ruined my day." Lin kept his eyes fixed on the view through the glass, even though the blinding light was making them ache.

David took a long drink of iced water hoping it would cool his ardour, but it didn't. The flame of desire burned hotter. Getting up he crossed to the window. "Your hair needs a trim or at least thinning out." He used a forefinger to push gold strands away from Lin's eyes.
“Don’t.” Lin jerked his head away from the caress.

Undeterred David stroked his hair again. "You’re upset and I’m sorry.”

"Sorry enough to change your mind about The Venus opening tonight?"

"My decision stands." David moved his right hand from Lin's hair, sliding it down the silken ridge of his spine to rest on his buttocks. He brought his left hand round to join it. Brushing his lips against Lin’s ear, he murmured, “let's look at the positive aspect. We’ve got the day all for ourselves. Let me make you feel better. I want you.”

“I’m not in the mood for sex.”

“You’re always in the mood for sex.”

“Not this time.”

“I’ll work on it, persuade you towards a different mindset.” David touched his lips lightly to Lin’s mouth, pulling him closer to his body as he did so.

Buy from All Romance -

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-storminateacup-588604-144.html

Summer Contest Winner

2011-08-04T04:22:00.001-07:00

Sorry for delay in announcing the Contest winner. I've been contending with a bout of food poisoning - and no I didn't get it from Lin and David's restuarant, lol!

The answer to the question - what is the name of Lin and David's restaurant - is of course -

The Transit of Venus

The winner is Sarah Jenkins - Congratulations!

Many, many thanks to those who entered. If you wish please contact me for a 20% discount voucher to purchase Fresh From The Sea from Smashwords.com

Summer Contest

2011-07-17T08:40:00.000-07:00

Summer Contest

Win a PDF copy of my new release 'Fresh From The Sea'

Answer this simple question:

What is the name of the restaurant run by Lin and David?

Clue - look on the Postcards page on my website

email me with the answer putting 'Postcards' as the subject line

fabianblackromance@googlemail.com

Closing Date for entries is midnight August 1st 2011

The winner will also receive a pretty bookmark to be sent via snailmail

OUT NOW - Postcards From a Seaside Village

2011-07-09T11:34:00.000-07:00

Postcards from a Seaside Village

A new M/M series about Linval Larkin and his partner David Jordan, set in a picturesque English seaside village.

First Postcard is

'Fresh from the Sea'

'Fresh from the Sea' introduces David Jordan and his temperamental lover Linval Larkin, a once famous TV chef and culinary writer.

David and Lin own a bed and breakfast establishment called Sandstones, formerly a seventeenth century smugglers inn, from which they run The Transit of Venus, the smallest seafood restaurant in England.

In this first story Lin is having a stressful day. He encounters prophetic bees, a mysterious sea mist, an irksome guest and an irate partner.

Worse - when the main ingredient for several of his planned and advertised dishes turns against him, he becomes distraught because it looks like the restaurant will have to remain closed. He fears being dishonoured as a chef.

Help comes from an unexpected source.

http://www.fabianblackromance.com/postcards.php

WORDS - Short Story

2011-06-15T02:13:00.000-07:00

Here's the story, L. :-)

Thomas and Andrew are characters from my book: ‘Moving On’ first published 2008 and re-published 2010. For the purposes of this little story Thomas, purveyor of proverbs, takes a rare turn as narrator

Words

Andrew awoke from what had been an altogether fitful sleep, his voice sounding anxiously out of the darkness of Christmas morning, “where’s Bob?”

Twisting my head I glanced at the clock, which read four a.m. “He’s in his basket downstairs, don’t worry, love, he’s fine. I made him a litter tray up and blocked his cat flap so he wouldn’t be tempted to drag his old bones out into the snow.”

“I’ll just go and check on him,” he sat up in preparation for getting out of bed, disturbing the cosy vacuum of warmth we’d created under the duvet as he did so. Goose pimples sprinkled themselves across my body as the chill air made contact.

Reaching for him I pulled him back down, tucking him into the duvet and wrapping my arms around him tightly. “Andrew, it’s four o clock in the morning, you are not getting up to hold a conversation with Bob, who I’m sure will be fast asleep anyway. The vet said that he’d sleep a lot over the next few days, so let him get on with it.”

“I still think you could have let him sleep in here with us.”

There was more than a hint of sulky resentment in his voice, which I ignored, as befitted it. He was much too apt to sulk when things didn’t go his way, a fact he strenuously denies. “Listen, the sooner Bob gets back into his old routine the better. He’s suffered enough disturbance and so have we, so settle down.” I stroked his hair, “you were crying in your sleep, sweetheart, did you have a bad dream?”

He moved his head in a negative motion against my shoulder, “sorry if I disturbed you.”

“You didn’t and that’s not an answer to my question.” I didn’t want to come across heavy handed, not on Christmas Day of all days, but I had no doubt that he could remember what he’d dreamed about, he just wasn’t telling me. “Andy, last night I was so proud of the way you told me about your worries and feelings, don’t start withholding things now. Nothing is too trivial to talk to me about. You tell me when something upsets you, we talk, and by talking we strip whatever is worrying you of any power to hurt you. That’s the rule.”

“You and your bloody rules.” There was a momentary silence and then he said, “I know it’s daft, but I dreamed that Bob had died. It was horrible.” His voice crackled with emotion.

“It’s alright,” I tenderly kissed the top of his head as he dampened my chest hair with tears, “I think in the circumstances it’s a perfectly natural dream to have, a classic anxiety dream. However, Bob is just fine and he will be for a while yet.”

“He won’t be with us forever though.”

“All things die, Andrew, all living things, it’s the rule of the universe.”

“Screw the universe.”

Another collage of tears flooded my chest. In many ways Andy was still learning how to grieve for past losses, he wasn’t yet ready to deal with fresh loss. I also suspected that his fear of Bob dying was tinged with fears about my death. I was older than he was and chances were that I would die before him. The thought of leaving him pained me and I kissed his hair, murmuring gently, “stop dwelling on things that haven’t yet happened, deal with the things you have to deal with, the things that have happened. Let tomorrow stay forever tomorrow. Bob’s here now, I’m here, we love you.”

“Huh, I know the proverb says that love is blind, but I didn’t know it was stupid as well.”

I wasn’t having that. Pulling back the covers I sat up, turning him onto his front in order to land a sharp slap to his bottom, eliciting a yell. His buttocks were still tender from the spanking I’d given him earlier so the slap would have registered hard. “I’m not putting up with that kind of negativity,” I smacked his backside again, “it insults us all.”

“I’m sorry, Tom.”

He sounded sincere and I lay back down flicking the covers back over us, pulling him back into my arm and cuddling him. “Try to sleep, love, it’s going to be a busy day, and you know my aunt Edie she’ll run us ragged.” It was no good. I could still feel the tension radiating from him. With a sigh I got out of bed, clicking on the bedside lamp. After shrugging myself into my dressing gown I held out my hand, “come on, we’ll go and check on Bob and make sure he’s still alive and then maybe you’ll stop fretting and actually make an effort to sleep.”

I smiled, watching as Andy squatted down to pet Bob who purred happy appreciation. He really did love him and it would undoubtedly be a hard parting when the time came, but God willing it would be a while yet. I did some petting of my own, tickling the back of Andy’s neck, “happier now?”

He glanced up and smiled, “yeah, I’m happy now.”

“Come on then,” I drew him to his feet, “let’s go back to bed. We need to rest.” Switching off the light we left Bob to dream in his basket by the warm radiator.

Snuggled back under the bedcovers he was quiet for a while and then said, “I’m so glad that Bob is home.”

“Me too,” I settled him more comfortably against me, “now, seeing as you seem determined to avoid sleep, let’s talk about rules regarding alcohol over the holiday.” He groaned, but I ignored him. “You may have one glass of wine with your Christmas lunch and that’s it, so make the most.”

“One! Come on, it is Christmas, Tom. I promise not to get drunk and disgrace myself.”

“One, and one only. Any dissension and there will be trouble, is that clear?”

“Yes,” he said, adding with typical Andrew sarcasm, “never trouble trouble till trouble troubles you.”

“Exactly, and believe me my honey if you trouble me I’ll deal with you. Don’t forget I’ve now got a key to Amy’s house. I can quite easily make an excuse to our guests and take you over there.”

“I don’t suppose the size of the one glass is up for negotiation is it?”

“You suppose right, now go to sleep.”

“Tom?”

“What is it now, Andrew?”

He spoke solemnly. “Many a mickle makes a muckle.”

“Meaning exactly what in this context?”

“Fucked if I know, I just felt like saying it.”

His body convulsed with giggles at his own silliness. That was Andrew, using sarcasm and jokes as a way of coping with life. The giggles were infectious and I couldn’t help but join in. When they subsided we kissed. One thing led to another and sleep was postponed again as we made love. I took my own pleasure first; prolonging his climax so that when it came it came strongly, making him cry out as his body shuddered. He would sleep now.

Before drifting off he nuzzled my neck and whispered in my ear, making me smile with pleasure. There’s a proverb that says ‘love will find a way’ and I believe it holds truth, because love had certainly found me. He’s my joy. I bless the day that I stopped my car to pick up a rain-bedraggled stranger, whose shoulders seemed bowed with a burden much heavier than the bag he carried.

The end.

Copyright Fabian Black 2011.

fabianblackromance@googlemail.com

http://www.fabianblackromance.com

Moving On is available as a print from Lulu.com and Amazon.co.uk also Amazon.com

Taking a Break

2011-05-22T14:46:00.000-07:00

Taking a break from writing. I have no joy in it anymore. It seems a waste of time. I detest the whole miserable fucking process.

2011-05-04T08:21:00.000-07:00

RIP

Poly Styrene - Queen of Punk -

3 July 1957 – 25 April 2011

Heaven's now a more colourful place.

****************************************

May Offers

15% off a pdf download of Deadlines over at Lulu.com

http://www.lulu.com/product/ebook/deadlines/15149129

10% off a pdf download of Going to the Chapel over at Lulu.com

http://www.lulu.com/product/ebook/going-to-the-chapel/14595430

APRIL FREE DRAW

2011-04-18T00:41:00.000-07:00

There's still time to read my interview with Holly Hewson over at TRS and enter a draw to win an EBook edition of DEADLINES.

Closing date is 30th April 2011

http://theromancestudio.com/rainbow/who2.php#draw

Read an Ebook for Japan

2011-03-16T06:56:00.001-07:00

Read an Ebook for Japan.

I will donate all commission earned from sales of my ebook 'Pascal's Boys' (All Romance edition) between 16th and 31st March 2011 to the British Red Cross Japanese Tsunami Appeal. I'm choosing 'Pascal's Boys' because it's a story about the power of love to transcend. The story only costs $2.99, which approximates to about £1.87 so even if you hate the story it's not too much to lose.

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-pascal039sboys-514705-145.html

The Japanese people's situation seems to worsen by the day with the fear of a nuclear disaster hanging over them and now snow and lowering temperatures adding to the survivors' misery.

Read an Ebook week

2011-03-09T15:00:00.000-08:00

Visit Smashwords to find most of my titles in the promo. I already just about give my books away, but with discounts they're almost free.

NEW RELEASE - Pascal's Boys

2011-02-15T02:26:00.000-08:00

Pascal Janssen is terminally ill and wants to help ‘his boys’ Tom and Adam prepare for his death.

Beautiful, inspirational, heartrending, but ultimately optimistic Pascal's Boys is a story about the many forms that love can take.

Pascal's wish is for Adam and Tom to be together as a couple, but things have cooled between them. Will Adam finally make a commitment?

Pascal's Boys is available from

All Romance Ebooks - http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-pascal039sboys-514705-145.html

1PLACE FOR ROMANCE - http://1placeforromance.com/manlove/pascal-39-s-boys/prod_3570.html

Visit my website for more details, buy options and to read an excerpt.

REVAMPED VAMPIRE FREE READ

2011-01-28T04:15:00.000-08:00

Dance with a Vampire is a vampire tale with a difference. It's a short, sensual romance story that uses a song title as a door into the story. I've just revamped it and had new cover art designed. The cover is stunning. It was designed by Jade (adventures in 3D) I really love it and think it's a perfect compliment to the story. It's a free read and it can be downloaded from various publishers.

All Romance

1Place For Romance

Smashwords

The Cat Ate My Computer...

2011-01-23T01:49:00.000-08:00

...well, not quite, but she did chew through the cable so I can't use it. She's a menace for chewing at electrical stuff. She's wrecked two hairdryers and she kept biting at the bulbs on the tree lights at Christmas, fused two sets. It's a wonder she hasn't blown herself up. The trouble is that at this time of year it's cold and she doesn't like to go out at night. She prefers to stay in and prowl around the house causing trouble. I could hear her scuffing around my room in the night, but was too tired to get up and investigate. I found the munched cable when I got up this morning and went to do my usual first act of the day - turning on the computer. I share a house with four people and we each have our own computers, but all are in full use on a Sunday, so I'm reduced to using the 'communal emergency computer.' It's an ancient machine with a bubble screen and a kranking handle to start it up, but I suppose it's better than nothing. Anyone want to adopt a large tabby cat with an electricity fetish?

Voting Now Open

2011-01-22T00:21:00.000-08:00

‘Deadlines’ has been nominated in several categories in the LRC Best of 2010 Reader Awards.

VOTING IS NOW OPEN

I was also nominated in the best GLBTQ author category. This is the first time I have been nominated for anything since I began writing professionally and I would be most grateful should anyone consider casting a vote my way. :)

Voting begins on Saturday 22nd January and lasts until 30th January 2010 at Dawn's Book Nook

Nominated for LRC Reader Awards

2011-01-19T02:43:00.000-08:00

I’m honoured, gobsmacked and rather thrilled to announce that I have been nominated in several categories in the LOVE ROMANCE CAFÉ’S Best of 2010 Reader Awards.

Best GBLTQ Author - Fabian Black
Best Erotic Book - Deadlines by Fabian Black
Best Book all around - Deadlines by Fabian Black
Best Book Cover - Deadlines by Fabian Black

I would be delighted and grateful should anyone wish to vote for me. Thank You. Voting opens on 22nd January 2011 at DAWN'S NOOK NOOK

BUY ONE GET ONE FREE

2011-01-12T05:55:00.000-08:00

Buy one - get one free!

Buy a Smashwords Edition of Going to the Chapel and get Coming Out absolutely free!

Simply email me proof of purchase and I will mail you a coupon to get Coming Out for zero cost.

Email me at: Fabianblackromance@googlemail.com

Going to the Chapel - OUT NOW

2011-01-09T09:31:00.000-08:00

OUT NOW!

Going to the Chapel

Another wonderful installment of The Stardust Diaries.

Has Twinkles forsaken Tarn for another? Who was the friend he slept with?

Is Tarn's new date destined to replace Twinkles is his affections?

Only Time and Tarn will tell as he journals the days of his life.

buy links

Under a Falling Star

2010-12-12T04:14:00.000-08:00

A New Seasonal Short Story

An embarrassing chance encounter in a department store changes the lives of two men, Tay and Julian

CHRISTMAS CARD

2010-12-08T07:12:00.000-08:00

A little card sent early for you to enjoy before the hustle and bustle of Christmas sets in. Enjoy!!

Click here for your card.

Call for Support

2010-12-01T03:56:00.000-08:00

Don't forget that today is World AIDS Day - wear a red ribbon in support of all those affected.

On a different note, if you enjoy reading gay fiction then be aware of a new online bookstore where ALL the titles on offer are GLBT. There are some great ebooks by great writers at great prices. Pay a visit and have a look around, maybe discover a new writer that pushes all the right buttons for you. All purchases go towards supporting GLBT writers and publishers. http://glbtbookbinge.blogspot.com/

Post-Op Musings

2010-11-30T04:11:00.000-08:00

Twelve days ago I underwent major surgery. It was an op I’d tried to avoid having for the best part of five years. I tried every alternative method of trying to rid my body of the problem that ailed me. Some of it was traumatic in itself, some of it helped, but none of it cured, so in the end I decided to have the surgery I’d dreaded. Everyone kept saying that I’d made the right decision, but to me it felt like a defeat. I was terrified of the whole procedure for several reasons, not least because I’m bipolar and I was afraid that the stress of the op and its affects would upset my rather fragile emotional balance and send me crashing into another major depression. I was scared of going into hospital. I’m not good with change or adapting to different environments and new people. I was scared about the anaesthetic – I’m a control freak and let’s face it agreeing to have someone stick a needle in the back of your hand and inject you with drugs to put you to sleep is not being in control of anything. I did ask if I might have the op done under epidural so I could keep an eye on what was going on. My surgeon said a very firm no.

I had some invaluable support from my community nurse and the hospital team were brilliant. My surgeon knew all about my anxieties and made a point of coming to see me before the surgery to talk to me (and make me laugh) The anaesthetist was also great and went out of his way to reassure me. The op was a success and I’m recovering well at home, some days are better than others. I’ve had some weepy days, which probably isn’t unusual in the circumstances. Invasive surgery takes its toll on anyone, mentally as well as physically.

Not being able to do too much as I recover from the op means I’ve got more time than usual to spend on my computer and one might expect I’d get more writing done and I have done bits and pieces, but mainly I’ve been trying, under duress, to plug ‘Deadlines’ the book I completed before going into hospital. I truly hate the whole promo cycle, but if you want to sell copy you have to do it, so I have been told. I’ve put a few notices on groups and on twitter and more cautiously on facebook. I’m not keen on facebook. I just find the whole concept an uncomfortable and intimidating one. I’m not what you’d call an outgoing person; lots of writers are shy solitary people I think and I find it difficult to push myself into conversations with people I don’t really know. I’m just not confident enough to jump in and start chatting.

I have a truly fragile personality/ego – I’m always waiting for that final brutal kick, the one I won’t be able to get up from. It’s one of the reason I have never submitted my work for review, a cruel or unpleasant review would devastate me. I make a point of not reading reader comments on various sites if I can help it (the goodreads site for example plays host to some particularly vitriolic people and I give it a wide, wide berth. I was initially persuaded that I had to have a goodreads account, as it would help me sell my books. I did try it but I have since opted out because I disliked the atmosphere and the spiteful self-importance displayed by so many of its members. Some of them are like dogs tearing apart kittens in a blood frenzy when it comes to opining on a book. One of them starts the slaughter and the rest pile in yapping and snarling for their share of the kill ;-)) I guess it’s self-protection. I can’t afford to dwell on things that will make my mood slip and make me hate and doubt myself any more than I already do.

Another reason I don’t personally submit to review sites is because a lot of the folk who set up as book reviewers don’t really understand the process of literary criticism, they think liking or not liking a book and saying so (often quite nastily) amounts to a fair critique. I also don’t think the style of fiction I write is generally well appreciated. It tends to get lumped in with erotica and/or BDSM and really it’s quite different. Most reader reviewers, it seems to me, just don’t understand gay domestic discipline fiction. The books that get the highest ratings are ones that have purely sexually driven bondage/spanking scenes and that just isn’t my style. Discipline as discipline and not as an obvious sexual prelude (especially in relation to gay fiction) is outside of a lot of readers and writers understanding.

As a result I’ve been snubbed on many occasions. My most recent snub was particularly humiliating. I came across a writer whose subject matter was similar to my own insofar as she wrote romance fiction with a domestic discipline theme (albeit with a M/f dynamic instead of M/M) I took my courage in both hands and left a friendly message on her public blog saying how I liked something she’d said about DD and asking permission to add a link from my site to hers as I thought her work might be of interest to some of my readers. I of course hoped it would lead to some dialogue and a mutual exchange of links to both our advantage. She completely ignored me. She’s updated her blog several times but has just blanked my comment. Seeing as it’s the ONLY comment on her blog it’s kind of hard to believe she overlooked it by mistake. She could have replied to my comment in brief or dropped me a little email to say she didn’t want to be linked, but to just cut me in such an obvious manner was to my mind rudeness beyond the pale.

Another upsetting experience happened some weeks ago. I had an unsolicited email from a guy who runs a review site and he asked to review my work. On the one hand I was flattered to be approached, but on the other I was also very nervous about the prospect. I wrote back voicing my concerns about being reviewed by someone who might not get the style of fiction I wrote. He was very nice and assured me he did get my style of fiction and in fact wrote a similar style himself. So I sent him a pdf of one of my books along with, I confess, a rather panicky and half jokey email about whether he really wanted to review it (voicing some of my own insecurities in the process) It probably wasn’t the best time for me to agree to a review as I was already in a state about my approaching op. Anyway in the event I never ever heard back from him. I regretted saying yes in the first place. I of course surmised that he absolutely hated the book and/or had been put off by my insecure email. It left me feeling anxious and depressed about what he had said or might have said to people about my work and made me more resolute about not submitting to review sites.

I do realise that my attitude to reviews is considered a great weakness for a writer. Reviews, especially good ones of course, might help sell more books, but do they really enhance the writing experience – my very personal answer to that is no. I write because I love and need to write and because I know that some folk really do enjoy my fiction and that’s nice. On my good days I know that I’m a competent and often powerful writer and I also know and accept that what I write will not be to everyone’s taste and that’s okay. I’ll never be able to make a sole living from writing and that’s okay too. What I want is to write what is meaningful to me, to make a little money from something I work hard at and to have at least some feedback once in a while from folk who have been touched by a story.

‘Deadlines’ has earned a bestseller silver star on All Romance and I’m pleased with that. I could use it as a promo point, but it just isn’t within my capabilities to shout it out in a loud voice down every avenue, I might whisper it here and there and slip it cautiously into certain postings, like this one, but that’s the best I can manage. :)

IN SUPPORT OF WORLD AIDS DAY

2010-11-29T04:53:00.000-08:00

December 1st is WORLD AIDS DAY

Click this link to read a story in support of this important campaign:

http://www.fabianblackromance.com/world-aids-day.php

The Christmas Wreath

2010-11-26T03:34:00.000-08:00

A touching seasonal short story - I love the cover art for this, it's so unusual. It was designed by talented 3D artist- Jade.

Seventeen year old David Delaney lives with Patrick Bell in what was once a cafe. It's Christmas Eve, but there is little festive feeling in the air - David has incurred Patrick's displeasure by behaving irresponsibly.

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thechristmaswreath-484630-145.html

http://www.lulu.com/product/ebook/tales-from-the-bell-end-cafe---the-christmas-wreath/13841478

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/31248

http://1placeforromance.com/manlove/the-christmas-wreath/prod_2708.html

Cold Day/Warm Discounts

2010-11-24T05:06:00.000-08:00

To warm up a bitter cold day here in my corner of England I'm posting notice of some discounts. Curl up with one of my books and a cup of something hot and steamy. ;)

Quote coupon code CYBERUK at checkout to get a 25% discount on all my print and Ebook titles over on LULU.COM (UK Customers only) valid until 29/11/10

All Customers can quote Coupon Code: KN46N on Smashwords.com in order to get 17% discount off a download of Deadlines. Expires: November 28, 2010

STOCKING305

2010-11-20T01:59:00.000-08:00

Quote STOCKING305 at checkout on LULU.COM and get a further 15% discount off a paperback copy of Deadlines.

Drum Roll please---

2010-11-14T10:39:00.000-08:00

Deadlines is now OUT in EBook. Visit my website for details:
http://www.fabianblackromance.com/deadlines.php

NEW RELEASE - DEADLINES

2010-11-08T02:28:00.000-08:00

OUT NOW IN PAPERBACK

DEADLINES

A D/s romance novel by Fabian Black

The Station Master’s brat, Michael Mosse, has a deadline pending in more ways than one.

Joseph Townsend never planned to live a life of domestic bliss with anyone, let alone a spoiled and vain young man some thirteen years his junior, but there he is, happily domiciled with Michael Mosse in what was once a Victorian Stationmaster’s house. However, the domestic waters suffer disturbance when it becomes clear that Michael has something on his mind.

The modern day Station Master and Michael’s Top, Joseph, is keen to know what it is. His attractive partner has a convoluted way of thinking, which usually doesn’t bode well either for himself or the people around him.

Michael finally confesses to having problems with a deadline at work. He’s been set a design project that he’s less than happy about. He feels he ought to have been given a more prestigious job by his boss, Tom, Joseph’s brother. He wants Joseph to intervene on his behalf.

Joseph refuses and issues a warning. Michael is to set aside resentment and meet the deadline properly or find himself in trouble, not only at work but at home.

An unexpected visitor to the kitchen of the Station house, a wild red fox, claims Michael’s attention and serves to distract him further from the task in hand. Joseph isn’t pleased. To begin with he isn’t an admirer of foxes.

As things turn out the fox sets Michael towards the meeting of another long overdue deadline.

Click the link to read an excerpt (adult content)
http://www.fabianblackromance.com/s-master.php

15% off paperback for a limited period

Ebook coming soon

Many thanks,

Fabian Black

Donuts and Desires Quick Six TNG

2010-10-26T01:38:00.000-07:00

Pop over to Giselle Renarde's blog Donuts and Desires to read my responses to six quick questions :)It would be nice if someone left a comment.

http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com/2010/10/quick-six-tng-with-fabian-black.html?

Thanks

GRRRRR!

2010-10-24T04:35:00.000-07:00

My eldest son, who is nineteen, was involved in a motorbike crash this morning. I hate him riding a motorbike, but my opinion doesn't count. I'm only his mum. He on the other hand, so he tells me, is a man and a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do...at the highest speed possible.

I get the news he's crashed and has been taken to hospital for a check over, I start shaking with shock, but am grateful he was wearing appropriate attire and is at least still alive.

He arrives home from the hospital covered in cuts and bruises and on crutches because of a smashed knee, but is he down, NO! He's straight on his mobile calling his pals in order to boast about how he and his bike parted company at over 100 miles an hour. It's an adventure to him, something to laugh about.

The crash might not have killed him, but he was a hairs breadth away from being strangled to death by his mother. Grrrrr, bloody boys and their high adrenalin toys! He's putting years on me.

Modern Art Anyone?

2010-10-16T04:24:00.000-07:00

Speaking personally (and how else can I speak) modern art is a bit of a hit and miss affair. Some of it I like and some of it just doesn’t compute.

Take Antony Gormley’s work for example, some folk hate it, but I love it, especially his Angel of the North sculpture. I think it’s awe-inspiring, it just does something to me. Okay, I acknowledge that the wings aren’t the most graceful wings an angel has ever possessed. I doubt that Mary would have been impressed if the angel Gabriel had shown up with what looks like a couple of planks strapped across his shoulders instead of a nice set of curved feather wings, she’d have probably asked for a second opinion regarding the message being delivered.

The latest piece of modern art to be causing some controversy is Ai Weiwei's Sunflower Seeds, which is currently being exhibited at The Tate Modern. A good many folk are questioning whether a 100 million replica sunflowers seeds handcrafted from porcelain and chucked across a floor can really be construed as ‘art.’

Again speaking personally (seeing as no one is willing to speak for me) I think it is art, or at least the concept represented by the seeds is artistic. One of the obligations of art is to make us think. The seeds represent, and I quote: the ocean of humanity, the incalculable numbers of people on this earth – and their fragility underfoot. With regard to the latter, the exhibition was meant to be interactive, visitors to the hall where the seeds are exhibited were meant to walk across them, to feel them give underfoot, to pick up seeds, each of which represents the individual in the crowd.

It therefore seems ironic that something that was designed to make people think about the whole concept of humanity has been closed off from humanity by the mysterious beings who make up the health and safety executive. It seems they feared that the dust given off from the seeds as they were crushed underfoot would cause health problems. The exhibition has consequently been roped off. People are no longer allowed to walk on or even touch the seeds. They have to view them from the bridge that crosses the hall, which kind of makes its own statement…humanity distanced from itself.

It’s really rather sad. To me the decision, which was apparently made for the public good (chilling words) is a kind of censorship. It’s a bit like preventing people accessing certain kinds of books (for example that debacle a while back when Amazon attempted to cordon off glbt books and make them difficult for folk to access) Health and safety regulations are all well and good (without them we’d still no doubt have kids dodging under looms in textile factories) but how far is far enough and how far is too far?

Rumour has it that the health and safety police are planning to target the world of kink next. Tops will be forced to wear protective earplugs in case the noise made by their subs under punishment damages their hearing. Subs on the other hand will be forced NOT to wear butt plugs in case it damages their…well you get the picture.

Ponderings on Sensuality and Sex

2010-10-14T04:07:00.000-07:00

The burning question of the day is: what does the sensuality rating on All Romance E-Books really stand for?

It’s a question I’ve pondered for some time, mainly as a means of avoiding doing housework. I find that one cannot ponder and do domestic chores at the same time. Pondering is an art that requires long periods of sitting perfectly still, moving only to replenish one’s coffee cup and grab another biscuit from the tin. So, getting back to the question, what is the sensuality rating on Are really meant to convey to readers?

My personal interpretation of sensuality is of something understated, a slow build up of sexual tension, looks (possibly smouldering) kisses, caresses, touches and something left to the reader’s imagination, but then, apart from the occasional scene or two I’m a fade to black kind of writer when it comes to sex. That’s just the way I work, but it leaves me with a dilemma when it comes to rating my own books for sensuality. I think the sensuality in my stories comes from something other than sex. It’s to do with language and description.

I think the sensuality rating on Are should be replaced by a straightforward sex rating because that’s what it really means, it’s a measure of how much graphic sex is contained within a story. I think calling it a sensuality rating is being a bit coy.

I also don’t care for the lips motif that accompanies the sensuality rating, what is it supposed to mean? A representation of how much oral sex is contained in a story?

I think the lips motif should be replaced or at least accompanied by a cock motif. A single flaccid penis could indicate no sex and then there could be a set of penises at various stages of erection to indicate that things are hotting up. Five fully erect cocks would clearly tell the reader that scenes of rampant rutting and graphic grunting are liberally sprinkled throughout the book. Of course it might not work for lesbian fiction, some other motif would have to be employed for F/F stories.

Another question: when does a sex scene stop being erotically arousing and become pornographically off-putting? I read a fair amount of erotica in all genres, I enjoy it, but I’ve noticed that sex scenes are getting more and more hardcore and taking up more and more of a story. The characters and storyline become something secondary, something to be manipulated solely to facilitate sex. I recently read a story where a sex scene was so graphically described and in such base terms that it revolted me. I had to wash my hands afterwards. I wouldn’t have minded so much but it was a Postman Pat story and really he shouldn’t have been doing those things with Jess the cat! (Not really)

Judging from things that I’ve read by other authors and from emails I’ve gotten from fans I think there’s a growing feeling that sex is becoming the only criteria for selling books, but not everyone is happy with that state of affairs. Some folk like their romance to be well, romantic. They prefer to have their imagination supply the graphic details rather than have the graphic details supplied in glorious technicolor.

Enough pondering, my coffee mug is empty and I’ve eaten all the biscuits.

Drat! I missed out on the Man Booker Prize

2010-10-13T02:12:00.000-07:00

Drat! I missed out on the Man Booker prize, again!

Congratulations to Howard Jacobson for his win. Apparently the judges narrowed the final shortlist down to just two books before deciding on Jacobson’s ‘The Finkler Question.’ Andrew Motion, chair of the judges (what a rotten job that must be, having a pile of judges use you as a piece of furniture) refused to name the book that came in second, as he didn’t want the author ‘going to bed and eating their pillow.’

Well, folks, I can officially announce that author was me. I kid you not. The judges reckoned my book, ‘The Jack and Danny Chronicles’ used kink to tackle universal themes. Edward Docx writing in the Observer said and I misquote:

"As all serious artists do, Fabian Black is mining her immediate milieu as a way of directly unearthing the deeper questions of family, society, belief, culture, relationships -- the underlying nature of humanity and kinkiness."

Did I eat my pillow upon learning I came in second? No, but I did eat a rather large Chinese takeaway followed by a tub of Ben & Jerry’s phish food ice cream washed down with a flagon of wine. We all have our own way of coping with disappointment.

Of course, coming back to my version of reality, I didn’t come in second or third or indeed anything, because my style of fiction falls into the category of fiction that the Man Booker judges would categorise as ‘toilet paper’ but I care not. I have no doubt that all those authors who were short listed for this worthy prize will have produced works of noble literature that will stand the test of time. The books will sell in droves and be placed on bookshelves across the world, and some might even get read.

My fiction will never win a prize, never sell in droves, never appear on bookshelves across the world, but that doesn’t mean it has no merit. I know from the emails I get from time to time that my little stories entertain people, make people laugh and upon occasion even cry. All fiction has merit, be it a grand work of literature that explores the underlying nature of humanity or a humble romance story that gives someone a point of identity and a few moments of pleasant escapism, a release from the stresses of the real world if only for a few moments.

Rumour has it that a panel of indie writers are getting together in order to promote those of us who write in the gay erotica genre. The prize will be called: ‘The Man to Man Fucker Prize’ so get those quills out and start writing! Oh, and on a final note, the judges for this new prize are already looking for a chair of the judges, so if there are any kinksters out there who enjoy being sat on by a variety of people I’d start applying now.

Matt Damon's Pregmancy and other stuff

2010-10-12T02:26:00.000-07:00

A headline in the world of entertainment caught my eye this morning: Actor Matt Damon is expecting a girl!

WOW! How about that then? Congratulations on being a pregman Matt, I hope the morning sickness isn't too bad. I bet his wife's relieved, it'll save her doing all the agonising squatting and pushing this time round. What's the bet he'll change his view on contraception once he's given birth. LOL. The headline would have made more sense if it had read: Matt Damon and wife are expecting a girl, or Matt Damon's wife is expecting a girl. Perhaps I'm just being picky. :)

With Halloween fast approaching I thought it was time to talk about Christmas. Yes, it's that time of year again folks - the plugging season. Several of my print books are currently discounted on Lulu.com so now is the time to pick up some bargains. My anthology, Bittersweet Seasons, would make a great stocking filler or just a seasonal treat to read. It contains two lovely Christmas stories, 'Completing the Puzzle' and 'The Holly Bears A Prickle.' Out of Tune is also a good choice for those who enjoy festive fic as it is set around two consecutive Christmases. Both currently have 20% discount and they weren't even that expensive to start with! You can read excerpts and find more info on my website: http://www.fabianblackromance.com/

Paul Newman Quote

2010-10-11T01:51:00.000-07:00

I love this quote by Paul Newman, if only more people were willing to open their minds and quell their base instinct to persecute people they perceive as different:

I'm a supporter of gay rights. And not a closet supporter either. From the time I was a kid, I have never been able to understand attacks upon the gay community. There are so many qualities that make up a human being... by the time I get through with all the things that I really admire about people, what they do with their private parts is probably so low on the list that it is irrelevant.

Paul Newman

Serbian Gay Pride March

2010-10-10T11:29:00.000-07:00

Shocked, sickened and depressed by the behaviour of anti-gay protestors in Serbia. Hundreds of them targeted the country’s second Gay Pride March baying for the death penalty for homosexuals. What the hell is wrong with these people? The world seems to be going backwards rather than forwards in terms of tolerance. It makes me want to weep with anger and frustration. I stand in admiration of the men and women brave enough to demand to be counted in a country that still has medieval attitudes to gay people. I hope with all my heart that their courage will help bring about acceptance.

Let's Hear it for Harry Potter.....

2010-10-07T03:07:00.000-07:00

....Or at least the actor who plays him, namely Daniel Radcliffe.

Whatever you think of the films (and I love them) it has to be said that he, the person who plays Harry, comes across as a very nice young man, and to my mind a courageous one. He has shown his support any number of times for GLBTQ rights. Not many young male actors would be willing to take such a prominent stand for fear of what it might do to their careers and reputations, and who can blame them when the media delights in making scandal out of what should be a person’s private life.

Daniel Radcliffe’s most recent stand has been in support of The Trevor Project, which aims to help LGBTQ young people who are the victims of bullying because of their sexuality and who may be struggling with suicidal thoughts. His appeal comes in the wake of a string of tragic youth suicides in America. It’s utterly heartbreaking and utterly depressing that in this day and age young gay people still have to contend with such dreadful prejudice and who think their only chance of peace is to end their lives.

World leaders and the world clergy have to take a very large measure of responsibility for these deaths, their refusal to grant GLBTQ people the same rights and respects, as everyone else is shameful in the extreme. Those who could and SHOULD do so much to discourage prejudice and promote tolerance do nothing, and in fact actively contribute to the problem.

In an ideal world a person’s sexuality would not even raise an eyebrow. A person should be judged on his/her deeds and not on their sexual orientation.

The Trevor Project

A bit of Blurb

2010-10-04T07:41:00.000-07:00

October already and still no Deadlines...what can I say except sorry. It should definitely be out some time this month. I'm now just waiting on cover art. I'm experiencing that flat, almost anti-climatic feeling that often comes when I complete a story, especially one that I've worked hard on. I always fear I'll never be able to write another word ever again, and that's scary. I think it's something most writers experience. You put all your mental and emotional energies into a story, living and breathing it and then suddenly it's done. I think it must be a bit like empty nest syndrome. You put years of your life into raising your kids and then they leave home and you're left thinking 'what do I do now?' It's take a while to adjust.

Deadlines has turned out to be a much longer book than I'd first envisaged. It's novel length, over 52,000 words.

Here's the blurb:

Deadlines

by

Fabian Black

A D/s romance novel
Joseph Townsend never planned to live a life of monogamous domestic bliss with anyone, let alone a spoiled and vain young man some thirteen years his junior, but there he is, happily domiciled with Michael Mosse in what was once a Victorian Stationmaster’s house. However, the domestic waters suffer disturbance when it becomes clear that Michael has something on his mind.

The modern day Station Master, Joseph, is keen to know what it is. His pretty partner has a convoluted way of thinking, which usually doesn’t bode well either for himself or the people around him.

Michael finally confesses to having problems with a deadline at work. He’s been set a design project that he’s less than keen on. He feels he ought to have been given a more prestigious job by his boss, Tom, Joseph’s brother. He wants Joseph to intervene on his behalf.

Joseph refuses and issues a stern warning. Michael is to set aside childish resentment and meet the deadline properly or find himself in trouble, not only at work but at home.

An unexpected visitor to the kitchen of the Station house, a wild red fox, claims Michael’s attention and serves to distract him further from the task in hand. Joseph isn’t pleased. To begin with he isn’t an admirer of foxes in general.

As things turn out the fox sets Michael towards the meeting of another far more important deadline.

The first chapter is posted on my website.

Black Angel Day

2010-09-27T11:14:00.000-07:00

I'm having one of my down episodes. I woke up this morning to find the black angel had moved into my head during the night. I've always visualised my depression as a great black angel. It's like one of those dementor things from Harry Potter, it feels like it's sucking all the life out of me. It makes me hate everything about me, it undermines my confidence and saps my energy. I can't even take solace in writing because every word I put on the page looks wrong and I think everything I write is rubbish. Nor can I can take comfort from reading because my concentration stinks. I get to the end of a paragraph and have to start over because I've forgotten every word I've just read. Maybe it's a case of early autumn blues. Who knows. I wanted to do a final edit of Deadlines today, but I haven't been able to. I'm not in the right frame of mind so it's best to leave well alone. It wouldn't be the first time I've deleted something in a fit of depression because I didn't feel it was good enough. I really ought to go for a walk, but it's wet, cold and dark and I can't be bothered. So here I sit, moaning to a computer screen. Here's hoping for higher, brighter bluer skies tomorrow.

Some General Moaning and other Stuff.

2010-09-25T06:01:00.000-07:00

After a stormy few days here in the north the weather has cleared. It's breezy and chilly, but at least it's bright and dry.

Feeling a bit annoyed today, I won't go into details, suffice to say that there are some very bad mannered people in the online world of writers and publishers.

I'm also annoyed with my new neighbours. They moved in two weeks ago and have been banging, drilling, crashing and thumping all day every day ever since. It's giving me a headache. I can barely hear myself think let alone concentrate on writing. I feel like they're about to come through the walls.

I have just revised, re-edited and re-launched 'The Tsavorite Stream' anthology of short stories. It is now called Bittersweet Seasons. It's a collection of gay love stories. It contains The Jade Talisman, which I'm rather proud of. I worked with a fine editor on this story, Piet Bach, and I think he has really helped me polish this piece to a high shine. In general I don't like working with editors. They often think they know best, but they don't, not always. Some of them take your baby, suck all the lifeblood out of it and then hand you back a nicely embalmed corpse. Piet Bach had a way of working that didn't make me feel trampled on. I still felt in control of my own work and words. It was a good experience and I learned from it.

The stories in Bittersweet Seasons are more mainstream in flavour than my usual stuff, though there are references to M/s and D/s relationships. The stories are about love, the seasons of life, relationships and self acceptance. They're sensual both in language and content rather than erotic as such...no graphic sex, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. I get fed up with the idea that all gay fiction has to be very heavily sexualised. I don't mind some sex scenes in a story, don't get me wrong, I enjoy well written erotica. It's just that so much of the published gay fiction written by women these days focuses only on explicit sex, the storyline and characters get lost in what is essentially hardcore masturbation material.

I've finally completed 'Deadlines' It just needs some final edits and I am also waiting on a new cover design. Although I really love the cover originally designed for the book by the talented Mia Romano, it was felt that perhaps the dominance of the fox figure hinted at the story being a shape shifter story and it certainly isn't that. When I first began writing Deadlines paranormal romances weren't as much in vogue as they are now, so it would have been fine if I'd completed the story back then.

You can find more details about Bittersweet on my web page.

Five Minute Fiction: A Fairy Tale Re-Visited!

2010-09-23T11:18:00.000-07:00

I unearthed this from my computer today while trawling through looking for another story I seem to have lost, when oh when will I learn to organise stuff properly. Anyway, I thought this was quite fun, silly, but fun, so thought I'd repost it here, if only to stop my blog from feeling lonely.

We should never forget our cultural and literary heritage and the discipline genre, in common with other literary genres, has a wealth of classic folk tales worth preserving, this isn’t one of them, but you’re getting it anyway.

The Gingerbread Brat

Once upon a time an authoritative but patient and kind Top lived all by himself in a little old house by the side of a road. One day, the authoritative but patient and kind Top, decided to make himself a special treat, because he recognised his own worth and knew that he was completely entitled to nice treats from time to time, especially if all his duties were in order and up to date, as of course they always were.

So it came to pass that the authoritative but patient and kind Top made a handsome little gingerbread boy** and put him in the oven to bake. Before long he heard a tiny voice calling:

“Let me out! Let me out!”

The authoritative but patient and kind Top immediately went to the oven door and opened it. The gingerbread boy jumped out, skipped across the kitchen and ran straight outside. The authoritative but patient and kind Top was amazed, but immediately took charge of the situation, as of course he would. He knew at once that he had subconsciously baked a gingerbread brat and his authoritative but kind and patient heart leapt with alpha joy.

He quickly baked a gingerbread paddle and set off in pursuit of his gingerbread brat. “Stop, stop, little gingerbread brat, come back here at once, are you listening to me, boy?”

But the naughty yet adult, fully consenting, gingerbread brat just sang:

“Run Top run, as fast as a cat

You can’t catch me.

I’m the gingerbread brat!”

As he ran the naughty yet adult, fully consenting, gingerbread brat, encountered several bleating goats, a whinnying horse and a spiteful cow who all wanted to tell him where he was going wrong in life, as well as consume him whole, but he outwitted them all, running on and on, feeling mighty pleased with himself and singing his frankly irritating little song:

“Run Top run, as fast as a cat

You can’t catch me.

I’m the gingerbread brat!”

The authoritative but patient and kind Top smiled to himself, because he never got angry, and murmured, “oh just you wait, my naughty, yet adult, fully consenting, gingerbread brat, we’ll be having words about this.”

Then the naughty, yet adult, fully consenting, gingerbread brat came to a river and stopped in dismay. He didn’t want to have to dunk himself. “Oh dear,” he said...actually he said “Oh Fuck”...but this being a classic tale and all I didn’t think I ought to use language like that.

Anyway, he stared at the river and wondered how he was going to get across, all the while feeling rather nervous because he could hear his creator Top crashing through the undergrowth towards him, carrying, he gulped, what smelled like a freshly baked gingerbread paddle.

Then a sly but smooth talking foxy guy appeared from nowhere. “Hello, you smell good enough to eat, little boy! How about I take you across the river in my super fully equipped ocean-going cruiser, and we discuss menuful, er, I mean meaningful relationships over a nice cup of strange tasting coffee. Later I’ll serve you with, er, I mean treat you to a plate of lava beans and a nice Chianti?”

The naughty, yet adult, fully consenting, gingerbread brat looked thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded, “okay, that sounds good to me.” He was just about to step on board the foxy guy’s boat when his collar was grasped and an authoritative voice intoned.

“Not so fast my gingerbread brat,

at running I’m the Top cat.

I’ll always catch you in the end,

and over my knee you will bend.”

(Look, I never claimed it would be Shakespeare)

The foxy guy made himself scarce as the paddle brandishing, authoritative but kind and patient Top spanked the naughty, yet adult, fully consenting, gingerbread brat for running off and being cheeky, but most of all for getting himself into a potentially dangerous if not fatal situation, and without a safe word.

As in all the best fairytales, the foxy guy got his comeuppance in the form of a pre-legislative fox hunt, who were out having one last fun packed, butchering session before their horses and hounds had to be slaughtered and made into dog food for non productive city dogs, who knew nothing of the ways of the countryside.

Again, as in all the best fairytales, the authoritative but patient and kind Top and the naughty, yet adult, fully consenting, gingerbread brat, lived happily ever after…not withstanding the times when the usually kind Top was being mean and unreasonable, as Tops are wont to be at times…and brats wouldn’t have it any other way.

The end.

Copyright Fabian Black 2010

**Please note that boy in this context refers to a gingerbread boy over the age of eighteen

Sunny September and a discount voucher.

2010-09-04T01:12:00.001-07:00

The kids have gone back to school, so naturally the miserable wet, windy weather of August has given way to sunshine and blue skies. However, you can tell that autumn is creeping on. The leaves are already beginning to change colour and mornings have a misty chilliness to them...oh and of course there are already Christmas cards in the shops, WTF! I refuse to even glance at them.

Lulu.com is offering a back to school 20% discount on any order, so if you fancy one of my prints or downloads now is the time. You'll have to get your fingers out though as the offer expires on 6/9/10. Quote the word SCHOOL at checkout to get the discount. Make sure you spell it right though, no writing SKOOL or you won't get the discount and someone will pop out of the screen and rap you over the knuckles with a ruler...ouch!

Update on the release of Deadlines, ahem, I'm afraid I missed the August deadline. What can I say, I'm crap at meeting deadlines. Health continues to be an issue, there are days when I just can't function either on a mental or physical level. Depression make the physical problems worse and vice versa. However, I'm back on target with edits, so hopefully, crosses fingers, it will be out some time this month.

Bank Holiday Tombola Has Been Drawn

2010-08-30T04:56:00.000-07:00

The Bank Holiday Tombola Draw has taken place.

The winner is BEN J!

I’d like to sincerely thank everyone who entered the contest. The response was excellent, far higher than I anticipated and it was fun noting all the different locations from around the world. I’d also like to thank those of you who added comments about how much you enjoyed my stories. I appreciate it.

Watch out for more contests in the future.

Roll Up - Roll Up! Book Contest

2010-08-27T01:57:00.000-07:00

I'm having a Bank Holiday Tombola Contest over on my website. Answer a simple question for a chance to win a signed copy of 'Moving On' plus a Bookmark.

Visit my site for the gory details (well, not gory exactly, there's no blood loss involved)

http://www.fabianblackromance.com

You've gotta be in it to win it!!

Deadlines and Pirates

2010-08-24T12:40:00.000-07:00

I thought it was time I updated the old blog. I was pleased to find a comment regarding Tarn and Twinkles, which I've replied to. :)

Well, I know I've been threatening forever to finally finish Deadlines and I am getting closer. Hopefully it will be out in September. This year has been a hard slog for me in many different respects. I've had health problems both physical and mental. I've had some dark episodes, which inevitably drain my energy and slow me down. The book has also turned out to be longer than I initially envisaged, but that's the way things sometimes turn out.

What's with the Skull and Crossbones? Well, E-Book Piracy is on the increase, I've fallen victim myself and it isn't nice. Click here to read an article about it.

Love and Life with Stardust Twinkles

2010-07-29T08:36:00.000-07:00

'Swan Songs' is the first installment of 'The Stardust Diaries'

The love of Tarn's life is his partner, Jonathan Lane, assistant manager in a jeweller's shop, aka Stardust Twinkles, transvestite and part time drag queen.

Life with Twinkles is many things, but quiet isn’t one of them. He’s beautiful, complex, impulsive, a diva, demanding, loving, bitchy, jealous, emotional and sometimes just plain naughty!

Tarn's views and philosophical observations on life and love with his unique partner are highly entertaining.

The hub of T & T's social life is The Pink Parrot Club, a haven for the transgender crowd. Here you’ll find Twink's best friend, Lulu, and his deadly rival, Natalie, the fiend in a frock. Meet the ballroom dancing medics, Teddy and Maurice, and Brian, the club owner, and a host of others including Rick the lascivious barman.

Follow the trials, tribulations heartaches and joys of life with a man who has a unique aspect to his personality. An uplifting and tender book with some laugh out loud moments, as well as some tearful ones.

Read An Excerpt Here

The Stardust Diaries

Book Two

January 3rd 2006 to May 31st 2006

Another instalment of The Stardust Diaries… what does 2006 have in store for Tarn and Twinkles? Only time and Tarn will tell.

Funny, romantic, thought provoking and endearing… a glimpse into the life of an unusual couple and their alternative lifestyle.

Read an excerpt here

Also available in the same series

Coming Out

Jonathan springs a couple of surprises on his boyfriend Tarn. The first surprise leaves Tarn shell shocked, but on the second occasion it’s Jonathan who gets a shock.

Tarn tells the tale of how his boyfriend Jonathan Lane comes out to him as a transvestite and also details their very first discipline encounter.

Coming Out also contains the evocative and moving ‘A Letter From Steven.’

Coming Out is a supplement to 'Swan Songs'

Swan Songs and The Stardust Diaries are available in print from Amazon stores and Lulu.com E-Books are available from Lulu, Smashwords and 1Romance E-Books

Click here for list of buy links

SUMMER SALE

2010-07-01T04:26:00.000-07:00

There's a Summer Sale on my books at 1ROMANCE E-BOOKS

Moving On: was $5.95 now only $3.95

Winter Pink Skies: was $5.95 now only $3.95

The Jack and Danny Chronicles: was$6.95 now only $4.50

Coming Out: was $4.55 now only $2.50

The Tsavorite Stream: was $4.00 now only $2.00

Swan Songs: was $6.25 now only $3.74

Out of Tune: was $5.95 now only $3.95

The Corridor and Other Stories: was $5.25 now only $3.25

The Jitters was $2.50 now only $1.99

Limited period only!

Winter Pink

2010-06-04T11:30:00.000-07:00

Winter Pink Skies is now published on 1Romance E-Books

Current Reads

2010-05-08T07:09:00.000-07:00

I'm doing more reading than writing at the moment. My current reads are:

As If After Sex by Joseph Torchia...I'm not sure whether I'm enjoying this book or not. I am fascinated by it though and want to finish it. It's a beautifully written, literary book, but I find myself being distracted from the story because I'm so busy admiring and pondering on the way the book is crafted and the way the author uses language and themes. I'm almost half way through it and thus far I can't say I've completely warmed to either of the lead characters, Robert (who narrates) and the mysterious and rather seedy Julian. I'm more in love with the writing style and the dreamy and rather tragic atmosphere of the book. I suspect it will become one of those books that I read only once, but will never give away.

Echoes of the Future by A.B. Gayle, Aleksandr Voinov, Jude Mason, Kate Cotoner...this is much lighter stuff. It's a collection of m/m Sci-Fi short stories. I particularly enjoyed Jude Mason's contribution: 'Rescue Me' it has two engaging lead characters, Patch and Jad, and some nice steamy sex scenes, plus a little bit of kink. I really hope the author gives these characters a further outing. I also enjoyed A.B. Gayle's story: 'Reversal' it's a very clever and amusing story involving a domestic cyborg robot. It was very entertaining. This is a book well worth downloading. It's very reasonably priced and can be purchased from Noble Romance Publishing.

A Prophecy of Destiny Ancient Prophecy Book 1 By Leiland Dale...this is a new venture for me. It's a paranormal romance, this one involving werewolves. I've just started reading it and am enjoying it so far (though I was a bit thrown by the lead character's name at first, Will Stanton, because it reminded me of 'The Dark is Rising' by Susan Cooper, where the hero is also called Will Stanton) It's a nicely paced clean read and I'm looking forward to seeing how things unfold. The cover is drop dead gorgeous and one of the things that drew me to the book. It can be bought from Mr Dale's website. http://authorleilanddale.co.cc/home.php

Out of Tune

2010-05-03T05:30:00.000-07:00

Out of Tune
(previously titled and marketed as: "the last thing out of the box & Out of Tune)

Christmas 1981: Psychiatrist Gordon Trapp returns from a trip abroad to discover that his young would be lover has conducted himself less than admirably in his absence. He decides that it's time to take Nathaniel Andrews firmly in hand.

A year passes, it's December 1982 and Nat and Gordon's unique relationship is tested when a conflict of interest arises between them. Nat seems determined to flout Gordon's authority...but why? D/s Fiction...charming M/M stories with a discipline theme.

Chilly But Bright

2010-04-21T01:42:00.000-07:00

It's chilly in my corner of the UK today. Winter seems determined to hang around for a while longer, hopefully Spring will nudge him aside very soon. At least it's bright, which helps raise my spirits a little.

I have a special offer for anyone seeking to buy a book instead of a download. Digital formats are brilliant for speed, but I don't think anything beats the written word in book form. There's something about a real physical book that satisfies in the way a digital book simply does not. I love having books around to pick up and put down whenever I feel like it.

The offer is as follows:

Free Shipping

Purchase one of my books from Lulu.com and receive a £2.99 credit towards your final order

Quote FREEMAILUK305

Offer valid until: 5/5/10

Special Offer For Spring

2010-04-16T11:59:00.000-07:00

33% discount when you purchase a Smashwords Edition of Winter Pink Skies

Simply quote the code VS87A at checkout

Coupon valid until 05/16/10

News and Stuff

2010-04-06T02:56:00.000-07:00

I’m pleased to have one of my short stories featured in this month’s edition of Wilde Oates. The story is called Jade Talisman. It’s one of my more mainstream gay stories. I wrote it some time ago, but this is the version I’m most proud of.

Wilde Oates is an online magazine that celebrates gay and bisexual fiction; it also has some very interesting non-fiction articles. It’s a very classy production, it’s free and it’s well worth a look: http://www.wildeoats.com/MainPage

I’m still no closer to finishing ‘Deadlines.’ I’m blocked on the final chapter. It just isn’t coming together as I want it to. For the past few months I’ve been struggling with chronic depression and it plays havoc with my ability to focus. Hopefully things will improve soon, along with the weather and brighter days. :)

Promo Discount Coupon

2010-03-21T05:49:00.000-07:00

Easter Promotion: The Corridor and Other Stories

Buy a Smashwords Edition Download and get 25% discount

Promotional price: $4.50

Coupon Code: ES52N

Expires: April 10, 2010

Present Code at Checkout

CLICK HERE

New Instalment Of The Stardust Diaries

2010-03-01T08:20:00.000-08:00

Just Published

Another instalment of The Stardust Diaries…what does 2006 have in store for Tarn and Twinkles?

Only time and Tarn will tell.

Funny, romantic, thought provoking and endearing… a glimpse into the everyday life of an unusual couple and their alternative lifestyle.

For details and excerpt visit my my website:

D/s Romance Fiction

Or click HERE to buy

The Horror Of Haiti

2010-01-14T13:29:00.000-08:00

Anyone who has seen news footage of the earthquake in Haiti surely cannot fail to be moved by the plight and suffering of these poorest of people. Their lives were bad enough before this disaster.

Without wishing to sound like someone intent on shoving the notion of charity down folk's throats, I include here a link to The Red Cross Haiti Appeal and a humble request that people might consider donating something. Please, please, help these people. Imagine what it must be like to find you and your loved ones in such a situation. Thank you.

THE HAITI EARTHQUAKE APPEAL

If it helps encourage a donation (and I certainly hope it doesn't hinder ;-) and again without wishing to sound arrogant, I will gladly mail a free pdf copy of 'The Jitters Omnibus' or whatever you prefer, to anyone who writes me in exchange for a small donation to the appeal.

email me at: fabianblackromance@googlemail.com

Shocks and Trophies

2010-01-11T09:41:00.000-08:00

I've not had the best of starts to 2010 with one thing and another. The worst was that one of my sons was assaulted a few days ago. He was attacked by five people who punched him repeatedly, determined to inflict as much damage as possible. Fortunately the police were pretty quickly on scene and those concerned were arrested. He was punched so hard that his lower lip had to be stitched back together. The most shocking aspect of this unprovoked attack is that the five people were women!! Whatever happened to the gentler sex? Or was that always a myth similar to the one that says men don't cry.

On a pleasanter note I found out today that I, or at least my alter ego, Cat (writer of The Jack and Danny Chronicles) has been nominated for a Tea Room discipline fiction Award. That was a surprise, so thank you very, very much to anyone that nominated me. I wrote for a lot of years under the Cat moniker and it's nice to know I'm still remembered.

Belated Happy New Year

2010-01-08T09:46:00.000-08:00

Seasons Greetings To All

2009-12-07T05:22:00.000-08:00

Red Ribbons At The Ready For World AIDS Day 2009

2009-11-28T06:38:00.000-08:00

Please remember that this coming Tuesday, 1st December 2009, is World AIDS Day. Show your support and help raise awareness by buying and wearing a red ribbon. AIDS devastates so many peoples lives. Men, women and children suffer and die the world over. Spare a moment to reflect on the lives already lost and offer a prayer that a cure will eventually be found.

Click on the book cover to download ALetter Fron Steven via Lulu.com or for other download choices visit Smashwords

Couple holds Australia's first gay union

2009-11-25T10:51:00.000-08:00

Two men became Australia's first same-sex couple to hold a legally recognised civil partnership ceremony on Wednesday, under new laws which look set to be quickly overturned.....

Let us hope and pray that sanity, decency and compassion prevail over ignorant discrimination and cruel intolerance. Why oh why in this day and age do some people still believe that they have the right to say who can and who can't have their love recognised and respected under law.

Congratulations to Warren McGaw and Chris Rumble. They've been together for 20 years and I for one wish them continuing happiness.

Story: Peter And The Wolf

2009-11-19T06:55:00.000-08:00

Giving It Up

2009-11-14T02:04:00.000-08:00

I'm having one of those days where I'm seriously thinking about dropping all ambitions to be a writer. I'm tired of the process and tired of all the effort I put in to end up with a paragraph of half decent prose. I'm sick of agonising over vowels and consonants and puzzling over placement of commas and full stops. I'm tired of emails asking for more 'free' stories because to me that feels more like an insult than a compliment. It says, yeah, I like your stuff, as long as you give me it for nothing. I know it probably isn't meant as an insult, but all the same, it's discounting. Writing is also a lonely business and at the moment I think being a waitress in a cafe would be more rewarding. At least I'd get to talk to people, exchange smiles and stand a chance of receiving a tip or two.

I think I've probably hit the equivalent of the runners wall. I feel like I can't continue. I've got loads of unfinished manuscripts. I sit down at the computer determined to work and my mind goes blank. I stare out of the window, flick through files, doodle on post-it notes, rummage in the desk drawers, mould little animals from lumps of Blu Tack and link paper clips together to make punk style jewellery. I take a deep breath and force my fingers to touch the keyboard, but it's a battle to get words and sentences out of my head and onto the screen.

I've worked really hard over the past two years to improve my writing and to learn publishing techniques and maybe I just need to give myself a break. I haven't made my fortune but I've at least tried to up the bar not only for myself, but for others in the discipline partnership genre. We deserve more than to be just anonymous writers producing free fiction for shoals of anonymous readers. Such a state of affairs really doesn't help us grow as writers or readers. The M/F corner of the discipline book market thrives because the writers believe in themselves as artists and also believe they have a product worth selling, but those of us who write M/M seem to feel it's something to be ashamed of, or at least something to be kept under wraps.

I happen to think that a lot of MM DD fiction is vastly superior to the M/F stuff on several levels. It tends to have more interesting story lines and tries to explore the discipline dynamic in a more intelligent way. It attempts to explain why CP is much more than just a prelude to sexual activity for many people. With respect, a lot of the Doms in the M/F discipline fiction that I've read make me shudder. They lack kindness, intelligence and humour and see their role as being one of natural male supremacy over female inferiority, especially in books that label themselves as being 'Christian Domestic Discipline.' There are some good M/F reads, but I still think M/M has the edge.

I fully accept that M/M discipline romance fiction is never going to be a huge part of the commercial book market, but it does deserve at least a small and legitimate corner of it.

Gay Romance Obscene?

2009-11-04T01:54:00.000-08:00

According to Squidoo it is.

In keeping with the recent trend for pogroms on ‘Adult’ sites they have decided to cull many lenses. I have been informed that some lenses I created to promote my wares are considered Adult in nature and are to be deleted in order to safeguard innocents from stumbling across them and being so offended that they need trauma counselling. Yes people, according to Squidoo, gay romance is obscene.

There is absolutely nothing obscene in my Squidoo lenses, no nudity, nothing x-rated, nothing inflammatory. My book covers are perfectly respectable. In comparison to most mainstream fiction and indeed some fiction aimed at the teen market my stories are relatively staid. Sex happens, but not on every page and not in graphic detail, if rings get mentioned in my stories they’re more likely to be wedding rings than cock rings. The only element that might raise an eyebrow is the discipline element, but again it’s hardly obscene, I strive to present an intelligent argument as to why some people include consensual discipline in their relationships. My stories are romantic, loving and often humorous. They’re gay affirming and strive to portray a positive image of gay relationships and maybe that’s the real problem. It seems that many sectors of society are still determined to keep gay life, gay culture; gay anything, firmly in the shadows, something suspect and guilty, and it just isn’t acceptable.

So, stuff you Squidoo. I hope a Japanese Whaling Trawler catches you in its nets and sells you to a Sushi Restaurant.

Hitler Gets His Geocities Site Deleted

2009-10-27T07:46:00.000-07:00

..but mine are still up and running??? Why is that? I thought all Geo sites were to be obliterated on 26th October 2009? Did someone at Yahoo forget to push the button, or did the email giving the order get lost in cyber space or get sent to the spam folder?

This is quite funny and cleverly edited: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBpN2feA48s

Update: my old geo sites seem to have gone now. I'm sad but also glad, it was driving me mad not being able to get in and edit and update because of an error on Yahoo's part.

My new site for my commercial fiction is: http://www.fabianblackromance.com/

The Corridor and Other Stories...

2009-10-11T03:08:00.000-07:00

...has been revised and re-launched with a brand new cover. Currently the new version is available only from Lulu.com, but the good news there is that, at long last, they've brought their postage charges for single items down from the stars and into the world of ordinary mortals (on the down side, they hired a space ship and took the postal charges for bulk orders up into a universe far, far away, it's swings and roundabouts for us poor indie authors)

This is now available on Amazon.com and should hopefully filter through to other Amazon sites before too long. Many thanks to those kind enough to comment on the new cover. I'm glad you like it. :)

Visit my website to read excerpts.

Short Story: The Making Of An Atheist

2009-09-15T10:44:00.000-07:00

The making of an atheist…

The man I loved died. His name was Alec and he passed out of all being on an afternoon in late winter. It was snowing and he asked me to take him to the window. So, wrapping him in a blanket I carried him to his favourite chair by the French windows. We sat together, watching snow collect on the bare bones of jasmine and honeysuckle. In the chill garden, snowdrops fulfilled their name and the trees stretched long limbs studded with foetal buds against a pale sky. He would never see them open. He died peacefully in my arms, as the last day of February crept towards a March that for him never came. His ashes were scattered and borne away on the wings of a winter breeze.

‘Alec is dead’ became a constant litany that my mind chanted as I wandered through the following days and weeks. It was as if I had to keep repeating it in order to convince myself of the terrible truth. Through it all I drank coffee and went about the daily business, firmly believing that God was giving me the strength to keep going. I was that rare thing you see, a man of faith.

Winter was hesitant in departing that year, trailing an icy cloak into spring’s allotted space on the calendar. I moved dreamlike through March, April and all the months that followed in strict succession, on into autumn, and then winter again.

Standing by the window clasping a mug of hot, sweet coffee between my hands, I watched snow shroud the skeletal branches of the Christmas tree I’d put up in Alec’s memory, ‘can’t have Christmas without a real fir tree, never mind that the needles drop, you old misery, and don’t give me that pagan stuff either, you love it just as much as I do, Isaac. You just won’t admit it.’ His voice still resonated in my mind, forever a part of me. So I bought and dressed a fir tree, as if he was still there, still with me, but it served only to emphasise my loss. It was with relief that Twelfth Night came and I could remove the tree from the house without feeling I was letting him down. It still lay in the garden, a forlorn remnant of Christmas past, reminding me more starkly than ever, especially that day, a late February day, that a whole year had passed since last I’d held him in my arms. For me the seasons halted at that point. A promise of spring that came to nothing, dwindling in an expired breath, leaving a permanent seam of winter in my heart. Hardening my senses to the sight of slender, silvery green shoots poking through a thin covering of snow I moved away from the window.

Easter came early; chocolate eggs coexisting with cut price Christmas merchandise on supermarket shelves…the babe of Bethlehem grown to adulthood in the space of several moons. On Easter Sunday, as I stood at the lectern in front of a small gathering, I suffered yet another bereavement. Something died within me, expiring along with my voice as I struggled to complete the reading. Resurrection, rebirth, the words were but empty promises, warped mythology. They fell from my lips, brittle shards of ice that melted and drained away. I paused in my address, the truth impaling me before witnesses. There was no resurrection, no rebirth. The only truth, the only certainty offered by The Crucifixion was the certainty of cruel death and permanent departure. My heart was already dust, microscopic particles that I’d cast on the wind along with the ashes of a man who’d been dead for a year, the man I loved. Binding my faith in grave clothes I consigned it to the dark cave alongside a God made suddenly mortal, a man called Jesus who had been dead for two thousand years, a man whose teachings had been corrupted and used to condemn the love I had shared with Alec. All my prayers had been a waste of time, nothing but desperate superstitious appeals to a man long dead, and one who had failed me while I yet believed in his divinity and kind mercy. Alec was dead. I would never hold him in my arms again, never taste his lips, never hear his voice or look into his eyes and see his love for me, a love that they said was sinful.

Closing the bible I stepped down from the lectern and walked away, no longer a man of faith.

Selling the home I’d shared with Alec, I resigned my teaching post and moved away.

Copyright Fabian Black 2009

Gay Blogs Under Attack?

2009-09-10T12:34:00.000-07:00

Rumour has it that Blogger/Google or whoever, are taking a leaf out of Amazon's book and launching a blitz on adult gay blogs. Apparently lots of blogs have been subjected to censorship and even closed down for so called policy violations. Fair enough if those blogs are truly guilty of violations, but who is determining exactly what constitutes a policy violation, is it a violation simply to have a blog that has adult gay content? A blog called 'Jockspank' seems to be the latest victim of this gay cull and is currently 'under review.' The owners of Jockspank made it very clear that their content was adult in nature, they also strived to make clear that all models were aged 18 and over and that they did not condone and would not support any under age material or links to such. Jockspank was an excellent resource for discipline aficionados of every persuasion. As well as spanking erotica and fairly straightforward male glamour porn, it had intelligent articles and interviews. In short I found it to be an interesting magazine style blog and I hope it's back soon.

Three Discipline Drabbles

2009-09-10T01:28:00.000-07:00

A Family Heirloom:

It’s a thing of beauty, a family heirloom lovingly handcrafted by Joshua’s great grandfather as a gift for his bride to be. Sitting at the dressing table Ben watches the late afternoon sun play along its back. The warm topaz shades in the walnut wood glow like jewels. He imagines Joshua’s great grandmother sitting where he’s sitting, drawing the heavy oval brush through her long hair, as she prepares for bed. A voice firmly speaks an instruction. Picking the brush up He obediently stands, turns and walks slowly across to where Joshua is waiting. The heirloom’s beauty diminishes a little.

Collision Course:

How do I tell Alan that I don’t wish to continue this relationship, not in its current form anyway? I love him, that hasn’t changed, but the need for discipline has. It has served its purpose and is no longer relevant. A new direction is called for. I’ll tell him tonight. He’ll understand and respect my decision I know. Then, when we’re clear about this new direction, I’ll calmly explain why the car’s front end is crumpled, on account of me being unable to slow down in time to prevent collision with a stationary police car. He’ll understand, I think.

Submissive:

Hurt me. Make me bleed, I said. Why, he answered, why must you hurt, why must you bleed? As penalty, I whispered, for living when I have no right. He stroked my face tenderly and held me for some time before saying, no one should have to hurt or be made to bleed in order to justify existence. You have as much right to exist as any one of us. I will never make you bleed for being yourself, nor hurt you for my lone pleasure. He was the one I had waited for. I placed my trust with him.

Copyright: Fabian Black 2009

Creative Constipation

2009-08-20T00:23:00.000-07:00

I've had a difficult few weeks, I would have liked to be able to escape into other worlds via my writing, but alas I'm majorly blocked in that respect, a case of creative constipation.

Anxious day today, eldest son gets his 'A' level results. He seemed fine when he headed off to college, but my guts are churning. I'm actually considering doing some serious housework just to take my mind off things and pass the time until he calls to say what grades he got. I just hope and pray that he gets the results he needs for his chosen university. He worked hard enough, but his handwriting is appalling and my worry is that the examiners will have trimmed a few marks because of that.

Fingers crossed!

Happy Birthday?????

2009-08-03T15:50:00.000-07:00

It was my birthday today. In common with one of my characters, Jonathan Lane, aka Twinkles; I do not cope well with birthdays. I need two of them, one to get my anger out of the way, and another to be a bit more rational about the whole thing. Unfortunately, I do not have a lovely and understanding ‘Tarn’ in my life to help me make sense of painful and conflicting emotions. I just have me, so, at five this morning I found myself walking, and walking and thinking too damn much. Most people who know me try to arrange to be out of the country around the time of my birthday, either that or they poke cards through the door in the dead of night so that they don’t have to face me. I don’t know why, but birthdays make me hurt, and they make me bitter and angry and not nice to be around and I’m not proud of those emotions. Tomorrow, I will feel more able to set aside ugly emotions and read my cards and enjoy more fully the gifts given to me by well meaning and valued, and patient, friends and family.

Excerpt from Swan Songs:

'Let me explain. Twinkles and birthdays simply do not mix. The best to be hoped for is a tight management of the day itself, in order to minimise casualties. With that in mind I do not make him a birthday breakfast, as hard experience has taught me that either the kitchen or myself will end up splattered with it and not accidentally, as happened in respect of my birthday breakfast this year. I do not give him a card or a present because I know he’s likely to tear up one and throw the other while shouting about them both being crap! I don’t take him out to dinner, because he will be rude to me and anyone else he comes into contact with. Twinkles is a bit like a Hobbit, only instead of having a second breakfast he has a second birthday. We celebrate it the day after his actual birth-date, because by then he’s usually calmed down and got everything out of his system, and he’s then ready to enjoy his cards, presents and my attentions properly. Over the years, we’ve talked much about why birthdays make him unhappy and consequently unpleasant and we’ve concluded that there’s a combination of reasons, none of which can be put into absolute terms. The only absolute is that birthdays bring out the worst in him.

In common with many regular women the prospect of getting older is not one relished by transgender people, or indeed by the gay community in general where youthful looks are even more prized than in the straight community. A lot of manipulation goes on when it comes to giving details of one’s real age. Not that Twinkles has anything to fear yet, not by a long chalk. He’s almost six years younger than I am and I still consider myself to be young. I think in Twinks case it’s more than a fear of aging that cause his birthday blues. I think most of it is to do with expectations that can never be met and thus every birthday is a let down. When he was a little boy his birthdays were marked, but not exactly celebrated, if that makes sense. His sisters got birthday parties, but he didn’t because according to his grandfather’s twisted logic, boys didn’t have parties because they were un-masculine. His mother favoured fully biological girls over boys with a penchant for dressing up as one, so she never pushed the matter on her son’s behalf. There was a card and sensible present beside his plate at breakfast, but that was it. There were no hugs and exaggerated kisses or messy homemade birthday cakes covered with candles etc. Every year he hoped his birthday would be different that he’d wake up and everyone would like him and make a big fuss of him, but every year he’d be disappointed. I firmly believe that that sense of disappointment and rejection is something that still drives his birthday blues to this day. He wants something he can never have, because the past is immovable. It is as it was and will always be, and he hasn’t been able to detach himself and let it go. In the here and now of adult birthdays nothing is good enough for him, because it is not what he wants at a very deep level. His sadness and sense of loss manifests itself as a criticism and angry rejection of everything that he is given. It’s a kind of corruption and reversal or casting back of the criticism and rejection he felt as a child on what should have been his special day. Childhood shouldn’t leave scars of any kind, but alas it does for some.

The alarm went off a second time and I regretfully patted Twinkles’ bottom and told him it was time to get up, not expecting for a moment that he actually would, not at the first time of telling anyway. However, I got something I didn’t expect. He said he didn’t need to get up, as it was his day off. I told him he’d better be winding my flaming key. He wasn’t. He’d changed his day off. I could have strangled him with my bare hands. Another coping strategy we’ve developed over time is that he doesn’t take his birthday off work. It’s best if the day is as ordinary as possible and work helps keep his mind occupied. I was most vexed. After showering and dressing I pulled back the duvet and hauled him out of bed telling him to get ready. Was I frigging deaf, hadn’t I heard him say it was his day off? No way was I leaving him alone in the house all day to storm and stamp, or worse, trot off to pay a call on his mother. My announcement that he was coming to work with me where I could keep an eye on him did not go down well. I didn’t care. He flounced off to have a shower bristling indignation and sporting a warning red handprint on his bum.

The other evening, while we were out celebrating his shop window nomination, he had one glass of wine over discretion and aired a thought that had he been more sober he might have kept to himself. I was glad, forewarned is forearmed as they say. He brought up the subject of his birthday and casually said that he was thinking of paying mommy dearest a visit to remind her of the son she had borne all those years ago. He felt it was important, seeing as she was now his sole remaining parent. I sternly told him to put all such ideas out of his head. Remember that incident in the coffee shop, when he saw his mother and grandfather that Sunday? Well, that really hurt him. It brought to the fore his pain at the way his mother has rejected him so completely. It made him want to lash out even more at her and ever since then he’s been dwelling on it and looking for an opportunity to get even. Grief and anger are potent forces. I took his threat to visit her seriously. He’s paid her a call before on a birthday. He got dressed up to the nines one year and consequently ended up getting arrested, not for being dressed up, but for using one of his high heels to smash out all the glass panels on the front door when his ice matron mother closed it in his face. He was bound over to keep the peace on that occasion. With regard to this occasion, I was not about to risk getting a call at work telling me he’d been arrested; therefore I meant what I said about him coming to work with me. However keeping him there all day was hardly feasible, and besides none of my staff deserved to have the birthday boy from hell inflicted on them. I had a morning staff meeting that I couldn’t get out of, but after that I could just as easily work from home.

Lulu, wearing a mauve baby-doll nightie and a pair of novelty miss Piggy slippers was already in the kitchen drinking tea and eating toast when I went downstairs. He offered me a slice. It was his new recipe, honey and mustard. The smell was bad enough so I politely declined while wondering what the boy possessed in lieu of taste buds. The sound of the morning post arriving coincided with the sound of Twinkles descending the stairs, in spite of my having told him to stay in the bedroom until it was time to leave (I wanted to spare Lulu being caught in the birthday fallout) Moving like a greyhound on amphetamines I galloped up the hall, but not fast enough to stop him leaping down the last four stairs and pouncing on the pile of mail on the mat. Evading my attempts to grab him he sidestepped into the living room and slammed the door in my face, leaning his weight against it to try and keep me out. His strength is no match for mine, especially when I’m mad enough to be tied and I heaved the door open demanding that he hand over the cards immediately. He refused; after all they were addressed to him. I told him I was going to count to three. He retorted that I could recite the frigging alphabet in Greek for all he cared, they were his cards and he was going to open them and see what rubbish he’d been insulted with this year. I issued a quiet threat. If he damaged a single card I would wallop his arse so hard it would cringe at the thought of making contact with a chair for weeks to come. He flung the pile of cards on the couch and said he didn’t want to look at them anyway.

Marching into the kitchen he replied to Lulu’s birthday felicitations with the words, ‘that shade of mauve makes you look like you have a chronic heart condition.’ Lulu retorted that at least he didn’t look as if had inflamed haemorrhoids and why was he always such a sodding grouch on his birthday? (He doesn’t know the half of it) Twinks then demanded to know where his card and present was. Lulu said it was upstairs and he’d get it in a moment, to which Twinkles replied, ‘don’t bother because knowing you it’ll be a pile of cheap tat anyway.’ Poor Lulu was really upset and said that actually it was a bottle of the new Sarah Jessica Parker perfume, ‘Lovely.’ Twinkles immediately said it wasn’t lovely it was horrible and he didn’t like it and anyway he’d bet it was a nasty fake copy from one of Lu’s Del-Boy contacts. Unsurprisingly Lulu took complete offence. Leaping to his feet he said fine, he’d take it back and change it for a bottle of POISON, because that suited Twinkles’ venomous personality better. He fled the kitchen all but in tears.

I coldly told Twinkles that it was bad enough that he snapped and snarled at me, but it was absolutely indefensible to do it to people who were being nothing but kind and decent to him. He had shot himself in the foot where Lulu was concerned because usually he leaves for work later than us, but because he was upset he left early without saying goodbye. I have never been so pleased to hear the front door slam. Needless to say I put my bad mannered boy over my knee and gave him a birthday spanking that was totally devoid of any air of celebration. It ensured that the car ride to my place of work was a less than comfortable one for him.

He spent the remainder of yesterday safely ‘caged’ in our room with the television and the December issue of Marie Claire to keep him company. I occasionally went up to poke victuals through the bars receiving menacing growls and dark looks in return. I shuddered to think what would happen if he escaped into civilisation. Lulu, still hurt by Twinks treatment, phoned to say he was going over to Kevin’s after work and would go straight onto the PP from there. I fibbed and said that Twinks had asked me to convey his apologies, he hadn’t meant what he said, hinting that he was out of sorts and that was what prompted his mean response. It was a kind of truth and I knew Twinkles would be genuinely sorry when the mood passed off. Lulu was slightly mollified and asked if Twinks would be going out? I said I didn’t think he was up to it and he’d be giving the PP a miss. It would be like setting a wolf amongst lambs.

It was a much cuddlier lamb-like man that opened his eyes on the world this morning. He loved his cards. The perfume that Lulu had bought him was just what he wanted and the long, straight blonde Cher wig I gave him to replace the one that got eaten by the Hoover made him screech with joy. Flinging his arms round my neck he said I was the most beautiful man in the world. He said sorry to Lulu for being a birthday bitch and presented him with the top layer from his box of Thornton’s Continental chocolates, minus the Viennese truffle, because that was his favourite. We had a lovely breakfast. I took him to work and in about an hour’s time I’m taking him out to dinner. He doesn’t know where yet. It’s a surprise. Remember how in the aftermath of the kidnapping he missed out on an opportunity to dine at Judges, the poshest restaurant in the area? Well, I’m taking him there I managed to get reservations. I can’t wait to see his face when he realises where we’re headed.

My mother is a bit better this evening. I called the ward and the antibiotics seem to be doing their job. Her birthday present to Twinkles was a hoot. It made me laugh anyway. She got her revenge for the remarks he made about the jumper she bought me for my birthday. She got him one too. There’s a great big fluffy sheep on the front of it and embroidered underneath are the words: ‘Fleece don’t blame me for this! My mother-in-law bought it and she’ll cut me out of her will if I don’t wear it.’

Time to get ready. Twinks has finally vacated the bathroom. '

End of excerpt: To anyone celebrating a birthday at this time, I wish you well and happy.

Stitches and Reviews.

2009-07-27T08:52:00.000-07:00

I had a somewhat traumatic weekend; I ended up in hospital last Friday evening after an accident that left me needing 15 stitches in a deep cut to my arm. It put a whole new slant on the term 'slash writer' lol. It was all pretty traumatising in its way and I’m still a bit shaky. I was doing some time site surfing today and I came across a couple of newish reviews for a couple of my titles on Amazon.com. I was really thrilled; they lifted my day and made me feel a whole lot better about life. So, on the off chance that the reviewers stop by here at any point I’d like to say, thank you so much for taking time to write and post those reviews. It meant a lot to this humble self-published author. :-) Vanity demands I share them. ;-)

Amazon Review for ‘The Jack And Danny Chronicles.’

Amazon Review for ‘Moving On.’

Breezing

2009-07-12T00:12:00.000-07:00

Just thought I'd breeze in for a few moments to say hello, that's if I can get near the keyboard to type, my tabby cat is insistent that she wants to lie down on it.

After a night of torrential rain, Sunday has dawned damp, but bright, and very windy. I can't believe that we're heading into mid-July already, the summer is fast fleeing. That sounded very poetical, didn't it, lol. Which leads me on nicely to what I've been doing lately on the writing front. I abandoned my usual love, M/M romance, because with one thing and another, I just felt I needed a change. I've got hundreds of poems and stories littering floppy disks etc, and I decided to organise some of the poems and publish them into a book. Computers are all very well, but they don't last forever, and neither will the Internet, look at Geocities closing down. I wanted some physical evidence of my work, something that perhaps I can actually show my family without fear of being rejected as something 'unnatural,' though come to think of it, a few of my poems will cause raised eyebrows and questions, so perhaps not. My writing is the only way I've ever been able to express the real me, so maybe it's best that I just keep it secret, because if they get involved they will bring their prejudices and disapproval and I'll end up feeling embarrassed and self-conscious and apologising for my very existence, again. I need a place where I can be me without fear of condemnation. Hmm, I'm supposed to be breezing here, not getting heavy. ;-)

Anyway, I quite enjoyed picking out and polishing poems to put in the book and I finally got them all uploaded yesterday along with some relavant photos. I'm waiting for the proof, so I'm hoping it looks okay and I've chosen the right layout. It was very expensive, but if it looks nice it will be worth it.

I need to get back to writing Deadlines, and I've also got a few short stories that I'd love to finish, though one of them, Pascal's Boys, is trying to turn into a ruddy novel, and that's kind of tired me out. I want a short story, not a novel. I've got too many unfinished novels as it is. I know it's to do with lack of writing discipline on my part. I get too easily sidetracked and I get too easily dispirited. I need an editor with a cane in his/her cupboard to keep me motivated and on track. ;)

I have produced another version of Swan Songs. It's the same book, but with a new cover and no ISBN, so is available only on Lulu. I had real problems with getting this book into distribution channels, due to errors on the publisher Lulu's part. It's now available on Amazon.com and will gradually filter through to other channels. I've had a few complaints about the book being expensive and I'm sorry about that. Believe me, I make very little by way of royalty. The book price is made up of printing costs, Lulu commission, but most of all by retail commission. The retailer takes the biggest cut, they make the most money out of any book sale. The new version on Lulu is a bit cheaper, but alas, Lulu's extraordinarily greedy post and packing charges bump it up again. I suggest to anyone who has ever been put off buying a book from Lulu, because of the postage charges, that you write to them and tell them so. They fleece the authors the same way, but so far our complaints have fallen of deaf ears. Between Lulu and Amazon etc, we self-published authors have a hard time of it. :)

Anyway, I suppose I ought to get on with everyday Sunday things.

Congratulations!

2009-07-05T15:23:00.000-07:00

To the hateful person/persons, who have been filling my email inbox with disgusting messages and images of late. If your intent was to hurt and demoralise me, then well done, you've succeeded. I hope you're happy and proud.

Rabbiting

2009-06-18T01:33:00.000-07:00

The rain has stopped at last and it’s bright and sunny here today, but still chilly. So much for the hot summer that was forecast, I wanna refund from the met office. Mind you, if it were hot and sunny I’d complain about it being oppressive, like one of those old ladies you meet at bus stops who are all swaddled up in layers of cardigans and jumpers topped off with a plastic Mac and a woolly hat. They look like they’re setting off on an Artic expedition instead of just popping out to Marksy’s to shop for chilled foodstuffs. They stand there perspiring and complaining that it’s too hot while steadfastly refusing to remove a single item of clothing because it isn’t August yet and they don’t want to risk catching cold. I’ve told my sisters that if I ever, EVER, show the slightest inclination to buy a plastic Mac I want them to kill me. KILL ME NOW before I start buying frumpy open toe sandals that show off my corn plasters. My fear is not being able to stop the urge to buy a plastic Mac and other elderly accoutrements because there’s a ‘frump’ gene programmed into your DNA and one day you just find yourself in a discount shop clutching a pacamac and one of those plastic rain hats. No matter how hard you try to fight it, you’ll find yourself being inexorably drawn towards the checkouts and before you know it, you’ve bought them and you’re outside the shop as a newly fledged frumpy pensioner. Arghhhhh!

I’m blocked on the writing front. I’ve had another bad bout of depression and I just haven’t been able to gather my thoughts at all. I got down in that low place where nothing had any meaning. I haven’t done any more work on Deadlines; it’s a good job I don’t actually have a deadline or an editor breathing down my neck. Actually, I suppose that’s the disadvantage of working completely on your own, motivation can very quickly drop away. I’ve got a couple of things on the go; I just need an incentive to complete them. The Jack And Danny Chronicles are now available on Amazon, so that’s nice to see and hopefully they will attract some completely new readers. I do love Danny and Jack, they’re very silly, but were such fun to write and they remind me of a really good phase in my life. It gave me a lot of personal pleasure and satisfaction to polish the stories up, round them off and put them in book form. I can look at it sitting on my shelf, and know that it’s sitting on a few other shelves, and I then feel that all the time I spent writing wasn’t a waste, because I have a product to show for my productivity.

Must stop rabbiting. Eldest son has a bad cold and wants me to make like a Yiddish mama and heat him some chicken soup. I haven’t actually got any chicken soup so I shall have to hasten to the shops and buy a tin of Heinz. Let’s just hope I don’t come home with a plastic Mac and rain hat, oy vey!

(Gasp) In Praise Of Yahoo

2009-06-17T16:03:00.000-07:00

The highlight of my day today was speaking to a friend in New York by phone, a lady I met via Yahoo groups. She lives a world away from me, and yet I can pick up a phone and hear her voice. I love her voice, her accent. Talking to her lifted me; she understands my motivations for writing what I write. I don’t have to justify anything. Yahoo gets a lot of stick, and I deal my share of it, it often sucks, but it suddenly struck me that without Yahoo Groups, email and Geocities my life would be a whole lot smaller. I’ve conversed with people across the world, shared ideas, stories, thoughts and experiences that I never could have imagined. It has opened up my life. It has given me purpose, hope and a reason for living where other avenues have failed. I’m very sad that Geocities is closing down, and I’m grateful for all the people it, and Yahoo services, has brought me into contact with. I’ve met some in real life; some have been happy experiences, others not so happy, but they have been experiences non-the-less. I have people, especially the friend I talked with today, that I hope to actually meet with in person before I die. I’ve heard that Yahoo is in dire straits; it’s recording its dying song in commercial terms. I have often been a critic, but at this, perhaps late and more informed stage, I would also like to sound a more positive note and say, thank you, thank you for the world of possibilities you opened up to a shy and very isolated person. Yahoo is not perfect, it stinks in a lot of ways, and will probably grow in stink terms (it isn’t a charity after all and it has to make money to survive) but it has also brought about many friendships that will endure, even beyond it’s demise or evolution. And now, it being late night in the UK, I must let my pet moggies out, before they disgrace themselves. ;-)

Writer's Block v Pain Block

2009-06-10T12:18:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to write a story. I have it all visualised in my head, scene by scene. I can see my characters and the environment they exist in, I can hear their voices, their accents. However, I just can't seem to transfer it to the page. I'm not sure if it's because I'm depressed and my mental and physical energy is low, or if it's because I'm suffering with neck and back trouble and the pain is intrusive, I'm conscious of it all the time. I just can't block it.

Melodrama!

2009-05-26T03:58:00.000-07:00

I’ve lost a story, an entire, almost polished to perfection, worked my arse off on it short story. What kind of f**k**g idiot am I. I’ve somehow deleted it and I can’t get it back. All I’ve got left is a few scribbled notes. I may have to kill myself. :-(

Moon River Meanderings

2009-05-25T08:58:00.000-07:00

I’ve been badly depressed over the weekend; it’s been a struggle to do anything. I’m due to see my therapist again tomorrow, I can’t believe how quickly the week has passed, and maybe that’s contributing to the downturn in my mood. I’m supposed to be writing a timeline from age 0 to 18, highlighting particular incidents that have lodged in my memory so that we can talk about them and try to make some sense of the associated emotions. Perhaps the past is best left alone, I mean it’s not as if I can change anything by chewing it over and over, all it does is reawaken pain. What happened happened and the people who are dead remain dead and the words they said and the things they did stand immutable in time. I come away from the sessions with a renewed sense of grief that’s almost unbearable. Maybe I have to face the truth that no therapy on earth will ever help me make sense of my life, or lead to, if not happiness, then at least a kind of peace and self-acceptance. Maybe the loneliness and alienation that I’ve felt all my life is generated from within myself and has nothing to do with external influences. I can be in a roomful of people and still feel lonely and out of place. I have a flawed personality that leads me to self-torment and make hurt where none was intended, it’s the way that God created me…what a bastard! Maybe that’s another reason that discipline appeals to me, the physical pain helps reconnect me to the external world, it helps purge me of bad feelings about myself and gives me at least a temporary sense of peace, and of being forgiven.

I’ve been overhauling a piece of short fiction all day, it’s very loosely based on a past memory and of course it’s done nothing to break my low mood, especially as I’m playing Danny William’s Moon River over and over in the background. This song insists on inserting itself into quite a lot of my stories and poems, I’m not sure why, not altogether. I just know that whenever I hear it I feel a physical sense of bereavement that leaves me sick and shaky. Weird, that’s what I am.

It’s time to allow my inner Top to surface and silence Danny and do something uplifting like going out for a ten-mile jog…or maybe I’ll just have a cup of coffee and a packet of chocolate digestives.

http://fabianblack.synthasite.com/fireworks.php

But First A Cup Of Coffee

2009-05-23T07:01:00.000-07:00

I had my scan yesterday and felt really washed out and a bit depressed afterwards. It sounds daft, but having to lie perfectly still for a long period of time is really exhausting. I’m tense at the best of times, but lying in what feels like a coffin does nothing to help me relax. I chose pop rock music to listen to during my confinement, not that I heard much of it. Queen was drowned out by what sounded like an orchestra of pneumatic drills. I’m lying there with my eyes closed thinking ‘come on Freddie love, sing up, I can’t here you,’ and then I got to thinking about his life and death and what a horrible thing AIDS is and I nearly cried. He was such a wonderfully flamboyant figure. Surely it’s about time that a film was made about his life, or has it been done and I’ve missed it. Sometimes I think I live in a vacuum, I don’t know half of what goes on in the world. Too much time thinking and writing all things kinky, that’s my trouble.

Youngest son is 14 today. He’s gone off to the pictures with a few mates to watch Wolverine, taking most of my cash with him. It’s so expensive going to the pictures. There’s a lot of talk about people pirating movies, but I think the cinemas selling the tickets do most pirating. And then there’s the cost of popcorn etc, bloody hell, you could rescue a third world country from poverty for what it costs to buy popcorn and a soft drink from a cinema. I bought him an xbox 360 for his birthday. My God, I wish someone had told me how heavy the damn things are. I went into the shop where they sell them and, as instructed, picked a box off the shelf and took it to the till, saying, ‘I’ll have one of these and a selection of your most brutal, gore infested, blood drenched games please, suitable for a 14 year old of course.’ The shop guy duly got everything together and then requested an amount of money that caused my heart to stall and my credit card to break out in a sweat of fear. Anyway, once payment had been extracted, he bagged everything up and handed it over. Believe me, the display boxes bear no relation to the real thing. It weighed a ton. I could barely lift it up. I was shattered by the time I’d lugged it home on the bus.

Well, I promised myself that I was going to act like a pro writer today and do a certain number of words. I read emails from authors who say thing like, “I wrote 6,000 words at four am this morning and then allowed myself a cup of coffee before sitting down to write another 3,000." I do admire their discipline. See, I write about discipline, but I don’t have much self-discipline. I’m more likely to have 6,000 cups of coffee before sitting down to write a couple of words. ;-) I’m still working on Deadlines. The sub plot with Jude, Michael's brother, has become a bit muddled. I think I’m trying to make it more complex than it needs to be, and that’s perhaps why I’m messing around blogging instead of settling myself to writing. I’ve also got another story that I can’t seem to get on top of either, and I think it’s because I’m trying to confine it to being a short story and really it needs to be a bit more. Urgh, some days I think that writing is as much a curse/blessing as kink. I’m determined to write something to day…but first, a cup of coffee. ;-)

Noodles For Breakfast

2009-05-22T01:05:00.000-07:00

I’ll be spending an hour or so today strapped to a narrow bed in a confined space. Oooh, a bit of Friday bdsm I hear you say. No such luck. I’m going for an MRI scan. It’s my fifth, so you’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I’m not. I have to fight hard to keep panic at bay. I hate not being able to move and I hate the noises. They give you headphones so that you can listen to music, but the noise of the machinery conquers all. I bet even Susan Boyle’s voice would fail to be heard above the whirs and clanks of an NHS scanner. I suppose I should put the confinement to good use by thinking up new storylines or thinking of ways to carry existing ones forward. The trouble is that by the time I get out of the wretched contraption and get home again, I’ll have forgotten the best of them. It’s a shame they can’t MRI my thoughts and print them out on a graph for me to take home…on the other hand perhaps that’s a good thing.

My son is demanding noodles for breakfast, pot noodles, the most disgusting fast food on planet earth. He's 18 and more than old enough to handle the complexities of pouring hot water onto a pile of dehydrated worms, but no, he wants me to do it. It's my parental duty apparently.

The Curse/Blessings of Kink

2009-05-20T03:35:00.000-07:00

There are times when I wish I’d been cursed/blessed with an altogether different kind of kink. You know what I mean, something socially acceptable and possibly income accruing, such as a fetish for flower arranging. A subject you could openly discuss in front of your sisters without fear of being shunned or being locked away in a secure unit.

“And what did you do over the weekend L?”

“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary, I just visited a special friend for a discipline session…would you like to see the cane marks on my bum?”

Loud thud as sisters keel over in a dead faint.

Honestly, they have no idea. No one in my real life has a clue about my interests. At school I was voted person least likely to be kinky. You can’t explain the spanking kink to someone who just doesn’t get it. If a person isn’t wired that way then no amount of explaining will make them understand. It’s a waste of breath. Leaving aside the ‘light hearted’ connotations of kink, it’s taken me a long time to come to terms with my predilection and I don’t feel guilty about it anymore. I embrace it in my fiction, and occasionally in real life.

I need discipline in a pure sense. It isn’t a prelude to sexual activity. It’s a psychological thing. Sometimes only extreme pain can give me the release and emotional peace that I crave. I have two Dominants that I meet with, maybe once or twice a year (separately I hasten to add, I don’t go in for group therapy) they’re both male, one is younger than I am, the other is older and they’re both gentleman. Both understand the need for discipline. Both are sane and responsible and neither one of them has ever tried to take advantage of me in a sexual sense. I trust them, and that’s important. They know when I’ve had enough, even when perhaps I don’t and that’s important too, in order to avoid serious injury. It’s not just the physical discipline that counts. I like the element of control, the structure and the sense of giving myself into the care of another person, relinquishing personal control. For me a successful discipline session is almost like detox and I feel on a high for a few days afterwards. My mind is brighter and I’m more alert and attuned to the world. The worst part for me is usually two to three days later, and that’s when I get the shakes as my body uses its energy to heal itself. I feel a bit depressed, as the endorphins fade away and all I’m left with is the physical discomfort. That’s when I’d really like to have someone around to cuddle me, to hold me, someone I can emotionally relate to, someone I suppose who will take care of me. That’s the appeal of the stories I write, the submissive characters have someone there 24/7, someone who understands their needs, someone who loves them (let me hear a romantic sigh)

I’ve been told that my stories don’t contain enough sex and they’re not erotic. For me discipline (and it doesn’t have to be physical) is the element of erotica; it’s the sensual, sexual, emotional and psychological feed to the relationship of my characters. That’s what interests me a writer, why people might have a need and desire for discipline, why they might choose to incorporate it into a relationship and what form it takes, and what needs it fulfils. It isn’t all about sex.

Swifts and Ramblings

2009-05-19T01:22:00.000-07:00

The first thing I do upon rising each morning is to turn on my laptop, it’s an entrenched habit. I’ve lost sight of what I did in pre-computer days, housework probably and other mundane tasks. Though that said, turning on the computer each morning has in itself become a mundane task. I check for emails, usually my boxes are full of promo emails from various online authors. I do admire authors that can ruthlessly and unashamedly promo their own books. It’s usually American writers; they’re much less reticent about self-promotion than English writers for example. I’ve been a member of many yahoo groups over the years and most of them have been great fun and I’ve met lovely people, but I’ve joined a few lately where the atmosphere has been less than welcoming. The authors are too busy promoting their wares to want to take time to be friendly perhaps. I received a very unwelcoming email from someone who told me I wrote ‘homo trash.’ Nice eh!

The sun is shining today and the wind has dropped. I can hear the swifts calling outside. They have such a strange haunting cry. They epitomise both the beginning and the end of summer to me. I listen for them coming in the spring and feel sad when they leave in the autumn. They’re never still. They spend almost their entire lives on the wing. I started a short story almost two years ago that had swifts as a theme. It’s one of those stories where you know it has real potential, but somehow I just can’t carry it on. I just don’t seem to have the mental energy.

My youngest son keeps reminding me that it’s his birthday this coming Saturday, as if somehow I might forget. I keep telling that I know when his birthday is; after all I was there when he was born. He’ll be 14. I can’t believe it. I’ve got photos of both my sons on the wall above my desk. Childhood photographs, from school, first communions, that kind of thing, and now they’re all grown up. Some days I’m too horribly aware that my life has more yesterdays than tomorrows.

I should get ready instead of sitting here typing to myself. I have an appointment with my therapist. I’ve only met her twice before, so I’m quite nervous, I don’t feel comfortable with her yet. She’s nice, but I’m one of those people who find it difficult to communicate via the spoken word. I am reticent and very self-conscious and it takes me a while to let down my guard and trust people. Also the subject matter we’ll be discussing is distressing to me and I know I’ll cry and plough my way through several tons of paper tissues. I’ve suffered from episodes of depression my entire life with the last ten years being particularly difficult. I’ve spent almost seven years seeing a cbt therapist, which is something of a record I believe, usually you get about ten sessions. Anyway, I really liked and trusted her and I told her things that I’d never told anyone else, including psychiatrists. I have no time for psychiatrists, and very little respect. She finally got me to a point where it was felt I was mentally and emotionally strong enough to face another kind of therapy, involving looking at the past. The sessions are very intense. I go into a kind of unpleasant subspace; I’m in a completely different place. The here and now just goes out of focus, I’m aware of it, but I can’t quite connect to it and that can be dangerous. Helen, the therapist, will stop the session if she thinks I’m disassociating too much.

I must get ready, I don’t want to, but I must.

Thoughts on the M/M romance genre and on self publishing

2009-05-18T02:32:00.000-07:00

So why write M/M?

Why not. I really don't think that women writing M/M fiction is that big a deal anymore, it's nothing out of the ordinary. No one is claiming its meant to be Gay fiction in a pure sense (i.e. writings about gay experience, written by gay men for gay men) Gender switching authors are nothing new, look at the Brontes and George Eliot. Men write under female pseudonyms, women write under male pseudonyms, for various reasons, including marketing. On the whole writers write whatever ticks their box. The reasons why one female author chooses to write M/M will differ to why another chooses to do so. Perhaps the underlying motivation is voyeuristic in aspect, a M/M manifestation of the F/F scenes written by many het male authors...and no one questions them. Click the link below to read more about my own particular style of M/M:

http://www.fabianblackromance.com/introduction.php

So why self publish?

Again why not? I prefer to be in control of my own work and anyway I can't take rejection, it makes me ill. ;-) I decided to become my own publisher last year when I needed a challenge to get me through a difficult period. It’s been hard work, but I’ve enjoyed it. I've actually had some of my more mainstream writing published in magazines and I have to say that I found the whole process to be unsatisfactory. Edtitors imagine they know best, in fact eight times out of ten they don't. They're merely opinionated butchers of other people's babies. They take the lifeblood out of your work and give you back a nicely embalmed corpse. Of course brilliant editors do exist and they can give truly useful and constructive advice without robbing your work of originality and personality, but they're a rarity, at least in my experience.

There are very few, if any publishing houses that cater for the style of fiction I write. There are lots of publishers that cater for M/M erotica. However, I don't write heavy sex scenes, so my work doesn't quite fit in there. I simply don't have the skills, or interest in writing that kind of thing, love reading it, but cannot write it. My fiction is much more emotional than physical. The communities that cater for the spanking fetish tend to be almost solely dominated (no pun) by M/f scenarios and they don't want anything to do with M/M spanking fiction. So far only one respected publisher of spanking erotica has even agreed to carry a link to my pages (thank you pink flamingo publications) Bethany's woodshed won't even deign to reply to my requests to exchange links, nor do many, many others. No matter, I actually think my brand of spanking fiction is vastly superior to much of the M/f stuff that's on the market, so it's their loss not mine. ;-) I also recently applied to join the erotic authors association, but the ensuing silence seems to indicate a negative result, maybe I haven’t given it enough time. I did think that perhaps my work wouldn’t quite fit their bill, but being new to all this self promo stuff thought I’d give it a go. I wouldn’t have minded being turned down at all, if my stuff doesn’t fall within their boundaries then that’s fair enough. What I dislike is not being given the courtesy of reply. After all it was an open invite issued by the association and surely a reply to applicants, yes or no, is really only good manners.

I know that my stories are enjoyed (despite the odd grammatical glitch or overlong sentence) and I get a BIG kick out of that. i've been writing online fiction for almost eight years now and have had fan mail from all over the world. A love of slightly kinky M/M romance is universal it seems ;-) I have written under several pen names and finally settled on Fabian Black for several reasons, none of which matter.

Stress, Tears, Tarn and Twinks.

2009-05-17T03:50:00.000-07:00

I haven’t had the time or inclination for writing of any description lately. I’ve been ill with the sinus infection from hell, so painful.

On the home front exam stress is taking its toll. My eldest son is in the midst of revising for his upcoming ‘A’ levels and is uber sensitive to everything. We’re all afraid to breathe too loudly for fear of incurring an outburst. To make matters worse my youngest son got ruthlessly cast aside by his girlfriend (of three weeks duration) and it was all tears and teenaged trauma for several days. It was his first girlfriend so he’s taken the rejection very hard. I must admit to crying with him, he was SO devastated, it was heartbreaking to witness. He’s only 13, bless him.

On Friday we travelled down to Lancaster to look over the university that my son will be going to in the autumn (all being well with his exam results) it’s a massive campus and he was a bit overwhelmed by it, and by the distance of it away from home. It’s an anxious time for him really. He suffers from episodes of depression and doesn’t adapt easily to change, so there are some tough times ahead for him. I just hope he can keep it all together. We stayed overnight and had a wander around Morecambe next day. There’s a big art deco hotel on the seafront, The Midland, and for years it was all but derelict, but it’s all been done up and looks really beautiful. The weather on the way home was horrific, the heavens just opened and it took us hours to get back. The roads turned into rivers that threatened to sweep us away.

I’ve recently joined an online writing group called writing.com So far it’s been a very worthwhile exercise. I posted a couple of stories and got some feedback that was invaluable to me as a writer who really wants to grow and improve. Constructive criticism is so very difficult to give. Some people think that literary criticism is all about telling an author how much they hated or liked your work, and it isn’t. One guy, a real published author no less, ;-) just about gave me a line-by-line critique of a story and it was great. I was pleased that he thought enough of my story to want to take the time to do that. It was useful not just in the context of that one story, but for my writing in general. I got other useful feedback as well. It’s just putting it all into practice that's the problem. There aren’t enough hours in the day for serious and fun writing.

On the fun writing front, just as I think I’m ready to call time on Tarn and Twinks permanently, I get an email from someione who has found and really enjoyed the diary, so it makes me reluctant to close it down altogether. I started writing their story back in 2004 and that’s a long time, especially in this genre where novelty rules. Taking a year of journal entries and turning them into a book was a fantastic writing exercise for me. The journal was written off the cuff, just like a real diary. I never knew what I was going to produce. I’d sit down at the computer and just write what came into my head, perhaps influenced by some item on the news or something I’d observed during the day, and then of course I had to extend on it, which in itself was a good writing exercise. The part where Twinks goes missing for example, I just about wrote myself into a corner with that storyline. I had no idea where it was going. I wanted to create a cliffhanger situation…in a way I was testing for reader reaction, and I got it, lol. Making him vanish was one thing, bringing him back was quite another. :-D

Going back over the journal entries I was struck by several things, the sheer volume of work, and the number of typos and misplaced commas. I really worked hard to hone and polish it all up. There are over 300 pages in the book; there were almost 500 before I started re-editing. I expanded on some things and shortened others and completely cut some passages. I reckon it could stand another editing, and yet another, but I could go on forever doing it and really there’s no point because I’m more or less serving only myself. I’m pleased with the overall result. Tarn and Twinks as characters are very dear to me; the diary contains a lot of my emotions. It’s a personal thing and it gives me pleasure to see all that work encased in a tangible form. As we all know, websites are not guaranteed to last forever. Geocities is closing and a lot of writing will be lost. It’s sad, so many people put so much work into building personal sites and now yahoo has decided it has the right to just wipe them away. A friend of mine made a very apt analogy. She likened it to a community garden, where people are encouraged to plant and tend things and then the council decides it wants the land for something else and just comes along and tears it all up.

Another fun project I’m currently working on is a story called Deadlines. I began it a few years ago. It was then called Tales From The Stationmaster’s House. My challenge is to resolve the mystery of Jude (the brother of one of the lead characters) I have a scenario all worked out in my head, but the hard part is getting it out of my skull and onto the page, it isn’t as easy as it seems. I also want to work on the characterisation of both Joseph and Michael. By way of incentive I’ve had a book cover designed. You can see it on my website on the Coming Soon page. The lady who did it was the same one who designed the cover for Moving On. I love her work and I find that having a professionally designed cover that incorporates elements of my story actually helps me keep focussed.

On the serious writing front I’m thinking of putting together a collection of poems. I’ve been getting some encouraging reviews for the few I’ve posted on Authors Den. I’ve got hundreds, but most need work, they also need rescuing from the floppies they’re stored on, again, it’s all about time.

The Demise Of Geocities

2009-04-29T08:59:00.000-07:00

Yahoo is closing down Geocities later this summer. Exactly what that means isn't altogether clear at this point. As far as I can ascertain it means that anyone with a free website has to upgrade to a pay plan or be wiped off the face of the internet. Time will tell.

I'm a bit sad at the news really, I have never been that computer savvy, but I found Geocities realtively easy to use and I built several nice looking sites using it.

Phew...it was all a big mistake...

2009-04-15T03:06:00.000-07:00

Or so Amazon is claiming and, as Annie Lennox once said, who am I to disagree.

Personally I think they just underestimated the reaction to their cleansing policy. It's a huge mistake indeed to wipe out ratings for a certain genre of books and to place thinly veiled homophobic texts, offering healing, on GLBT pages. Those are now gone. So much for a new enlightened liberal era being ushered in under the new President. Anyway, enough of politics, of which I know absolutely nowt.

It's cold, grey and wet in Blighty today, at least in my miniscule portion of it. I'm feeling a bit depressed and under the weather, a saying that probably arose under heavy cloud cover. I haven't done a great deal of writing over the last few days. I've been transferring a lot of stuff from floppy disks onto a pen drive in order to preserve it. The disks are beginning to deteriorate. At best my method of cataloguing and organising my work might be referred to as 'disastrous.' I have multiple versions of stories and poems and none of them properly dated and arranged. It's all a mess and really I need to make a serious effort to sort it all out, but I can't be bothered.

I've been trying to put some of my poems (and I use the term loosely) onto a new site. They have a certain emotional power if not actually a form that would pass the scrutiny of the poet purists. http://www.dustandshadow.synthasite.com

I've been pleased and surprised to have some good reviews for my poetry on Authors Den: http://www.authorsden.fabianblack/

Although I do love writing M/M discipline fiction, sometimes I vaguely regret getting into it. I perhaps should have concentrated on developing my writing in a more mainstream direction. A lot of people who read and indeed write 'spanking' fiction of any description, let alone M/M, are a bit embarrassed by their kink and therefore don't afford it any kind of respect. They don't mind taking it for free and anonymously, but few would walk into Borders and buy it off the shelf. Discipline fiction is a kind of underground thing, people gather in shuttered rooms to exchange it, or at least they meet up on Yahoo groups. :-) I used to be involved in a few groups and at the time I loved it, it was a lot of fun and I met some really lovely people, but in the end it all became a bit of a thankless treadmill and I wasn't getting anything out of it. I needed to move in a different direction and that's why I got into self-publishing. It offered me several challenges: to learn the whole process of layout and publishing and to improve my writing. I took a refresher course in creative writing and made a concerted effort to improve my technique without sacrificing my style. I get a real kick out of seeing my work in book form. It makes all the weeks and months of labour worthwhile, and it makes me feel that the time spent writing wasn't wasted and at least it won't just vanish overnight when the web crashes. There's been a certain flow of criticism from some readers regarding the direction I've taken my writing in. I'm truly sad and sorry about that, but I don't regret moving on (to parody one of my own titles) I needed to do it for my own sake and maybe for the sake of other writers in this genre who don't think their work is deserving of respect simply because of its subject matter. I'm hoping to achieve a wider audience for a genre of work that I feel has merit.

Well, that was a longer post than I intended and a bit rambly, but never mind. :)

Homophobic Amazon?

2009-04-13T02:20:00.000-07:00

It seem that Amazon, arguably one of the biggest book sellers on planet earth, has begun operating a policy that effectively discriminates against GLBT literature. It's stripping rankings from what it calls 'Adult' books. It seems that many GLBT themed books, fiction and non-fiction fall into this category and are having their rankings and searchability 'culled.' However, books with explicit content of a heterosexual nature are seemingly not affected.

This is a worrying state of affairs.

Visit this site for more details:

http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/in-protest-at-amazons-new-adult-policy\

Easter Sunday and Egg Jarping

2009-04-12T09:03:00.000-07:00

As promised the sun did indeed shine today. It's been lovely, very bright and spring like. I had guests over so I've been busy cooking a big Easter Sunday lunch with Turkey and all the trimmings. It was nice.

For the first time ever I won the paste egg jarping contest. Jarping on Easter Sunday is a tradition in my family. I have no idea where its origins lay, but according to an aunt it's something that dates back centuries and there once used to be public contests with prizes for the owner of the champion egg. Jarping is a bit like conkers, only eggs are used instead of conkers. The eggs are hard boiled and dyed using red onion skins to give them an attractive deep garnet colour. Each contestant chooses an egg and then the jarping begins. Basically it involves one person holding their boiled egg with the rounded side up, their opponent then uses the pointed end of their egg to strike it and then vice versa. The winner is the person whose egg has least or preferably no damage to the shell. They then take on all other comers. It's very silly, but fun. My egg took five hits and gave five hits without so much as a crack in the shell.

For some reason the 'c' key on my laptop won't work unless I hit it at a certain angle, it's very annoying.

I've got a couple of stories that I should be working on, but the muse isn't cooperating today, it's probably worn out with cooking etc, so I think I'll just go and put my feet up and read for a while.

There's a great entry all about Easter in Tarn Swan's Diary:

The Easter message from our devotee read: ‘the wicked shall not profit by their sin. The time for retribution draws nigh.’ Twinkles gave a great big grin and flinging his arms forgivingly around my neck said that he and Lulu had profited very nicely from sin. Lulu with his commission and he by winning the crown and the prizes that went with it. On the downside, they’d both ended up getting retribution from me. He said he was sorry and he knew I was only annoyed because I cared for him. I kissed him and then shoved the note out of sight. It’s really rather disturbing how almost blasé we’re becoming about them. I suppose it’s a survival mechanism. Easter ended very pleasurably with a packet of Cadbury’s chocolate buttons and a couple of Crème eggs…mmmm…homemade body paint is so better than the ready bought variety, it’s sticky and messy, but fun!

Best wishes,

Fabian Black

Happy Easter

2009-04-11T02:15:00.000-07:00

A happy and peaceful Easter weekend to all, or whatever you celebrate at this lovely time of year. It's cool and overcast in my part of England as I write, but the forecasters have promised that the sun will shine eventually. I like Easter time, I always feel a sense of hope, whether it's a leftover from the days when religion was meaningful to me or whether it's to do with the weather getting warmer and nature beginning to stir I don't know, and I don't suppose it matters.

If you're having a break this weekend and you're looking for something to read then how about trying some of the following shorts:

Cat Flap: A Luke and Trevor story. Trevor regrets neglecting Luke in favour of work. Luke's joke does not go down well.