Friday, October 25, 2013

Russian Cops Gay Porn; FREE Give-Away FREE Excerpt

Russian Cops; Gay Porn

Evidently, the treatment of gays gets even worse in Russia than what we read about in mainstream headlines. According to this article in Gay Star News, Russian cops were recently fired for filming gay prison porn scenes and what sounds like the alleged exploitation of prisoners and gay men. According to another article, two films were made, on cell phones, and uploaded online. One involved a drunken prisoner, the other a gay rape scene.

On both occasions, the officers were stood filming the scenes on their phones.

You can read more here.

The officers were fired last year, and charged with negligence and illegal production of pornographic materials, punishable with up to two years in prison.

However, they eventually got away with fines of between 25,000 rubles and 45,000 rubles ($790 and $1,420), the report said.

And more here.

It's hard to comment on this because there are so many different angles. But I do think it's interesting that there's a market for this kind of gay exploitation in Russia and I can't help wondering if that has something to do with the fact that the Russian government treats gays so poorly. In other words, the more taboo something is the more in demand it usually becomes. Frankly, I'd like to know more of the back story. But I doubt we'll get anything in detail on this topic from Russia.

FREE Give-Away FREE Excerpt

I'll be posting about a free give-away I'm doing this weekend with a romance marketing company, Personalized Marketing. It's actually a blog hop called Fall Into Romance, but I hate to call these things hops because they tend to freak readers out. It's really just a way for readers to get a chance to win a few prizes. All you have to do is check for my post later this evening and follow a few simple directions. There's also going to be an early bird contest today to win something for free. Read more to find out how to win a free e-book today.

From my inbox:

Early Bird Prize Contest...

Personalized Marketing is giving one lucky person who comments today only a choice of a Free eBook from one of the Guest List below. To be entered all you have to do is Comment today Oct 25th with the name of your Choice of Author and the Title you love the most!

The winner of the Early Bird will be announced the last day of the Blog Hop.. Good Luck and Have Fun!

As far as I know, and I didn't know about this early bird contest until a minute ago, you can click this link, leave a comment, and choose an author of your choice for a chance to win a free e-book. It's really a bonus prize for readers and no one knew about it until just this morning.

I'll keep updating, and look for my post later this evening about the main contest where I'll be giving away two free e-books from the Bad Boy Billionaire series. (Those books are also subject to change if the winner has already read them...it happens and I'm flexible about those things :)

Free Excerpt: Glendora Hill's Sheriff and the Outlaw

This is from the first book in the new western romance series I'm doing for ravenous romance that's going to be set in the fictional Texas Hill Country town of Glendora Hill. The series, unlike any other I've done in the past, will have books that focus on the little town of Glendora Hill, and each book will be told from a different POV by one of the characters who live in Glendora Hill. This first book, The Sheriff and the Outlaw, is coming from Sebastian Holt's POV. He's a recently widowed young gay man, with a teenage son, very little money, and he's trying to start a new life in Glendora Hill on a limited budget. Many characters will be reappearing in each book. This excerpt, unlike most I post here on the blog, has been through one round of edits, but it's still in revision.

 Chapter Seven

On the Friday of Labor Day weekend, a dozen more round boxwoods arrived at nine in the morning from a local nursery. Sebastian was walking Kick to the front door at the time, and when he saw the nursery truck pull up to the curb he groaned, put his arm around Kick, and said, “I’m not looking forward to doing that today in this heat.” He also wasn’t looking forward to paying for the boxwoods either. His funds were running low and he knew he shouldn’t have ordered more shrubs until the saddle shop was open and money was coming in. But everything in Glendora Hill was so perfect and manicured he didn’t want his place to look dowdy. He’d even repainted the white porch swing one more time that week so it would be brighter and shinier than the others in town.

          “If you want to wait, Dad, I can do it when I get home from work tonight,” Kick said. This was the last weekend before school started that Kick would be working full time at the hardware store. After that, he would work part time, on weekends and a few days after school, which would mean his paycheck would be less. He’d been saving his paycheck at the local bank all summer, in a savings account Sebastian had encouraged him to start as a college fund. One of the things Dan and Sebastian had discussed before Dan’s death was that they both wanted Kick to go to college and make something of his life. Sebastian was determined to steer Kick in that direction no matter what it took.

          “I thought you were going to the movies again tonight with your friends,” Sebastian said, watching the older man remove the most perfect boxwoods he’d seen yet. At least he was getting his money’s worth. They were identical to the shrubs he’d already planted along the front porch.  

          “I don’t have to go,” Kick said. “I can hang around here with you tonight and plant these. I don’t mind.”

          Sebastian pulled Kick closer and said, “I want you to go out and have fun tonight. This is the last weekend before school starts. Trust me, you won’t be having that much fun a week from now. Besides, I don’t have that much to do anyway. I just dread digging holes in this heat.” There had been a heat wave passing through all week. It was supposed to break that night, and Sebastian was hoping the weather reports were accurate. The grand opening for the saddle shop was tomorrow and although the shop was air conditioned, he’d planned several of the events outside in the driveway under a huge white tent he’d rented.

          “You sure?” Kick said.

          Sebastian gave him a push forward and smiled. “Get moving or you’ll be late. I’ll see you later this evening.”

          Kick hugged him fast and started down the sidewalk. As he crossed the street, he sent Sebastian a glance and waved.

          “Have a good day,” Sebastian shouted, and then he went down to meet the guy from the nursery.

          After he paid the man, he went around back to get the wheel barrow and shovel from the garage. There was a small pile of mulch next to the side door of the garage that had been left over from the previous plantings out front. He was glad he’d ordered a few extra yards of mulch just in case. The pile next to the door looked to be just the right amount needed to finish the boxwoods that would flank both sides of the front walkway.

          This time he decided to wear gloves instead of using his bare hands. The last time he’d planted something he hadn’t worn them and the blisters on his palms lasted for over a week. He knew he’d seen a few old pairs of gardening gloves in the garage somewhere when he’d been placing his uncle’s personal belongings in storage, only he didn’t remember exactly where he’d seen them.

          He rummaged around the dusty old garage, pushing spider webs away, making mental notes about how this mess of a garage would be the next project he would tackle.  But when he shoved a few old terra cotta pots on a shelf to one side, he spotted a black shoebox with a white label taped to the side that read, “Sebastian.” The gardening gloves were on top of the old shoebox and he was surprised he hadn’t noticed the box earlier. He must have been too busy cleaning up to see it. So much of that summer had become a blur because he’d been so eager to get everything in order.

          He pulled the shoebox and the gloves off the shelf and sat down on a wooden stool next to a stack of boxes that contained mostly old clothing that had belonged to his uncle. He’d planned to donate them to the Methodist church in town, but not until he went through all the pockets. Then he removed the lid from the box and gaped as he looked inside. It seemed to be filled with old photos of him that he never even knew he’d posed for. They were photos of him from the time he started kindergarten until the day he graduated from high school. All of them had something written on the back that stated where they had been taken, the date they had been taken, and Sebastian’s age at the time they’d been taken. As Sebastian glanced from photo to photo, as if viewing a consolidated version of his childhood, he remained gutted and slack-jawed.

          Sebastian knew his parents hadn’t taken these photos and sent them to his uncle. First, they didn’t speak to the uncle, and second, his parents never took more than one or two photos of him in his life. They’d always been the practical types: they took photos at major life events like graduations and weddings, and not even then most of the time. But never photos of him playing in swings or running onto the baseball field when he’d been in Little League.

          At the very bottom of the box, Sebastian gasped and shook his head. The photos of him continued through his adult years. There were photos of him with Dan and Kick playing catch outside their trailer in Houston. There were photos of him with Dan and Kick putting up a trellis in a small section of property behind the trailer that caused Sebastian’s eyes to sting. The memory of that afternoon overwhelmed him to the point where he had to stop and take a deep breath. Most of the photos of his life with Dan were digital, and the few he did have he wasn’t in because he’d been taking the photos of Dan and Kick.

          When he finally viewed the last photo in the box, he returned it to the box, closed the lid, and set it on a large cardboard box so he would remember to bring it into the house when he was finished planting the shrubs. But he sat there for a few minutes trying to figure out why his uncle had taken those photos, and why he’d kept them hidden in a shoebox all these years.

          While he was digging and planting the shrubs, he realized inheriting the property in Glendora Hill hadn’t been an accident. If his uncle had been watching him from a distance all those years, he’d known what he was doing when he left everything in his estate to Sebastian. Although he dreaded the thought of doing this, he would have to phone his parents at the ranch to see if they knew anything. He figured they would be the only people who might have a clue.

          But he had too many other things to deal with that Friday, and digging shrubs was more important than digging up the past. By the time he finished spreading a final layer of mulch around the last boxwood with a rusted old pitchfork, he heard a car pull up to the curb and a man said, “Looking good.”

          He turned and smiled before he even knew who it was. When he saw the sheriff smiling back at him, he said, “I do my best, sheriff.” He was only wearing a pair of basketball shorts and running shoes because of the heat. He had a feeling the sheriff was looking at everything but the shrubs he’d just planted.

          “Not bad for an outlaw,” the sheriff said. “And you can call me Avery. Sheriff makes me sound so much older and meaner.”

          Sebastian doubted the man had a mean cell in his entire body. He stuck the pitchfork in the grass and said, “And you can call me Sebastian instead of outlaw. That makes me sound shady and sinister.”

          Avery smiled and shook his head. “I have a feeling you can be sinister when you want to be.”

          Sebastian could tell by his tone he was joking. “I have my moments. Will I see you tomorrow at the grand opening? It wouldn’t be the same without the local sheriff here.”

          Avery put the car in gear and said, “Oh, you can count on it.” Then he tipped his cowboy hat, hit the gas, and made a U-turn toward the other end of town.







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