Saturday, September 27, 2014

My Sexy Saturday: Meet Cobey and Michael from Artistic Endeavor

Welcome to the blog of Whitley Gray—cops and doctors in hot water. And My Sexy Saturday! Here are seven sentences from the novella Artistic Endeavor, part of the Higher Learning: Campus Cravings collection. This is the first kiss…
More. As Michael deepened the kiss further his pulse thundered in his ears, making him lightheaded as he got every taste he could. Cobey gave a soft moan and clutched at Michael’s shirt, pulling them together. With a stroke and thrust, Cobey explored Michael’s mouth.

No wonder those other guys had jumped Cobey.

This was no ordinary kiss. This was a prelude to bigger and sweatier things. Things that would be much more enjoyable without a gearshift in the way. His jeans were too tight, and it took everything he had not to discover whether Cobey was experiencing the same.


Artistic Endeavor is available as part of the Campus Cravings collection available at Amazon   Barnes and Noble

More about Artistic Endeavor:

When friends ask one-night stand connoisseur Michael Esteban to introduce college professor and virgin Cobey Miller to the joys of sex, Michael balks. Lust is his thing, not leading a twenty-five year old novice. But shy Cobey has problems meeting men, and their introduction fuels Michael’s decision to help Cobey become a gay-sex-loving guy. It’ll all be fun and games—unless someone falls in love.

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Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Behind the Book: SC Wynne's Damaged Heart

I was trying to think what inspired me to write Damaged Heart. I tend to like damaged characters, and social misfits. I’m drawn to write and read about people who struggle to try and be normal, and find love when they themselves are wounded by their upbringing. I like to write these characters and then show them a way out.
My childhood and adolescence had a lot of drama and angst. Not to the extreme degree that my characters tend to grapple with, but most definitely it shaped my psyche in a way that has never left me. It made me guarded and untrusting.

I went through plenty of relationships where people hurt me or I hurt them. I played a lot of games when I was younger, never really wanting to get too close to people. I still find it hard to be really open with others until I feel I can a hundred percent trust them.

Ultimately I found a partner who accepts me as I am; someone who loves me unconditionally, quirks and all. That’s something my characters will always find as well. I think happy endings are essential for romance stories. At the very least HFN.

I’m so happy to be able to create these characters and tell their stories to the readers out there. Writing, and especially writing M/M, is one of the most enjoyable, satisfying things I’ve ever done.
He picked up the boy and held him in a relaxed manner. The miniature monster apparently didn’t freak him out in the least. “He looks like Lydia’s kid.” The hunk looked around the restaurant and called out to a waitress. “Is this Tyler?”
“What’s he doing out of his playpen? I’ll get Lydia.” The waitress disappeared into the back area.
“You know, he doesn’t bite,” the stranger said, studying me. The kid was trying to slap the man’s cheeks, and he avoided the child’s hands deftly.
“I know for a fact he has teeth. I saw them both,” I said, trying to regain some composure. It wasn’t easy with him standing so close to me. His blue jeans hugged his strong legs, and he smelled like fresh air and confidence. I wondered if his self-assurance would slip any if I flirted with him.
“Names Rhys Tucker.” He held out his hand.
I hesitated briefly before taking it. His skin was as warm and firm as I’d imagined, and my stomach had a little visit from some butterflies. “Cory Johnson.”
There was obvious recognition in his gaze, but then it was gone. “I knew that was you. We went to school together.”
“Did we?” I was certain I’d have remembered him. Though my school days were a depressing blur, I should recall knowing someone like Rhys.
“Briefly. You left a couple of months after I arrived.” He swallowed, and for the first time he looked nervous. Well, not as nervous as me, but I would take what I could get. “I was the new kid in town. Some of the other students were assholes to me, but you were different. You were kind.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Are you back for good?” He adjusted the cooing kid in his arms.
I shook my head. “Oh, God no.”
He frowned. “Not a fan of Bayville?”
I shrugged. “I prefer LA.” Obviously he’d had a different experience than I had growing up here.
A plump woman, who I assumed was Lydia, came hurrying up to us, her worried gaze locked on the child. “Tyler, you’re driving me nuts.” She took him from Rhys and laughed. “I’m sorry. I think he’s part monkey.”
“No, it’s fine. He didn’t hurt anything,” Rhys answered her. “He’s grown a bunch since I last saw him.”
Lydia hefted the kid on her hip and sighed. “He’s a handful; that’s for sure.” She turned her apologetic gaze on me. “I’m sorry if he interrupted your meal.”
What could I say, Thank you for that; he was pretty annoying? I decided to be polite instead. “It’s fine. You might want to get him a piece of bread. He seemed fixated on mine.”
“Yeah, he loves the carbs. That’s probably why he’s so huge.” She grinned and wandered away.
I kept silent, and Rhys met my stare, continuing to stand near me. Even with all the patrons in the bright little dining room, I had an odd compulsion to run my hand up his firm, jean-clad thigh. I wasn’t the kind of person who picked people up in restaurants, but I couldn’t help wishing I was more assertive that way. It might have been nice to have someone like him for a diversion while I was stuck here, but odds were he was straight.
“You must have kids. You seemed so relaxed with that little…boy.” I’d almost said creature.
“I don’t have kids. But I would love to one day.” He laughed, and the warmth of it washed over me. “I’m going to take a wild guess you aren’t yearning for a child of your very own.”
I grimaced. “Not really.”
For some reason he wasn’t leaving. He just kept hovering, and I was having the oddest reaction to his nearness. It almost felt like hunger. I racked my brain; how would a normal person behave? Would it be weird to ask him to join me? I enjoyed a flash fantasy of touching his hands, so near to me, and stroking the fine, dark hairs on his wrist. Instead, I sipped my soup self-consciously.
“So, you said you’re not staying permanently. But how long are you going to be here?” he asked, apparently in no hurry to get away.
“I’ll be here a couple of weeks for sure. Maybe longer. My mother passed, and I’m seeing about selling the house and things like that.”
“Yeah, I heard about your mom. My condolences.”
I didn’t say anything. I’m sure that wasn’t the normal response, but I couldn’t seem to drum up feelings on the matter. Or maybe I had too many feelings, and I wasn’t capable of processing them on the spot. I only knew she’d made my life a living hell. When I thought of her, it wasn’t grief that surged; it was anxiety mixed with resentment. I was a grown man, but if I was honest with myself, her death gave me a tiny bit of relief. She couldn’t hurt me anymore. I don’t know, maybe that made me seem odd, or heartless, but the awful reality was we hadn’t cared about each other when she was alive, so why start pretending now?
“Do you know when the funeral will be?” he asked.
I had a momentary thrill at the idea of running into him again, but unless I was going to hold a fake burial, there would be no opportunity for that. “She’s being cremated.”
He nodded. “Will you still have a memorial service of some sort?”
I guess that was what the average son would do, hold a poignant service and invite all our friends and family to wax poetic about what a wonderful wife and mother she’d been. However, we didn’t have any friends or family anywhere that I knew of. But most importantly Beatrice Johnson had been a horrible, heartless bitch of a woman, and there was no fucking way I would spend another dime or moment of my life on her memory. Not exactly something I was going to share with Rhys.
“No.” It was, after all, the truth.
Fortunately his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out before sliding his thumb along its face. “Work, sorry.” He smiled, looking back to me. “It was great seeing you again, Cory. Hopefully I’ll see you around before you leave.” His voice was like velvet, and he started to say something else but stopped. Then he smiled and walked away and out of the restaurant.
BUY:  Loose Id   Amazon
S.C. Wynne started writing m/m in 2013 and did look back once. She wanted to say that because it seems everyone's bio says they never looked back and, well S.C. Wynne is all about the joke. She loves writing m/m and her characters are usually a little jaded, funny and ultimately redeemed through love.
S.C loves red wine, margaritas and Seven and Seven's. Yes, apparently S.C. Wynne is incredibly thirsty. S.C. Wynne loves the rain and should really live in Seattle but instead has landed in sunny, sunny, unbelievably sunny California. Writing is the best profession she could have chosen because S.C. is a little bit of a control freak. To sit in her pajamas all day and pound the keys of her laptop controlling the every thought and emotion of the characters she invents is a dream come true.
If you'd like to contact S.C. Wynne she is amusing herself on Facebook at all hours of the day or you can contact her at

Saturday, September 13, 2014

My Sexy Saturday #59: Meet Beck and Zach from High Concept

Welcome to the blog of Whitley Gray—cops and doctors in hot water. And My Sexy Saturday! Here are seven paragraphs from the book High Concept, the first time Beck and Zach get intimate...
The exploration paused as Zach unbuttoned Beck’s shirt and pushed it off. The cool air of the room raised goose bumps, and a pleasurable shiver waltzed over his skin. Under Zach’s hands, the gentle inspection continued, and as Zach’s fingertips reached the scars covering his shoulder, Beck let out a shuddering breath. “’S okay. Doesn’t hurt.”

On this puckered skin, Zach’s touch brought a mix of pleasure and pain, like the agony before orgasm. Beck huffed a breath. Who knew that hypersensitivity could be erotic? Or was that because it was Zach’s hands on him? No one got to see the damage, never mind touch. Hell, Beck didn’t like to see the patchwork of skin and scar overlaying his joint and chest.

With an aching sweetness, Zach kissed the thick pink landscape of the scar, traced his tongue along the margins. And Beck melted. In the face of this tender care, all his reserve, his refusal to feel something other than lust, evaporated. As Zach kissed along his collarbone, soft hair tickled Beck’s throat, the strands carrying an echo of lemongrass aftershave. For a moment, the other man paused and rested his ear below the scars.

Oh, God. He’d hear how Beck’s heart was beating like a bass drum.

“Come here,” Beck whispered. He bit the sensitive area between Zach’s neck and shoulder, and Zach groaned. Beck soothed the mark with his tongue. He made quick work of the buttons on Zach’s shirt and pushed it off, revealing a sprinkling of blond hair.

Zach’s questing hands unbuckled Beck’s belt, slid to the base of his spine, and journeyed beneath his boxers, stroked the bare skin of his ass. Desire amped up. This was it—the need they’d ignored the last few days, circling each other, wanting but not acting. Beck ground their hips together, stiff cocks dueling through their clothing. The scrape on Beck’s cheek, the pain in his ribs meant nothing. Fucking had first priority.

He clutched Zach’s taut ass, kneading through the layers of clothing, gratified at the jut of the hard cock against his own. A sharp pinch on his left butt cheek made him jump, and Zach’s tongue thrust between his lips, bringing more of that unique taste. Intoxicating, these kisses, and it had nothing to do with the sweet remnant of spearmint flavoring Zach’s mouth.

HIGH CONCEPT is available at Loose Id,   AllRomance Ebooks, and Amazon.

More about High Concept:

Denver homicide cop and shooting survivor Beck Stryker lives to solve the case that left him with PTSD, chronic pain, and killed his co-investigator four months previous. Now his career hinges on his ability to work with the man who shut down his advances two years ago.

After last parting ways with Beck, psychiatrist-turned-FBI profiler Zach Littman never anticipated seeing the detective again. Being sent to Denver to work on a series of killings that have continued after the only suspect died is bad enough. Discovering the detective in charge is Beck leaves Zach gritting his teeth and girding his loins.

The last thing either of them needs is romantic entanglement with a fellow investigator, but danger is a powerful aphrodisiac. The case heats up, and friction between them ignites a fire neither can ignore, first at work and then in the bedroom. As they zero in on the plot behind the murders, the crosshairs zero in on Beck and Zach.

Whitley Gray

LINK BACK to My Sexy Saturday for more great snippets!

My Sexy Saturday


Monday, September 1, 2014

Fabulous Five Blog Post: What’s Your Writing Style?

I was invited by Sarah Madison to take place in the Fabulous Five Author Blog Hop. The idea is to answer a set of questions and tag more authors to do the same. The hardest part of the challenge has been finding someone who isn’t already doing this! The best part, however, has been reading what everyone is working on and what their writing process is like. So here I go!

1.  What am I working on?
Usually, I work on more than one project at a time. The big one right now is the second High Concept book, featuring Beck and Zach from HC-I. The guys battle the trials of a long-distance relationship and become entangled in the twisted machinations of a serial killer. Xav-D is back in a more prominent role.
The other main project is a contemporary Valentine’s story, but it’s not all wine and roses—more sour grapes and thorns!
I have another mystery/suspense roughed out, which features a veterinarian. I’m going to be picking Sarah Madison’s brain for details!

2.   How does my work differ from others of its genre?
I’d say the biggest difference is the ages of the characters. Most of the time I prefer the guys be thirty-plus years old. Other than flashbacks, the youngest character I’ve written to date is twenty-five. For me, it helps that the men have been around the block a few times and gotten knocked around—life has left its mark on them.
Another difference—I often write medical characters, drawing on my own background. It’s my version of “write what you know.” Nothing to date has exclusively medical characters—that might be a bit much. Part of the fun of writing is researching other professions. Among what I’ve written to date: a fireman, a chocolatier, an architect, an art professor, and a graphic artist.

3.   Why do I write what I do?
In a nutshell, I love men. I started out writing M/F and figured out right away I identified more with the male character. Then I was introduced to Josh Lanyon (ie, the gateway drug) and M/M. It was like a homecoming—two men. What could be better? It seems more natural to write a couple of guys than a guy and a gal, and I enjoy it a lot more.

4.   How does my writing process work?
I don’t know if I can explain it well. It starts with an idea, usually in the form of a character. In my recent release Artistic Endeavor, it started with a question: what if a guy grew up hiding his orientation because of his family’s religious beliefs and attending parochial school? What if that hiding had to continue through a Catholic college education and master’s degree? What if at age twenty-five the guy finally escaped, only to find he had no idea how to go about meeting men?
I’m a plotter at the beginning—I make a fluid outline of what I want the story to be—sort of like a synopsis. Then as I write, it’s something of a pantsing experience. The actual scenes take shape, sometimes in different locations, sometimes with different characters. As things change I have to go back and tweak the parts that came before.
For contemporary, I write from start to finish—chronologically. Occasionally if flashbacks play a prominent role, I write these first.
I find mystery/suspense requires a different approach and a lot of work. These books are not written chronologically; the main plot points and twists come first, and then are strung together with bridging material so they make sense. The more complicated the plot, the harder it is.

5. Where can you find my work? Look for Artistic Endeavor, part of the Campus Cravings bundle!

So there you have it! Now I’m going to some fabulous authors to answer the same questions next week on their own blogs and tag more authors themselves. And so on, and so on. Sometime during the second week of September, check out the blogs of KyAnn Waters, Mia Downing, and Annabeth Albert and find out who they are tagging, too!