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The Romance Reviews is celebrating their first birthday with games and contests.
Today, you can earn extra points toward winning by demonstrating your knowledge of my recent release, Dharma Café.
Go to the contest page and scroll down to find a question I've posed about the book, and then come back here to find the answer.
Good Luck!
Eep! I forgot to post the excerpt from The Rosas of Spanish Harlem that Johnny Miles so thoughtfully provided. Here it is, and it's a steamy one, so remember, by clicking the link below, you are affirming that you are eighteen years of age or older.
Continue reading "Guest Post with Johnny Miles, Part 2: An Interlude with the Rosas" »
I'm so pleased to be hosting the one and only Johnny Miles here today. We're celebrating the release of Johnny's book, The Rosas of Spanish Harlem, with a thoughtful and moving essay from him about the allure and danger of bad boys.
First, a bit about Johnny's book:
Blurb:
It’s summer of 1977 and sex is on Tracy McCarthy’s mind. He’s now 18 and hell-bent on losing his virginity when he spots Angel on the beach. After discovering restroom sex — and meeting the handsome Latino Angel Rosa again — Angel invites Tracy up to Spanish Harlem for more.
When Tracy makes the long trek by subway up to Spanish Harlem, he’s exposed to a vibrantly different way of living; one filled with spicy foods, rhythmic music, and sexually-charged men. Along the way, however, the waif-like, cross-dressing young man also discovers that on the path to finding what he seeks, dark and disturbing dangers lurk — in the minds of men, walking the streets, and in the hallways of Spanish Harlem tenements.
Growing up always contains surprises but will Tracy like the ones he finds on the way?
The Rosas of Spanish Harlem is available now from Loose Id:
http://www.loose-id.com/The-Rosas-of-Spanish-Harlem.aspx
Deep and Dark
An Essay by Johnny Miles
Once upon a time, in high school, I had a crush on a bad boy. His name was Danny. He was a Puerto Rican from the Bronx with an incredibly thick head of jet black hair that he wore in a shag, layered cut. He was perfectly formed: from his caramel colored skin, to his smooth chest — yes, I saw him naked from behind in the locker room once — and his amazingly round, perfectly plump, hairless ass. His legs, which were hairy, were solid pillars of muscled flesh. If ever a boy had been granted the gift of a man’s body, it was surely this beautiful creature with his innocent smile. To me, he was like the Greek statues of naked men I’d see in the art history books.
Danny was also deep, dark, and mysterious, and I was his from the moment his eyes looked into mine and he tossed me that odd, quirky yet knowing smile. Come to think of it, that was probably only because of the way I drooled, stuttered, or suddenly became clumsy whenever he drew near.
We shared a few classes together and he was friendly to me but that was pretty much the extent of it. No matter how hard I tried to please him or fit into his circle of friends, I couldn’t get close enough. Since I couldn’t have him, I at least wanted to be in his presence and bask in his glow! Yes, I knew one girl was rumored to have had an abortion. Yes, I knew for a fact another girl transferred schools because of him. Yes, I knew countless other girls had been left with broken hearts. But you see, in my heart I knew Danny was mine. Why else would he smile at me the way he did? Why else would he clap me on the shoulder and squeeze real hard -- making me swoon…yes, swoon! -- as he put on the puppy dog eyes and told me some tale of woe as to why he couldn’t be in class, and could I please, please, pretty please with cream and sugar on top, let him copy my class notes?
Who could say no to that kind of charm?
I wanted him to do to me whatever it was he was doing with them, no matter how much it hurt, no matter what he put me through.
Once, as I was coming out a classroom, I saw Danny walking down the hallway towards me. I still remember as if it were yesterday. He walked as if in slow motion, like he didn’t have another class to get to. My breath caught as he grinned from ear to ear. But as he approached, I noticed a girl under each arm. They carried his books -- as well as their own -- giggling like hyenas, as if Danny had just told the most amusing story.
His gaze caught mine as they walked by and he winked. He actually winked!
At night, I’d dream of him and place my pillows alongside my body, pretending Danny was lying next to me. We’d have long, wonderfully witty conversations in my head and one night, while the group Exile sang “I Wanna Kiss You All Over” on the radio, I just knew it was our song and I cried on the faux Danny pillow chest.
The truth is that Danny only approached or was super friendly to me when he needed something. He was never mean, mind you. He was never a horrible person. He never called me names; at least, not to my face. But if all the girls I heard speak of him were to be believed, Danny was nothing short of a dick. The walking embodiment of a heavenly angel with the soul of a demon.
Bad boys come in all sizes, shapes, and colors. The bad boy phenomenon is not restricted to race, culture or ethnic background, though it seems I’ve met more than my share with Latin men.
The bad boy thing also has nothing to do with their finances, although I’ve known a few guys with money who thought they were the second coming as well as complete assholes.
Sometimes you can just tell who they are. You can smell out a bad boy in a crowd. They stand a certain way, they have a certain look. They might have a sneer or an air about them. They can come off as being deep and dark.
And other times, like with Danny, bad boys are sweet and innocent looking. Well-mannered. They’re seemingly unaware of their own danger or the path you’re willing to take, just so you can have the tiniest piece of them.
But we all know where that path leads. Being possessed and consumed by them.
Judging from my personal experience, bad boys were usually wild in bed. They knew how to work it and were always in trouble. They had little, if any, regard for regular convention, gave no thought to the needs of another, and had a devil-may-care attitude that made my blood boil.
Sex was almost always about them. About their needs, their pleasure. It was never about mine. And yet there were a few times where I was too weak to say no. I went back to experience the joy and rapture of having their attention. Of being used. Then morning came or they’d fall asleep and I’d slink back home, usually crying, and reeking of sweat, sex, and shame.
It took many years before I could exorcise the majority of my demons. I’m still working on some of them but, for the most part, the more harmful ones have been laid to rest, among them the desire to be possessed and used by a manboy. For me, I think it was the self-esteem — as broken as a bird’s wing — that kept me from flying away from the rotten stink of self-absorption. Now that I’m older and, hopefully, a bit more self-assured I’m not as prone to the wiles of a bad boy. I’m less vulnerable. But I’ll make this confession to you. Every once in a while I’ll see one bop along and think, “Woof! There goes trouble.” Or, more than likely, “I’d love to break that one!”
The craving and longing will always be there. Now at least, I can recognize it for what it is. Of course, I’m no expert but I do believe that those of us with obsessive tendencies, with addictive behaviors, experience some sort of chemical reaction in the brain and body, much like the sensations we feel when confronted with a craving.
In a way, the bad boy in my latest release, “The Rosas of Spanish Harlem,” was modeled after Danny. Angel Rosa is a beautiful, sexy Puerto Rican who lives in Spanish Harlem. He’s perfectly formed, dangerously charismatic, and oozes sex appeal. He’s definitely straight and loves girls but he also knows the score. He’s been around the block and will take head from a guy if the opportunity presents itself, and it does. In the shape of Tracy McCarthy, an 18-year-old crossdressing caucasian virgin boy who’s set his sights on Angel after a chance encounter at the beach.
Tracy seeks out Angel in a trip to Spanish Harlem, hoping to fulfill his fantasy of being taken and thus finally being rid of his virginity. Tracy also meets Angel’s brother, William; a man he never expected and soon desires even more than Angel.
But Tracy also meets Robinson Rosa, the father, and a man who is as richly disturbing as he is arousing. Tracy winds up walking down a very dangerous path that he might not be able to handle.
“The Rosas of Spanish Harlem” is one of the darkest and grittiest stories I’ve ever written. It’s definitely not a “safe, pretty” story. It explores some very deep and disturbing sexual fantasies. One many of us have but might not be willing to talk about. But I’d like to think the story also offers glimmers of hope throughout.
In looking back, and thinking about the story, I’m still possessed by Angel much the way I was possessed by Danny. And it makes me wonder if, perhaps, like Angel, maybe Danny was a victim of his own looks, his own desires. I wonder if Danny, like Angel, was simply dealing with demons of his own and was nothing more than a tortured soul.
Great post, Johnny. I found your insights about bad boys -- and our responses to them -- moving.
There's still time to enter to win a free copy of Dharma Café, and many other fabulous prizes!
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Capriole is available now from Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/Capriole.aspx Blurb: After fleeing a brutal mental hospital in Barcelona, Felipe Camarena is trying to forge a new life as a psychology student in San Diego. Trouble is, he has a knack of knowing things he shouldn’t about people, and the all-too-real demons from his past are coming back to haunt him. Professor Lukas von Rainer is a Warden—someone who hunts incubi and tames their sexually ravenous and dangerous offspring. As a fellow Sensitive, Lukas is the only one who can help when Felipe is severely injured by an incubus. He takes Felipe to his ranch in hopes that his Lipizzan horses will help him recover, but Felipe refuses to face his past and attempts to seduce Lukas instead. Lukas fends him off, surprised to find himself falling for the young man he’s vowed to aid. For years, he’s believed a physically satisfying and truly loving relationship is impossible because of his abilities, but is it? He may not get the chance to find out. Even as he and the horses work their magic to heal Felipe, the incubus tracking them means to kill him and anyone who gets in its way. Here's a cool video Evey made about the real stars of her novel.
For more information (as well as the occasional update from the herd) visit http://www.whitehorseyoga.wordpress.com
And if you’re wondering what a capriole is—it’s there on the cover. A capriole is one of the famous “Airs above the ground.” “A jump in place where the stallion leaps into the air, tucking his forelegs under himself, and kicking out with his hind legs at the height of elevation.” The description says “stallion,” but trust me, Lipizzan mares can do it too.
Here's an excerpt from Capriole: The rest of the day, Lukas wondered if he’d pushed the kid too far. Felipe didn’t emerge from his room except to use the facilities. More than once, Lukas lingered outside the bedroom door, torn between trying to get the kid to talk and leaving him alone. If it were anyone else, Lukas would have at least been able to sense his emotional state, but Felipe retreated behind his icy wall. Other than Lorelei, I’ve never met someone so frustrating.
He almost laughed, as he recalled Michael saying the same thing numerous times. The Chief Warden was his friend, father figure, mentor, and the one man Lukas couldn’t ask for assistance. Lukas was on his own this time, and deep down he knew Michael wanted him to learn a harsh lesson about taking on more than he could handle.
As he took a dinner tray to Felipe, he wondered for a moment if Michael was right. Felipe was damaged, but Lukas also had his attraction to contend with. Lukas wanted him, not because he wanted to be Felipe’s hero and fix him, but because he admired the kid’s strength and intelligence along with his handsome face. Felipe was a survivor, like Rafael, as well as being a fellow Sensitive. He’d be a hell of a Warden one day. The best ones had always seen the worst of mankind.
Balancing the tray on one hand, he knocked with the other. “Ramon? Are you hungry?”
No answer.
“I’ll leave the tray outside your door, then. I’m going to feed the horses now. Why don’t you come with me?”
This time the handle turned. Felipe didn’t meet his gaze, but he took the tray with a mumbled, “Thank you,” and shut the door.
Lukas set a palm against the flat wood. “Ramon? I’m sorry if I scared you. Come with me. It’s nice outside. You don’t have to touch the horses if you don’t want to.”
No response. Lukas sighed, put on his old pair of boots, and went to throw hay. Grady thrust his head over the fence, ears pricked in anticipation. When Lukas went closer, Grady nudged his chest. “Sorry, boy. I couldn’t get him to come out.” Lukas scratched around his ears.
Then he had an idea. He grabbed Grady’s halter and led him out of the arena and toward the house, straight past Felipe’s window. They paused, and Lukas tapped the glass. The curtains parted. For a few seconds, a deep longing crossed Felipe’s face. Grady nosed the window before the curtains swiftly dropped back into place.
“It’s all right,” Lukas told the gelding as he led him back to the arena. “He’ll come see you soon. If I wasn’t afraid you’d step through the floor, I’d take you into his room.”
He tossed hay and grain in the feed bins and let the herd into their stalls. Later he’d come back out and feed them a smaller ration for a snack, but he was exhausted mentally and emotionally from dealing with Felipe and looked forward to a nap before he did so.
He retreated to his room…and found someone already there. Felipe was curled on top of the comforter, deliciously, utterly naked.
With no blankets handy, Lukas grabbed a towel from the bathroom and dropped it over Felipe’s waist. “Go back to your own room.”
The towel fell to the side as Felipe sat up. His posture—a wanton tilt of the head and the unselfconscious way he maneuvered his hips to keep his groin exposed—was utterly at odds with his complete lack of emotion. “Isn’t this why you brought me here? So we can be alone?”
“Felipe…” The name slipped out as Lukas took in the handsome, nude body, selfishly wishing he could take advantage of the kid’s offer. It would be wrong, terribly so. He’d be no better than Felipe’s pimp of a brother.
His eyes narrowed. “How did you find out my name?”
Shit. Lukas fought to come up with a reasonable answer. “I heard it while you were ill. I didn’t use it because I was hoping you would trust me enough to tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter whether I do or not, does it? You don’t want me.” Disappointment tinged his voice. His gaze landed on Lukas’s groin, which showed no sign of excitement. “Is it because you’d rather be with a woman?”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with it. I’m attracted to both sexes. Besides, I’m a Warden, which means I have a great deal of control over my physical responses.” And it was taking quite a bit of effort to ensure that control.
“I’m not a virgin. I mean…” His voice went flat. “When I worked the streets in Barcelona , I took both men and women.”
“And you were on heroin to endure it.”
“I’ve been clean for three years. And with you…” He met Lukas’s gaze. “I wouldn’t need to be on anything.”
Lukas froze as Felipe stood and placed a hand suggestively against his chest. Progress? In a way—although the kid’s introduction to sex hadn’t set him up for successful relationships.
“I know what you need,” Felipe said. He tangled his fingers in Lukas’s hair, readying him for a kiss. He dropped his hand to Lukas’s waistband and swiftly undid the buttons on his fly.
“Felipe…” Lukas wanted him. More, he longed to take Felipe to bed and show him what love truly meant and what healthy sex was. “I can’t.”
Without letting go, Felipe tucked his head against Lukas’s shoulder. Felipe’s muscles were strong and supple, his body perfect despite the healing cuts. No scars. It moved erotically beneath Lukas’s hands, doing everything a man could want, yet Felipe might as well not have been there. His eyes were vacant, his smile devoid of true pleasure. Many men would have been fooled, but not a Sensitive like Lukas. The kid had walled off the most vulnerable part of himself for protection.
Yet Lukas could sense those trapped emotions welling up and threatening to burst. A simple, insignificant moment could trigger an entire collapse, one that might leave the kid’s mind irreparably broken. If Lukas could find a means of chipping away at the kid’s walls, he might have a chance, but sex was far too intense of a place to begin.
When Felipe cupped Lukas’s cock through his underwear, Lukas grabbed his wrist. “Enough. Go back to bed.”
Felipe’s eyes widened as if he’d been struck. “If you don’t want me, then why am I here?”
Because you’re broken, Lukas wanted to say. Because Padre Rafael left you in my care and I’ve taken a vow to aid those the incubus has affected. Because I want you so badly I can’t stand it. Instead he placed a brief, chaste kiss atop Felipe’s forehead. “I want you to be well and whole. Padre Rafael trusted me with his secrets. I need you to trust me too. Will you?”
His icy exterior cracked just enough for Lukas to get an idea of his physical desire along with the fear and confusion accompanying his body’s need. “You want me. I know you do.”
Lukas took a deep breath, two, before he answered. “I won’t lie. Yes, I want you, but I will not invite you into my bed until you can accept me as a lover and not because you feel obligated to offer yourself. I didn’t bring you here to be my rent boy. Understand?”
Relief flickered in his eyes, though he spoke in the same flat tone as before. “Yo comprende.”
“Good. Now go to bed.” He gave Lukas a view of his lovely smooth buttocks on his way out. Lukas leaned on the nightstand, taking in deep breaths to calm himself. He wanted Felipe as he’d wanted no one else before, yet he couldn’t tell if it was desire or pity. Felipe had been deeply scarred; Rafael had done what he could to heal that hurt, and Lukas wanted to continue that process to the best of his abilities. If Felipe did decide to become a Warden, the training included sex, but that lesson wouldn’t come for some time. Lukas tried to shoo away his disappointment along with his improper thoughts and failed. He’d become a lousy Warden, too infatuated to control himself.
Going to bed was a mistake. Felipe’s scent lingered on the comforter and pillow. Lukas twisted under the sheets, racked with guilt about lusting after the man he couldn’t have and betraying the woman he didn’t love.
Thank you Evey!
Evey Brett's website is: http://www.eveybrett.wordpress.com And you can follow her on Twitter at: @eveybrett |
-- Daisiemae, Night Owl Reviews, 5 stars, top pick
-- Paulette, Bean & Leaf Books
-- Nannette, Joyfully Reviewed
-- NeNe, Fallen Angel Reviews, 5 Angels
-- Val Kovalin, All Romance eBooks Wildfire Newsletter
-- Literary Nymphs Reviews, 4 Nymphs
-- April, Fallen Angel Reviews. 5 Angels, Recommended Read
