I’ve just finished a M/M submission for an anthology and by the time you’re reading this have already pressed the send button. Also, I’m probably going great guns on trying to finish a second M/M anthology submission due Dec. 31st! Yikes! Since the first one was about mythological characters, I stuck with the Greek gods theme on both.
In the first story, there’s Hercules and Sisyphus. Sisyphus is the guy who has to push the rock up the hill and it always rolls back down. Now, I’m pretty sure there’s a LOT of Hercules slash out there but it’s all related to Hercules the TV show, not Hercules and other gods. There are a few great shots on Deviant Art of some pretty sexy pairings though. Yum!
So in the second story – for a Valentine’s Day anthology – I went Greek again, this time with Eros. Or, you might know him by his Roman name: Cupid.
I want Cupid to have a good side and a bad side in this story. And… since Jocelyn wrote us such a sexy demon for the Hot Holiday Treats anthology, I want him to be a demon too. One who needs sex or else he gets out the wrong arrows and shoots disdain into the hearts of would-be lovers! Ouch! Let’s get that pretty little love god a hot lay before he gets all nasty on us!
Since the Cupid/Eros story doesn’t have to have an HEA, I may just leave readers hanging. Show Eros with a dilemma. After one night with Jeremy, can he stand to have another man fall in love with him? Or does he need to keep Jeremy for himself? We shall ponder that question, as all is fair in love and war, even for a love god!
Feel free to check out my Pinterest board http://www.pinterest.com/elefoy/torquere-press-call/ for inspirational pics. I’ll probably sneak a few Cupid shots in there too.
Also, I’m checking out TSU – a Facebook alternative. Have you tried it out yet? I have a page here: https://www.tsu.co/EvaLefoy
Lastly, for all you M/M romance fans out there, today, tomorrow and Weds. are the last 3 days of FREE BOOKS at MLR Press: http://www.mlrbooks.com/Special.php Grab ’em while you can!
And please see if Santa’s shirt showed up in your laundry. He’s getting a little chilly without one….
P.S. Here’s a short snippet of Hercules and Sisyphus:
As he neared, the image enlarged, filing his vision with a sight so wondrous he dropped his parcel and watched, riveted. The man before him must be Sisyphus, but it wasn’t the Sisyphus he’d imagined meeting. Far from a spindly, lazy former ruler, the goliath pushing the boulder was neither pampered nor soft. He wore only a thin loin cloth stretched across rounded tight buttocks. Underneath the fabric, thick muscles moved and bunched as Sisyphus bent to his task, both feet braced on the mountain. Above the finely sculpted ass, a corded waist and sensuously curved back supported shoulders nearly as massive as Hercules’ own. The muscles in these quivered as Sisyphus wrapped his arms around the boulder and heaved. Hercules drew his breath and held it, mildly aware of a tingling low in his groin, as Sisyphus began his uphill journey.
Minutes stretched into hours as Hercules stood mesmerized, forgetting the heat, forgetting his thirst, focused only on Sisyphus’s supple panting form as he pushed and rested, pushed and rested his way up the slope. About halfway up Sisyphus stopped, bracing the boulder against the side of the slope with a smaller rock that didn’t even appear large enough to hold its weight. But Sisyphus apparently knew what he was doing. He turned, leaned his back against the boulder, and wiped his brow. Then he lifted his face toward the sky.
For the first time, Hercules took in the full glory of Sisyphus. “Oh my god. He’s beautiful.” Pectorals swollen with work stood out proudly from his chest, leaving no flat planes from shoulder to shoulder. Effort hardened biceps curved in muscular cascades from shoulder caps to elbows, tapering into thick forearms. Beneath his chest, six rows of abdominals rippled proudly with each breath and Hercules found his mouth watering at such perfection.
Even Sisyphus’ tree-trunk thighs were stunning. Each of his corded quadriceps bulged, competing with the others for space in a riot of masculine fervor. Hercules couldn’t help picturing those thunderous thighs trembling in passion, couldn’t stop himself from picturing what lay underneath Sisyphus’ loin cloth nor imagining what his grunts of release might sound like. But the capping grace to the man’s beauty lay in his hair.
Sun-drenched a golden yellow, and long as Poseidon’s, it flared out around him in a silky mass. The color contrasted with the dark umber of his skin, creating a glowing halo that made Hercules ache to run his fingers through it. He’d never seen such beautiful hair, not even on a woman. The fact it happened to be attached to a man only turned him on more. Such hair could only mean the owner possessed strength and vitality nearly equal to his own. It was this thought, not that of any woman, that engorged his cock.
Letting out a soft mewl of desire, Hercules let his hand stray to his groin and watched as Sisyphus ended his short break, turning around and pressing the rock uphill once more. It was all Hercules could do not run after him and press himself between those meaty thighs.