“It’s a good thing we’ve got this entire floor booked or people would be complaining to the front desk about the noise.”

Tré Montgomery laughingly agreed with his friend The Chancellor as he looked around the room. Nearly the entire roster and crew for Frontier Professional Wrestling was staying on the sixth floor of their downtown Miami hotel. Their group was a little rowdier than usual because they were celebrating Chance’s retirement from the wrestling ring. After his final match earlier that evening, Chance had requested that they chill at the hotel to celebrate rather than going out to a bar or club.

Of course, chill had turned into a full-blown party. A couple of people had gone on beer and food runs, the room next door had an enthusiastic NBA 2K18 PlayStation tournament taking place, while a big-budget superhero movie played on the TV in the room across from them. There were wrestlers and crew out in the hall talking and laughing as they went from room to room. Tré and Chance sat at a table in the corner of Tré’s hotel room, where someone had hooked up portable karaoke.

“You knew this would happen,” Tré said.

Chance shook his head at two of their fellow wrestlers loudly singing to an old Guns N’ Roses song that blared from a laptop connected to the TV. “Yeah, I did.”
Tré watched the two for a moment, before turning to look at his friend. “I’ll miss you in the ring, old man.”

“Don’t you start. Like I told Devin, I’m not going anywhere. The only thing that’s changed is now I get to wear actual pants to work.”

Tré laughed again. “Don’t pretend you won’t miss putting on the spandex.”

Chance rolled his eyes at that and changed the subject. “How are things with you and your partner? Got any ideas for storylines you want to give to your new booker? Now that I’m in charge of the promotion’s creative direction I can actually do something with the crazy ideas everyone is always coming up with.”

Tré looked out into the hall at the partner Chance was referring to: Brandon Wilkes, his tag team partner at FPW. The lean, young black man slouched against the wall talking to another wrestler. His thick, shoulder-length brown hair was pulled up into a puff at the back of his head, the style emphasizing the sharp line of his jaw and full lips. The harsh, bright hallway lights didn’t detract from the warm glow of his golden-brown skin. Tré always noticed those things about his gorgeous partner, even though he shouldn’t. And Chance usually called him out on it. He rushed to answer Chance’s question in an effort to hopefully keep it from happening yet again.

“Things are fine.” He paused for a second to reconsider. “Actually, he’s been a little distant lately. Too preoccupied to sit down and come up with any potential feuds for us, but other than that, things are fine.”

“You guys aren’t having problems, are you?”

“No. We’re solid. He just looks like he’s got something on his mind. He’ll spit it out when he’s ready.”

“All right then. You know him better than anyone.” Chance took a sip of his beer and casually glanced off to the side. “So, you guys haven’t discussed anything new?”

Tré wasn’t fooled by the studied nonchalance. Apparently, his attempt to head Chance off hadn’t worked. “We’re not going there tonight, Chancellor.” 

“You’re right. It’s a night for celebration. Not for talking about why you should speak up on something that might make you want to celebrate.”

Tré pressed his lips tightly closed to keep from responding to that comment. People in love always wanted everyone around them to be in love as well, so he couldn’t fault his friend too much for pushing for something that was never going to happen.

He was saved from having to respond to the older wrestler’s comment when Devin walked into the room. A smile lit up Chance’s face when he noticed his lover approaching. The tall redhead gave Tré a quick grin before looking down at Chance.

“I’m tired. Let’s go to bed,” Devin said as he held out his hand toward his boyfriend.

Tré snorted in amused disbelief. Devin didn’t look the slightest bit tired. He practically bounced on his toes, his eyes bright and excited. He might want to go to bed, but it wasn’t for sleep.

Chance’s lips twitched, holding back a smile as he let the younger man pull him to his feet. Fingers linked with Devin’s, he looked back at Tré. “Thanks for the party. I’ll catch you in the morning.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good night,” he said as he saluted them both with his beer.

Tré watched as Chance followed Devin from the room. He never would have thought that Chance would be the one out, happy, and in a relationship. But Devin had stormed into FPW earlier that year, and Chance had fallen in love with the young wrestler before he’d known what hit him. Tré was happy for him. Still, a thorn of jealousy poked at his insides.
Chance had a romantic partner. Even better, it was someone in the business who understood what the life was like and would be with him as they traveled across the country. Tré wanted that too, almost desperately. He looked at Brandon again, out in the hallway, laughing at whatever Kenji had said. His smile lit up his whole face. Tré couldn’t help but smile in response, even though it was bittersweet. Brandon was his partner. His tag team partner. Tré was satisfied with that. He really was. Really.

***
A week after the Summer Showdown pay-per-view, Brandon and some of the other boys on the FPW roster hit up a New Orleans gym for a pre-show workout. Brandon leaned against the chest fly machine, bobbing his head to the music playing over the loudspeakers while Tré pressed out his reps. Brandon liked this place. It was right in the middle of the spectrum with hard-core gyms on one side—with their screaming rock music, bare walls and the air turned up so high he had to jog in place to stay warm in between sets—and fitness centers on the other—where you got a dozen judgmental glares if you let the weights clang too loud.

As Brandon waited his turn, he watched Devin and Chance working out together across the gym. Devin appeared happy and full of energy as always. He’d been that way ever since Brandon had first met him back on the indies a few years ago. Chance on the other hand, was different. Whereas before he’d always been serious and quiet, now he was smiling and more talkative. Of course, most of those smiles were directed toward Devin, but it was nice to see the wrestling icon happy. Brandon straightened as Tré got up and wiped down the seat to let him take his turn. When he noticed where Brandon was looking, he grinned and shook his head.

“Those two love birds.”

“Still crazy that The Chancellor is out and with Devin,” Brandon said as he sat and adjusted the weights.

“Yep.”

“Must be nice though.” The weights rose with a hiss as he pressed out his first rep. “To be with the person you love. Especially in this business.”

“Yeah. Pro wrestling isn’t exactly known for creating lasting relationships. I think most tag teams last longer than the majority of wrestling marriages.”

Brandon continued with his set, enjoying the pleasant burn of his muscles working at the edge of their limit. Tré watched the two men they were discussing, and Brandon watched him. Although, he made sure not to be obvious he was staring at his friend. He’d become pretty good over the three years they’d been a tag team at watching Tré on the sly. And he looked often because he liked what he saw.

Tré was tall, several inches taller than him, with smooth, dark skin. His low haircut and goatee were perfectly maintained from weekly trips to the barber shop. Brandon loved his partner’s well-groomed style. His own hair was usually a carefree mess and his jaw was always scruffy. But Tré looked like he was about to model for an expensive watch ad at any moment. His muscles and build were perfect, thick and powerful without being bulky. He’d been a basketball power forward throughout high school and college, and it showed in his physique.

Brandon felt blessed by the gods, because four nights a week, he got to see his partner’s amazing body covered in nothing more than spandex underwear and boots. He appreciated the gift, but he also liked the way Tré looked right now dressed in a muscle tank and basketball shorts. The loose, dark blue fabric teased Brandon every time it molded to Tré’s firm ass and powerful thighs. And he’d always had a thing for the long line and defined cut of Tré’s calves. A silly thing to focus on, but the smooth skin and hard muscle there drew his eye. Probably because they touched so much working together in the ring, but that was one spot—other than the obvious no touch areas—that he’d never had the opportunity to get his hands on. It was like forbidden fruit, there to taunt him. Visible and within reach, but unattainable.   

Snorting a laugh to himself at his obsession with Tré’s calves, Brandon let the weights come to a full stop. Finished with his set, he got his partner’s attention by nudging him with his foot. “We’re so close, we might as well be married. Except neither of us is putting out.”

“Then it is like we’re married,” Tré said in a dry tone.

Brandon laughed at his partner’s humor. “Do you think you’ll ever be in a relationship like those two?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. With somebody in the business.”

Tré looked away. “Who knows? Don’t see how I’m supposed to meet someone when I’m in a different city nearly every night.”

“Maybe I could help you out there.”

Tré’s head snapped back around, shoulders tense and eyes locked on Brandon’s. Brandon didn’t blink, hoping that his longtime partner would finally see through his teasing to what he was really trying to say. But after a moment, Tré relaxed and gave him a lopsided smile.

“Funny. What are you gonna do, send some fan a DM and ask them if they want to hook up with me?”

Brandon’s face felt frozen, but he managed a smile of his own. “Yeah, I’ll just slide into the DMs of the cutest fanboy I see on Twitter.”

Now Tré laughed. “Like you know what’s cute.”

“I’m hurt that you don’t trust my ability to know what you like.”

Tré’s smile softened. “I trust you.”

Brandon’s stomach swooped at the gently curved lips and sparkling dark eyes of that smile. He hesitated for a second, trying to decide if now was the time. Confessing his feelings in the middle of a gym wasn’t ideal, but he’d been hinting and hoping for over a year. And time was running out. His heart pounding, Brandon tried to think of the best thing to say. Hints hadn’t worked so far. Should he blurt it out? Or maybe asking Tré to step outside for some privacy was the way to go in case his revelation lead to an embarrassing rejection. He stared up at Tré, his heart in his throat, sweat that had nothing to do with his workout trickling down his spine.

A small frown creased Tré’s brow. “Is everything okay?”

With a defeated mental sigh, Brandon punked out. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Tré nodded in sympathy. “I understand that. Those three days home are never long enough.”

Before Brandon could respond, Slade came over. The wrestler’s long black hair gleamed under the fluorescent lights as he struck up a conversation with Tré. Frustrated, and wanting to punch himself for being afraid, Brandon moved on to the next machine.

***
Later that night, Tré waited in the backstage area of the New Orleans arena with Brandon. Their tag match against The Black River Boys was up in a few minutes. As always, he and Brandon were dressed in nearly identical outfits. They both wore candy apple red trunks with Pittsburgh Power Machine in shiny black and silver lettering across the ass. Their black sleeveless hoodies had their individual names on the back, with PPM in shimmering red and silver stitched over the left breast. The only difference in gear was their footwear. Tré wore traditional calf-high lace-up boots, while Brandon preferred knee-length kick pads over wrestling shoes.

Tré had seen Brandon in their brief wrestling costume hundreds of times over the three years they’d tagged together. But he still admired how amazing his partner looked. His bare arms glistened with oil under the lights, the muscles in his biceps sharp and defined. And his thighs… Tré stared, watching the muscles flex under smooth skin as Brandon went through his pre-match stretches. His feet spread wide, Brandon bent at the waist, arms extended along his legs to grip his ankles. Tré didn’t outwardly react to the unintentionally provocative pose, but in his head, it was basically a parade of panting, drooling heart-eye gifs.

He didn’t want to perv on his partner. So, while he might look when Brandon didn’t see him, he’d never do or say anything to make him uncomfortable. And that was why he could never speak up about his feelings for his friend. Coming on to him could jeopardize their friendship, and Tré didn’t want that. He’d rather hide his attraction than do anything to risk losing Brandon in his work and personal life.

Tré was still staring when Brandon straightened and looked over his shoulder. He grinned when he met Tré’s eye.

“Ready?”

Embarrassed heat crawled up Tré’s neck. “Yep. Let’s do it.” He looked away after answering and tugged his hood up to hide in case his expression betrayed that embarrassment. His face heated further when he caught sight of Chance watching him.

“Smooth,” Chance teased with a grin and a thumbs up.

Tré responded by giving his friend the middle finger. 

Holding back a laugh, Chance pointed at the sound guy to queue up their music, then gave Tré and Brandon the signal to go out.

They went through the curtain and walked down the ramp together, a little swagger to their step as they kept pace with the happy hip-hop beat of their theme song. The music was reminiscent of something that would be played at a summertime barbecue, and it always had the crowd up on their feet and dancing. Brandon pointed at fans in the audience, walking close to the rail to give out high fives. Tré played it cool, letting his partner work the crowd.

In the ring, The Black River Boys, Payne and Gnash, stood waiting. Their long, stringy black hair hung in their eyes as they sneered and watched Tré and Brandon strip out of their ring jackets. Once the Pittsburgh Power Machine music stopped, the ref called for the bell. Tré stepped back through the ropes to stand in his corner, letting Brandon start the match. To get the crowd hyped, Brandon went after Payne with a flurry of kicks, forcing the bigger man to put up his arms in an attempt to shield his face. But both men knew how to work a crowd, and the fans couldn’t cheer for Brandon to climb to victory if he was on top the entire match.

Just when it seemed as though Brandon would win it for them a minute in, Payne came roaring back and slammed into him with a flying tackle. Tré winced as Brandon’s much smaller frame went down hard in the middle of the ring. That landing on canvas stretched over a thin pad with unforgiving plywood beneath would probably bruise his partner’s back.

Brandon rolled to his front, the light catching the sparkling letters on the rear of his trunks as he slapped the mat in frustration. Tré held back his grin when the audience groaned in disappointment at having what looked like a sure victory snatched away. His partner was one of the best at gaining a crowd’s sympathy.

Brandon’s ability to connect with the crowd was one of the many reasons there was no one else in the business Tré would rather tag with. He would never let it show on his face in front of a live crowd—hell, he wouldn’t even let Brandon know—but working with his partner was the best part of his career. He didn’t remember the day it happened, or even the city, but he’d been standing in this exact spot, watching Brandon flip across the ring, wrestling his heart out, when he’d first fallen for him. And every night since then, he’d kept his feelings hidden.

Tré got ready, knowing Brandon was about to make his way to their corner for a tag. He held his hand out for Brandon to slap his palm, then stepped into the ring to have his own go at Payne.

They were fairly evenly matched in size, but Payne wrestled like a berserker while Tré used calculated power moves. He stopped Payne’s wild charge by grabbing him in wrist lock, twisting his arm up behind him and slamming the big man down hard. Payne quickly retaliated, knocking Tré’s legs out from under him with a chop block. They were both on the mat now, and Tré had to struggle to gain the upper hand. He managed it, but when he wasn’t able to get a pin after several minutes of being in control, he tagged Brandon back in to let him have another turn.

Once again, he stood on the ring apron, watching as Brandon worked against Gnash. The bigger man flung Brandon across the ring, where he crashed into the corner turnbuckle. The impact made Brandon stagger backward and fall to the mat. He’d taken a lot of punishment already, and now their opponent ran over and started stomping on him. The crowd erupted in a mix of booing at Gnash and cheering for Brandon to get back to his feet. Brandon rolled, dodging some of the kicks before struggling upright.
Once he made it up to one knee the crowd started cheering even harder. Brandon pushed out at Gnash, making him stumble off balance and giving himself enough room to make it upright. Spinning around, he caught Gnash on the jaw with a high kick. Then Brandon collapsed again, although this time he was facing their corner.

Tré leaned over the ropes, reaching for his tag partner. “C’mon, man! You can make it!”
Brandon lifted his head to look at him and started slowly dragging himself across the ring. As Tré waited for his partner to make it to their corner, he couldn’t help but notice that Brandon was gorgeous, even now with his face flushed from exertion and sweat-damp hair hanging over his forehead. What would Brandon do if Tré were to pull him into his arms, assuring him that he was safe as he stroked his hair back, before he went in and exacted revenged on Gnash and Payne? A fantasy. Too far out there even for kayfabe. Not to mention, Brandon would probably be confused as hell, wondering what Tré was doing. Shaking his head, Tré pushed the ridiculous mental image aside. Brandon hadn’t reached him yet, but Gnash had already made it to his feet. He staggered to the other side to tag his own partner in. 

Brandon looked over his shoulder at the successful tag. His eyes wide, he pushed himself up and made a desperate flying leap for Tré’s outstretched hand. They slapped palms as Payne came charging across the ring. When Payne saw their tag, he abruptly stopped and took a few nervous steps back.

Tré grinned and stepped through the ropes with deliberate slowness. He was fresh and ready to avenge the punishment his partner had taken. Payne narrowed his eyes and came at him. They both went on the offensive, pummeling each other with blows to the jaw and torso. Tré quickly gained the upper hand. He scooped Payne up and tossed him facedown onto his shoulder, holding him across the waist to keep him from escaping. Then he took three running steps forward before he body slammed the man to the mat right in front of his and Brandon’s corner. While Payne was down and stunned, Tré leaned over, tagged Brandon back in, then stepped back to watch as his partner climbed to the top rope. Brandon held an arm across his torso, still selling the beat down from earlier, but he looked determined. He leaped off the top rope, landing on Payne with a leg drop across his chest.

Payne was pinned with both shoulders down, so the ref ran over and slid onto his belly to count it, his palm slapping the mat three times in a row: one, two, three. When he called for the bell, the crowd cheered even louder at their favorites’ victory.
Their theme music blasted throughout the arena as the announcer got on the mic. “Here are your winners, Tré and Brandon, the Pittsburgh Power Machine!”

Gnash and Payne slunk away while Tré and Brandon celebrated their win in the middle of the ring. They gave each other their team handshake: two quick palm slaps, slide, grip, slide, release, snap, forearm bump. 

They rolled to the floor, then went around slapping high fives with everybody sitting ringside. Once they’d made the entire circuit, Tré took Brandon’s arm and slung it over his shoulder so he could help his “injured” partner to the back. The cheers followed them all the way up the ramp, and Brandon gave one last wave before they disappeared from sight.

Behind the curtain, Brandon took his arm from around Tré’s shoulders and rubbed his tailbone. “Fuck, that leg drop. I swear I smush my spine up into my brain every time I do that move.”

Tré looked at his partner with his eyebrows raised. “You what?”

“You know what I mean,” Brandon said with a grin. “It hurts.”

“Sorry, man. Tomorrow night, I’ll make sure to get him up so we can do the Power Tower instead.”

Brandon grabbed Tré’s arm in a hug and fluttered his eyelashes. “Awww, Tré. Thank you. You take such good care of me, making sure I don’t break my ass in the ring.”

Tré rolled his eyes at his partner’s ridiculous teasing. “Shut up and let’s go shower.”
Laughing, Brandon dropped his arm and strolled off ahead. Tré followed behind, admiring Brandon’s smooth walk and the way his sweaty skin gleamed under the lights. Brandon was gorgeous and funny. Tré would give anything for his partner’s teasing to be real so he could take care of him the way he dreamed of doing.

***
After a quick shower and change into street clothes, it was time to hit the road. Brandon shrugged on his backpack while Tré gripped the handle of his rolling suitcase.
“You, ready?”

Brandon nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They walked out of the back of the arena into the warm and humid Louisiana night. As usual, a crowd of fans waited behind the fence that surrounded the parking lot. They waved and yelled for the wrestlers to come over.

“You feel like signing tonight?” Brandon asked his partner.

“Sure.”

They went toward the fence and the fans immediately started cheering. Brandon and Tré took a few selfies, signed whatever was put in front of them, and reached over the fence to high five little kids. Brandon was signing one of their official eight by tens when a fan asked him a question.

“Do you think you guys will ever break up?” 

Brandon calmly raised an eyebrow at the question. They were asked this at least once a week by fans or media. He gave his standard response, accompanied by a mischievous grin. “Why would we go and break up a good thing?” 

The girl smiled at his answer and asked for a picture with them. He and Tré both crowded in, and the girl turned with her back to them and held the phone up so she could get her shot. When she was done, Brandon jumped up on Tré’s back, wrapping his arms around his partner’s shoulders and his legs around Tré’s waist. They were so in tune with each other and Brandon had done this so many times before that Tré didn’t even flinch. He simply adjusted his stance to manage Brandon’s weight, gripping him under one leg with the hand that wasn’t holding his suitcase.

“We’re partners for life,” Brandon said to the fan.

The girl had a comeback ready for him. “Or life partners,” she said with a wink.

Brandon laughed as the girl raised her phone to take another picture. “Let’s go, partner.”

Tré shook his head and headed over to their rental, still carrying him on his back. When he popped the locks open, Brandon hopped down to the ground. He tossed his bag in the trunk after Tré slung his in, then went around to get in the passenger seat. The crowd at the fence hadn’t left yet, as they were hoping for more wrestlers to come over. Brandon waved at them when they pulled out of the parking lot, then settled back into his seat as they hit the highway. 

The first thirty minutes of the drive were quiet. They each needed the time to decompress after the frantic activity of a night at the arena. Eventually Brandon pulled his phone from his pocket. He opened up Twitter first. As expected, his notifications were out of control. He started scrolling through them, stopping when half of a particular picture caught his eye. Brandon pressed his thumb to it to go full screen, snorting a laugh when he read the caption.

“What?”

“That last girl we took pictures with posted them on Twitter already. She got one of me up on your back and captioned it, I ship it.”
Tré laughed too but didn’t take his eyes from the road.

They both knew what shipping was. Fans put wrestlers in fictional romantic relationships and drew fan art and wrote fanfiction about them. As tag team partners, they were probably shipped more than a lot of people on the roster. Brandon took a screen shot of the tweet so he wouldn’t have to look for it later and lowered his phone to his lap. “I’ll show it to you when we stop.”

Tré shook his head. “I’m cool.”

“Who do you think they have as the top in our ship?”

Now Tré took his eyes off the road to glance over at him. “What?”

“In those fics, they normally have one guy as the top. Do you think it’s you or me? It’s probably you since you’re bigger than me.”

“You’re kidding me with this, right?”

“Nope. I could look up a couple of fics and find out.” He brought his phone back up.

“Okay, Google. Tré and Brandon Fanfiction dot net.”

Tré laughed. “Don’t you dare. I don’t think we need to know the answer to that.”

Brandon gave an exaggerated sigh and closed out the Google app that had just opened. “Party pooper.”

“You’re crazy,” Tré said with another laugh. “How about we spend our time coming up with some new moves?”

“We switched to that new finisher not too long ago. Alex probably won’t let us change it so soon.”

“Not a new finish. But maybe something we can use to get the crowd hype in the middle of the match.”

“Let me guess. It’ll be dangerous for me?” In their team dynamic, he was the risk taker and Tré was the power. It worked great and let them play off each other’s strengths in the ring.

“Not really. I was thinking I’d do a powerbomb and you’d come in right after with a frog splash.”

“Sounds good. The power and the excitement. But you know frog splashes hurt to land, right? Oh, what am I saying. Of course, you don’t. You’ve never jumped off anything in your life.”

Tré flashed him a smug grin before he turned back to the road. “That’s right. And I plan to keep it that way.”

It made sense that Tré wasn’t known for flashy, high flying moves. Unlike Brandon’s slim, five-eleven frame, Tré was six-three and two hundred forty pounds of muscle. He wasn’t exactly built to go flying around a wrestling ring. Brandon was fine with that. It was one of the things that made their tag team special; they each had their specialized roles to play. Besides, he liked every single one of Tré’s muscles. Too bad he couldn’t figure out a way to tell him that.

Talking about shipping might have been a way to ease into it. Maybe he could have sneakily led the conversation from their fictional relationship to the possibility of a real one. But Brandon didn’t want to be a creeper bringing up topping and fics again.

He grew quiet, wondering why this was so hard. They were closer than most people’s romantic relationships; he trusted Tré with his body in the ring. Yet saying a few simple words--I’m into you. I like you. Kiss me—were all more terrifying than back flipping off the top rope to land on an opponent.

“No comeback for that? Are you okay?”

Brandon abruptly got out of his head and gave his attention back to his partner. “I’m letting it slide this time. But only because I think a powerbomb-frog splash combo will look pretty cool.”

Tré laughed, and Brandon smiled at the deep rumble of it. He might never work up the nerve to say the words that would win him Tré as his lover, but no matter what happened or where he went, he’d always be glad he had Tré as his friend.

A few hours later, they reached the company’s selected hotel for the night. Tiredness had kicked in for Brandon about thirty miles back, so as soon they were behind the hotel room door, he let his bag drop to the floor and stripped down to his underwear. As he undressed, he listened to the familiar unzipping of luggage and rustling of clothes as Tré settled in on the other side of the room.

Once Brandon was under the covers and the lights were out, he finally relaxed. It felt like he’d been wearing a mask for weeks, trying to keep up the facade that everything was okay when actually he was anxious and nervous. He suspected Tré knew he had something on his mind, but he wasn’t saying anything. And that frustrated him. He wanted, no he needed his partner to speak up. Because he had a decision to make, and it needed to be made soon.

Thank you for reading! In His Corner will be available on Amazon, Apple,                Barnes & Noble and Kobo April 10, 2018.

Love,
Christa
Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
Sign up for my Newsletter to receive updates, free reads and more!

Whew! These past few weeks in the romance world – or #Romancelandia as we call it on Twitter – have been a doozy. Let’s recap.

With the Santino Hassell issue, the m/m community nearly caved in on itself.

After Cole McCade revealed Sarah Lyons’ comments about not putting black people on covers our community exploded with disbelief at the blatant racism.

The third issue is the fact that there hasn’t been a single Black winner of the RWA Rita awards in the entire existence of the organization. The RWA put out a statement on this, and it spawned lots of conversation on the difficulties authors of color face in publishing.

For this third issue, there hasn’t been much discussion in the m/m community. I’ll admit that I’m not on Facebook much – Twitter is more my jam. But when I logged on I expected to see a lot of discussion on the topic, just as I did with SH and Lyons. Instead, I’ve only seen a few posts from authors like Harper Miller, LaQuette, and Sharita Lira scattered about.

This concerns me. I wonder, does the m/m community think this issue doesn’t affect it, and that’s why there has been near silence on the topic? As we can see from the Sara Lyons emails it absolutely is a thing. Still not sure what that thing is? Let me state it plainly. Authors of Color (AOC) and especially authors of color writing characters of color are at a disadvantage in publishing.

1) We don’t win (often) awards.
2) We’re not heavily promoted. (A prime example is the way black people went bat shit over Black Panther. We don’t often get the chance to be the next Big Thing like Twilight, Fifty Shades and Game of Thrones)
3) We’re not squeeed over by readers and review blogs as much as white authors/characters.
4) Big Five publishers (and smaller pubs as well) don’t often publish us. The Ripped Bodice’s Diversity Report has the numbers on that.
5) We suffer from There Can Only Be One mentality. With this, readers think I already read a black historical I don’t need to read another because it will be the same. Or, all the visibility goes to a few authors of color, elevating them to great popularity while the majority of the rest are ignored.
 
How does this happen? Well, statements like the ones below are reasons why our genre is struggling with diversity.

“I can’t relate to those characters.”
This comment has been said so often that I’m just going to parrot back the same response that’s always given. If you can relate to vampires, meerkat shifters, omega men with slick butts, or hell even a SWAT team full of gay D/s dudes *cough-cough*, you can relate to people with skin that’s different from yours. I assure you, we’re not aliens. And even aliens are accepted by readers in sci-fi romance.

“I don’t want to read about race problems.”
Not every book featuring people of color (POC) is about race. Some are. But please don’t make that assumption just because there’s brown skin on the cover. And even if racism is mentioned what’s the big deal? We read about other unpleasant topics like domestic violence and gay youth being kicked out of the home, and (hopefully) learn from them. Why can’t racial issues receive that same consideration?

“It should be about the quality of the book. Not the race of the author or characters.”
This comment is like nails on a chalkboard to me. Or actually a big fat dog whistle. Because what it’s really saying is that diverse authors can’t bring the quality and therefore shouldn’t be put up for awards, promoted, etc. Otherwise, why mention quality whenever we discuss including books by authors of color?

The majority of us in the m/m community are women. I’m not saying it’s a good thing or a bad thing or ignoring the many transgender men and women and nonbinary people – it’s just a thing. So that means most of us are already reading and writing outside of ourselves. If we can all put ourselves in the headspace to read about two men falling in love, I don’t see why white readers can’t read about people of color – and why non-black people of color can’t read about black characters and so on. Because I, and pretty much every other person of color, have been reading white characters since we first picked up books.

I wrote in a previous blog post about how I didn’t see a black character in a romance novel until I was in high school. Not once have I ever said – I just can’t read this because I can’t relate to this blonde heroine and her blue-eyed lover. We’re expected to read outside of ourselves. All we’re asking is for everyone else to return the favor. How can you return that favor? I’ve got some action items!

Don’t say, “I don’t see color. I just want the story.” I know on the surface this seems like an open-minded way of thinking. But not seeing color erases us. We want to be seen and have our differences acknowledged, accepted and embraced!

And not seeing color often means that we just aren’t seen. Which means you’re going to have to look for us. Don't believe me? Go to Amazon and check out the Top 100 for Gay romance. In that entire bunch, there's one book with a black character on it. You get the same result just typing in gay romance or m/m romance into the search bar. If we’re not sought out, it’s easy to end up with a homogenous book shelf – even when you are open to reading diversely. So take a tiny step. When you type into the search bar on Amazon, add a word to your search. Instead of typing gay contemporary romance try multicultural gay contemporary romance.

Do rec us to your friends and bloggers and ask for us in libraries and bookstores.

Don’t go into our stories expecting to be taught about culture. A Chinese American author writing about a Chinese American hero doesn’t necessarily want to tell the story of their culture. They just might want to write about a Chinese American guy who is at the library, has a meet cute with a quiet, yet well-built branch manager and falls in love. And that’s okay. Our romance novels don’t have to be culture guides. There’s uh… culture guides for that.

Do use context or even hit up Google if there are mentions of things you’re not familiar with. For example, I used to read the heck out of Highland romances. But I had no clue what haggis was and I had to look it up. The word Sassenach drove me crazy because before Google, I couldn’t figure out exactly what it meant. I knew who it referred to, but I thought there might be more meaning behind it since it was always used as an insult.

I’m sure many of you had to look up facts about garderobes for historicals or pick up on the basics of game play for hockey romances. If we can do that for predominantly white stories, we can extend the same courtesy to diverse romance. For example, in my upcoming release In His Corner (hell yeah I’m self-promoting) I write about Brandon’s curly, easily tangled 4B hair. When you get to that scene, just roll with it. Don’t toss it aside because it’s different from your experience.

Don’t assume that there just aren’t any authors of color out there writing m/m romance. Me, my brown face, and the brown faces of many authors I’ve connected with assure you that this isn’t true.

Do use sources like Queer in Color and Women of Color in Romance to find new books to try.

Do ask for recs. The next time you’re in the MM Book Rec group looking for a hurt/comfort romance, ask if there are any featuring characters of color. Or maybe even say Hey, I really like Susan Author. Are there any Authors of Color who have books with tropes and settings like hers? The first couple of times you might get crickets for your response. But as we expand our reading horizons we’ll start having more recs to share.

Don’t refuse to pick up a book because the character’s name is unfamiliar to you, like D’Marcus or Takashi (sorry, my Voltron is showing). A lot of us learned to pronounce Daenerys Targaryen. We can give Rhashan a chance too.

Do show a little variety in the covers/models you promote. For example, if you’re a blogger and you’ve got a sweet header with multiple covers and/or couples but all of them are white? It makes me hesitate to submit a book with multicultural characters to you. Putting up a hot dude with brown skin is like rolling out the welcome mat to authors like me. It lets us know that our books will be welcome and won’t be discounted out of hand or unfairly judged because of the color of the characters’ skin.

In addition to that, if you have one of those shout out days going on like Sexy Saturday or Hot Guy Wednesday, mix it up and put some brown folks in there. If week after week, each of your hot guys is white, that tells me that you don’t find men of color attractive, deserving of love, or worthy of being your hero’s muse. That might not actually be true, but all I can go by is what you demonstrate to me.

Need some help finding Hot Guys of Color? Poke Atom Yang and ask if you can join his Atom’s Asian Hotties Facebook group. Cuz good lord there are some beautiful men posted in there. Or, go to Pinterest and type in sexy black men. You’ll get a plethora of gorgeous results. (Just uh… maybe try not to refer to them as chocolate or other foods. It’s kind of gross.) 

Listen. I know this is hard. None of us wants to be the bad guy in our own story. And realizing that as either an author or a reader/reviewer/blogger you’ve had thoughts or actions or even inaction that have left authors and characters of color out in the cold can make you feel shitty – like you’re the bad guy. And no one likes that feeling. But we’ve got to suck it up and face what makes us uncomfortable.

For example, when I was younger, I was ignorant and held the belief that I wasn’t attracted to Asian men. Now that I’m older I know that was racist, and what I actually wasn’t attracted to was the media portrayal of Asian men: nerdy, sexless caricatures with over the top accents. Now that I’ve broadened my worldview, I’m looking at these guys and… *sweats* My old racist belief has definitely been kicked to the curb.

Hell, I’m a black woman and even I had thoughts that books by/about black people weren’t of good quality. Because that’s what I was taught – mostly indirectly by publishing. I had to unlearn that. It was mentally unpleasant to do, because I felt bad for the way I’d erroneously judged many authors.

Now this last step is expert level. I’m talking black belt in Being a Diversity Ally. If you’ve said hold my purse! and gone to bat to defend m/m romance from evil heterosexual bigots, or you’ve taken off your earrings and fought against literature snobs who dissed romance as a low brow genre, this final step is for you. Put some tape on your wrists, Vaseline on your face and (metaphorically) square up for us.

When you see someone spouting ignorance like black women don’t read/write romance, or all black romances are ghetto/poor quality, or whatever nonsense is being spewed – Say Something. Let them know their beliefs are baseless and ignorant. Authors of color fight for other causes all the time, do us a solid and help us with ours. We need the whole squad ready in order to embrace diversity in the m/m community.

TLDR: Buy, Promote, Read Books by Authors of Color Featuring Characters of Color. =)

Thanks for reading!
Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
Sign up for my Newsletter to receive updates, free reads and more!
In His Corner – Champions of Desire Book 2 – is now available for Pre-Order.
AMAZON (Coming Soon)   B&N   KOBO   APPLE

It's here! It's here! The cover for In His Corner, Book Two in the Champions of Desire series, is ready for your viewing pleasure. I'm dying to show it to you, so without further ado...

Gorgeous isn't it? Tre and Brandon were brought to life by Melody Simmons at BookCoversCre8tive.com. When you're finished eyeing the pretty, keep reading because I have .99 Pre-Order Links, an excerpt and giveaway!

AMAZON (Coming Soon)   B&N   KOBO   APPLE

Tré Montgomery loves working with his best friend, Brandon Wilkes. As a professional wrestling tag team, they wow crowds across the country. While Tré craves more from his talented and gorgeous partner, life taught him that confessing his feelings threatens not only friendships, but careers.

Brandon is one of the best when it comes to connecting with an audience of thousands. But when he tries to connect with the only man he truly wants, that ability fizzles out. Hiding his true desires behind a front of playful teasing, he hopes Tré will either catch on or make it clear he’s not interested.

When subtly fails, Brandon makes a decision that threatens to tear his relationship with Tré apart. If they want to stay together, both men will have to bring the confidence they display in the ring into their private lives. Will they brave the risks to go from tag team partners to lovers? Or is their shot at love destined to go down for the count?

Later that night, Tré waited in the backstage area of the New Orleans arena with Brandon. Their tag match against The Black River Boys was up in a few minutes. As always, he and Brandon were dressed in nearly identical outfits. They both wore candy apple red trunks with Pittsburgh Power Machine in shiny black and silver lettering across the ass. Their black sleeveless hoodies had their individual names on the back, with PPM in shimmering red and silver stitched over the left breast. The only difference in gear was their footwear. Tré wore traditional calf-high lace-up boots, while Brandon preferred knee-length kick pads over wrestling shoes.

Tré had seen Brandon in their brief wrestling costume hundreds of times over the three years they’d tagged together. But he still admired how amazing his partner looked. His bare arms glistened with oil under the lights, the muscles in his biceps sharp and defined. And his thighs… Tré stared, watching the muscles flex under smooth skin as Brandon went through his pre-match stretches. His feet spread wide, Brandon bent at the waist, arms extended along his legs to grip his ankles, and ass up in the air. Tré didn’t outwardly react to the unintentionally provocative pose, but in his head, it was basically a parade of panting, drooling heart-eye gifs.

He didn’t want to perv on his partner. So, while he might look when Brandon didn’t see him, he’d never do or say anything to make him uncomfortable. And that was why he could never speak up about his feelings for his friend. Coming on to him could jeopardize their friendship, and Tré didn’t want that. He’d rather hide his attraction than do anything to risk losing Brandon in his work and personal life.
Tré was still staring when Brandon straightened and looked over his shoulder. He grinned when he met Tré’s eye.

“Ready?”

Embarrassed heat crawled up Tré’s neck. “Yep. Let’s do it.” He looked away after answering and tugged his hood up to hide in case his expression betrayed that embarrassment. His face heated further when he caught sight of Chance watching him.

“Smooth,” Chance teased with a grin and a thumbs up.

Tré responded by giving his friend the middle finger. 

Holding back a laugh, Chance pointed at the sound guy to queue up their music, then gave Tré and Brandon the signal to go out.

Thanks for reading!
Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
Sign up for my Newsletter to receive updates, free reads and more!

Champions of Desire Book 1: Showing Him the Ropes !
Amazon, Kobo, B&N, Apple

This is a work of fiction, written by Christa Tomlinson and protected by U.S. Copyright laws. It may not be reproduced, copied, or published without the express written permission of Christa Tomlinson.

Logan walked up the stairs to Clay’s loft apartment, eager to see his boyfriend. Of course, he was always happy to see Clay but tonight Logan was curious. When Clay noticed on the HPD SWAT schedule that they were on a day shift for this Friday, his blue eyes had lit up with excitement.
               
“Are you sure we’re not working a late night on March fourteenth?” he’d asked.

Logan had assured him they weren’t. Clay had whooped excitedly but didn’t say what he was so happy about. Logan asked him what was so special about that day, but Clay wouldn’t tell him no matter how many times he pressed. Now that March fourteenth was here, Logan would finally have his curiosity satisfied. Reaching Clay’s door, Logan knocked and waited.  on the delicious smell of well-seasoned meat coming from the apartment. A few seconds later, Clay opened the door. And Logan’s eyes almost fell out of his head. He always thought his boyfriend looked good, but tonight… tonight he looked amazing.

Clay’s short black hair lay in soft smooth waves. His jawline was clean shaven as usual and his blue eyes sparkled mischievously. His skin was already starting to show the beginnings of a tan and gleamed warm and golden in the soft light of his apartment. And there was a lot of that skin on display. Because from the looks of it Clay was naked save for two items. The dog tags around his neck that proclaimed he was Logan’s submissive. And a short, white apron. That was it.
               
“Happy Steak and Blowjob day!”
               
Logan stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him, still taking in his boyfriend’s mostly naked body. “Happy what?”
               
Clay grinned. “Steak and Blowjob Day.”
               
Logan tore his eyes away from his lover’s bare thighs. “Did you just make up a holiday?”
               
“I wish. Then maybe I could get royalties from the t-shirts or something. No, I don’t know who made it up. It’s the counterpart to Valentine’s day, where people return the favor of their significant others going all out with dinner and presents.” Clay grinned again and waved the metal tongs that Logan just now realized he was holding. “I figure since I’m the submissive I qualify for participation.”
               
Logan shook his head at his sub. Clay always managed to surprise him. “Are you completely naked under that apron?”
               
Clay gave him a wicked look from beneath his lashes. “Maybe.” Clay took three taunting backwards steps before he turned to walk into the kitchen.
               
And Logan saw him from the back. There was nothing but smooth, naked skin, except for the apron tie draped around his waist. “Christ. You are naked under there.” Logan followed his lover, his eyes locked on the sweetly rounded ass in front of him. When Clay stopped at the stove Logan walked up behind him to whisper in his ear. “Aren’t you afraid something will splatter and burn your bare skin?”
               
Clay looked at him over his shoulder. “No. Because I know you’ll kiss it and make it better.”          
              
Logan groaned softly. “You know I would.” He ran a palm over Clay’s shoulder. “I want to kiss and touch you everywhere.” Logan bent to kiss his lover’s mouth. As always, Clay submitted and opened up for him. Logan took advantage, sliding his tongue in to tangle with Clays, and sucking at his full bottom lip.
               
Clay pulled away, his lips deliciously swollen and red from their kiss. “Food now. Kissing and blowjobs later.”
               
Logan laughed and let Clay turn back to the stove. “So, what are you making me?”
               
“Steak, baked potatoes, broccoli and wild rice. French bread. And chocolate mousse for dessert.”
               
Logan was impressed. “You really went all out.”
               
“Yep. And I’m even going to eat some of everything myself. But you have to promise to help me work it off later.”
               
Logan was again distracted by all the naked skin in front of him. He trailed his fingers down Clay’s spine until he reached the curve of his ass, then caressed and squeezed the smooth flesh under his palm. He thought his sub looked perfect but he’d do whatever Clay wanted to keep him happy. “I’ll help you exercise. Are we talking horizontal or vertical?”
               
Clay laughed and looked over his shoulder again. “Dom’s choice.”
               
Logan squeezed Clay’s ass again until Clay swatted his hand away.
               
“Go sit down. Everything’s ready.”
               
Logan went over to Clay’s small dinette set and sat down. He poured himself a glass of the red wine waiting on the table and opened a bottle of root beer for Clay, while Clay fixed their plates and brought everything over.  Clay took a seat, but before he was settled he jerked forward with his eyes wide.
               
“What did you forget something?” Logan asked.
               
“No. Just uh… this metal chair is really cold on my butt.”
               
Logan smiled as he watched Clay gingerly ease onto the seat.  “Guess that’s a hazard of naked dinner night.”
               
Clay stuck his tongue out at him. He got comfortable and they both settled in to enjoy the dinner.

****
Twenty minutes later, Logan sat back with a well-satisfied sigh. “That was excellent, baby. Thank you.”
               
Clay finished his soda. “You’re welcome.” He wiped his fingers on a napkin and got up from the table and walked over to him. “The mousse should probably set a little while longer.”
               
Logan looked up into teasing blue eyes. “Is that right?”
               
Clay nodded.  “Yep. So, I was thinking we could move on to the second half of this holiday while it does.”
               
He held his hand out and Logan took it, allowing Clay to pull him up from his chair. Logan was normally the one in charge in their relationship, but for this night he was happy to let Clay take the lead. He followed along as Clay headed into the living room and let his boyfriend push him into the big overstuffed arm chair. Logan got comfortable, his arms braced on the rests while Clay kneeled at his feet.
               
“How do you always manage to look so calm and in control, even when you’re about to get your dick sucked?”
               
Logan smiled slightly but didn’t answer Clay’s question. “Take that apron off.”
               
Clay gave him a sheepish grin. “I forgot,” he said as he removed the apron and tossed it aside.

Logan set his feet apart so his sub could slide in between his legs. Clay reached out to unzip his jeans, slipping his fingers past denim and cotton to touch Logan’s shaft. Clay stroked him once, then tugged his clothes down past his hips. As Logan raised his hips to help, he looked down to where Clay was trailing his fingers up and down his shaft. The rest of him might look calm and in control, but his cock was definitely eager, already hard and slick at the tip.

Clay moaned softly and leaned in. He licked with just the tip of his tongue, circling it lightly over the head. Logan’s cock, apparently still trying to show how eager it was, jerked forward at the touch. Clay gave him a wicked smile then bent and sucked him fully into his mouth.
               
Logan groaned as Clay took him straight down to the base of his cock in one go. He relaxed even further into the chair and palmed the back of Clay’s head to pull him closer. Clay moaned as he slid forward, the sound vibrating along Logan’s shaft as Clay sucked him deep and slow. Logan’s eyes grew heavy lidded from the pleasure coursing through him, but he kept them on his lover. He watched as Clay sucked him, lips sliding up and down his shaft, dark lashes down and hiding the beauty of his blue eyes.
               
After a few moments, Logan reached out and cupped the side of Clay’s face. When his sub looked up at him, Logan didn’t have to say anything.  read him and knew that Logan wanted him to keep his eyes on him. Their eyes stayed locked as Clay sucked at his cock, licking down to tongue the heavy weight of his balls. Clay teased his tongue back up his shaft, flicking lightly at that spot that made intensely delicious sensations of pleasure radiate throughout his body. Logan tightened his fingers in Clay’s hair.
               
“You’re so good baby.  So perfect, on your knees serving your Dom.” A flush tinted Clay’s cheeks. Logan’s words of praise pleased his submissive. He gave him more, telling how good he made him feel, how much he loved feeling his perfect mouth on his cock. Clay moaned and braced a palm on Logan’s thigh. He sucked faster, taking Logan’s cock deep into his mouth again and again. Logan hissed as his body tightened. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me come.”
               
Clay’s fingers dug into his skin. He concentrated on sucking just the tip of his cock while he worked the rest of his shaft with his hand. A groan rumbled in Logan’s chest, his hips thrusting forward as he gripped the sides of the chair. His spine tingled. His cock throbbed in Clay’s mouth. Clay squeezed him in his fist and Logan lost it. He shouted his lover’s name, his body going rigid as his climax rushed through him. Clay moaned low in his throat when Logan came in his mouth. And he kept sucking, swallowing every drop.
               
Finally, after what seemed like an endless stream of powerful pleasure, Logan relaxed and released his grip on Clay’s hair. Clay let his shaft go and rested a cheek against his thigh, smiling up at him. After taking in one deep breath, Logan reached down to pull his sub up to straddle his lap.
               
“I love you. And that was wonderful. The steak. The blow job. All of it.”
               
“I love you too. And I’m glad you liked it.” The teasing sparkle returned to his eyes. “But I have a confession. I didn’t make the food. It’s from Isabelle’s.”
               
Logan laughed and smacked his sub on the ass. “I know you didn’t cook any of that. Pouring a bowl of cereal is the highlight of the culinary experience I’ve seen from you.”
               
Clay looked indignant. “Hey! It takes skill to get the perfect cereal to milk ratio.”
               
Logan shook his head and tugged Clay down into a kiss. “You’re such a brat. But that’s why I love you.”
               
Clay smiled against his mouth. “Happy Steak and Blowjob Day, Sir.”

Thank you for reading! You can check out the rest of Logan and Clay's story on
AMAZON   AMAZON UK  AMAZON CA  B&N.COM   KOBO  APPLE

Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
Sign up for my Newsletter to receive updates, free reads and more!

Writing is awesome. I love it. I get to sit at my desk and make up stories and have snacks and coffee while I work. But it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Life as a writer can be hard on our health and bodies, unless we’re proactive in taking care of ourselves.

So far, I’ve been fairly poor at this. I’d like to improve my health and thought I’d share with you a few steps I plan to take. Of course, this isn’t to be considered as medical advice, and you should definitely consult with your health professional. I am only sharing my own (able-bodied) experiences.

Movement
The more I write, the more I weigh. It’s pretty easy to see why. Writing is, for the most part, a sedentary career. Currently, I have what I fondly refer to as Author’s Butt – meaning it’s big. In my case, it’s my own fault for slacking off in my physical activity and exercise.

What can I do to help combat this? Get up and move! I’m building the habit of writing in forty-five minute increments. After that I get up and move around for a few minutes. Sometimes I take the dogs out with me to check the mail. Sometimes I’ll go and fold a load of laundry and put it away. But most times I have a little dance party. I’ll put on a favorite song, and booty pop to it for a few minutes. It helps get the blood flowing.

I also go for a walk during my lunch break. And I’m working exercise into my schedule. I don’t have room for a treadmill desk in my apartment, but I’ve heard great things from those who use one. That might be something I look into one day. Just do what you can to get your body moving throughout the day.

Eye Health
For the past few months, I really thought I needed glasses. On some days my vision would be so blurry it was hard to see, and I kept getting headaches. I went to the doctor for an eye exam and to my surprise she told me I didn’t need glasses. All of my problems seemed to be from eye strain. Which means I need to take better care of my eyes since I’m on the computer all day. A few tips:

1) Drink water and stay hydrated!

2) Use eye drops to keep eyes moisturized. Dry eyes were a problem for me with my little space heater blowing hot hair in my face during Houston’s admittedly short cold season.

3) Wear tinted computer glasses. I’ve owned a pair of these for several years and they definitely help me. They cut back on the glare from the computer screen. On days I don’t wear them, I tend to be prone to squinting and headaches.

4) Set up the computer screen for optimal viewing. Make sure it’s at a height so that you don’t have to strain your neck looking either up or down to see it. I’ve got my monitor set on top of stacked Buffy graphic novels because it was so low I hurt my neck looking down all day. I’ve also adjusted the brightness so that it’s comfortable for my eyes. And as an alternative to the computer glasses, anti-glare screen covers are great.

5) Take breaks from the computer. A good rule of thumb seems to be looking away from the computer every twenty minutes and focusing on something off in the distance for twenty seconds.

6) Get off the computer when tired! There have been far too many nights I’ve pushed myself staying up late into the night to write and my tired eyes were never happy about it.

If you’re having any issues with your vision, be sure to start with an eye exam to rule out other possible causes.

Hands
I won’t even pretend to know anything about serious issues like Carpal Tunnel. But I do know that healthy hands are important for writers! Wrists rests for both the keyboard and mouse pad are great for keeping your hands at angles that don’t strain your wrists as you type. You can also do wrist exercises to keep them strong and limber. A Google search will lead you to a few like ball gripping (heh-heh), flexing, etc.

Back
TAKE CARE OF YOUR BACK. This is so important. Twice I’ve strained my back writing while sitting in kooky positions. Once I ended up having to write laying on the floor for nearly a week the pain was so bad.

If possible, try not to write hunched over sitting on the floor, or slouched over to the side in an uncomfortable chair. The side slouch is what got me. Yowza those spasms were painful! An ergonomic chair with arm rests is probably the best option. But those aren’t cheap and we aren’t made of money.

You can try a slip on back rest made to go over the back of your chair. I've seen them for about $20-$25. Or do whatever works best for you, whether that’s a rolled up towel or pillow stuffed behind your back. The point is to be sure you are sitting in a position that’s good for your back and helps you have good posture.

Another option is to have a standing desk. Since those aren’t always a possibility for everyone due to cost or space, there’s cool lectern-type portable setups. I’ve had one on my wish list forever and eventually I’m going to go ahead and purchase it. And of course, don’t forget to get up and move throughout the day to help keep your back and backside muscles active.

Those are my tips! A few things that might help to keep our bodies healthy as we create stories for our readers to enjoy. Thanks for reading!

Love,
Christa
Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
Follow me around the internet! Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Goodreads, BookBub
Sign up for my Newsletter to receive updates, free reads and more!

Showing Him the Ropes is now available with a brand new cover!
Amazon, Kobo, B&N, Apple

In 2016 I launched a new series – Champions of Desire. Book one is Showing Him the Ropes, a m/m romance with mentor-mentee, older-younger, secret office romance tropes. Chance is in the twilight of his professional wrestling career, while Devin is an emerging talent. I love the story, the characters, and the idea for the entire series. I’m a huge fan of professional wrestling and I’ve watched off and on since I was a kid. I was excited to write a series set in one of my favorite settings.

But… I was also nervous. I’m well aware that a lot of people who aren’t professional wrestling fans, look down on wrestling. My own mother always asks my dad, ‘Why are you watching that? It’s fake.’ It’s pretty easy to see that there are very few books with professional wrestling as the backdrop. There’s lots of MMA but romance featuring main characters who work the squared circle for a living are few and far between.

So I had fear. What if it bombed? What if Reddit Squared Circle got a hold of the book, and there was a huge thread making fun of it, and then they all went on a one-star review spree on Amazon?! Oh my god the horror. Or, even worse, what if a professional wrestler came across it and dogged it out on Twitter for all the world to see?

Yeah. I’m dramatic AF and make up worst case scenarios in my head all the time.

For the record, none of that happened. In fact, a professional wrestler friend of mine gave me some cool encouragement and advice on places to promote the book. But. When it was released, Ropes didn’t do well. The people who did read it really loved it! I received lots of positive messages, and the reviews on Amazon, Goodreads and the blog tour were solid. Thanks everyone! On the other hand, sales wise… Yeesh. It was painful. There could have been several factors at play there.

1) Maybe the blurb wasn’t that hot.
2) Maybe readers didn’t like the cover.
3) Maybe the story sucked.

The biggest failure lies with me, however. I didn’t promote it as much as I should have. One, I was in the middle of leaving my day job at the time and deciding to put my house up for sale at the same time I was finishing and releasing the book. I was uncomfortable at that job and my time management for doing multiple things at once is negative 1 on a scale of 1 - 10. Basically I was under a lot of personal stress while I was birthing Showing Him the Ropes into the world. I also didn't take into account the shifting dynamics of the ebook market and the challenges of starting a new series.

But if I could be painfully honest with you guys, the biggest problem was my own fear. I was so scared that people wouldn’t like or would make fun of the book that I did that thing where I sort of run and hide so I don’t have to face any possible criticism. Which meant I didn’t promote Chance and Devin very much.

So when sales were poor (and I mean pooooor) I said to myself, “Self. That series is DOA. Nobody wants to read a wrestling romance. Pack it up and move on." But I have another but. Readers kept reaching out to me and asking would there be a book two. They wanted Tre and Brandon’s story. And you know what? I wanted their story too. I took some time, thought about it and realized I didn’t give my sexy wrestling dudes a fair shake.

As a result, I’ve decided to re-launch the Champions of Desire series. Yay! I worked with my amazing editor Jae Ashley to tighten Chance and Devin’s story and write a more dynamic blurb. I also wanted a fresh start with the cover, so after a hilarious cover model selection poll on Twitter and Facebook, I reached out to Melody Simmons at BookCoversCre8tive to give Showing Him the Ropes a brand-new look. I think Chance and Devin look very nice together.

When a Gruff Veteran Meets an Irrepressible Rookie, Who Will Come Out on Top?
Chance “The Chancellor” Gerhardt – multi-time champion and respected veteran of the locker room – worries he’s entering the twilight of his professional wrestling career. All he wants is one more shot at a championship title run. Instead, his boss saddles him with mentoring a hot, young rookie, Devin Jacobs.

Devin has admired The Chancellor for years, and he’s thrilled to work up close and personal with the steely eyed older wrestler. But while Devin learns from his mentor, he can’t resist admiring the man’s deliciously burly physique.

Trapped together in the intimacy of late-night road trips and shared hotel rooms, longing glances lead to whispered confessions of desire. Devin would love to bring a little warmth and sexiness to his hero’s cold and solitary life. Unfortunately, Chance refuses the rookie’s flirting. After years in the business, he knows their careers will be ruined if their relationship is discovered by the fans. But Devin won’t let that fear stop him from going after everything he wants – championship gold and the man he desires.

Can Devin find a way to prove to Chance that they can have it all? Or will their shot at love be defeated 1-2-3?

If you haven’t read it yet, Showing Him the Ropes is currently on sale for .99 on Amazon, Kobo, B&N, and Apple (Apple link coming soon).

I’m also very happy to announce that book 2 in the Champions of Desire series will be available in March! Tre and Brandon have their own story with In His Corner. If you’d like an early look at the cover as well as a sneak peek, sign up for my Newsletter.

In the coming weeks I’ll have goodies and free short stories, so be sure to follow me on social media or subscribe to this blog. I’m excited. Sexy wrestling dudes for the win.

Thanks for reading!
Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
Follow me around the internet! Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Goodreads, BookBub
View my titles on Amazon – Apple – B&N – Kobo
Sign up for my Newsletter to receive updates, free reads and more!
Showing Him the Ropes: Amazon, Kobo, B&N

It’s Valentine’s Day! You know what that means. Lots of pictures posted from your friends where they have their cheek smushed really close together with their significant other’s cheek as they smile into the camera. Flowers, candy, and teddy bears delivered to offices and classrooms. Then an abrupt few hours of quiet on social media as couples and throuples have dinner, put on a little mood music and do whatever it is they do.
I wouldn’t know of course. I’m an innocent angel.

But wait! There’s one more thing happening today. Romance authors are coming out of the woodwork. We’ve practiced all year for this. We’ve stretched. And now, it’s our time to shine, baby!

Just for you, we’ve got discounted books, giveaways and we’ve got book freebies. Our entire industry is all about love, and we want to invite you in and share it with you. But maybe you’re wondering. I don’t know… romance novels? Are they for me?

Well, I’m here to tell you they are, because romance novels are awesome. So without further ado, here’s my Top Five Reasons Romance Novels are Awesome. (Okay, I know that title isn’t particularly imaginative but I thought of it before I had my coffee. Cut me some slack.)

1) Any sub-genre you’re in the mood for, we’ve got it.
I suspect that people outside the wonderful world of romance novels think there’s only two types: the Harlequin-type contemporary with a rich hero or historicals set in a British castle. While we do have those and they are lovely, there’s so much more!

There’s romantic suspense, science fiction, fantasy, urban fantasy, Westerns, sports, motorcycle clubs, military, shape-shifters, vampires, Amish, Inspirational, and many more. We are a wide and varied genre, my friend. Not to mention there’s various degrees of physical intimacy, from full-on erotic romance to fade to black after a chaste kiss, and everything in between.

2) There are lots of different people represented between the covers. (Book covers you perv. But also bed covers, you know what I’m sayin’? Hubba-hubba)

Romance novels used to be uh… restricted in the types of characters that appeared on the page. But year after year, more and more authors from diverse backgrounds are writing characters who are diverse as well. Multiculturalism is represented. The LGBT rainbow also gets lots of shine from authors writing relationships with characters who are gay, lesbian, transgender, ace and more. But wait, that’s not all! Our fabulous genre also has variety in age, body type and abilities. You want it, we’ve got it.

Check out Women in Color Romance and Romance Novels in Color for romance written by POC authors and featuring multicultural love interests, and Queer in Color for romance with queer and diverse characters.

3) We evolve with the times.
Okay, okay. We got a bad rap with that whole “bodice ripper” thing.

Yes, there were some novels where consent was questionable and a woman or two was thrown over the back of a horse. But you can’t assume an entire genre wrote that. Just like you can’t assume an entire genre only uses the abuse, death, and rape of women as plot devices to advance a man’s character development. Ooops! Sorry, that was snarky. My bad. Back to the love!

Every year, the romance genre takes strides to show on the page things like safe sex and consent. And it’s not boring, “Excuse me, heroine do you want my penis that is covered by latex in your vagina?” It’s sexy. More along the lines of a husky whisper asking if a touch feels nice and if their partner wants more of it. So basically our heroes and heroines ask for consent, but they make it sexy.

4) We don’t mock love and relationships.
When romance authors are writing about love, we mean it. We don’t make fun of the person who wants a relationship. We don’t sneer at emotion. We don’t laugh at grand gestures. When romance authors put those scenes on the page we mean them 100%. We’re trying to give you the feels, man.

Go ahead and cry, laugh, scream and rip your shirt off and wave it over your head as you run out into the street to tell all your neighbors how much you loved it when the hero fell to his knees and confessed that he wants to wear his Dom’s collar. (I wrote that. You can read it in The Sergeant) We’ll be right there with you in spirit. Actually, we probably did the same thing when we wrote the scene.

5) You know you’ll get a happy ending.
All that love we give you in our books? We promise we won’t snatch it away at the end. With romance novels you are guarandamnteed a happy ending. The love interests are together. There’s no bittersweet ending. No will they or won’t they. Nothing ambiguous. That is our promise to you. So if you know you are in the mood for something where everything ends well and happy (and boy do we need that sometimes), pick up a romance novel.

And that concludes our Five Reasons Romance Novels are Awesome list! On this, the Day of Love or any other time you want to read some good shit, we’ll be here with our books waiting to share them with you.

Happy Valentine’s Day and thanks for reading!
Love,
Christa

My Cuffs, Collars & Love series is on sale for .99 each this week only!
Amazon - Apple - B&N - Kobo
Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
Follow me around the internet! Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Goodreads, BookBub
View my titles on Amazon
Sign up for my Newsletter to receive updates, free reads and more!

It's National Novel Writing Month or as the cool kids call it, NaNoWriMo. If you're reading this blog, you probably already know what Nano is. If not, let me give you a quick breakdown.

National Novel Writing Month is when writers across the globe - budding, published or otherwise - commit to writing 50,000 words in the month of November. It's a challenge to help writers get those words down with the goal of having a (semi) finished novel at month's end. My friend Monica first hipped me to it back in 2010.

Now I know what you're thinking. Christa, you're already published several times over. Why do you need to participate in NaNo? Well my friend, the answer is two-fold. First, I want to work on my writing speed. I can finish a book, but I take too long to do it. I'm hoping that by participating in NaNo, I can get focused and write straight through, without stopping to ponder and agonize over my draft for a month.

I also want to participate because I'm writing something vastly different from my published books. I'm finally, finally FINALLY writing the historical fantasy that I've been wanting to do for several years. Since I've only published contemporary so far, I almost feel like I'm starting over. So I've got all the nerves that go with writing a first book.

So what's my WIP about? I'll tell ya. Last week I did a Twitter meme: 1 Like = 1 Fact about My NanoWriMo Work In Progress. I'll share them here as well.

1) I changed the ethnicity of one of my main characters because I wanted to use gorgeous Willy Carter as a muse.

2) I have to research birds for this WIP even though I'm terrified of them & don't even like to look at them. I'm already regretting this decision.

3) I came up with the idea for this story four years ago. I gave Hero #2 two swords because Lancelot looked cool with them in King Arthur.

4) This WIP is trope-tastic! I researched tropes like Body Guard Babes, Big Heroic Run & After Action Healing on TV Tropes. It's gonna be a total popcorn fest and I already love it.

5) The geography of the kingdom is based off the bluffs that Cahokia Mounds & later, St. Louis, Missouri were built on.

6) I'll be writing my first on-page deaths of named characters. I'm already in mourning for them.

7) I latched onto Sheith from Voltron as an OTP (One True Pair) ship because they fit the Tol & Smol dynamic of my WIP's main characters. They also share a lot of their tropes. I've got a whole blog post on this coming later.

8) I was originally going to have the king's posse all with shaved heads. But decided later that was boring looks-wise.

9) My cast of characters is very diverse.  In my WIP's world, people travel, settle & marry without regard to race

10) I'm researching cults & mass suicides like Jonestown. The series will get a little dark sometimes.

11) Hero #1 is straight-forward & naively expects everyone around him to be the same. He also wears tight, black leather pants. Meow!

12) Much to the disgust of warriors, battle & death often influences the fashion of the court.

13) I'm writing this in multiple Point of Views - three or possibly four. Eeeeek!

14) I almost named a character after one of the dudes from Jodeci but decided to name him Cornelius instead. I'm not actually sure that's better.

15) I'll be writing my first on-page lesbian couple. I plan to give them their own book in the series in the future.

16) Hero #2 is demisexual, which influences his 'warrior monk' personality.

17) I haven't discovered the character flaws for Hero #2 yet. So far he's perfect. And perfect characters are usually boring, so I'd better find out his issues STAT.

I only made it to 17 on Twitter, but I'll do a few bonus facts here so I can have a nice even Twenty.

18) I'm considering doing another story within a story type deal. Like I did with the Supreme Might of Love. We'll see. I'm still pondering.

19) The opening scene arose from a tweet I posted several years back, where I joked I was going to write a fanfic spin on The Hunger Games with the men oiled, sexy & fighting in loincloths.  My OG OTP were going to be the main characters in that fic. If you dig you can find out who that is. Or if you've been around me since 2012 you already know.

20) Throne Sex.

And that's it! I'll be checking in this month with more news on my Nano WIP. And hopefully by November 30, I'll have 50,000 words to start my first historical fantasy.

Wish me luck and thanks for reading!
Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
Follow me around the internet! Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Goodreads, BookBub
View my titles on Amazon
Sign up for my Newsletter to receive updates, free reads and more!
Pre-Order A Sniper’s Devotion AMAZON   AMAZON UK   AMAZON CA   KOBO   APPLE

Let’s get personal for a moment. If you’ve read the blurb for A Sniper’s Devotion, you know that the book has a warning for scenes of domestic violence. I haven’t talked about this in years, but I’d like to share my own brief brush with domestic violence.

In my early twenties I dated a guy – let’s call him Bruce. He was a friend and co-worker at the restaurant where I worked, and he ended up being my rebound guy. He was great as a friend. Not so much as a boyfriend. I realized pretty early on that the relationship wasn’t going to be THE ONE.

There were a few things that made my Spidey senses tingle: he bragged about how many women he’d slept with, which was a lot. High double digits a lot. He lied about his age. He was actually about ten years older than he’d been telling people. When sharing stories of his past, he called women who he felt had done him wrong bitches, and said how badly he wanted to hit them.

When I got a shiny new car as a graduation gift to myself, he always wanted to drive it. I let him a few times because I wanted to show off how cool it was, but then he started demanding to drive it. One day when I refused, he got mad and wouldn’t accept me saying no. Like, he literally sat in the driver’s seat of my car angrily pouting and wouldn’t get out.

Taken together, I should have seen that there were serious issues there. But he’d been my friend for over a year by that point and all couples have problems right? So I didn’t see it as that big of a deal. But then the relationship started to get really rocky.

I’d broken up with him once already, mostly because I knew that I wasn’t feeling anything permanent between us. But he played the sad, hurt card and I got back together with him out of guilt. (Never stay with someone out of guilt) I now know he was manipulating me.

But since things were so rocky, I started paying more attention to the warning signs he was giving off. A new one that went up was his behavior with a female co-worker. And here’s where I made my biggest mistake. Instead of breaking up with him, I got jealous. I mentioned as a “joke” to him a couple of times that he had a thing for her.

One day I caught him in a lie about the female co-worker. When I mentioned it and he didn’t say anything I walked away. It was the end of a long weekend shift and I was ready to go home. I went to the employee restroom before heading out. Unfortunately, the night wasn’t over for me. He followed me into the women’s restroom, slamming the door open and almost hitting me with it. He got up in my personal space, yelling and cursing.

I tried to leave. He wouldn’t let me. I’m just under five six and at the time I was about one hundred thirty-five pounds. He was a former defensive back. Six foot something and well over two hundred pounds. He stood in the doorway continuing to yell and wouldn’t move when I asked him several times so I could leave.

I was trapped in a small bathroom with nowhere to go. No one came to help me. Scared and furious, I spit on him and he finally got out of the way. Was that the wrong move? Absolutely, but I wasn’t sure how else to get him out of the way.

I tried again to walk away. I only made it as far as two steps into the restaurant proper before he attacked me. He grabbed my arm, slinging me around. I was wearing a winter coat so I got away from him only because my arm slid out of the sleeve. By the time he was finished yanking me back and forth, the coat was ripped in half and there were goose down feathers all over the smoking section. Again, no one did anything to help. Once I got loose I ran to the lobby and called the police.

The good thing is they came pretty quickly. The bad is they weren’t terribly helpful. Didn’t seem to care and advised me not to press charges. He said Bruce was going to be arrested anyway because he had warrants. I was crying, clueless and scared so I said fine. I just wanted to be able to get to my car safely. Knowing he had to spend at least one night in the pokey was enough.

As far as I was concerned the relationship and friendship were dead. He didn’t feel the same. He called me a few times, wanting to give me back my stuff. The stuff? A couple of CDs and I think maybe a book. Inconsequential. I told him to keep it or trash it. I didn’t care which. He didn’t. He showed up at my other job – I was a study seminar teacher at a high school, and called me from the parking lot to come outside so we could talk. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

When that didn’t work, he had his mom call me asking would I meet with him because he wanted to try and talk things out and to get his stuff back. His stuff was an apartment key and some other small item. I said no I won’t meet with him but I’ll happily mail the key back to him. I did and FINALLY that was that. I never heard from or saw Bruce again.

Once Bruce one hundred percent showed his true colors, it was easy for me to end things with him. I didn’t love him at all and I had strong support from my parents who made it clear that wasn’t acceptable behavior for a boyfriend. There was never any question that I would be going back to him. And let's be clear, I'm not saying that I never did anything wrong. It's obvious that I made several mistakes in that relationship. But I didn’t have to keep making them.

I was lucky. Many people are not. Many people succumb to the let’s talk, I’m sorry routine. Many people aren’t able to leave because there are children involved or a multitude of other reasons.

In writing Miguel’s story, I tried to convey this struggle to escape an abuser with compassion and understanding. Of course, since he’s a fictional character, Miguel’s problems were much, much bigger than mine. I didn’t have to rebuild my life after a short relationship with a guy who turned out to be a jackass. But some of my favorite parts of A Sniper’s Devotion to write were Miguel experiencing how to be on his own. I was proud of him. I hope you’ll be proud of him too.

A portion of the proceeds from A Sniper’s Devotion will be donated to the Montrose Center which helps the Houston LGBT Community, including those who are victims of Domestic Violence.

Thanks for reading!

Love,
Christa

Pre-Order A Sniper’s Devotion AMAZON   AMAZON UK   AMAZON CA   KOBO   APPLE
Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
Follow me around the internet! Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Goodreads, BookBub
View my titles on Amazon
Sign up for my Newsletter to receive updates, free reads and more!

Hello and Happy Sunday! I am in a super-duper good mood because my next book releases in just over two weeks. If you missed it earlier this week, allow me to present to you the cover and blurb for A Sniper’s Devotion.

Officer Hector Castillo, a sniper on Houston’s elite SWAT team, is content living alone as a perpetual bachelor. But when he opens up his small apartment to a friend in need, their close quarters awaken long suppressed desires Hector can’t help but acknowledge.

Miguel Delgado’s unfortunate detour down a road he never intended to travel ends in a big wake up call, but he vows to get himself back on track. Though he’s always looked up to Hector, Miguel isn’t a kid with hero-worship anymore, and his schoolyard protector has matured into a strong and caring man – who happens to look damn sexy in his SWAT uniform.

Though their physical attraction to each other is undeniable, Hector and Miguel try hard to resist and protect their friendship. Until one night changes everything…  

A Sniper’s Devotion is a loving and sexy, friends to lovers erotic romance. Hector and Miguel’s story is part of the Cuffs, Collars and Love series, but it is a stand-alone novel.
 
Ah, happiness. Hector and Miguel’s story was a joy to write. It made me sad at times, but I really do love the characters. It was also bittersweet, because A Sniper’s Devotion is the last in the Cuffs, Collars and Love series. I’m saying goodbye to my SWAT boys and moving on. Thank you so much to everyone who loved these guys and supported the series.

But I have more to share! The first chapter of A Sniper’s Devotion is now up for you to get your eyeballs on. You can scroll to the bottom of this post and read it here. It’s also available on the A Sniper’s Devotion page on my website, where there’s goodies like excerpts and my writing play list. You can also check out the first chapter on my Facebook Page.

And that’s not all! (I really missed my calling as an infomercial sales woman) If you’re interested in getting your hands on an e-copy of A Sniper’s Devotion, there are two ways to win. First, you can enter HERE on my website. The only thing you’ll need is your first name, email and book format preference. You can also enter on Library Thing. But it does require you to have an account with them.  Both contests begin today October 22nd and end October 29th. Don't forget! Scroll to the bottom to read Chapter 1.

Thanks for reading!

Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
Follow me around the internet! Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Goodreads, BookBub
View my titles on Amazon
Sign up for my Newsletter for freebies, release news and more!
Books 1-4 in the Cuffs, Collars & Love series:  AMAZON  B&N.COM  KOBO & APPLE

Chapter 1

Hector sighed with exhaustion as he drove up to his apartment building. The long, solitary drive back from his friend's wedding in the Texas Hill Country had tired him out, and the late hour had him ready for bed. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be going to sleep anytime soon. Drama waited for him inside his apartment. He sighed again. It was a sad day when a man dreaded going into his own home. Hector sucked it up and turned off the ignition. He was here now, so he might as well get in there and find out what the hell was going on.

When he walked inside, he immediately noticed the young man sitting on his couch. Though uninvited, he was a friend from long ago, so Hector gave him a relaxed greeting. "Hey, Miguel. How are you?"

The dark-haired young man shrugged, a lopsided smile on his handsome face. "Been better."

Hector tossed his keys down on the end table. Miguel's mouth was puffy and split, a purplish bruise blooming on his cheek. The sight of the injury put Hector on immediate alert, ready to find out who’d hurt his friend. Before he could ask him about it, the door to his bedroom opened and Hector's mother came out. He didn't bother asking why she was in there with the door closed. From Miguel's face, he knew something had gone down.