Month: June 2019

FREE Gay Fiction Excerpt: A STARR IS BORN; 14 Celebrities Who’ve Come Out So Far In 2019; Ryan Field Books

A Starr is Born by [Field, Ryan]FREE Gay Fiction Excerpt: A STARR IS BORN

In honor of Pride 2019, I’m posting one more excerpt from my newest release, A STARR IS BORN. Of course I’ll continue to post free excerpts all year long, but not as often as I have been during Pride Month.

Here’s a link to Amazon, and here’s the excerpt, below.

14 Celebrities Who’ve Come Out So Far In 2019

I never take these things for granted. There are still millions of LGBT people who have not come out yet, for their own valid reasons, and I think it’s wonderful each time someone does come out. Coming out for anyone is a personal, individual decision that can never be taken lightly.

And it’s not always as simple as people think it is.

As society accepts the evolving definitions of sexuality and gender, the process of coming out has become more complex. Stars like Sam Smith and Jonathan Van Ness – celebs we already knew as gay – are now publicly celebrating their nonbinary gender identifies.

Here’s a link to more, with a list of 14 celebrities along with photos.

Chapter Ten
For the next week and a half, they rehearsed The Last Man every afternoon until Morton couldn’t get it out of his head. They had to take a break on the weekend because Morton explained to Harrison that he had previous commitments that had been booked months earlier at LGBTQ venues in New York. On Friday night he was booked as part of a drag revue in Brooklyn, in a club he’d played many times before. On Saturday he was booked at one of the biggest LGBTQ bars in Manhattan to perform with some of the biggest names on the drag circuit. And on Sunday he had to go to a club in Philadelphia to perform with a few old friends of his dads. It was an afternoon benefit and he didn’t get paid at all to perform in the Philadelphia club, but he did that charity show every year as a favor to his dads’ old friends. Plus, he had that ‘never say no’ rule, and he would perform anywhere anyone asked him to perform.
When Harrison heard his schedule, he smiled and said, “Well that’s perfect.”
Morton tilted his head sideways. “Why is that perfect? It’s what I normally do. I’ve done these performances thousands of times.”
“It’s perfect because you’ll be in Philadelphia on Sunday,” Harrison said. “I have a concert in Philadelphia that’s going to be huge. It’s been sold out for months. You can join me there after your benefit. I’ll send a car for you and you can meet me backstage.”
“I don’t know,” Morton said. “That’s an awful lot of running around for me. And by the time my benefit is over, your concert will just be beginning. I won’t have time to change.”
“So come in your usual costume,” Harrison said. “Come in a dress.”
“Are you sure it’s not an imposition?” Morton asked. He still wanted to play it safely with Harrison. As much as he cared for him, he noticed that everything Harrison did was so spur of the moment and confusing. He acted on impulse and Morton was used to planning well in advance.
“If it was an imposition I wouldn’t have asked you in the first place,” Harrison said. “Besides, I want to see you. I won’t see you on Friday or Saturday. At least I’ll see you on Sunday.” Then he put his arm around him and kissed him on the mouth, and Morton couldn’t resist him.
On Sunday afternoon Morton took the train to Philadelphia and got ready for his performance in the dressing room in the back of a small Center City Philadelphia gay bar that had been in business since the 1970s.  He wore his usual black knit mini-dress and black stilettos, but without the long blond wig. He wanted to travel lightly so that everything he needed would fit into the satchel he carried around everywhere. The only make-up he wore was red lip-gloss, a little bronzer, some eyeliner and false eyelashes. He’d been working harder on his look so that he’d appear more gender neutral on stage. Even though he knew a lot of the other drag performers were whispering behind his back, he seemed to resonate with audiences much better when he wasn’t trying too hard to impersonate a woman. It all seemed to work better for him when he just went out on stage to sing as a man who was more interested in gender bending in a sexy, provocative way.
While he was waiting to go on stage to perform at the benefit, Harrison texted him and said there would be a car outside waiting for him the moment he finished. He replied with a simple “K” and prepared for his entrance. There was a huge crowd in the bar that afternoon and he wanted to be good. The moment they introduced him, he took a deep breath, lifted his head high, and walked onto the stage with a huge smile. While they applauded, he started singing one of the old songs he used to perform with his dads. And by the time he finished his act, they were waving their arms and shouting for him to do just one more. It was a good audience that afternoon, and he didn’t want to let them down. So he did one more number, and then he ran backstage, shoved his things into his satchel, and ran out to the street to find the car Harrison had sent for him.
It took about 20 minutes for the car to reach the concert hall where Harrison was performing that evening. The driver dropped him off in the back at the stage door and he found Sam waiting for him there. As he climbed out of the car, Sam waved him inside and said, “C’mon. We’re ready to begin. He won’t go on stage until he knows you’re here.”
“I’m rushing as fast as I can,” Morton said. “It’s not easy to run in stilettos.” His regular clothes were in his satchel and he planned to change inside as soon as he could. “Why on Earth won’t he go on without me? That doesn’t make sense.”
Sam took him by the arm and guided him into the building. “Nothing Harrison does ever makes sense. You’d better get used to it.”
 As they ran through the back part of the concert hall, he kept telling Sam to slow down, but Sam kept saying they didn’t have time to slow down. When they finally reached the backstage area he heard the band playing and he could smell marijuana coming from the audience. At the exact moment he lifted his head and looked forward, he saw Harrison standing in the wings with his arms spread out and a huge smile on his face.
“You’re here,” Harrison said.
“Of course I’m here. I said I’d be here.” He had a feeling Harrison had been snorting coke again. He seemed extra-animated and far too happy, as if nothing could have ruined his day. Morton had seen that look before. His dad, Albert, who had the drinking problem did coke sometimes before a show. Albert  used to smile and say, “It’s just a little pick-me-up medicine.”
Harrison grabbed him and kissed him on the mouth. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” He hugged him and patted him on the butt. “You look great. No one else on Earth could pull that off except you.”
“Well thanks for your approval,” Morton said. “Now get your ass out there and sing. Those people are stomping on the floor now. They paid good money to hear you.” The only thing Morton cared about was the show. It wasn’t even his show, and yet that was his only focus at that moment. He truly believed those people deserved to get what they came there for, and he didn’t want Harrison to screw it up for them.
“Here I go,” Harrison said.
As he watched Harrison run onto the stage, he took a quick breath and hoped it would be a good show without Harrison pulling any of his ridiculous pranks again. The audience was cheering and shouting his name, and instead of being elated Harrison looked as if he wanted to get even with them. He seemed to have a self-destructive tendency that didn’t make sense to anyone who knew him well, especially Morton. He’d just finished a small time drag show, in a small gay club most people would never know about, and he didn’t even get paid for it. Morton had shown more respect for his audience than Harrison seemed to have for all those thousands of people screaming his name.
Sam and Morton exchanged a quick glance, and then Harrison picked up his microphone and started singing his signature song. This was the song that had made him a superstar, and the song that he’d made popular in households all over the world. It was the kind of rock music that was as classic as it was pop, with strong lyrics and a melody that was hard to forget.
A few seconds into the song, however, Harrison stopped singing and said, “This is bullshit. I’m sick of this goddamn song. I’m sure you’re sick of it, too. I’ve got something really special for you guys tonight. You’re going to love this. You’re going to meet Morton Starr, the man I love.” Then he put the microphone down and started walking backstage.
The audience started to roar.
Morton looked at Sam. “What the hell is he doing now?”
Sam shrugged. “I have no idea.”
Harrison went into the wings where Morton was standing and said, “C’mon, you’re going out there with me. We’re singing The Last man.”
Morton took a step back. “The hell I am.” He looked at Sam. “Do something.”
Sam shrugged again, as if he’d already given up on Harrison and he expected to see him fall on his face.
“C’mon,” Harrison said. He had his arm and he wouldn’t release it.
“I need rehearsal,” Morton said. “I’m not going out there to perform without rehearsal.”
“We rehearsed this song all week,” Harrison said.
“I want it to be perfect,” Morton said. “I need to check the lights. I need to know my mark. I can’t just go out there come hither as if this is a high school production. Now let go of my arm and get your ass back out there and sing for those people.”
Harrison grabbed his arm tighter and gave him one good yank. He practically dragged him to the middle of the stage, and the crowd roared even louder.
Morton’s heart started to race and he felt cold and clammy all over. His palms were sweating and he wanted to run back into the wings, down the hall, and all the way back to New York.
But he didn’t move. He stood there while the people screamed and Harrison picked up the microphone again. “Ladies and gentleman,” Harrison said. He gestured to Morton the same dramatic way a ringmaster would gesture to a circus act. “This is the love of my life, Mr. Morton Starr. He’s a wonderful, talented performer and he’d going to sing with me tonight. It’s a very special song, and you’re gonna love it. Now shut the fuck up and listen.”
The audience started to boo and hiss, and Morton grabbed Harrison’s black T-shirt and said, “They don’t want to hear me. They want you. Let me go backstage.”
“Fuck them,” Harrison said. He turned to the audience and said, “Fuck you, assholes.”
Morton felt a little nauseous. “Oh, dear God. We’re all screwed this time.”
It was too late to do anything by then. The band started to play the intro to The Last Man, and Harrison put his arm around Morton and kissed him on the mouth in front of all those people. Morton had no choice but to play along with him. If for no other reason than to save Harrison’s ass from total embarrassment, he had to focus on the rehearsals he’d done that week with Harrison. He did know the song, and he wasn’t a total amateur. He knew he had to sing, and he had to be good. His own willingness to go along with this was the only thing that mattered.
The music grew louder and Harrison kissed him on the mouth again. It was the first time Morton had ever been kissed in public in front of that many people. Even though gay men were getting so much support from the mainstream now, any sings of affection tended to be treated with caution. Most gay men didn’t kiss in public, didn’t hold hands in public, and rarely ever showed any signs of sexuality. So Morton wasn’t sure how this would all go over with people, and it’s not as if he had any choices about it either.
Then something interesting happened. Harrison handed the microphone to Morton and he started singing. At first, his voice was a little shaky, but after the first few notes the audience grew quieter and his heart stopped racing. He felt a sense of calm overtake his entire body, and the music flowed so naturally it was as if they were back in Harrison’s safe studio and they were the only two people on the planet. By the time he reached the end of the first verse, the only sound in that concert hall was his voice.
The Last Manwas one of those rock songs that start out slowly and build to a grand, high energy finale. Even though it was a duet intended to be sung by two men in love, it was written to be one-sided on purpose and Morton sang the majority of the song. He took the lead and Harrison followed, almost as if he was a backup singer. They gazed at each other and it felt as though Morton could feel his soul penetrate Harrison’s. He’d never experienced energy like this before, and it gave him more confidence than he knew he had.
The music flowed through them, in between them, and all around them. By the time they reached the finale they were both so into the song it was as if they’d been performing together their entire lives. When they reached the ending, Morton didn’t expect Harrison to grab him by the waist, pull him up against his body, and throw his arms around him in front of thousands of people. There wasn’t much he could do. The audience was cheering and applauding so loudly he rested his palms on Harrison’s shoulders and submitted to his kiss completely.
Although Morton had become engrossed in the song and their performance, he was also thrilled to know that it was over and he could go backstage with Sam and watch the rest of Harrison’s show from a distance. He backed away from Harrison and turned to the audience and gave them a slight bow of thanks. As he did this, Harrison picked up the microphone again and said, “Thank you, thank you all very much. Now please quiet down so Morton can do one more songs for you, alone.”
Then he handed the microphone to Morton and said, “Knock’em dead, cutie.”
He disappeared backstage and left Morton there all alone with a microphone in his hand. The audience was still cheering, and he knew he had to do something, so he turned to the band and asked them to play a classic older song that had been done millions of times before. He knew it was in the public domain and he wouldn’t be infringing on anyone’s copyrights. He’d sung this song many times, and he’d learned it from his dads. It was one of those songs that never really go out of style, and it’s all about the way it’s done.
When he was finished, the audience started howling again, and he glanced to his right to see if Harrison was coming back. Harrison was standing next to Sam applauding with everyone else, and this time Sam was smiling even more than Harrison. He gestured to them both, and Harrison ran back out on stage to join him.
He handed the microphone to Harrison and said, “Take over now. I’m serious.”
Harrison kissed him again and said, “You’re the best.” He turned to the audience and
said, “Isn’t he the best?”
They were still applauding, for Morton and for Harrison. Though Morton wasn’t sure about whether they were applauding the performance or the kissing, he couldn’t deny it made him feel wonderful.
“You’re gonna break the Internet with this one,” Harrison said.
“What do you mean?”
“The whole duet we did is on video and Sam just uploaded it online where millions of people are going to view it,” Harrison said. “I heard we’re already trending on a few social media sites. They love you. They love us.”
The only thing Morton wanted to do now was go backstage and recuperate. He’d worked all afternoon performing, and that last performance in the concert hall had left him drained of all energy. He didn’t even know what any of this meant, and he wasn’t going to stand there and question Harrison about it. As it was, he’d already taken up too much time from the concert and those people had come there to see Harrison perform.
So he took a quick bow and thanked them again, and then he turned and headed backstage to where Sam was standing.
Sam was staring at his phone. He looked up and said, “They love it.”
“Who?”
“Everyone,” Sam said. “The duet is going viral and the entire world is now talking about Harrison Parker and his hot boyfriend singing a gay love song together. They love it. I haven’t seen one nasty comment yet.”
Morton looked at him and said, “So you were wrong about the song. People do like it.”
Sam smiled. “It’s been known to happen on occasion.”
After that, Morton waited with Sam until the concert was over, and Harrison joined them backstage. Harrison was so excited he picked Morton up and swung him around in a circle. Sam told them security said it was mobbed outside with reporters and photographers and Harrison took Morton’s hand. When they reached the exit, Harrison put his arm about Morton and pulled him through a large crowd of fans and screaming reporters. They were screaming for Harrison and for Morton as well. They wanted to know who Morton was, and what his relationship to Harrison was. There were photographers snapping photos, and some reporters were shouting questions. Morton and Harrison just kept moving forward toward the black SUV at the curb without looking sideways. Harrison couldn’t stop smiling, but Morton had a strange feeling that he’d crossed a line that night, and nothing would ever be the same again.



A Starr is Born by [Field, Ryan]

 


The Rescuer







Sleepless In San Francisco






Kendle's Fire by [Field, Ryan]





Altered Parts by [Field, Ryan]


Jake Gyllenhaal Reflects On Playing Gay Face In ‘Brokeback Mountain’; Leslie Jordan: My Trip Down the Pink Carpet; The Regulars Of Stonewall Inn; Ryan Field Books

Jake Gyllenhaal Reflects On Playing Gay Face In ‘Brokeback Mountain’

Back when straight actor, Jake Gyllenhaal, played gay face in the film, Brokeback Mountain, there were very few openly gay actors around that could play gay roles. It was a completely different world for LGBTQ people. For one thing legal same sex marriage wasn’t even part of the discussion for most people. Even the story, Brokeback Mountain, was written by a straight woman from a straight POV. Very few openly gay authors ever got big book deals that way. It’s not because there weren’t any openly gay authors. They just didn’t get chances at big books, with gay content. And up until recently there wasn’t even a discussion about this. It was simply assumed that a straight actor would play gay. If you were an openly gay actor, you were pushed aside to make room for the heteronormative actors with mainstream box office draw. And that’s still happening today and that’s why there’s now a discussion about it. I think younger gay people are starting to say, “Hey, what about me? I’m here.”

With that said, here’s a piece where Jake Gyllenhaal reflects on what it was like to play gay face.

“I think we had been cast for our ‘essences’ without really understanding what our ‘essences’ were – and that’s outside of our sexuality – we’re two straight guys cast in these roles, but who we are, who we were, Ang could see,” he recalls.

Personally, it’s never been my favorite movie or story and I found a few fundamental flaws with regard to authenticity. There were certain things that happened that simply would never have happened in real life with two ‘gay’ men during that time period.

Here’s the rest. Check out the comments below the article. There are varying opinions, and the discussion continues.

Leslie Jordan: My Trip Down the Pink Carpet

Now, for those of you who question authentic gay content, or who don’t even know what it is, there’s a show streaming on Amazon titled, My Trip Down the Pink Carpet, starring Leslie Jordan. He happens to be one of the few openly gay performers who’s managed to carve out a good career, and it couldn’t have been easy.

With his signature southern drawl and self-deprecating humor, Leslie recounts the trials of being a gay, southern man with aspirations of entering show business.

I watched My Trip Down the Pink Carpet last night and I couldn’t stop laughing. This isn’t the only brand of gay content there is, but it certainly is authentic. And if you’re gay, even if you’re butch gay, you’ll understand every single line he speaks in a way that straight people never will.

Here’s the link to IMDb. As I said, I watched it on Amazon Prime Streaming. It’s very simple to find.


The Regulars of Stonewall Inn

If you’re curious about what the Stonewall Inn is like today, this is an interesting story. I think a lot of people think of the Stonewall as something historic, but this shows what’s still going on there now.

Erica Snyder, 21, is a visual storyteller who spent March photographing patrons at Stonewall Inn to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the riots that helped trigger the equality movement. Here Erica narrates her photos for Queerty.

Here’s more. The photos are really good, and totally SFW. 





A Starr is Born by [Field, Ryan]


 


The Rescuer







Sleepless In San Francisco






Kendle's Fire by [Field, Ryan]





Altered Parts by [Field, Ryan]

Brand New Release: A STARR IS BORN On Sale Now; Casey Spooner On the Commercialization of Pride; Ryan Field Books

Brand New Release: A STARR IS BORN On Sale Now

Image may contain: 1 personHere’s my new release, A STARR IS BORN. The blurb below explains the book nicely. It’s a quirky LGBTQ book that explores gender and how one gay man identifies. It’s not about a trans woman. This is about a gay man who’s breaking a few gender stereotypes, and who just wants to fit into this world. All I can say is this character is different.

It’s also on sale right now, until the end of the month at the publisher’s web site…with the promo code below. I’ll post links below.

Image may contain: 1 personA Starr Is Born is a queer retelling of an old rags to riches trope that’s been reinterpreted many times, but this time it’s totally different with gay main characters, a gay love story, and a gay male point of view. It’s partly a light-hearted parody and partly sarcasm. It’s also highly erotic and charged with authentic, emotional gay male romance.

From the day they meet for the first time until the day their lives change forever, Harrison Parker and Morton Starr were destined for greatness—and each other. A Starr is Born follows the paths of handsome, badly-behaving rock star Harrison Parker and sexy gender-bending performer Morton Starr, who is just starting his career.
Morton is so madly in love with his husband, Harrison, he’ll do anything to please him, including overlooking all his self-destructive issues. However, as openly gay Morton gains more fame and success in the mainstream with his popular gay love songs and his unique gender-bending image, and Harrison continues to slide downhill, there comes a point where everything has to change. And when that climax finally happens, Morton isn’t certain about anything in his future or his marriage.
And here’s a link to Amazon, but it’s not on sale there. This is just the publisher’s sale. 
Casey Spooner On the Commercialization of Pride
I see articles like this every year during Pride month and I can’t say I disagree totally. Speaking as a pragmatic, it’s only normal that Pride should be commercialized to a certain extent. I don’t think it could be avoided. But looking at it in a more emotional direction I have to admit that I get a little tired of seeing non-LGBTQ people exploiting Pride, especially for their own monetary gain. And there’s a lot of that happening. It takes away from the meaning of Pride and it becomes just another commercial event. 
With that said, I’m linking to this interview with Casey Spooner where he goes into a lot more detail. 
A little bit. It’s a little aggressive. I’m all for visibility and I’m super excited that everyone’s excited. But I have to say, the commercialization of queer culture has been fatiguing. To go to Target and Lysterine has a rainbow on it, every shampoo has a rainbow on it. Everyone’s shoveling rainbows!










Sleepless In San Francisco






Kendle's Fire by [Field, Ryan]





Altered Parts by [Field, Ryan]

Boston’s Straight Pride Parade With Milo Yiannopoulos As Grand Marshall; The Old Gay West Side Cruising Piers In New York; Ryan Field Books

Boston’s Straight Pride Parade With Milo Yiannopoulos As Grand Marshall

Because having straight white privilege every single day of your life just isn’t enough. You need one more extra day to celebrate your straight privilege.

But according to this article, the really amusing part of this is that Milo Yiannopoulos will be the Grand Marshal. Yes. He will be the grand Marshall of the straight pride parade. You can’t make this up.

The apparently serious organizers of a “Straight Pride Parade” gathered for a press conference on Wednesday to announce they’d been given the green light by the city of Boston to move ahead with their event.

Here’s the link.  I hope they have fun. I couldn’t care less. 


The Old Gay West Side Cruising Piers In New York

I’m not old enough to remember this, but I have older gay friends who still talk about what it was like in New York back in the days when gay men would cruise the west side piers. Apparently, it was a huge destination for gay men. 

But there’s more to the piers than just sex. This is LGBT culture, and history. 

The piers also became a refuge for homeless LGBTQ youth. For years, they were one of the few places in the city they could go to hang out with others like themselves – and often their only available shelter.

Very good article and you can read it all, here.  This is the 4th in a series of excellent articles about gay culture in NYC. They deserve applause. 











Sleepless In San Francisco






Kendle's Fire by [Field, Ryan]





Altered Parts by [Field, Ryan]


Pride Month: FREE Gay Fiction Excerpt ‘The Rescuer’; Teen Fired From Christian Camp For Being Gay; Ryan Field Books

Pride Month: FREE Gay Fiction Excerpt ‘The Rescuer’

Here’s another excerpt from my novel about gay romance and animal rescue. I enjoyed writing this book immensely. I wish every book I wrote could be focused on animals. And this one has a few twists and turns that make it a little different. I would love to see an animal rescue facility where it’s more like an animal hotel, where all the animals are treated as if they are human and every animal is treated with respect. I hope I accomplished that with this book. I hope I gave that focus to the main character. I’m never really certain until years later and there’s more feedback. I’m still learning things about books I wrote that were published 10 years ago.

In any event, the excerpt is below, and here’s a link to Amazon. This book is also sold on Smashwords and other venues, however, Amazon is still king.  This excerpt is totally SFW and I didn’t have to censor one single word.

Teen Fired From Christian Camp For Being Gay

Here’s a story about a gay teen who was fired from a Christian camp. I know it’s wrong. No one should ever be fired from any job anywhere because they are gay. But I do sometimes wonder why any gay person would want to be in a Christian environment like that. I can’t imagine anything worse than to be surrounded by a bunch of far right Christians. I’ve never had to worry about getting fired from a Christian camp because I never have, and never will, go anywhere near a Christian camp.

With that said, it’s still discrimination and of course I agree with him in a general sense. No one should ever be treated this way. And it’s interesting because I have never seen a gay person discriminate against a Christian. Never. I feel bad for the poor kid.

“I wanted to like cry because I grew up going to the Firs since I was like five or six years old,” Taylor told local ABC news. “I’m very angry with them. It’s hard to forgive someone or a group who denied you for who you are. If you’re going to teach love and acceptance shouldn’t you be able to accept all staff members from all parts of the community?”

Here’s a link.  The right wing Christians I know would call firing this kid this free speech and their right to make choices, and they would defend the actions of this camp. I just call it downright mean discrimination. This poor kid was not doing anything wrong.

Excerpt

Chapter Eight
In the weeks that followed the fund raising event, Keith decided to focus more on Misty. He was seriously thinking of leaving the SPCA to join Tom at Richardson Homes and he wanted to make sure Misty was going to be okay when he left. He started spending more time with her alone before the SPCA opened each morning. It was quieter and there were no other humans around to distract him from his goal.
And his goal was simple. He wanted to reach out to this magnificent dog and get her to a point where she would be socialized enough to be adopted by the right family. He knew the potential was there, even if no one else could see it, but he had to figure out a way to get to her. The best way he knew how to do that was through patience and love.
He knew Misty trusted him. He’d reached a point where he could now enter her pen, walk up to her slowly, and give her a treat. She didn’t cower or recoil. Although she didn’t wag her tail and jump around like other dogs, she now took the treat and ate it quietly while he sat there and spoke to her as if she were another human. Sometimes she would send him a sideways glance, or tip her disfigured head on an angle. He didn’t know if she could understand him or not. He obviously wasn’t expecting her to reply to anything he said. He simply believed that by speaking to her, with a soft voice and calming words, she would sense that he wanted to help her.
Of course everyone at the SPCA spoke to the animals in their own way. Carson usually complained to them about what was bothering him, as if they could actually heal his emotional wounds. Zac liked to laugh and joke around with them in an offhanded way, as if they could amuse him. One of the older volunteers liked to tell them all how beautiful they were. But no one ever actually sat down and had a conversation with the animals, and Keith wanted to keep his conversations with Misty private so the rest of the staff wouldn’t think he’d lost his mind.
One Friday morning he brought Misty bacon and sat down on a small pink tufted stool he’d placed next to her doggie bed. He set the bacon down on her bed, and when she leaned forward to eat it he patted the top of her silky gray head and said, “You know, Misty, I might not be around here forever. So we have to start getting you used to walking on a leash. That’s an important part of being ready to be adopted by a nice family. People want to know that they can take you for walks to the park without you freaking out on them.”
While he continued to talk to Misty, encouraging her as if she could understand every word he said, he heard a noise coming from behind and he turned fast to see what it was. When he saw Zac standing at the gate, listening to every word he said, he stood up fast and said, “I was just checking in on her. I wasn’t actually talking to her. I mean, I know she can’t understand me or anything like that. I’m not a lunatic.”
Zac smiled. “You don’t have to explain to me. I have my own little conversations with them all the time. I think it’s important, and I think they understand.”
“You do?” he felt a huge wave of relief.
“Of course I do,” Zac said. “I think we communicate with animals on a different level than we do with humans, but it’s just as important and I think they appreciate it.”
“Well that’s a huge relief,” Keith said. “For a minute I was worried you would think I was some kind of idiot who talked to himself.”
Zac turned to leave, but before he walked away he sent him backward glance and said, “You know, it’s none of my business, but I think you worry too much about what other people think. The only thing we should worry about is what we think of ourselves, not what other people think.”
Keith sent him a smile. “You’re very wise for someone so young.”
Zac shrugged and turned to leave. “I’ll see you later. I’m training that new volunteer this morning.”
While he’d been speaking to Zac, Keith didn’t realize that Misty had climbed out of her bed. When he turned around, she was standing a few feet away from him, staring up at him and wagging her tail.
He smiled and she walked over to him and licked his hand. Her tail was still wagging and he knew he’d made a small break through that morning. He went down on his knees, wrapped his arms around her neck, and gave her a huge hug. “That’s my girl,” he said. “I knew you’d start to come around eventually. And don’t you worry about anything. If no one ever comes along to adopt you, you’ll always have me.”
* * * * *
Later that same day, Keith felt so good about the way Misty was responding to him, he didn’t even mind that he had to go to an anniversary party for Tom and Delilah. They hadn’t been married that long, and it wasn’t an important milestone anniversary, but Delilah was the self-indulgent type who loved to throw a huge party at an expensive restaurant for the most mundane occasions. Her social life was her main focus and her yearly anniversary party was really designed to get her invited to more parties during the year.
When he pulled up to the familiar restaurant he parked in the back. He walked to the entrance and found that most of the guys were wearing formal tuxedos. Keith had decided to wear a pair of brand new tight beige skinny jeans, a white cotton shirt with little blue paisley designs that hugged his torso, and a new pair of two toned wing tip shoes he’d recently purchased. He’d been having anonymous sex with a 30 year old hipster who worked in a trendy men’s clothing store two towns away, and he’d felt obligated to buy new clothes from the guy. He didn’t mind spending the money, and the sex with this guy was so interesting he often went home with bruises on the backs of his legs. He found the whole hipster look sexy, even the guy’s bushy beard and man bun. But more than that, they always had sex in public, right in the store dressing room, while there were customers browsing around out front. Of course they were discreet and they kept the dressing room curtain closed at all times. It wasn’t as though the hipster fucked him right over the counter next to the cash register. It was more about fantasy exhibitionism and the element of danger that excited them the most. No one was ever offended, and no one ever knew what they were doing.
While Keith was at the bar getting a drink before he had to find his table, his brother came over and gave him a hug. “Well there you are. I was worried you wouldn’t show up.”
Keith smiled. “I wouldn’t miss your anniversary for the world,” he said. He’d never like lying to people.
Tom looked him up and down and said, “I hope you can sit down in those jeans. They’re a little snug. Is this a new look for you or something? You’re usually a lot more conservative.”
Keith shrugged. He didn’t want to go into detail about his sexual relationship with the hipster at the clothing store with Tom. “I just felt like a change. And it’s not as if I’m wearing red sequins.” He thought he looked rather conservative. The wing tip shoes were two tone…brown leather and white buckskin…but even they weren’t that unusual.
Tom patted his shoulder and said, “You look fine. I’ll see you later. I want to ask Delilah a question.”
As Tom turned to leave, Keith glanced across the room and pressed his palm to his chest. He saw Chet standing next to a long black grand piano, lifting a martini glass with one hand and waving in his direction with the other. He hadn’t expected to see Chet there that night and he wished he could push a button and disappear through a trap door in the floor. He knew that wasn’t going to happen, so he picked up his drink and crossed to where Chet was standing.
Chet set his drink on the piano and gave him a hug. He stepped back and looked him up and down. “Well look at you. If your pants and shirt were any tighter you’d split the seams.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Keith said.
Chet reached forward to touch his chest and said, “It is a compliment. You look great. I’d never guess you only worked in an SPCA in that outfit.”
Even though that comment made him want to kick something, he smiled and said, “Thank you. You look nice, too.” He was wearing the expected tuxedo, most likely a famous designer that Keith wouldn’t have cared much about.
“I see you’re alone,” Chet said. “Or is your date somewhere else?”
Keith knew he was fishing for information, and he had nothing to hide. “I’m alone. I didn’t bring a date. I’m not seeing anyone seriously. How about you?” There was no reason to boast about all the good sex he was having with strange men.
“I’m not with anyone tonight either. Delilah invited me and said it was fine to come alone. We’ve become very good friends lately. We do everything together. She’s wonderful.”
This was news to Keith. He’d always thought Chet was more of a casual friend, not a best friend. Keith didn’t speak to Delilah regularly and he didn’t know who was included in her social circle. In truth, Keith tried to avoid speaking to her at all. “Yes. She’s a treat.”
“Oh no,” Chet said. He jumped to the left. “I can’t believe he’s here.”
Who?”
“My ex,” Chet said. “Well, he’s not officially my ex. We still date each other. But I had no idea he was coming. He’s a freelance architect who works with your brother sometimes. I should have known.”
“Oh.” He had no idea Chet had been dating someone regularly and he had no idea how to reply. It sounded too complicated to explain in just a few minutes.
A second later, a nice looking guy in his mid-30s walked up to them and reached out to hug Chet. He put his back to Keith, threw his arms around Chet, and kissed him right on the mouth without caring who saw him. Keith looked up at the ceiling. If his pants hadn’t been so damn tight he would have put his hands in his pockets. Even though he knew it was wrong to feel this way, he had not reached the point where he felt comfortable kissing a man that way in a room filled with all those straight people.
The guy stepped back and Chet gestured to Keith. “Darvin, this is my ex, Keith. Keith, this is Darvin.” Then he giggled as if he found it all so amusing.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, sweetie,” Darvin said. He threw his hand in Keith’s direction and it looked as though he might curtsy. He spoke fast, with a heavy lisp that sounded as if he’d just called Keith tweetie.
Keith wasn’t sure whether to kiss his hand or shake his fingers, so he just stood there smiling and said, “It’s nice to meet you.” He was actually a well-built guy, with a nice nose and a square jaw. His wrists were a little limp, and he batted his eye lashes a few too many times, but Keith had never been one to judge people at a glance. If Chet hadn’t been Keith’s ex, they might have been good friends.
“We should all get together,” Darvin said. He squeezed Keith’s bicep in a harmless, playful way. “It could be loads of fun, all three of us at the same time.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not going to happen,” Chet said. “Why don’t you go back to where you came from and we’ll talk later.”
Keith blinked. Chet’s dismissive tone reminded him of the way Chet used to speak to him when they were together. Apparently, Chet hadn’t changed much.
Darvin lowered his eyes and said, “Okay. We’ll talk later. If you need anything, Chet, let me know. I’ll get you anything you need.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Chet said, without even looking at him. “Go talk to someone else now. I’ll find you.”
Then Darvin left them without saying another word. The way Chet spoke to Darvin brought back so many memories of the way Chet had dismissed Keith and bossed him around, Keith started to feel hot and he knew he had to get out of there. It wasn’t because he felt anger or dislike for Chet. It was much worse than that, and far scarier. He started to feel the same old attraction to him and his hands felt shaky, and all the old feelings and emotions started rushing through his mind. He just felt like running.
When Darvin was gone, Chet leaned in a little closer and asked, “So are you still thinking about changing jobs? You’re such a strong talented man, and so capable of doing anything. You could be very successful working in the family business with your brother.”
Keith inhaled Chet’s cologne and he started to feel vulnerable and submissive. His deep voice came off smooth and alluring. He felt the urge to kiss Chet, and that made him worry even more. There was a time when he would have done anything to please Chet, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to revisit that part of his life again. In the same respect, he still had strong feelings for him and he didn’t know what to do.
So instead of replying, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and gaped at the screen. “Oh, no. I have to leave. I just got a text. I’ll see you later, Chet. You have a good time and please tell Tom and Delilah there was an emergency at the SPCA and I had to leave. Tell them I’ll call them tomorrow. I have to head over there right now.”
Before Chet could reply, Keith turned with a sudden jerk and walked toward a set of French doors that would lead him out to a terrace so he wouldn’t have to speak with anyone at the front entrance. He kept walking and didn’t glance back until he reached the jeep.


Ryan Murphy and Netflix Announcement; Netflix Under Fire for "Queer-Erasing"; The Gay Jewish Matador From Brooklyn

Ryan Murphy and Netflix Announcement

I’ve been wondering when Netflix would get some new content, so this looks interesting. So far, lately, the only content on Netflix has been bad comedians no one cares about, weird TV shows and movies with poorly dubbed dialogue, and basically nothing worth watching. Seriously. They need something new. It’s awful and something like this might help.

Plans for a filmed version of the Tony Award-nominated musical The Prom have moved forward, with the announcement of the casting of several key roles.

Here’s the link to more.

Netflix Under Fire for “Queer-Erasing”

Speaking of Netflix, here’s another not so positive story about them.

I’m only linking to the story. I know nothing about it.

Fans accused Netflix of ‘queer erasing’ the same-sex romantic subtext in their show Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Here’s more. 

The Gay Jewish Matador From Brooklyn

Here’s a fascinating retro story about a gay matador. It’s not something you hear about every day. I find it interesting because according to this article he was partially ‘out.’ Meaning that people behind the scenes in his private life knew he was gay, but professionally they didn’t know. There’s a lot of that still going on for gay men in all professions.

Mr. Franklin, who died in 1976 when he was 72, was the first Jewish-American to reach the elite status of “matador” in Spanish bullfighting circles.
He was also gay.

Here’s a link to the rest. 










Sleepless In San Francisco






Kendle's Fire by [Field, Ryan]





Altered Parts by [Field, Ryan]

FREE Gay Fiction: How To Be a Good Gay Bottom; Retired 83 Year Old Priest Becomes Gay Adult Film Star; Ryan Field Books

FREE Gay Fiction: How To Be a Good Gay Bottom

In keeping with my free pride month excerpts, here’s something from my latest, yet to be published novel, How To Be a Good Gay Bottom. I don’t have a cover yet, and I might change the title. This is a romance and the part about being a gay bottom isn’t the main focus of the book. It’s only part of the focus.

This love story is mostly about a young man, Paul, who meets an openly gay politician, Gordon, who is running for governor of his state, and how Paul has to come to terms with the fact that Gordon is in politics. Paul despises politics and the media completely. It’s a huge conflict because he also loves Gordon completely.

Another issue in the book is that Paul is also a gay virgin in the sense that he’s never had anal sex. He’s not only terrified of anal sex, he’s not even sure how to do it. It totally freaks him out.

So while on vacation for a week in Palm Springs, before he even begins a relationship with Gordon, Paul decides to see a sex therapist about his problem with anal sex, and this excerpt is a scene from that chapter. I didn’t have to censor much from this one, and I don’t think there are any spoilers.

You can read the excerpt below. And once again, the title is subject to change. It might become The Governor’s Husband.

Retired 83 Year Old Priest Becomes Gay Adult Film Star

Now here’s something you don’t see every day of the week. This 83 year old former priest not only reinvented himself, it sounds as though he had a damn good time doing it.

Here’s one thing he had to say about making a gay adult film:

 “It was splendid! How could it not be? (I was in) a blessed rural setting, surrounded by a cast and crew of loving, competent, supportive brothers intent on sharing the good news of the healing power of pleasure. What could be more delightful? And, if you’ve seen the video, with the two adorable models performing, what else could be lacking?”

You can read it all in full, here. There’s a video, too. It’s not the adult film, it’s an interview that’s about the adult film and it’s SFW. I think if everyone did things like this, getting older would be so much easier. 

FREE Excerpt: How To Be a Good Gay Bottom

When I went back to my room to shower and change, I called the number of the sex therapist in Palm Springs and asked if there were any appointments that day. He told me he could fit me into his schedule around 10 that same morning, so I took down the address, hung up the phone, and quickly jumped into the shower. I’d been on enough vacations like this to know that once I get settled everything starts to move very quickly and I didn’t want to waste a moment.
About an hour later, I pulled up to the entrance of one of those gated condo communities in North Palm Springs not far from the wind turbines and punched a number code the therapist had given me into the keypad beside the gate. It appeared to be a well landscaped complex, with exotic plants, palm trees, and well maintained lawns. The condos themselves were clustered together in separate two-story buildings, all buildings were identical in pale pink stucco and terracotta tiled roofs. The entire complex had the distinct appearance of a resort, much like the rest of Palm Springs.
Once I pulled through the gate, I stopped and read a large well-written directory next to the stop sign. I was looking for unit 20 in building C, which the sign said was to my right. But as I turned down the road that would lead me to building C I gripped the steering wheel tightly and came to a full stop. On the left side of the road, I saw a naked man carrying a silver folding chair and a green beach towel next to a long row of parking spaces covered with a long carport. To my right I spotted another man with a large round belly in his 50s walking his small dog in a designated pet area. He was naked, too, but the dog was wearing a cute little white T-shirt.
As I started moving forward again, trying hard not to stop and gape at the man with the dog, I spotted a few more people in the distance and they were all naked as well. Apparently, this condo complex was one of those clothing optional places I’d read about in Palm Springs guides. Of course it didn’t bother me, except for the fact that I’d worn a brand new shirt that morning so I’d make a good first impression on the sex therapist. If I had known I’d have worn the same outfit I wore the day before.
When I spotted building C, about halfway down the road, I pulled into a parking space designated for visitors and unfolded from the Escalade. I hadn’t been in Palm Springs very long but one of the things I was starting to really like about it was the fact that it never seemed crowded or too busy. As I crossed to the sidewalk that would lead me to building C, I passed a smiling naked woman in her 40s with breasts down to her naval. She nodded and smiled in my direction, but the rest of the complex seemed almost empty.
Unit 20 was located at the far end of the building, but really not far to walk at all. I could see a huge swimming pool, with spas and a club house, not far from where I was standing and there were a few more naked people lounging around the pool. I turned toward the front door of unit 20 and rang the doorbell. Within moments, a tall, thin naked man in his 30s yanked the door open and said, “You must be Paul John. Please, come inside. I’ve been waiting for you.”
I smiled and walked into the entrance hall. I reached out to shake his hand and said, “And you must be Dion Winston. It’s nice to meet you.” At a closer glance, I noticed his lean naked body was well defined and he obviously followed a regular workout routine. His dark hair was long and bushy, with wisps and waves and tangles, almost like a caveman. His beard was overgrown and just as wild as his hair. And he had a thick flaccid dick hanging between his legs. Although I’d never been attracted to the hipster types, I had to admit he wasn’t bad looking at all.
However, I wasn’t there for a hook up or to fulfill my caveman fantasy. I was there to find out how to be a good gay bottom. “I didn’t know this place was clothing optional,” I said.
“Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that,” he said. “Is that a problem? You can wear clothes if that’s more comfortable for you. There’s no judgment here.”
I smiled and waved him off. “Oh, I’m fine with nudity. That’s the least of my problems. I’ve been going to clothing optional beaches all my life and I have no problem getting naked.”
So he led me into a large great room with an open concept that was living room, kitchen, and dining room all combined. The walls were white, the floors beige tile. The white walls were covered with busy, colorful abstract paintings in all different sizes that gave the room a retro 1970s appeal. One painting in several shades of pink had to be at least 6 feet tall and 8 feet wide, but on the wall across from that there were more abstracts in sizes that ranged from 9 inches by 12 to 16 inches by 14. The furniture was a combination of mid-century modern and other contemporary pieces that didn’t really match. It wasn’t one of those perfect places that had been staged for effect like the house we were renting in Warm Sands, but I liked it because it felt so comfortable and real. It was as though it had been decorated by someone’s hippie grandma who’d dropped a little too much acid in the 70s. And in spite of the fact that it was a condo, the ceilings were tall and it felt spacious and open. I’d always lived in a private home and condo living fascinated me.
When we reached an authentic gray mid-century modern sofa he stopped and said, “You can remove your clothes and leave them here if you want, or you don’t have to take them off at all. That’s up to you. I have to go outside to check on a group therapy that’s happening in the garden right now. The guys from a local landscaping company come here about 3 times a month to talk things over and relax. It’s very private and totally discreet.”
“Take your time,” I said. “I’m in no hurry. Should I wait for you in here for our session?” I’d been under the impression this would be a private therapy session, not group therapy.
He looked a little confused. “I thought I mentioned when I said I could fit you in that this was group therapy, not a private session. My private sessions are all booked this week.”
“Oh,” I said. “I must have misunderstood. I’m sorry. Maybe I should leave.”
“You can do that,” Dion said. “Or you can join us outside for group therapy. It might help you relax a little since this is your first time. There’s no charge for this. Everything that happens here is completely private and you can feel free to completely open up about anything. We all respect that. This is really a great group of guys, too. I think you’ll like them and they might be able to offer you a new perspective.”
“If I don’t feel like saying anything can I just sit there and listen?”
“Of course,” he said, with resignation, and then he turned toward an extra wide set of sliding glass doors that led to an outdoor space and disappeared.
After I removed all my clothes and set them on the arm of the sofa, neatly folded so Dion wouldn’t think I was a slob, I crossed to the sliding glass door to see what was happening outside with this group therapy session. Each condo unit had a rather generous, private outdoor space off the living room area, surrounded by a wall that stood about six feet tall. I hadn’t decided I would join them yet and I just wanted to get a glimpse.
I gazed to the right and tilted my head and saw a group of six naked men sitting on outdoor furniture to the right of a very small swimming pool. They were all naked and all sitting on this large L-shaped outdoor sofa, and from what I could see at that angle they were either nodding or smiling about something. It looked harmless and I felt safe. I figured it couldn’t hurt to go outside and join them. Even though I was not about to have anal sex with anyone that day, they all appeared to be good looking, with tanned stocky bodies, but in an unpretentious way.
I opened the door and headed toward where they were sitting, in my bare feet. One tall guy in his late 20s with jet black hair looked up at me and smiled, and then Dion turned around and said, “Welcome. I’m glad you could join us, Paul.”
I took a seat at the end of the sofa next to a nice looking guy with dark hairy legs and Dion introduced everyone. I smiled and nodded at all of them, knowing I’d never remember their names all in one shot. I’ve never been good with names, but I knew I would remember certain physical aspects about them. The guy sitting next to me had sexy hairy legs, the guy next to him had a thick cock, the guy to his left had lighter hair and a reddish beard. On the other side of the L-shaped sofa, there was the tall guy with jet black hair, there was a guy with sexy hair on his chest, and then there was a guy with nice large balls.
As I settled into my seat, still feeling a little awkward about being totally naked in front of all these strange men, I smiled and said, “So you guys are all landscapers?”
While they all nodded, Dion said, “Yes. They actually do this condo complex, plus several others in Palm Springs. That’s how they discovered me.”
I smiled at the guy with the hairy legs next to me. “I see. Is there a focus in this group?”
Dion nodded. “This is a group for straight men who are interested in learning how to masturbate without guilt.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
The tall guy grabbed his dick and said, “We’re learning how to pleasure ourselves freely, so we can ultimately pleasure someone else.”
“Well. I hope it’s okay that I’m here,” I said. “I don’t want to intrude. I’m gay and I don’t want anyone to feel awkward about that.” Even though I’d never had that straight guy fantasy that so many of my friends had, even I had to admit this was almost too good to be true.
The cute guy with the hairy legs sitting next to me reached over and took my hand in his. “There’s no need to feel that way, baby. There are no labels here and we don’t judge. You’re just a man like the rest of us. It’s a pleasurable learning experience for all of us.”
“Indeed.” My first thought was what Richard would think if he could see me now. I doubt he would have approved. Richard was one of those gay men who preferred to spend his time with other gay men, almost exclusively. He probably would have run out of there with his hands flying in the air. However, I didn’t think it could hurt to stay there. I’d always found straight men adorable and comfortable to be with, and I think they felt the same way about me.
“Would you like to talk about why you’re here, Paul?” Dion asked.
“Well, there is a specific reason, but I’ve never actually told anyone. It’s a little embarrassing.” I figured I had nothing to lose. I’d never see any of them again and I did feel like talking about it.
The guy with the large balls grabbed his dick and stroked it a few times. “Anything you say here stays here. This is a safe place just for men, bro, and there’s no judgment.”
I took a deep breath and said, “Okay, here goes. I don’t know how to bottom. But even worse, I’m terrified of being a bottom. I really want to be a good bottom but I just don’t know how. It’s killing me.”
They all tipped their heteronormative heads sideways for a moment, as if waiting for me to explain in more detail, and I had a feeling they didn’t know what I was talking about.
“I’m a gay bottom,” I said. “I’ve never had anal sex, I don’t know how to have anal sex, and I want to learn how to have anal sex and to stop being afraid of having it. It scares me to death.”
The guy with the hairy legs next to me said, “I get it now. I love anal, dude. I do it with the women I date as often as I can. There’s nothing better.”
I flung him a glance. “But that’sbecause you’re straight and you’re the one on top with all the control. I’m the one on the bottom and I don’t know what to expect.”
He laughed. “I see your point.”
The guy with the reddish beard said, “Maybe you’re not a bottom. Maybe you’re really a top.”
I shrugged. “I’ve thought about that, and sometimes I even try to talk myself into believing that. But the truth is I’m a bottom. I know what I want, but I’m terrified to actually do it. It’s veryfrustrating.”











Sleepless In San Francisco






Kendle's Fire by [Field, Ryan]





Altered Parts by [Field, Ryan]