Excerpt From The Things That Make Me Give In

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Mancandy Monday: Simon Tam

My blog is henceforth going to refuse to descend into a pity party. No. Instead, it's going to focus, fiercely, on the pretty.

And oh, Simon Tam is very pretty indeed.

You might not know who he is. In the late great show Firefly, he was third most handsome. After Nathan Fillion, and a gigantic meatheaded moron. Who also happens to play a gigantic meatheaded moron on the show- Jayne Cobb aka Adam Baldwin.

But I digress. Let's get back to what I can only imagine must be the weird pretty of Simon Tam (aka Sean Maher):

See? That's nice, right? Or maybe it's just nice for me, considering my penchant for uptight, black haired, blue eyed, probably-a-virgin men. I mean check out this picture:

He totally looks like he's just stepped out of one of those sci-fi erotic romances where the hero and heroine live on a world without sex. And then have to discover it, together, by bonking loads (which I LOVE, BTW. If you have any recommendations for books based around this scenario, please feel free to tell them to me immediatly. Because I'm a weird-virgin-sex pervert).

So where was I again? Oh yeah. Simon Tam. He's just that type, you know. The type I always end up crushing on while everyone else crushes on Chris Pine. I like the background guy, the guy who lures you in stealthily, the guy who's hardly in something and has a CV with about four films on it so you have to scour the internet, looking for a fix of his giant man-nipples like a crazed junkie.

.

But really. Who wouldn't get crazed over this?

Some Depressing Updates

Am a bit up and down, at the moment. I've had rejections from everything I've submitted to apart from Black Lace- Xcite, Cleis, Best Women's Erotica. The story I liked the most - Men - got a bad review from Coffee Time Romance. Even though it's also the most romantic story I've written. The only publisher willing to publish my stuff is probably going to fold any second (ETA: just to be clear for people who worry a lot like me in these uncertain times, this is nothing more than the fevered neurotic imaginings of my fear-the-worst-brain. Not super secret special inside knowledge of the world of publishing), I seem unable to count my numerous blessings, probably because the hot weather has made maths fall out of my head. I keep getting brain tumour headaches. We're all going to die in some unnamed apocalypse in 2012- probably when a gigantic brown dwarf crashes into us (ETA: this, on the other hand, is ABSOLUTE TRUTH).

Sorry I don't have better news. Here's a picture of Nathan Fillion's ass, Bertha, to sustain you through this trying time:

Mancandy Monday: David Mitchell

Yeah, you heard that right. Yes, this is what he looks like:

But sue me. I just can't get enough of his withering, withering voice. And his weird eyes that are all black discs like in Krull.

Also, did you know? He's actually my male double. If you've ever seen the sketch where he plays a woman in a pub just sat there, that's what I look like. Except I'm not as tweedy. And I don't have a penis under my dress.

Happy B-Day, Your Majesty

That majesty's totally for reals, too. Because you're the Queen of Erotica. Oh, you didn't know? Yeah, well now you do.

A couple of words on how you came to be the Queen of Erotica:

1. By being orsum, constantly. I think it's just your natural state. You wear orsum, like an orsum coat.

2. You write blog posts that sometimes terrify me. But they only terrify me because I am reminded of how many levels of cool and sex and cool I'd have to climb, to be seven thousand rungs below you on the Ladder of Ultimate SexCool.

3. Despite your place at the top of the Ladder of Ultimate SexCool, you are the least obnoxious blogger in the world. Never seeming to have your head up your butt or be sneering down at less cool people is a very underrated and under used skill by many less than you, but you manage to not be a butthead or a sneerer effortlessly, always.

4. Your novels, your stories, your anthologies- I mean come on. What else needs to be said?

5. Finally and most importantly: there is barely another writer/editor/everything but the kitchen sinker who dedicates so much of their time to helping other writers- sometimes writers that you barely know. Nor are there many writers who dedicate so much time, and do not seem to realise how much help, how much support, how much door opening they do. Just the fact that you run those weekly story comps- I find that amazing, and amazingly generous.

And now I'm embarrassed that I wrote this, because it's all gooshy and smooshy and ew. Even so: Happy Birthday, Alison.

From,

One of your many, many, many loyal subjects.

Mancandy Monday: Twitter

Phwoar, check out the breast on this baby:

So hot. I just can't get enough of that sweet sweet Twitter love.

And if you want variety, boy does Twitter have it. You feeling blue cos your page does not exist? At least there's hot Twitter birds to cheer you up:

Forget Mywaste and Faceberk. Twitter's got it all: the looks, the sexiness, the sudden communication with people who fancy Alex O'Loughlin as much as you do. I know we had a rocky start, Twitter, but I forgive you your weird bugs and strange issues and your Britney porn spammers. Because that's what people who love you do.

P.S. If you've made it past this mad paean to Twitter, then you'll now find out who has gotten their mitts on a copy of Liaisons. There was only two of you, so the random generator didn't have to work very hard. In fact, it kind of laughed in my face for having no readers. Bertha then comforted me. She reads my stuff ALLLLL the time. Bless her.

And so the winner is: Sefi! Well done to her. I actually did do it randomly, too, and blinded myself to the fact that she's one of my bestest mates. Because in book comps that no-one enters, fairness is the name of the game.

Mancandy Monday: Chuck Gunderson

And yeah, he doesn't exist outside my head. But he's the hero of my latest WIP, and he's consuming my very soul. I can't write enough about him. He demands my attention, like a spoilt child.

So here's a pic of his man-nipples. Just because, you know, I say so.



They're actually someone else's man-nipples, but it's a good enough likeness. In fact, he's very like this fellow all over. Maybe we can play guess the nipples?