Author Override: Daisy Harris
Author Override is the place where authors take the reins and take you on a journey into their world. Some may allow you into their private writing dens. Others may take you along with them on research trips or interviews. Whatever the case may be, sit back, relax and enjoy the ride because here you’ll get an in-depth look into an author’s musings.
Writing and Family—and Unholy Union
First off, thanks guys for having me on the blog today!
So I went to a family wedding this weekend. And when I say “family wedding” I mean giant. More members of my family showed up at this shindig than at my wedding and my youngest brother’s wedding combined. My middle brother, the one who got married, is the rockstar of our clan—the one everyone shows up to see get hitched. As much as sibling rivalry makes me a tad jealous, I was super glad for the opportunity to see so many people I hadn’t seen in years.
The downside of all this bonding was, of course, the debate of whether or not to mention to family members my latest book, From the Ashes. As it turned out, From the Ashes released only forty-eight hours before the rehearsal dinner, so I was all about getting anyone and everyone to buy and read my book.
Well, almost anyone.
I mean, these people are related to me. Maybe not all of them by blood, but I’ve known most of them my whole life. In most cases, I sure as heck don’t want to imagine them having any sexual thoughts EVER. I assume they feel the same way about me. But there’s a fine line between who is “too close” for me to allow them to read my work and who is “just close enough.” My uncle’s boyfriend promised to read my latest, and that in and of itself seems fine. Unless (God Forbid) he decides to read aloud a passage or two to my uncle. The poor guy would likely have a heart attack, and I would die of embarrassment.
Then there are my mother’s friends. The more adventurous of them are eager to read me. And heck—I don’t mind! But I’m not sure I’d really want them reporting back to my mom that my stories are real panty melters, because…
Oh, God. I need brain bleach just going down this road of thought.
In the world of romance authors and erotic romance authors, there always seems to be two types of people. Those who feel the need to keep their writing secret, and those who encourage everyone and anyone to read their books. I wonder how many authors fall into the place I do, where my family finds it amusing what I write, but would never in a million years consider reading one of my books. How many authors draw a line in the sand over blood relations, but are more confortable with friends and lovers of blood relations reading their stories?
How about you? Who do you share your books with (either books you write or books you read)? Friends, family, ladies at the nail salon? Or are your guilty pleasures a secret you like to keep close to the chest?
He wanted a boyfriend. What he got was a hero.
When an accident burns down Jesse’s apartment, he’s left broke and homeless, with a giant dog and a college schedule he can’t afford to maintain. And no family who’s willing to take him in.
Lucky for him, a sexy fireman offers him a place to stay. The drawback? The fireman’s big Latino family lives next door, and they don’t know their son is gay.
Tomas’s parents made their way in America with hard work and by accepting help when it was offered, so he won’t let Jesse drop out of school just so he can afford a place to live. Besides, Jesse’s the perfect roommate—funny, sweet and breathtakingly cute. He climbs into Tomas’s bed and tugs at his heart. Until Jesse starts pushing for more.
Their passion enflames their bodies but threatens to crush Tomas’s family. Tomas is willing to fight for Jesse, but after losing everything, Jesse isn’t sure he can bear to risk his one remaining possession—his heart.
“Alright. Let’s see this.” Tomas climbed out of the truck and locked the door. When he saw Jesse, his jaw dropped.
Jesse wore nothing but a pair of old, battered bunker pants, held up on his slim frame by suspenders. They weren’t Tomas’s, so he must have found them at a surplus store.
He’d smeared black makeup over his body, face and even through his hair. He looked messy and sexy. So hot Tomas took three steps to him and grabbed him around the waist.
“Fuck, Jess.” He mouthed Jesse’s shoulder, sucking hard on his neck. Tomas tasted makeup, but he didn’t mind eating a little wax. He needed to put a mark on Jesse before anyone else saw him looking so fine.
“You like?” Jesse rubbed closer.
The rigid material of Jesse’s pants contrasted with the soft, smooth skin on his chest. It was all Tomas could do not to lay him down in the parking lot. “Fuck yeah, I like. I may make you wear that around the house.”
Jesse laughed. “I should make you wear it.” Tomas kept groping him until Jesse gently pushed him away. “Stop kissing me, or we’ll never make it to meet the guys.”
Tomas put his forehead to Jesse’s shoulder and breathed in his scent. Jesse must have just put on deodorant because Tomas caught a whiff of it from the splay of hair poking from under his arm. He never would have thought deodorant was hot, but on Jesse it smelled like heaven.
“Fine. We’ll go to the party.” Tomas took Jesse’s hand as he started walking into the crowded streets. Even with guys everywhere, Tomas noticed him and Jesse getting some interested looks.
Jesse giggled. “You told me you weren’t going to wear a costume.”
“I’m not.” Tomas lifted an eyebrow.
“Mesh?” Jesse plucked at the front of Tomas’s shirt, right near his nipple. “I can honestly say I never would have expected to see you wearing a mesh shirt. A chain, okay. But mesh?”
Tomas reached down and swatted Jesse’s butt.
“I like it.” Jesse leaned away enough to roll his gaze over Tomas’s outfit. “It’s a little Jersey Shore, but you look sexy.”
“You saying, ‘You can take the boy out of the suburbs, but you can’t take the suburbs out of the boy?’” They stopped at an intersection, and Tomas wrapped his arm around Jesse’s waist. He leaned in to kiss him.
“Hey.” Jesse blushed on his cheeks and across the top of his chest. “Watch it with the public displays of affection. What if one of your buddies is around?”
Tomas frowned. “That doesn’t matter.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, more out of habit than anything. “I told Rick about us.”
“When?” The light turned to walk. Everyone around them poured into the intersection, but Jesse stood there, a rock in the river, looking at Tomas with concerned eyes. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”
“I didn’t.” Tomas touched Jesse’s arm, urging him to cross while they still had the light. When they were walking side by side, he slipped his hand down Jesse’s arm and wove their fingers together. It felt different than it had before—more meaningful.
“He was running his mouth off. And he would have found out eventually.”
“Oh. Well…” Jesse bit his lip. Maybe he was holding back an I’m glad, or Good for you, or something else about how Tomas had done the right thing. Tomas was glad when Jesse kept those thoughts, if he had them, to himself.
Jesse kissed Tomas on the cheek. He didn’t say anything else, just swung their arms, enjoying the Halloween crowd.
“You sure we can get in?” Tomas stopped in front of the club. There were at least another dozen guys outside, talking or waiting for friends.
“Yeah. We have tickets.” Jesse flashed them at the bored-looking drag queen sitting on a stool by the door.
“ID?” She cocked a drawn-on eyebrow at Jesse.
He handed her his card, and Tomas did the same.
“Go on.” She jerked a thumb at the door.
Jesse gave Tomas a big, bright smile and led him through the doorway.
That smile slayed him, and Tomas forgot all about Michael and the crap at Haunted Trails. Jesse was cute and adorable and sexy as all fuck. They were going to have an awesome night.
Not needing the coat check, they pushed through to the main area of the club. The floors thudded with bass. Red, green and purple lights beamed down from the ceiling. Mirrors coating the walls reflected hundreds of guys flashing skin.
The atmosphere sank under Tomas’s skin until he was high on just being there. His pulse picked up, and excitement flooded his brain and his dick. Pulling Jesse closer, he kissed him like he would fuck him right in front of everyone. There, at a club where everyone was drinking and grinding and screaming their heads off, Tomas couldn’t see any reason to pretend they weren’t crazy about each other.
“Want a drink?” he shouted into Jesse’s shoulder.
“Yeah.” Jesse palmed Tomas’s pecs through his shirt. “God, it would be so hot if you had your nipples pierced.”
“Hm?” Tomas puffed up his chest, giving Jesse more to hold on to. He loved the way
Jesse bit his lip. “I’ll take that under advisement.” Tomas tweaked Jesse’s bare, pink nipple, imagining it speared through with a flat steel bar. “Maybe we could get it done together.”
“Fuck, I love you.” Jesse made a sound like a whimpering puppy and pressed their lips together in a messy kiss.
Tomas grabbed his back, trying to show him with his arms and his tongue that he loved him too. He could tell by Jesse’s split second of tension that Jesse hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
He’d meant I love you the way he’d say, I love this movie, or I love it when you make me come. Not in the bone-deep way Tomas felt.
“Let’s get that drink.” Tomas half dragged, half urged Jesse toward the bar. He shuffled them forward, pressing kisses into Jesse’s neck and rubbing his dick against Jesse’s ass. Again and again, he replayed what Jesse had said. Jesse loved him, at least enough to say it accidentally.
About the Author:
Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn’t sure if she writes erotica. Her romances start out innocently enough. However, her characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris’s dismay the sex tends to get completely out of hand.
She writes about fantastical creatures and about young men getting their freak on, and she’s never missed an episode of The Walking Dead.
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Daisy’s site: www.thedaisyharris.com