I’d like to extend a warm welcome to Damon Suede who’s stopping by the Back Porch to chat about his new book Lickety Split along with a little kinky this-n-that AND a chance to participate in a giveaway. Welcome, Damon!
P.S. Y’all are gonna need a cool drink for this…
Home Groan: on the DIY kink that grows wild in the country
Thanks so much to Katie for letting me come sit a spell on the Back Porch to talk with y’all about Lickety Split as part of my release tour.
So, Lickety Split is an erotic romance. Well…technically it’s a homoerotic contemporary cowboy romance but given my voice as an author and the kind of story these characters wanted to tell, things got dirty, fast. At the same time, this book is not even close to wall-to-wall boning with no context because a pigpile of greasy conjunctions in frantic succession doesn’t mean the book itself will be arousing or effective. That shit’s boring, yo. Of course, the minute you say erotic romance everyone expects Red Rooms of Pain and emotionally castrated billionaires with boundary issues. That’s not my idea of erotic, based on my own experiences at the edges of arousal.
For my part, I think what makes erotic romance interesting is the ways that intimacy maps the emotional journey of the characters as they struggle towards their happy ending. I mean, yes, hot fucktimes. Yes, taboo and exploration. Yes, bondage, edging, and exhibitionism. But if I don’t care about these folks, no amount of slobbering and grinding will ever turn me on. That’s just the way I’m wired. I have to believe in the relationship and I have to believe in the intimacy it creates.
Patch Hastle starts this book with a pretty narrow sense of his own sexuality. He’s out and gay and hooking up on the regular, but in the process of running away from home so young he is also spent seven years in denial about the things that attract him. At the same time, Tucker Biggs has spent his whole life dipping his wick in any wax wet enough to want him.
When I started writing the book, I knew that Patch was secretly kinky as fuck but I also knew he’d tied himself in knots for a bunch of perfectly valid, personally constipated reasons. Tucker was the diametric opposite: his idea of a good time is more on the order of handicraft, a hobby you focus on because you have time to waste. And boy, does he! Factor in the 20 year age gap between them, and the hostile history and obviously the aggressive power dynamics and taboo needed to play out every time they collided, in clothes or out of them.
The kink and light BDSM in Lickety Split grew out of my knowledge of rural hookups and communities where guys keep things on the down-low. For all sorts of reasons, kinkiness seems to be associated with metropolitan sophistication. That’s silly. Kink happens anywhere people play with power during sex; sometimes that involves elaborate restraints and role-playing, and sometimes nothing more than simple ground rules and willpower.
Tucker’s down-home dirtiness lent itself to that kind of improvisational sex play: rope from the barn, lube from the shed, and a sturdy brass bed. And Patch gets pulled towards it, moth to flame.
Even the relentless, extended edging scenes came out of the characters: Patch’s urge to race and Tucker taking his time. That’s another kinky reality from out in the boonies. Plenty of good old boys find themselves at home on a Friday night along with a boner and time to kill. Folks get horny enough and bored enough and they find unexpected and exaggerated ways to get off. Once you make that two guys helping each other out, patience can get painful… and pleasurable both. Of course, how do you hold somebody in one place on a farm?
Rope isn’t a rarity in a barn. When you work with your hands or with animals, knots are a practical tool. You learn how to tie them safely and release them ditto. Tucker uses nylon rope for bondage because it’s cheap and available. To be honest, that’s no different than using a silk necktie if you’re a finance guy. Newsflash: farming doesn’t pay anyone a fortune. Very few rural folks would ever spend the time, money, or energy to acquire elaborate props and gear unless it has become a central focus on their sex lives. I don’t think anyone’s gonna object to cowboys and rope, two great tastes that taste great together.
Another reality in Lickety Split’s kinky moments: J-lube. That miracle goo is amazing, disgusting, unbelievably slippery and 100% real. F’realz. It’s a lubricant which comes in powder form you mix with water that’s used by vets in birthing foals and the like. You may be thinking ewwwww, but its slickness is unearthly and infinite. Since its discovery by the BDSM and sex-party community, it’s actually become something of an erotic staple in some urban playrooms. But in rural areas, J-lube is ubiquitous, cheap, and infinitely useful for anything that involves making stuff slide easy. For the dedicated farmboy edger, it’s a given.
In all seriousness, the BDSM in this book is pretty mild, bondage and extended edging; “sugarkink” by most accounts but emotionally intense. That was always my goal, not the props but the heat, and these guys get incendiary together. So far, folks in the BDSM community seem to love this book just as much as fans of spicy cowboy romance, so if explicit kink isn’t your bag Patch and Tucker’s story might be right up your alley.
Kink is part of the national dialogue now, even if it isn’t part of your life. I love the erotic romance has opened up American pop consciousness to the possibilities of intimate experimentation in and out of the bedroom…not to mention the discussion of consent, taboo, and erotic play. That’s empowering for us as a nation of responsible adults.
At the same time, not all kink is custom-built. Anywhere people have powerful urges and imaginations things can get plenty dirty without cuffs, latex, or costumes. 😛 50 Shades has caught a lot of (deserved) flack for depictions of unsafe BDSM and iffy erotic logic. I truly celebrate the doors that series opened in pop culture, but I believe that pushing sexual limits can happen in a safe, sane way that still pokes everyone’s no-no place.
Lickety Split came from that scrappy, improvisatory place were filthy minds find a way to get each other off right. Tucker and Patch mess around exactly the way two good ol’ boys in East Texas oughtta given the time and inclination. Yee-haw!
I just think sex should be fun and surprising in a wonderful way. For me the best sex comes from real connection. However folks reach each other and push those buttons, if the feelings are real it’ll tickle my pickle. And THAT is what this book came from: a firsthand knowledge that dirty minds are home grown.
Blurb:
Lickety Split: love won’t wait.
Patch Hastle grew up in a hurry, ditching East Texas for NYC to make his name as a DJ and model without ever looking back. When his parents die unexpectedly, he heads home to unload the family farm ASAP and skedaddle. Except the will left Patch’s worst enemy in charge: his father’s handsome best friend who made his high school years hell.
Tucker Biggs is going nowhere. Twenty years past his rodeo days, he’s put down roots as the caretaker of the Hastle farm. He knows his buddy’s smartass son still hates his guts, but when Patch shows up growed-up, looking like sin in tight denim, Tucker turns his homecoming into a lesson about old dogs and new kinks.
Patch and Tucker fool around, but they can’t fool themselves. Once the farm’s sold, they mean to call it quits and head off to separate sunsets. With the clock ticking, the city slicker and his down-home hick get roped into each other’s life. If they’re gonna last longer than spit on a griddle, they better figure out what matters—fast.
Stats:
Release Date:
Publisher:
Cover Artist:
Series:
Genre:
Pairing:
Orientation:
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POV:
March 13, 2017
Dreamspinner Press
Reese Dante
Standalone
Contemporary, Cowboys, Kinky Erotica
M/M
Gay
286 e-book pages
3rd person
See the book on Goodreads
Purchase Links:
Dreamspinner | Amazon | BN | iBooks | KOBO
Excerpt:
In this excerpt from Chapter Four, the day after their first awkward, intense sexual encounter Patch takes a dip in the pond not expecting Tucker to show up.
On the big rock near the center, Patch stood again and scraped the water from his wavy hair. He had a memory of his pa balancing him on a horse as a boy. Steady now. The sun felt like heaven through his closed eyes. He turned and dove back in.
Even at its deepest, the water only came up to his chest and the carp at the bottom weren’t something he’d ever eat. The bottom was broken rock at one end and cool mud at the other.
Patch had learned to jerk off against those flat rocks, snuck beers, and smoked the only two cigarettes of his life too. Sophomore year, he’d fooled around on the rockier shore with teammates because it was private and navigable in the dark. Against that tree, he’d kissed his first girl (meh) and blown his first boy (yeah!).
“Afternoon.”
Patch stiffened and straightened, twisted to face the gravelly drawl with a cold twist in his gut.
Tucker stood on the opposite shore in Carhartt overalls and that straw work hat. His muscular arms looked tan and greasy against his white undershirt. “I guess we had the same idea.” He glanced at the sky, the water. “It’s hot as a whorehouse on nickel night.” He shifted his weight but came no closer.
A flicker of Tucker naked in the armchair, glittering eyes gazing down at him, the taste of his semen pinning them both in place… Patch blinked it away, hyperconscious of his wet, bare skin and the distance between them. He went no closer to the pebbly shore.
They eyed each other. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three—
“So…. Uhh.” Tucker took his hat off with one hand and wiped his brow and mouth with the other. “We talking?”
Patch frowned, trapped by his nudity and the water.
“I mean, do we talk about what we done?” Tucker crouched at the water’s edge, his boots sinking into the smooth mud. No one had a right to look that good. “Last night. Or are you fixin’ to run off again?” He said run like a cuss word, painting Patch a coward for having some sense.
Patch started to snap back at him out of habit, but then he thought better of it. “Naw.”
“How you today?” Tucker seemed to be actually asking a legitimate question. “Better?”
He shrugged. “I guess. Sure.” Exposed and motionless, he let Tucker’s gaze rest on him across the water. Whatever had passed between them last night had not vanished in sunlight.
Tucker looked relaxed, and cautious.
Patch swallowed, his shaft fattening underwater. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
He crossed his arms. “Which part?” Tucker squinted. “Come to visit? Squirted the side of my trailer? Eaten my load?”
“None. All.” Knowing it was a mistake, certain he would regret it, he pushed through the cool water toward the one person he had no business wanting. He moved as he would’ve for a racy photo shoot, fucking the imaginary lens with his presence, demanding a reaction.
Tucker watched him warily from under the trees still, overalls hanging from one strap. “I guess we are.” A crooked smile bent the edge of his mouth. “Talking.”
The closer Patch got to the shore the more of his torso was revealed: nipples, navel, and gradually the darkened trail down to his pubes. His dick thickened and shifted in the water, swirling around his waist as he advanced. Now his body was clean but his thoughts were everything else.
Tucker stared as if hypnotized. He wiped his lower face, lip to chin, and swallowed. He was sweating now. Was that a boner in his overalls?
Patch strode in slow motion, stirring the calm pond water as if sleepwalking. He shouldn’t want this so much but couldn’t make himself care. Conscious of the picture he made, he crooked a sinful grin just for effect.
Eyes wider, Tucker stood and took a step back. “Well, okay, now. Okay.”
“You afraid of me now?” Patch paused one step before his erection broke the surface. Tucker stood as if rooted to the shore. “Or you gonna come for a swim?”
“I’m good.” Tucker swallowed and his tongue slipped out to taste his lips. He couldn’t seem to look at Patch’s face. “Fine. Y’know.” His hands squeezed and released beside his pockets.
So Patch took the step that brought his knob out of the water and his boner dripped between them. Way too much fun watching the big cowboy squirm. He’d come out here looking for trouble; Patch was happy to give it to him.
On the shady shore, Tucker rocked back on his heels and shifted his straw hat to cover the lump under his coveralls.
Patch couldn’t look anywhere else. Another step. The cool mud sucked at his toes in the water dripped from his skin with each step he shouldn’t take.
How had he gotten here? Naked on the family farm, thigh-deep in stagnant water, walking toward a bear trap. New York City and all its fancy bullshit seemed like the other side of the world. Hot wind pushed through the trees overhead; the kudzu hissed and the live oaks whispered above them.
Tucker stood waiting and wary now, a sexy, lazy no-account who’d only ever wanted to scare him straight. They both knew better, but now they stood a yard apart with disaster churning between them.
About the Author:
Damon Suede grew up out-n-proud deep in the anus of right-wing America, and escaped as soon as it was legal. He has lived all over and along the way, he’s earned his crust as a model, a messenger, a promoter, a programmer, a sculptor, a singer, a stripper, a bookkeeper, a bartender, a techie, a teacher, a director... but writing has ever been his bread and butter. He has been happily partnered for over a decade with the most loving, handsome, shrewd, hilarious, noble man to walk this planet.
Damon is a proud member of the Romance Writers of America and the Rainbow Romance Writers. Though new to romance fiction, Damon has been writing for print, stage, and screen for two decades, which is both more and less glamorous than you might imagine. He's won some awards, but counts his blessings more often: his amazing friends, his demented family, his beautiful husband, his loyal fans, and his silly, stern, seductive Muse who keeps whispering in his ear, year after year..
Damon would love to hear from you.... Get in touch with him at:
Website | Newsletter | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub | Google+ | Fresh Fiction | The Romance Reviews | Manic Readers | GLBT Bookshelf
Giveaway:
Click for your chance to win advance and signed copies…an early e-copy of Lickety Split the weekend before it’s available and a signed print copy after it releases along with a pile of swaggy extras.
Back Porch Reader review coming March 13th!
Damon will be popping in and out of Back Porch Reader throughout the day so fill up those comments and let’s keep him busy. ?
James Escol says
Holy moly! :O You got some seductive man there! *wipes my suddenly dry lips with my tongue* Alright. *raises hand* I wouldn’t go there. lol! But that was really scorching! I’d combust if I were in Tucker’s place. *wipes sweat on my forehead* You’re such a tease, Mr. Damon! 😛 Anyway, you’ve hit a lot of dead centers in this post, huh. First, I like your take on erotic romances. And I love the way you write your erotic stories. They’re loaded with passion & substance that I couldn’t help but hold my kindle close to my chest.(Okay. That’s weird.) You seriously have a grip on what the readers would want to see in a novel. Secondly, you’re right when you said that sex can occur anywhere. And kinks shouldn’t just exist on places like penthouse, a unit in a high-rise condo, a mansion. It’s becoming cliche & readers would indeed be aroused at a time but then they’ll realized in the end that reading that kind of book wasn’t worth their time at all. Third, Patch’s love of kink had ironically led me to thinking of his freedom—freedom from the anger brought by his hometown that’s consuming him, freedom from all the doubts that’s holding him back on grabbing the “opportunities” that are within his reach & freedom to just let himself be happy.
Damon Suede says
LOLOL Absolutely, sir! I feel like that’s the great thing about romance: it’s always navigating impossile obstacles without losing sight of happy outcomes. The Literature of Hope indeed! 🙂 Thank you so much.