Ooh, To Be Back in the 1960s Giveaway Winner

Thanks to everyone who went back to the 60s with us this week. Now it's time to announce the winner of our giveaway! And that person is...

Rose Tyler!

If you can email me at vivien_dean@yahoo.com with your format of choice, I'll see that you get your prize as soon as possible.

We've got double the fun for you coming up in May. There will be not one, but TWO paxes coming out! On May 10th, the Second Time Around pax is released, and on May 24, it's the 77th Precinct pax. Excerpts start going up on May 4, so see you then!

Woodstock Gave Me You by J.D. Walker

Laramie meets the perfect man in Bethel...then screws it up.

Laramie Pruitt is in Bethel, New York to experience peace and love at the Woodstock festival. His first day there, he meets Sullivan “Sully” Conyers, an easygoing, handsome guy who Laramie fervently wishes is the same as he—a man who prefers other men. After a dip in the lake to clean off the sweat from a hot day, his wish comes true, and the two men enjoy a late night tryst as well as clandestine kisses under Sully's tarp during a rainstorm.

Everything's perfect, until Laramie takes off in a snit because he and Sully have an argument. He soon regrets his actions when he gets soaked in a downpour, adding insult to injury.  Laramie wants to make amends, but in a sea of thousands, how is he supposed to find Sully and apologize? Perhaps the "flying, fickle, finger of fate" will lend a hand.

Excerpt:

I caught up with him as he staked his claim on a grassy spot that was surprisingly free of mud. It was pretty far from the stage, so far in fact that the people on it were as small as dots. There were fewer people around us here, but before us, the land was covered with humans as far as the eye could see. I didn’t mind that I couldn’t actually see the performers. Hearing the music was enough for me. I had other things on my mind at the moment, however.

“Are you hungry?” Sullivan asked as he spread out the blanket. “I’ve heard rumors that there’s a free kitchen somewhere on the grounds.”

How could he just…blurt out the fact that he was homosexual—and that he knew I was one, too—and then move on as if it hadn’t meant a thing? “Sullivan, what do you—”

“Call me Sully,” he said with a cheeky grin that drew my eyes to the dimple in his chin.

With difficulty, I focused on the issue at hand. “Fine. Sully, did you mean what you said back there, about you, you know…”

“You betcha.”

I swallowed. “Did you know right away that I was—”

“Yup.”

I closed my eyes. “Shit.” It wasn’t that I necessarily minded being known for what I was. I just didn’t want to get harassed for it—here, of all places.

He touched me briefly on the shoulder. “It’s okay. It wasn’t that obvious, though I know all about stereotypes, and people might look at you and assume certain things because of your delicate, almost girlish features, curly blond hair and bright green eyes, along with your slender build.” 

Great.

“But then, I’ve met men who’re twice my size and wear dresses so…” Sully continued, unaware of my dismay. “I try not to judge. I have a sixth sense for men like me, but it was the way you didn’t look at all the nude and semi-nude chicks that are all around us that finally clued me in. One babe was even trying to get you to dance with her last night, but you got this scared expression on your face.”

I’d been terrified, actually. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. We okay now?” he asked, his eyes soft on mine.

“Totally. I just…well, you took me by surprise, you know?”

“I do that to people. You’ll get used to it.” He gave me a confident grin. “So, you want food?”

“I’ve got some fruit here. You go ahead.”

He slapped me on the back, almost sending me to the ground. “See ya in a bit.”

While Sullivan—Sully was gone, I sat on the ground and watched everyone around me in a daze. It was getting closer to show time on the second day of the festival, and the air was electric with excitement.

I never thought I’d meet a kindred spirit of the male kind here, and I was overcome. Whether or not anything would happen between us, I wanted to get to know all I could about Sully Conyers in this brief moment in time.

It took him a while to return to our spot, by which time I’d finished an apple and an orange. “The lines were pretty long,” he said. “Eventually, I got to eat some cold eggs and toast. Here you go.” He handed me a muffin. “I thought you might like that. It’s apple cinnamon.” Far out.

“Thanks,” I said as I took it from him, letting my fingers linger for a second or two. Now that I knew he was like me, I felt free to make my interest known. I glanced at his chest. It was coated with perspiration from the heat of the day, making my mouth water.

“Stop that,” he admonished quietly, as he sat next to me. I could tell he wasn’t really serious, though. “Time enough for playing around later, if that’s what you want.” 

Absolutely!

*_*_*

Woodstock Gave Me You by J.D. Walker is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

The Stonewall Inn: Settling by D.J. Manly

When I saw that Amber Quill was going to offer a Pax on the 1960s, I knew immediately what I wanted my story to be about, the Stonewall Inn.

The Stonewall Inn existed in part due to the greed of the Mob. Selling alcohol to anyone considered to be homosexual (i.e. a sexual deviant or gender traitor), was illegal at that time. The police allowed the mob to operate The Stonewall Inn because they profited from it, collecting money. To get around the law, The Stonewall Inn operated under the guise of a social club. When you came in, you had to sign your name. As you can guess, the names were made up. 

There was no running water in the Stonewall Inn, and glasses were often reused without being properly disinfected. As a result, hepatitis ran rampant. The lighting was dim, and staff had a system by which to warn the patrons of a police raid, which happened regularly. 

Customers were harassed for not dressing ‘appropriately,’ for dancing too close with a member of the same sex, and basically for anything the police wanted. 

And yet, in spite of these conditions, The Stonewall Inn was a haven for those who felt unloved and alienated from the cruel straight world, including runaway youth, and Queens. This sense of community and oppression inspired the patrons to fight back, and fight back they did! 

The Stonewall riots lasted three days but its impact has lasted for decades. The stereotype of the limp wristed, screaming queen who just kept on taking abuse was shattered that night when the patrons of Stonewall fought back. 

Following the riot, the reputation of Stonewall was tainted. Gay rights groups demanded a boycott of establishments run by the mob, who were exploiting the discrimination that existed against Gays and Lesbians. 

Over the years, the old Stonewall Inn building has been many different establishments, including a bagel shop and a Chinese restaurant. In 2007, it was renovated and once again, called Stonewall Inn. The historical significance of the Greenwich Village Bar and its impact on the LGBT rights movement caused the site to be added to the U.S. National Register of Historic Places on June 28th, 1999.

The two characters in The Stonewall Inn: Settling, are an unlikely match. Sam is gay but his mother doesn’t know that. He is the product of an African American mother and a white father, who he doesn’t even remember. He grew up in Harlem where his mother still lives, in a run- down apartment. Sam is given a job tending bar at the Stonewall Inn, after he meets the son of a mobster who owns the bar. Exploited sexually and beaten up regularly, Sam endures this abuse in order to better the situation of his mother and himself. 

Luke, a rookie cop is the son and grandson of New York City police officers. Even his older brother is a cop. He comes from a conservative, white family and dares not question his own feelings too much. 

As far as Sam is concerned, Luke is the enemy. To Luke however, Sam is something completely different.

I hope you like these characters and the story set against actual events. I felt truly honored to write this book. Below is an excerpt from the book.

*_*_*

Charlie excused himself to go to the bathroom. As soon as he did, Luke got to his feet. He walked over to the booth where the bartender and his companion sat. 

The bartender looked shocked. “We weren’t doing anything wrong, officer.”

Luke saw the other guy tighten his hand on his napkin. 

“I didn’t come over here to cause you any trouble. What’s your name?”

“Sam, Sam Brooks.” He cleared his throat. “You wanna’ see my—”

“No. I want you to consider pressing charges against Lewis Marconi. I’m at the 6th precinct. If you come in, ask for Officer Luke Delany, okay? I’ll process the complaint personally.”

Sam just stared at him. Then he laughed.

Luke hadn’t expected to be laughed at.  “Did I say something funny?”

“I can’t believe how naïve you are.”

“Sam.” The other guy shook his head. 

Luke stiffened. “I’m sorry?”

“Listen, I told you once, the cops won’t help us. You’d be wasting your time. Besides, Lewis Marconi is practically untouchable. Everyone knows that. You’d be laughed out of the station. How long you been a cop anyway, a day?” 

Luke’s mouth hardened. “Listen. Whatever hang-up you got with cops, I’m sure you have your reasons. I don’t give a damn. I’m just trying to do my job. I see a citizen who’s been assaulted by someone and that’s a crime. I see the perpetrator walking around with the idea that it’s okay to use his fists on another person. I don’t like that much. If you want to make a report, you know where to find me. Just don’t wait until he kills you.”

*_*_*

In an ideal world, we’d like to think that everything went well for our two lovers, Luke Delany and Samuel Brooks. But in an ideal would, Luke wouldn’t have had to choose between the man he loved and his job. In an ideal world, Sam’s mom would have accepted her son for who he was, and Luke would have been able to bring Sam home for dinner. But then, it wasn’t an ideal world then, nor is it now.

But we know what people like Sam and Luke faced in those years, and the fight still isn’t over. It’s not okay to be openly gay in the NYPD, although a handful of brave souls have “come out” anyway. And in some places in this world you can’t get married to someone of the same sex. 

LGBT people still have stigma, they still get beaten up, murdered, imprisoned and ostracized.  

Luke and Sam would face many battles in the years to come. The AIDS crisis of the eighties where they would lose many friends and maybe even each other, while those in positions of authority stood by and did nothing for years. They would risk being despised, shunned, and abused whenever they were brave enough to hold each other’s hands on the street. Maybe they’d get beaten up or denied access to the hospital room because they weren’t considered family, when one of them was sick or even dying.

We can only hope that Luke and Sam were able to weather all the battles that they would fight. Perhaps they kept on fighting, lying down in the streets with Act Up, or picketing places that openly discriminated. 

Maybe they are still together in their old age, holding hands and, depending on where they live in this world, maybe they even got married. We don’t know. We can speculate on their fate. Luke and Sam are shadows of people who experienced Stonewall, and decided that they had a right to live, to love and to be free things Luke and Sam would have faced in their future up to the present day.  

*_*_*

The Stonewall Inn: Settling by D.J. Manly is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

Look to the Sky by Vivien Dean

I live in a household that is obsessed with the stars. My husband and I both grew up in love with the ideals of Star Trek, devoured science fiction, and spent long hours staring upward. My daughter decided by the age of nine she wanted to go into astrophysics, and while that's changed slightly over the years, she still worships Neil DeGrasse Tyson as much as the rest of us do. 

We live in a world where the possibility of going into a space is a reality, not a dream.

But what if we didn't?

Man took his first steps on the moon on July 21, 1969, the culmination of the decade long Apollo Program. Can you imagine what it must've been like in those years leading up to it? Seeing the stars up close and personal didn't necessarily have to be a pipe dream. All of a sudden, there was hope. With so many men going off to Vietnam, and times changing so swiftly, hope became a very valuable commodity.

That's where my thoughts started when I began contemplating a story for the 60s pax. I wanted to meet the young man who'd had those hopes and find out what happened to him if they got taken away. Because let's face it. Working for NASA is serious business. They prided themselves on taking only the best of the best, so not everybody who wanted to found their way there.

Jim McCutcheon was born. The golden boy with huge dreams, suddenly dragged back to earth by the reality of the world in which he lived.

But who did he love? What kind of boy would steal Jim's heart? And what kind of boy would it take to heal his hurt?

Someone strong. Someone who understood what it meant to lose hope. 

Enter Ronnie. A Vietnam vet who's home again after getting hurt. He had his own baggage to bring into this relationship, but I loved him for his dogged determination and resilience.

So did Jim. And the story of these two young men reconnecting after losing so much turned out to be Silences of Fallen Stars.

When they graduated from high school in 1962, best friends and secret lovers Jim McCutcheon and Ronnie Mayer had high expectations for the rest of their lives. Six years later, both are back in the small Nebraska town they called home, and worse, no longer together.

Once the golden boy, Jim now works on his grandfather’s farm, ignoring the disappointed looks he gets from everyone who expected him to end up at NASA. Ronnie lives in his parents’ basement, recovering from the blast that sent him home from Vietnam. Neither one is where they want to be, but it takes a special request from Ronnie’s mom for Jim to swallow his pride and visit.

Though the trip doesn’t go well, it opens the door for the two young men to start communicating again. One question haunts them, though. Have they changed too much to find their way back to each other?

*_*_*

Silences of Fallen Stars by Vivien Dean is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

Midnight Cowboys by Deirdre O'Dare

“What was it like in the sixties, Grandma? Was it as wild and crazy as it sounds? Was all that drugs, sex and rock n’ roll stuff for real? What about the war and the draft? Didn’t people just choose to enlist or something?”

Have you ever heard this from a teenager in the family who has perhaps finally seen “Hair” on TV on an old movie channel or come across some tattered psychedelic record albums in your stash?  Maybe you don’t remember that era yourself. After all, those who do are no longer the proverbial “spring chickens.”  (And what the heck is a “fall chicken” may I ask?)

When the idea to do a PAX of stories set in the sixties first surfaced many months ago, my antenna went right up and I knew I wanted to do one. For a month or two, I wasn’t sure what I would write about but then one day Riki popped out of that dark, hidden storage space where writers keep ideas or where ideas lurk until we need them. I could just picture him and in a few instants he became totally real. Then the issues and troubles and dreams of that time and place began to crowd my thoughts as well. I wasn’t at Woodstock but I do remember those times…

Next I had to find a foil for Riki. The two young men would have to be total opposites, at least on the surface. All at once here comes Jerry, a proper nerd. He’s way out of his element which was a very small and conservative town in the “piney woods” of east Texas whereas Riki called New Orleans home. Jerry’s folks were almost poor while Riki’s were very well off. Other than being of a similar age, the two had almost nothing in common. They were as different as Jerry’s beat up Volkswagen bug and Riki’s red Corvette.

Once they both started talking to me, the fun began. Their story took some twists and turns I had no idea were going to happen until they did. That is my modus operendi when it comes to writing. If I start out with an outline and all kinds of markers, roadmaps and schematics, the story is DOA. It’s got to come new and raw to me just as if I was reading it for the first time. I truly do feel as if I am taking dictation while the characters sometimes argue and try to shout each other down as they tell me what happens. That’s the excitement to me. Later I have to go back, edit and sometimes tweak things a little bit to bring it all into a neat package but the outline—if any, such as a synopsis--is always written after the story. Just the way I used to do for term papers back in my own school days long, long ago!

The title came along almost simultaneously with the characters. As I acknowledge in an author’s note in the book, the iconic film did not come out until 1969, two years after my story takes place. However I am sure the term was already in the vernacular to some degree and it just has a sixties feel. It fit and I chose to use it! Anyway, I invite readers to step through a time portal and experience the sixties through the lives of two young men coming of age at that time, whether it is your first visit or a nostalgic look back.

If you recall “smoking dope, snorting coke and trying to write a song” or “Purple Haze” or Kent State, flower power and “make love, not war,” this bud is for you. Somewhere I expect there is a Riki and a Jerry, maybe still together after all these years and still doing something related to  music, perhaps in Nashville or LA or even a place that only exists in their world. Do you think? I’d like to believe that, anyway.

*_*_*

Midnight Cowboys by Deirdre O'Dare is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

Laurel Canyon by A.J. Llewellyn

I jumped at the chance to participate in the “Ooh to be Back in the 1960s” Amber PAX™ Collection of stories. I knew immediately I wanted to write about Laurel Canyon partly because I lived there for many, many years, and also because I am still obsessed with the historical aspects of the mythical neighborhood.  

In particular, I love the “Laurel Canyon” music that started in 1966 and swept through the middle of the 1970s. At first, I had some ideas about what I wanted to write and thought it would be fun to focus on a struggling musician rubbing elbows with the big names of the day including Crosby Stills and Nash, The Mamas and the Papas, Sonny and Cher, Joni Mitchell, Frank Zappa, The Beach Boys, and even Charles Manson, a struggling guitarist and songwriter, who would go on to mastermind some of the most gruesome murders the town has ever seen. According to the police, his failure to gain a recording contract with producer Terry Melcher (son of Doris Day) was the reason he turned on the very people he wanted to work with.

Ironically, Manson auditioned for Neil Young but failed to impress him. He wrote a song with Dennis Wilson called Never Learn Not to Love, which the Beach Boys recorded. Manson went berserk when he learned that he hadn’t been given a co-writer credit and threatened to kill Dennis Wilson. He showed up at Wilson’s house but Wilson beat him up! Shortly after this, Manson began orchestrating his murder spree and Wilson freaked out. According to the reports, Wilson became paranoid for a long time after this – and who can blame him?

As I started researching the Laurel Canyon era, I came across information about a riot on Sunset Boulevard that barely made a ripple outside of Los Angeles in 1966, but was a huge story locally back then. It changed everything. Teens were fighting for independence, gay rights was a hotly contested issue, America involving itself in a war that was not its own was a hot-button topic. Racial tensions were about to explode…

Wow. Some things have not changed, have they? 

I opened my story with the Sunset Riots – and was fascinated to find not only first-hand accounts of what happened that night of November 12, 1966, but also actual footage. This riot was preceded by a little-known riot in San Francisco – in August (exact day unknown) in the Tenderloin District. A group of transgender people were discriminated against at the Compton Cafeteria by the local police. A riot broke out. Some footage is available online and many photos too, but the police files have long been destroyed and no newspaper ever reported it.

This incident occurred THREE YEARS before the legendary Stonewall Riots. Just like the brave teens who fought for their right to see music on Sunset Boulevard three months later, many brave men and women fought for their right to buy a cup of coffee, regardless of their gender, race, mode of clothing or their sexuality. These men and women were defended by The Vanguard, a group that developed the first every GLBTQ Youth Group in America.

I hope you read Laurel Canyon and maybe it will help you listen to songs differently and perhaps not take that cup of coffee you drink at your favorite coffee house for granted. I know my thoughts have changed since listening to Buffalo Springfield’s song For What It’s Worth constantly as I wrote this story. I’d always thought it was about Vietnam, but it was, in fact, written by Stephen Stills in the days following the Sunset Riots.

There's something happening here

But what it is ain't exactly clear

There's a man with a gun over there

Telling me I got to beware

I think it's time we stop

Children, what's that sound?

Everybody look, what's going down?

Stephen Stills, “For What it’s Worth

Laurel Canyon Purchase Link: http://www.amberquill.com/store/p/2167-Laurel-Canyon.aspx

Synopsis:

Taris West moves to Los Angeles on November 12, 1966, the very day of the Sunset Riots. Taris, his brother, and cousin, who make up a band called Go West, find themselves in the middle of the battle between teenagers and police. Although Taris is an eyewitness to the riot taking place on the corner of Sunset and Laurel Canyon, he is also eager to explore the mythic hills that are the home to many music legends.

Soon he’s rubbing shoulders with Neil Young, Stephen Stills, Frank Zappa, Sonny and Cher, to name a few. There’s also a slightly mysterious former Air Force officer named Winter, who’s moved to Laurel Canyon to pursue his own musical fortune. Winter is incredible, but he also has a weirdo roommate who puts off everybody he meets. There’s also something strange going on in Winter’s Laurel Canyon house. Somebody keeps bumping and scraping in the middle of the night and a mural above his bed keeps getting additions as Winter and Taris sleep.

Can these two broken men find acceptance, or even love, as history evolves right in front of their eyes? Can they make music together? And what about the burning civil rights issues of the day? Can a little canyon help mend bridges across the universe?

As Frank Zappa would say, “Laurel Canyon is freaky, man.”

Genres: Gay/Nostalgic Contemporary (1960s-Era)/The Arts 

Heat Level: 3 

Length: Novella (27k words)

*     *     *

Excerpt: 

...The line for a table seemed to stretch forever. It was like a sea of leather jackets and stovepipe pants, the faint scent of patchouli oil invading the more pleasant aroma of coffee. I couldn’t help thinking, Mom would love it here. The packed tables were filled with people putting away food like they were going to the chair. Just as we were about to give up and try someplace else, I locked eyes with a guy across the room. His hair was dark and not as long as mine—which reached my shoulders—but curled nicely below his ears. His piercing green eyes mesmerized me.

He beckoned us over to his table for four, which he was sharing with a couple of guys. A couple vacated the seats beside them. We scrambled to thread our way through the countless kids clustered around tables. When we reached the dark-haired guy, he stood and grinned at me.

“Hey, man, you’re welcome to share our table.” He shook my hand after I’d propped my guitar and duffle bag against the wall. “I’m Winter. James Winter, but I just go by Winter.” I liked his name. Ray, Will, and I introduced ourselves. “This is Brent.” He pointed to a guy with chestnut hair. He had the weirdest cut I’d ever seen, like he’d trimmed it himself with his eyes closed. Brent’s bushy beard needed some attention, and his T-shirt had seen cleaner days. The fearsome tattoos on his forearms were intimidating. He nodded to us and kept strumming his guitar.

Winter’s other friend said nothing. His face looked familiar. He seemed older than the rest of us, with his carefully combed mop of hair and a fake fur vest. I noticed the sheriff’s badge pinned to it. Although he had a huge smile on his face, there was fear in his eyes.

“This is Sonny.” Winter gestured to his friend.

“Nice to meet you.” Sonny shook our hands, but kept glancing around. I tried to place him and wondered if he was a politician. He gave off an air of authority, but couldn’t have been a real cop. The choice of the sheriff’s badge struck me as off considering the tension in the coffee shop and out on the street.

A harried-looking waitress came over to us. “What’ll you have?” she asked me.

“Coffee and a ham and cheese sandwich. Please.”

“Me, too,” Ray echoed.

“And me.” Will winked at her.

“You’re easy to please.” The waitress winked back at Will, who seemed to spark to life. He stared after her. Boy, he was getting over Jessamine fast.

A very pretty, serious-looking girl with dead-straight, long black hair parted down the middle, a luminous smile and a face full of pimples joined our table.

“Hi!” she said, taking a seat on Sonny’s lap. She, too, wore a fake fur vest and her black and white striped bell-bottom pants were the widest I’d ever seen.

Winter laughed. “And this is Sonny’s better half, Cher...”

*_*_*

Laurel Canyon by A.J. Llewellyn is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

LATEST PAX RELEASE - Ooh, To Be Back in the 1960s

Genres: Gay (M/M) Erotic Romance

The titles listed below comprise the Ooh, To Be Back in the 1960s AmberPax™ Collection. Buy all five together and receive a 35% discount! To purchase any of the titles individually, click on the covers below to go to the books' separate pages. 

Laurel Canyon by A.J. Llewellyn Novella (Gay)

Midnight Cowboys by Deirdre O'Dare Novella (Gay)

Silences of Fallen Stars by Vivien Dean Novella (Gay)

The Stonewall Inn: Settling by D.J. Manly Extended Novella (Gay)

Woodstock Gave Me You by J.D. Walker Extended Amber Kiss (Gay)

 

In conjunction with our newest release, we will be having a giveaway! Any comment made from today throughout the week (4/19-4/24) will be eligible to win the entire pax collection. A winner will be picked at random on Saturday from all comments received.

Woodstock Gave Me You by J.D. Walker

It’s Woodstock, 1969, and Laramie Pruitt is anxious to feel some peace and love after the recent Stonewall riots in his hometown. While he’s grooving to some great music at the festival, Laramie meets a handsome young man named Sullivan “Sully” Conyers. They get along well, and Sully even tolerates Laramie’s tendency to get on his soapbox about social issues and Big Brother.

Soon, Laramie learns that Sully is gay—just like him. This leads to a tryst later that night and clandestine kisses under Sully’s tarp during a rainstorm. For the first time in his life, Laramie believes he’s found a man to love, a man who could love him in return...maybe.

But as always, Laramie’s mouth gets him into trouble. He takes off in a snit, but soon regrets his actions and yearns to return to Sully and apologize. Yet in a sea of half a million people, how is he supposed to locate the one man who could be his everything?

Genres: Gay/Nostalgic Contemporary (1960s-Era)/Exhibitionism/Public Places
Heat Level: 3

Length: Extended Amber Kiss (12k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...When we got back to our spot in the field, Shelly and some of her buddies were sitting on our blankets. I supposed that was one way to make sure our stuff didn’t disappear. We thanked her, and settled back into our space.

Sully and I rolled out our sleeping bags to prepare for sleep. I noted the strong smell of weed and something else around us. Turned out that Shelly’s buddies were big time stoners. They offered us a joint. I declined, feeling high enough on life already. Sully took a hit.

The music kept on going, and I lay down, staring up at the stars while zoning out on the bliss I’d experienced just now in the lake. Who knew I’d meet someone like Sully here at the festival?

It was definitely an added bonus to find a friend, and maybe more. I wondered what he felt about the whole thing. I turned my head to see what my new, intimate buddy was doing. I could just make out his body as he moved to the rhythm of the music.

I wanted to reach out and touch him, feel the muscles tense and release. Hopefully we’d have a chance at more than a hand job in the near future.

While I was grooving to Sly and the Family Stone, my eyes drifted closed. I awoke a little while later to find the tarp covering us again, and Sully close by in his sleeping bag.

“Sorry, buddy. Didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered.

“That’s okay.” I yawned wide enough to crack my face. “Did it start to rain, or something?”

“Naw. I used the possibility of showers as an excuse to give us a little privacy.” I could hear the grin in his voice.

“You dog, you.” I unzipped my bag a little so I could take out my hands. “I want to kiss you.”

Sully obliged by leaning closer. His lips tasted as good as I remembered. We stayed like that for a while, another band on stage as we created our own little world in the middle of a field in Bethel.

“You’re a good kisser, Laramie,” he whispered, right before he nipped at the tip of my nose.

“You have the best lips I’ve ever savored.” And then I yawned again.

“Tired, huh?” he asked.

“A bit. Sorry to ruin the mood.”

He chuckled. “Don’t you worry about that. We’ll find a way to be together later. You’re not getting away that easily...”

The Stonewall Inn: Settling by D.J. Manly

Sam owes his and his mothers’ jobs at the Stonewall Inn to a violent, closeted mobster, so he puts up with a lot of things, including the man’s abuse. In fact, when rookie cop Luke Delany meets him for the first time, Sam’s face is black and blue.

In general, Sam doesn’t care for many white men, especially cops who are constantly harassing nonwhites and homosexuals like himself. But Luke is in great turmoil over his own sexuality and needs Sam’s help. Is Sam willing to aid a lawman whom he considers an enemy?

Genres: Gay/Nostalgic Contemporary (1960s-Era)/Interracial/Multicultural
Heat Level: 3

Length: Extended Novella (38k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...Charlie tossed his head toward the bartender and his friend. “That bartender has Marconi stamped all over him, and from the look of his face, Marconi knows how to keep him in line, too.” He sniggered.

“I think it’s disgusting.” Luke sipped his coffee.

“Those guys are disgusting.”

“No, Charlie, what happened to his face. No one has a right to beat someone like that. I’m sure Marconi wouldn’t like it if I did it to his face.”

Charlie sat back in the booth. “These freaks like it. Trust me, they get what they ask for, on their knees, sucking men’s cock. What do you want?”

Luke didn’t comment.

“You some big defender of Nellie boys now?”

“No. I’m a cop. I thought our job was to protect people.”

“Those aren’t people, they’re freaks.”

Luke shook his head and drained his cup. “I don’t think so.”

Charlie sighed, not prepared to give up the argument. “Listen, those kinds are like chicks in their head. Some broads like to be tossed around a bit, makes ’em feel loved to be put in their place. That bartender over there is the same. He likes big, tough guys like Lewis to make him feel…I don’t know, feminine or some shit.”

“You know what, Charlie, personally, no offense, but I think your theories are full of crap and based on nothing.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. Then he started to laugh. “You’ll learn, and you know, you need a haircut, kid.”

Julie came back with the food. It was going to take more than a haircut for Luke to start believing that anyone wanted to end up battered and bruised.

They ate. Luke had to tell Charlie a half dozen times that the pancakes were the best he’d ever eaten. As he ate, he was aware of the bartender watching him off and on. He really tried not to look at him, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. The man was directly in his line of vision.

It bothered him that the guy’s face looked like that, and that bastards like Marconi were allowed to walk around, doing whatever to hell they wanted to people. Guys like the bartender were vulnerable. Who was going to protect them against bullies like that? And it looked like they couldn’t even turn to the cops.

Charlie excused himself to go to the bathroom. As soon as he did, Luke got to his feet. He walked over to the booth where the bartender and his companion sat.

The bartender looked shocked. “We weren’t doing anything wrong, officer.”

Luke saw the other guy tighten his hand on his napkin.

“I didn’t come over here to cause you any trouble. What’s your name?”

“Sam, Sam Brooks.” He cleared his throat. “You wanna’ see my—”

“No. I want you to consider pressing charges against Lewis Marconi. I’m at the 6th precinct. If you come in, ask for Officer Luke Delany, okay? I’ll process the complaint personally.”

Sam just stared at him. Then he laughed.

Luke hadn’t expected to be laughed at. “Did I say something funny?”

“I can’t believe how naïve you are.”

“Sam.” The other guy shook his head.

Luke stiffened. “I’m sorry?”

“Listen, I told you once, the cops won’t help us. You’d be wasting your time. Besides, Lewis Marconi is practically untouchable. Everyone knows that. You’d be laughed out of the station. How long you been a cop anyway, a day?”

Luke’s mouth hardened. “Listen. Whatever hang-up you got with cops, I’m sure you have your reasons. I don’t give a damn. I’m just trying to do my job. I see a citizen who’s been assaulted by someone and that’s a crime. I see the perpetrator walking around with the idea that it’s okay to use his fists on another person. I don’t like that much. If you want to make a report, you know where to find me. Just don’t wait until he kills you...”

Silences of Fallen Stars by Vivien Dean

When they graduated from high school in 1962, best friends and secret lovers Jim McCutcheon and Ronnie Mayer had high expectations for the rest of their lives. Six years later, both are back in the small Nebraska town they called home, and worse, no longer together.

Once the golden boy, Jim now works on his grandfather’s farm, ignoring the disappointed looks he gets from everyone who expected him to end up at NASA. Ronnie lives in his parents’ basement, recovering from the blast that sent him home from Vietnam. Neither one is where they want to be, but it takes a special request from Ronnie’s mom for Jim to swallow his pride and visit.

Though the trip doesn’t go well, it opens the door for the two young men to start communicating again. One question haunts them, though. Have they changed too much to find their way back to each other?

Genres: Gay/Nostalgic Contemporary (1960s-Era)
Heat Level: 2

Length: Novella (22k words) 

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...“Fine,” Ronnie said. “Let’s get this over with.”

He stared at him in confusion. “Get what over with?”

“The inquisition. Whatever it’s going to take to make you feel better about visiting your old crip buddy after ignoring him for six years.”

“I didn’t…” Anger burned away any chance he had at eloquence. Ronnie’s bitter tone made his accusation sound valid when Jim knew it was at least partially wrong. “You have no idea what my life has been like since you went away.”

“You mean, since you went away. You left first, remember?”

“I was always going to leave first. That was the plan!”

“Really? All you did when you came home that first Christmas was boast about all your new friends and how much better everything was in Omaha. You didn’t even care about what was going on here.”

“That’s not true.”

“Which part?”

“All of it?”

Ronnie cocked a quizzical eyebrow. “So you didn’t spend two weeks talking about that stupid fraternity you wanted to get into? And all the girls who wouldn’t leave you alone? And that flake Howard you were tutoring who couldn’t find his ass with both hands and a flashlight?”

He had, but the fact that Ronnie remembered all of it, even down to Howard’s name, surprised him. “You acted like you weren’t even listening to me.” That was why he’d laid it on even thicker. He’d been desperate for Ronnie to keep believing in him when Jim knew he had every right not to.

“I always listened to you,” Ronnie replied bitterly.

“Have you been mad at me about that this whole time?” It would explain his chilly reception and why he’d never written once after he’d been shipped off. Jim hadn’t written, either, but that stemmed from guilt. He’d always thought Ronnie was bigger than that.

Ronnie’s gaze slid sideways. “No,” he muttered. “But I was mad enough then to sign up.”

The confession cut off any further argument Jim might’ve made. His world felt like it had dropped out from under him, even more than it had when he’d first found out Ronnie was gone. “I thought you were drafted.”

“That’s what I made everybody think. I didn’t want Mom to be upset that I picked enlisting over everything else.”

“So you went off to Vietnam because of me.” He was going to be sick. “You got hurt because I was an asshole.”

“No, I got hurt because we hit a bomb in the road and it blew up the truck,” Ronnie countered. “Not everything is about you, Jim.”

Such a simple sentence. It put him in his place, though, because he would be the first to admit he’d always liked considering himself as the center of Ronnie’s world.

“I hated thinking of you over there,” Jim admitted.

“I learned how to take care of myself. I lasted four years before I got sent home. It could’ve been worse. It could’ve been I never came home at all.”

That really would’ve been worse, though Jim couldn’t imagine feeling lower than he did right now. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? You’re alive. That’s what matters. That’s all I’ve ever cared about...”

Midnight Cowboys by Deirdre O'Dare

Two young men from different backgrounds end up roommates at a state college in west Texas during the latter part of the turbulent ’60s. In the course of their developing relationship, both get an education while treading near the edge of risk and ruin in a time when “anything goes.”

Riki is the black sheep of a wealthy family with one final chance to avoid the draft or disinheritance. His dream is to become a hot guitarist with a rock band, but his weakness for recreational drugs might become a stumbling block. Jerry is a true son of Bible Belt America, happy to be in college and perhaps rise above the lower middle class level of his family. He has to grow rapidly through his shock and meld into the times that had not yet found his small-town roots.

When the two men form an unlikely friendship, will it develop into a deeper bond as they experience drugs, sex, and rock ’n’ roll? And will that bond bring them to the brink of disaster, or lead them down the path to maturity and knowledge?

Genres: Gay/Nostalgic Contemporary (1960s-Era)/The Arts/Voyeurism
Heat Level: 3

Length: Novella (18k words) 

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...“Let’s get outta here,” Riki said, all at once. “I ain’t sitting in this shitpit room another minute. I hear there’s a bar in that classy hotel across the border where you can pick up hot older chicks and they’ll pay you for some fun instead of the other way around. If I’m gonna keep gas in my car, I gotta bring in some bread. You better get into some different rags, though. Nobody wants to be seen with a dork.”

Jerry wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “Women paying to get fucked? Man, that’s weird shit. I never heard of that. So, can I borrow a pair of jeans and a shirt? This is really all I have, and I can’t afford new—er—threads right now.”

Riki shrugged. “Sure. We’re close to the same size. Jeans might be a little short, but better than those khakis. Yuck. You done with that paper?”

“Yours is. Mine’s almost. I can finish it in the morning.”

Jerry lost no time in changing, then the two of them clomped down the stairs. On a week night, the dorm was quiet. Still, nobody locked the main doors so they could come and go as they chose. At least the men had more freedom than the girls. He’d heard their dorms were locked at nine on weeknights and midnight on Friday and Saturday.

They took Riki’s ’Vette across the Rio Grande after Jerry kicked in a couple of dollars for some gas. They found the bar, all right…a joint called the Purple Panther, much more of a classy cocktail lounge than a simple, small town saloon. It was in a pretty choice-looking hotel, too. Once inside, they stood out like a couple of whores in church. Most of the people there were men and most wore suits and ties, like guys who worked in the big oil company offices and probably drove Caddies and BMWs. The women were really foxy, although most of them seemed tall and there was something a bit odd about them. Although Jerry couldn’t put a finger on it, they just didn’t seem quite right. Well, maybe rich women really were different. After all, how many did he know?

Riki ordered drinks, and they sipped them, lounging against the bar, while they scoped out the room. Finally, an older man approached them. Good-looking for an older guy, well dressed in a silvery-gray three-piece suit, crisp white shirt and extra wide, striped tie. Slim and dapper, he looked elegant and distinguished with his silver-dusted hair and a neat mustache.

“I haven’t seen you boys here before. Looking for some action? A little fun?”

Riki’s glance followed one of the women, a leggy blonde. The man chuckled. “No use wasting your time there, sugar. She’s not a she, if you know what I mean. Some of the men like the illusion until they get down to business. You couldn’t afford that one, anyway. Lucky for you, you don’t have to. A friend and I can show you a better time and make it worth your while.”

When Jerry felt his heart jump into his throat, he tried not to show his shock. This was not what he had expected, although he wasn’t sure he could perform with a rich lady, either, even for money. His experience was seriously limited...

Laurel Canyon by A.J. Llewellyn

Taris West moves to Los Angeles on November 12, 1966, the very day of the Sunset Riots. Taris, his brother, and cousin, who make up a band called Go West, find themselves in the middle of the battle between teenagers and police. Although Taris is an eyewitness to the riot taking place on the corner of Sunset and Laurel Canyon, he is also eager to explore the mythic hills that are the home to many music legends.

Soon he’s rubbing shoulders with Neil Young, Stephen Stills, Frank Zappa, Sonny and Cher, to name a few. There’s also a slightly mysterious former Air Force officer named Winter, who’s moved to Laurel Canyon to pursue his own musical fortune. Winter is incredible, but he also has a weirdo roommate who puts off everybody he meets. There’s also something strange going on in Winter’s Laurel Canyon house. Somebody keeps bumping and scraping in the middle of the night and a mural above his bed keeps getting additions as Winter and Taris sleep.

Can these two broken men find acceptance, or even love, as history evolves right in front of their eyes? Can they make music together? And what about the burning civil rights issues of the day? Can a little canyon help mend bridges across the universe?

As Frank Zappa would say, “Laurel Canyon is freaky, man.”

Genres: Gay/Nostalgic Contemporary (1960s-Era)/The Arts
Heat Level: 3

Length: Novella (27k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...The line for a table seemed to stretch forever. It was like a sea of leather jackets and stovepipe pants, the faint scent of patchouli oil invading the more pleasant aroma of coffee. I couldn’t help thinking, Mom would love it here. The packed tables were filled with people putting away food like they were going to the chair. Just as we were about to give up and try someplace else, I locked eyes with a guy across the room. His hair was dark and not as long as mine—which reached my shoulders—but curled nicely below his ears. His piercing green eyes mesmerized me.

He beckoned us over to his table for four, which he was sharing with a couple of guys. A couple vacated the seats beside them. We scrambled to thread our way through the countless kids clustered around tables. When we reached the dark-haired guy, he stood and grinned at me.

“Hey, man, you’re welcome to share our table.” He shook my hand after I’d propped my guitar and duffle bag against the wall. “I’m Winter. James Winter, but I just go by Winter.” I liked his name. Ray, Will, and I introduced ourselves. “This is Brent.” He pointed to a guy with chestnut hair. He had the weirdest cut I’d ever seen, like he’d trimmed it himself with his eyes closed. Brent’s bushy beard needed some attention, and his T-shirt had seen cleaner days. The fearsome tattoos on his forearms were intimidating. He nodded to us and kept strumming his guitar.

Winter’s other friend said nothing. His face looked familiar. He seemed older than the rest of us, with his carefully combed mop of hair and a fake fur vest. I noticed the sheriff’s badge pinned to it. Although he had a huge smile on his face, there was fear in his eyes.

“This is Sonny.” Winter gestured to his friend.

“Nice to meet you.” Sonny shook our hands, but kept glancing around. I tried to place him and wondered if he was a politician. He gave off an air of authority, but couldn’t have been a real cop. The choice of the sheriff’s badge struck me as off considering the tension in the coffee shop and out on the street.

A harried-looking waitress came over to us. “What’ll you have?” she asked me.

“Coffee and a ham and cheese sandwich. Please.”

“Me, too,” Ray echoed.

“And me.” Will winked at her.

“You’re easy to please.” The waitress winked back at Will, who seemed to spark to life. He stared after her. Boy, he was getting over Jessamine fast.

A very pretty, serious-looking girl with dead-straight, long black hair parted down the middle, a luminous smile and a face full of pimples joined our table.

“Hi!” she said, taking a seat on Sonny’s lap. She, too, wore a fake fur vest and her black and white striped bell-bottom pants were the widest I’d ever seen.

Winter laughed. “And this is Sonny’s better half, Cher...”