Lee Benoit

Marvelous review for "Winter"

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 02:32:39 GMT

I am reduced to blush-and-stammer by this gracious review by logophilos! It's over at Uniquely Pleasurable, where you'll find unparalleled GLBT recommendations, reviews, and announcements.

Says she, "The writing, as always with this amazing author, is clean, exquisite and poetic..."

"Whether you’re reading this in a northern heatwave, when the thoughts of snow and cold winds are refreshing, or in a southern winter, looking for something to snuggle up with, this novella is highly recommended."

Heck, I wrote the thing and Ann's review makes me want to read it again!

If you feel similarly, head over here to check out an excerpt and maybe even buy "Servant of the Seasons 2: Winter."

A series you may have missed

Sun, 15 Jun 2008 14:04:18 GMT

lgbtq_recs is presenting a month of book/movie/music recs (full of new and wonderful stuff for me to spend time and money on)!

My contribution this week is a series I'm surprised more folks haven't encountered.

The author is Trewin Greenaway; he's immensely talented, and a dear friend.

The first three fat, handsome volumes of the series are available for FREE here. The fourth and final volume is almost finished, so you won't have to wait too long to find out how it all ties together.

The books have occasional illustrations, maps, and such, and the author has commissioned artwork by Kiriko Moth and Tristan Alexander!

The Cronnex absorbing, sexy, cheeky, and breathtakingly well written. I highly recommend it.

It’s hard to review a book you love. As reviewer Ruth Franklin has written, “Falling in love, even with a book, makes you vulnerable, and most of us are not inclined to parade our vulnerabilities in public.” The compulsion to share books we love excites twin frissons of fear. What if those to whom we sing the praises of a book stand immune to its charms, even, monstrously, reveal flaws we have been too besotted to acknowledge? On the other hand, what if we succeed too well and new readers come to think of our beloved book as their own? In the case of Trewin Greenaway’s Cronnex series I find I am willing to expose my vulnerability at any risk.

A warning before we begin: At the beginning of each of the novels, the protagonists are young, and discovering their sexuality. While the author is careful to explain that they are reckoned men in their preindustrial societies, depicts coming-of-age ceremonies, and is not exploitative in his treatment of their sexual activity, this is probably the chief element that separates this fine work from professionally published fiction. The novels also contain violence and hints of sexual predation in the back stories of certain characters.

The Cronnex is a series of four novels, serialized since 2004 and nearly complete, available online here (click on the dragons’ gem to enter). The website and the pdf story files are handsomely produced and illustrated - a lovely complement to the stories themselves.

And what stories they are! Greenaway takes conventional fantasy themes and twists them delightfully into something fresh and engaging. The plots of the four novels are summarized with some spoilers on the Wikipedia page devoted to the series.

In brief, however, The Cronnex tells the stories of the Nithaial, mythical avatars of a goddess, whose charge it is to preserve the balance between humans and the divine.

Volume 1, Jessan, tells the story of the Nithaial Galgaliel, whose dominions are air and water, and whose major quest is to defeat a rogue Nithaial whose bad behavior threatens the Kingdom. His secondary quest is to reawaken the two far-flung seats of his power.

Volume 2, Niccas is the story of the Nithaial Elimiel, master of earth and fire. It’s a darker tale, more complex than Jessan.

Volume 3, Wisferon alternates between Niccas’ and Jessan’s voices, and is the story of their race to find each other and thus come into their full power. The rogue Nithaial is still at large, and the forces of imbalance are much more nefarious and numerous than previously supposed.

Dionis, the final volume, is set some dozen years beyond the ending of Wisferon, and tells the story of a young, cloistered boy who magically evades a holy edict to become female at his majority. His refusal to bow to the expectations of those in authority brings him new and strange friends, some especially nasty enemies, and the very difficult choice between love and the restoration of the Nithaial.

These brief synopses can do nothing but elide the richness of character, cleverness of dialogue, impressionistic deftness of setting, ambiguous morality, shifting cosmology, and sly tweaking of fantasy conventions that Greenaway brings to his work.

One of the chief delights of reading The Cronnex is watching Greenaway develop and gain confidence as a writer. As the story progresses, the themes become more complex and the resolutions more double-edged. He remains true to his story line and characters throughout, however, which is impressive given the scope and size of the work, and its serialized nature. Fans of high fantasy may be disappointed that the focus of these works stays firms on the characters; their stories are microcosms of a world - indeed a cosmology - in a transformational moment. The climactic transformations are achieved, not by mighty wizard duels or pitched battles, but by the difficult, sometimes wrongheaded, always fascinating decisions of the flawed, fabulous main characters.

Another pure pleasure of The Cronnex is the characterization, especially of the main characters: Greenaway’s own evident affection for his characters inspires an answering affection in his readers. Niccas, Jessan, and Dionis are distinct protagonists, and the bounded rationality of their narration makes for delicious caesuras during which we the readers know more about what’s going on than our heroes do. The secondary characters, even the archetypal ones, are finely drawn and three-dimensional, even if their parts to play are small.

A third reason to read The Cronnex is a particular cultural phenomenon Greenaway builds into his world. Same-sex pairings are not particularly verboten, and the world includes a designation for an oath-bonded friend or lover of either sex: twerë. The state of twerën is one I wish my own society recognized.

Fantasy fans will enjoy Greenaway’s sly touches, like where wizards come from, a novel herbology, messy alchemy, and stock fantasy conventions set cheekily on their ears.

Fans of gay fiction will appreciate the varied (sometimes sweet, sometimes earthy, sometimes edgy) sexuality, which always serves the plot (never interrupts it), and the profoundly gay sensibility of the storyline.

Jessan, Niccas, and Wisferon are complete and available as free PDF downloads here.
Dionis, the final volume, is two chapters from completion, and is available for a small fee to subscribers, here.
The PDFs are very thoughtfully formatted and handsomely produced, with occasional illustrations throughout.

Greenaway has commissioned accompanying artwork from the graphic artist Kiriko Moth and fantasy illustrator Tristan Alexander. Kiriko's lovely illustration is available for sale here, and viewable to Cronnex subscribers on the Cronnex site. Alexander's Cronnex gallery is here, with prints available for sale.

A rank amateur takes on a professional sir!

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 04:17:34 GMT

I've just posted my take on sydmcginley's fantabulous Dr. Fell series over on lgbtq_recs.

Here's the link.

Not since Mr. Benson has a fictional character stood so ready to enter the annals of gay iconography as Syd McGinley’s Dr. John Fell.

In a sub-genre rife with cartoonish, fetishized images of consensual power exchange, McGinley gives us, in an ongoing series of novellas and shorts, a serious, sympathetic, sexy, and deeply responsible perspective on the Dominant/submissive lifestyle. She also delivers a searing portrait of a grieving lover. The magical thing about this series is that the author deploys these two heavy elements as the bass line in a series of stories as varied as they are engaging.

The Dr. Fell plots and characters get the star treatment by avid reader and reviewer Louisa Clark (aka angusdevotee) on her web site: http://angusdevotee.net/mcginley_series.html. There you will find descriptions and reviews of the stories, a comprehensive character list, and more. Rather than try to repeat that wonderful presentation here, I’ll simply give a few of the many reasons any reader of gay fiction will relish these well crafted tales.

CHARACTER Dominants, submissives, and secondary characters all are fully realized. There is no cookie cutter in Syd McGinley’s writing kit. This is no small feat in a series with a cast of dozens. Dominants come to Dr. Fell seeking training and guidance for their subs and on their own paths. Though John Fell views “rich doms” with a healthy suspicion, he’s deeply committed to the culture of dominance and submission, and steps up unfailingly. “Broken” subs come trailing their various peccadilloes (everything from vanity to drug addiction to histories of abuse) and, in his capacity as “professional sir,” Fell seeks to understand what each one needs and how best their owners might meet those needs. More problematic are his relationships with the Doms, many of whom are ill prepared for their roles, some of whom are old friends of Fell’s, and all of whom have something to learn from this “Dom’s Dom.” The challenge for the self-contained Fell is to learn his own lessons in the process.

Most compelling of all, of course, is Dr. Fell himself. Many of the most memorable novels of the BDSM lifestyle, including classic leather tales, are told from the perspective of the submissive, to whom the Dom is an enigmatic monolith. Not so here. Dr. Fell, grieving his murdered lover and disenchanted with the academic career he worked for years to achieve, is an enigma to himself. His journey from stand-in Dom to Dominant lover ready to take a new sub is compelling from just about any applicable genre perspective, including romance. But Fell is anything but a traditional romantic lead. Dr. Fell is a working class kid in a field (Renaissance Studies) and subculture (D/s) that don’t suffer interlopers lightly. In turn, Dr. Fell holds himself - and those around him - to a very high standard indeed. Authenticity - not opulence, not credentials - is his yardstick.

DIALOGUE Narrated in Dr. Fell’s strong first person voice, the stories convey a terrific sense of their protagonist. But the subs, in particular, shine in their dialogue. Each voice is distinct, and each character contributes something. And whether internal or between characters, the dialogue is where Syd McGinley’s sly, dry wit come across. The verbal interplay is one of the great pleasures of the Fell series, which is entirely appropriate to a story that revolves around a character for whom words are both passion and paycheck.

SEX Yes, these are sexy stories. For those readers for whom D/s is something new, or who profess it’s not their thing, I would argue that the Dr. Fell series offers the deep psychology and the deep eroticism of the lifestyle without ever drifting into the didactic. The matter-of-fact descriptions of D/s work and play are exciting, imaginative, and hot, always integral to the plot, and always true to character. When the odd vanilla scene pops up, it seems strange and exotic by comparison.

PLOT Each tale within the Dr. Fell cycle is a complete, well-crafted story with a solid resolution. While certain elements are integral to all the stories -- Dr. Fell grieving the his beloved Rob, for example -- others rise and fall within specific tales. The in-progress three part novella series collectively titled “Lost and Found” deals as much with Dr. Fell’s reclamation of self as it does with his search for a new sub to love. The plots are sometimes light (as in the holiday romps “Samhain” and “Sol Invictus”) and other times heart wrenching (as in the first Lost and Found tale, “Pet Rescue”), but they are consistently absorbing and fully rendered.

Readers of gay literary fiction, m/m romance, and BDSM fiction all will find something to love in these stories. I’d even go so far as to say that, with their multitudinous cast, timely plot elements, high drama, deft humor, and huge heart, they give classic soaps like Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City a run for their money.

The Dr. Fell tales, in timeline order:

(Titles without release dates are available now from Syd McGinley’s author page at Torquere Press.)

Pet Sitting
Lost and Found 1: Pet Rescue
"A Short Leash" (In Torquere Press' Toy Box: Cock Rings anthology)
"Rude Mechanicals" (In Torquere Press' Summer Solstice Taste Test. Coming June 2008.)
Lost and Found 2: Exotic Pets (Release Date: June 28th)
"A Secret Vice" (In Torquere Press' Toy Box: Nipple Clamps anthology)
Samhain
Sol Invictus
"Saturnalia" (Free seasonal short available from Torquere Press' Advent 2007 Calendar)
Lost and Found 3: Teacher's Pet (Release Date: August 2008)

The author has made a pair of trailers (embedded behind the cut), one for the series as a whole and one for the “Lost and Found” story arc. There’s also a short comic by the author, available here.

More about Syd McGinley and her works is available at her web site or on her lj: sydmcginley

"Catching Out" is "just amazing"

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 14:45:05 GMT

dakotaflint says so, in her very kind review over at Rainbow Reviews.

Read the rest here.

And THANK YOU, Dakota!!

"Catching Out" is part of Torquere's Blind Dates Taste Test, and you can check it out here.

New release!!

Sat, 31 May 2008 14:12:16 GMT

"Winter" is here!!

The second of four installments in my Chaser series, "Servant of the Seasons," is available now from Torquere Press.

As the changeable Lys and Tywyll progress through their annual cycle of waxing and waning with the seasons, they work with Edor to revive the land, avoid the Salters (and other dangers), and awaken Edor's repressed sexuality.

Yes, this one has sex, for those whose tastes run that way.

It also has a glossary, for those whose tastes run that way.

Read more about "Winter," including an excerpt, here.

Buy it here.

If you missed Part 1 of this series, "Autumn," check it out here.

Tagged!

Fri, 30 May 2008 13:50:44 GMT

So, alex_beecrofttagged me. Now you all know whom to blame. ;) Here are the rules:

Tell seven random and/or interesting things about myself. Get five blog buddies to play, too and link to their blogs. Don’t forget to post the rules.

1. My most pronounced character trait is the power of observation. Serves me in the day job, serves me as a writer, serves me as a parent. My most pronounced character flaw is overweening shyness, which is why I seldom act on what I observe. That's also why the balance of this list falls under "random" rather than "interesting."

2. Without realizing it or intending to do so, I named both of my children after things I loved in my youth but lost as an adult. Elder son is named for my brilliant, beautiful, Argentine exile mathematician stepfather. Younger son is named for the coastal town in Maine where my granparents lived and where I most fully knew myself.

3. I have a five-inch horizontal scar on my upper back. I never tell the truth about its origin.

4. I have consorted with black marketeers in Cuba. Great way to spend a couple of summers.

5. I am far sexier when I do overseas fieldwork. It's not that I assume a mantle of appeal when I work, but rather that many non-Western cultures include a much more forgiving (an optimist would say celebratory) range of beauty norms.

6. I never refuse a ride on a motorcycle.
6a. I have never driven a motorcycle.

7. I designed my tattoo. It's three interlocking Trees of Life, sits opposite the scar (see #3), and has about the same diameter.

So, now I tag five unsuspecting innocents? Let's hear from sydmcginley, rhyssd, dakotaflint, gwailowrite, and claredivatoo.

I just know I'll think of seven truly fascinating Lee Facts the second I post this....

Because Kit Zheng asked...

Tue, 27 May 2008 03:12:14 GMT

...here's the full watercolor from which my LJ icon is a detail. I was inspired by the marvelous CRONNEX series, a four-volume opus by my dear friend Trewin Greenaway. Three fat , hansomely produced volumes are available for free download here. The fourth volume is serialized and nearly complete. I can't recommend his work highly enough.

Thrilling review!

Sun, 25 May 2008 20:50:42 GMT

I'm almost embarassed to post an excerpt from Ann Somerville's wildly generous review of "Catching Out," my story in Torquere's Blind Dates Taste Test.

But honestly, how often do I get to report that someone (besides my dog) thinks I'm "one of the most talented and poetic writers in this or any genre"??

Thank you, Ann, for a review that has me beet-red and tickled pink!!

Book rec: "Interstitial" by Ann Somerville

Thu, 22 May 2008 08:47:49 GMT

I don’t often recommend a book I haven’t also reviewed somewhere, but “Interstitial” by Ann Somerville deserves a wide audience, so here I am.

North loves Seb; Jati loves North. The way the publisher describes this new release from Ann Somerville, we’re prepared for a good old-fashioned (or is that new-fashioned) ménage story. Put them on a sentient space ship on a mission gone deadly wrong, and you have a ready-made conflict.

But “Interstitial” transcends its advertising. Seb, captain of the Naurus, has a telepathic link to his ship but, disastrously, not to his crew. A one-night stand with his friend and pilot, North, has led to awkward feelings, and North’s theretofore undisclosed romantic feelings for Seb have caused him to break off a friends-with-benefits relationship with the ship’s engineer, Jati. Jati, in turn, has played her feelings for North close to the vest until it was too late.

Somerville deploys these classic romance devices in a fresh, clever story. Part of that freshness is in the sharp characterizations and sharper dialogue. Seb, especially, as an “emotionally constipated” war hero recently surprised by a divorce that been in the offing for years, is a marvelously prickly romantic lead. Each character speaks (in narration and dialogue) in a distinct voice, and we’re emotionally invested in how these three will tease out their misunderstandings well before anything horrible happens to them.

But happen, horrible things do. Somerville pits her cast of characters against a truly chilling adversary, and their mad dash to vanquish it is deeply absorbing. That Somerville never drops the interpersonal story, deftly playing her characters’ literal battle against their struggles with each other, results in a superior story. That Somerville also avoids a facile, false resolution, speaks to her writing chops; her characters win through against staggering odds - emotional and physical - and come out the other side battered but wiser. Character development this head on and realistic is rare in any genre.

“Interstitial” is the whole package: cracking good writing, genuinely interesting characters, a finely balanced plot, and an original take on - and resolution to - a classic love triangle.

Somerville is donating proceeds from the sale of “Interstitial” to Doctors Without Borders/Medecins sans Frontieres, an added bonus.

I highly recommend it. Look for it here.

New release!!

Thu, 22 May 2008 01:50:17 GMT

Hi all,

I have a story in Torquere Press' new Taste Test: Blind Dates!! I'm really excited to be sharing pages with Jodi Payne and Alex Marcus-Jacobs.

Here's a blurb: Blind Dates have a rotten reputation for a reason. They can be risky, at best, but not all of them have to end badly. In "The Cure" by Jodi Payne, researcher Jeremy humors his friend and meets Ben for a blind date. He thinks Ben is a little too arrogant, and decides there won't be a second date, but Ben's bravery in the face of danger might just change his mind. In "Dinner and a Movie," by Alex Marcus-Jacobs, Mark's co-worker sets him up with another man, thinking it will be a great joke. Mark fools everyone, though, when he lets his curiosity have free rein. And in "Catching Out," by Lee Benoit, Ab is ready to take on a new relationship, so his family and friends set him up on a slew of blind dates. When he meets Mole, he sees a whole new life opening up. Can Ab find the courage to go for it? Find out how these blind dates turn out!

"Catching Out" was inspired by dear friends of mine who live life much more on the edge than I do, riding the rails, doing migrant labor, trying to change the world. Ab is an ordinary guy who learns that a life without roots doesn't necessarily mean a life with no sense of home. There's also a rat named Ratty, a dog named Bugger, and boys kissing boys.

I'd be tickled if you picked up a copy. You can do that here.

Cheers,
Lee

Big Joy

Sat, 17 May 2008 20:25:06 GMT

The gracious Alex Beecroft, whom I interviewed with great pleasure for Speak Its Name a week or so ago, has turned around and made some lovely noise about my Chaser novella, "Servant of the Seasons 1: Autumn."

Among her generous comments was this one:

"...we're treated to a story that takes its world building seriously!"

Read Alex's entire review here!

And thank you!

P.S. For any of you who enjoyed "Autumn," the second part of the saga unfolds in...wait for it..."Winter," due later this month from Torquere Press.

Interview

Fri, 09 May 2008 10:57:05 GMT

New experience for me: an author interview! I had the distinct pleasure of interviewing Alex Beecroft for Speak Its Name, the blog devoted to gay historical fiction. She's the author of the marvelous Age of Sail novel Captain's Surrender and the new fantasy The Witch's Boy. She's also a thoughtful, charming, intelligent person. I had a blast interviewing Alex, which I think comes across nicely in the interview.

You can read our conversation here. Enjoy!!

Blushing like you wouldn't believe

Thu, 01 May 2008 11:44:00 GMT

If I imagined a fantasy review for my work, it would be Arthur Breur's, for Rainbow Reviews. He compares "Servant of the Seasons 1: Autumn" to the work of Ursula Leguin! Favorably! (And without apparent irony!)

Among other thoughtful comments by Mr. Breur: "The story is a masterful short work about a man's struggle for survival in a post-apocalyptic future."

I am humbled and grateful. Thank you, Arthur!

Read Arthur's review here.

After you do, you might be moved to give "Servant of the Seasons 1: Autumn" a spin, which you can do here.

Lee blushes

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 11:39:39 GMT

The delectable dakotaflint helped turn around a really cruddy week for me with a kind and thoughtful review of "Master of None: The Eight of Pentacles" over at Rainbow Reviews.

Among the many lovely, insightful things Dakota said was this, which made me smile: "The phrasing was, at times, more academic than I expected, but the chosen diction added to the story without sounding pedantic."

Seems Papi just can't Dom the academic outta me!

Anyway, you should check out the review here, and then maybe buy "Master of None" here.

Thank you, Dakota!!

"Master of None" reviewed by Paul Bens!

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 11:59:25 GMT

If I were bold enough to praise my own work, to present it to others as I intended it to be (rather than as it turned out), I could hardly have done myself a better turn than Paul G. Bens, Jr. (gwailowrite) did in his review for Uniquely Pleasurable.

I blushed and stammered my way through, and am grateful beyond measure.

Among other lovely things Paul said was this: "The result is a universality, a sense of timelessness, and a story that refuses to be boxed into any genre, yet never fights against any of them."

Thank you, Paul, for your hard work, for your elegant review, and for seeing my little tale down to its very soul!

Read the whole review here!

Buy "Master of None: The Eight of Pentacles" here.

Book Utopia reviews "Master of None"

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 22:23:06 GMT

The marvelous, mysterious B. over at Book Utopia has posted a generous and thoughtful review of "Master of None: Eight of Pentacles."

How could I be anything but delighted when she includes comments like this one?

"I really liked this story. Adiun was a wonderful protagonist, suitably flawed without feeling phony. I had little problem sinking into the fantasy world the author created, and even less difficulty following the myriad characters around. But what makes the story so good is Adiun and his sense of loss coloring his every move."

You can read the entire review here, and check out B.'s other reviews here.

And, if you're so inclined, you can spend the price of a cup of joe on "Master of None" here.

Cheers, and thanks, B.!

New Review

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 01:09:15 GMT

If I could write a big, fat historical novel as naturalistic, absorbing, and accessible as Ruth Sims' The Phoenix, I would.

Instead, I take it to bed with me, and write a review. The review is over at Uniquely Pleasurable.

Enjoy!!

New release

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 18:10:36 GMT

My new Arcana story was released yesterday. I'm excited (understatement) about this one. This tale began as a series of vignettes I wrote to amuse a dear friend while he recovered from an injury. They were my first attempt at writing fiction. Two years later, after some serious woodshedding, "Master of None" represents the Eight of Pentacles in Torquere's Arcana series.

"Master of None" is the story of a young man who's lost everything that matters, and who sets off into a changing world to reclaim his one true love. Along the way, our hero, Adiún, hooks up with a troupe of street perfomers who teach him that the world is much bigger than he ever imagined.

Read more about it, including the first section, here.

Buy it here.

Wanna read it for free? Head over here and enter the Apprenticeship Contest.

One of the exciting things about this story is that this is the first release of mine that's had a unique cover. Atta Vazzy has been getting a lot of buzz for her covers for this series, and I know I'm not alone among Tarot aficionadoes in my hope that the covers will someday be collected into a deck. Here's my cover:

"Autumn" favorably reviewed!!

Sat, 05 Apr 2008 18:02:22 GMT

The inestimable Ann Somerville, at Uniquely Pleasurable, has reviewed "Autumn," the first installment in my Chaser series, "Servant of the Seasons." And she liked it!

Among the other lovely things she had to say was this: "Lee Benoit has succeeded not only in creating a wonderfully well-researched ‘man against nature’ story but also in establishing an intriguing world and rounded characters which should carry the reader’s interest easily through the three further planned parts to this series."

Thank you, Ann!!

The rest of the review is here.

A description and excerpt of "Servant of the Seasons 1: Autumn" is here. Buy it here.

And, just because I love you, here's an excerpt that doesn't appear on the publisher's web site:

“I am called Edor.” It was the name I had used since leaving the dome, my professional title. Sometimes I wondered if I even recalled my true name.

“He is Lys. I am Tywyll.”

“We are Novigi.”

“That must be far.” I had never heard of it.

The one called Lys tilted his head. “Not … far. Brother?”

Tywyll nodded. “Distant, perhaps. Not far.”

“You’re brothers?” Poor things, to be whores so young.

“A way of saying, only,” said Tywyll. “Not blood, but still brothers, you see?”

Not really. My life before hadn’t bred close friendships and my life since, well, hadn’t merited them. “Come, you can wash while I fix supper. You’ve had a long walk.”

The two Novigi followed me to the lean-to that held the pump and kitchen. I supposed “kitchen” made the semi-permanent hearth sound rather grand. I stirred up the smoored coals and laid on more fuel; the local peat was free and burned hot, of not brightly or fragrantly. I kept my body and face turned away from where the two not-brothers had stripped to the waist and begun washing in the sun-warmed water from the pump; there was no privacy beyond simple courtesy.

I had rigged a hanging basket fed by a reed pipe connected to the cistern. If I couldn’t have a true bath, I had determined that I would at least have clean rinse-water. I hadn’t shown my guests how to use it, but they seemed to have figured it out, if their little exclamations of surprise were anything to judge by. After a few minutes, the happy sounds changed to hisses and muffled yelps of pain and I forgot their modesty.

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

Lys and Tywyll turned to look at me, their eyes slitted and their shoulders hunched to protect their bodies. They didn’t answer.

“Are you injured? Let me see.” If Varas had done something to them…. I took a step forward and the two closed ranks, Tywyll stepping in front of Lys and putting his hand out to stall my approach. Lys put a quelling hand on Tywyll’s arm and they had a rapid, quietly urgent conversation in a very foreign language. Tywyll drooped in defeat at the end of it and Lys stepped past him to stand before me, a defiant look in his bright eyes.

“These will not heal. There is pain.”

“What won’t…?” I began. Lys’s brown cheeks colored and he looked down his own body. I followed his glance to his nipples and would have continued, dangerously, but for what I saw there. One was brown as a late-summer berry, the other cruelly distended and swollen around a thick metal ring.

“Who did this?”

“No papers,” Lys’s voice was very soft. In a sick flash, I understood. This was the slaver’s mark, now the mark of my ownership.

“It should have healed by now. Varas … bought you” – I felt my gorge rise on the word – “over a month ago. It doesn’t look infected.”

Tywyll turned and revealed a similar injury. “This metal is poison. We are Novigi.”

I had heard of diseases that struck only members of certain races. Perhaps this was some sort of allergy peculiar to Lys and Tywyll’s people. “Then they must come out.”

Servant of the Seasons reviewed!

Thu, 03 Apr 2008 19:01:10 GMT

To my delight and surprise, a reader has reviewed the first installment of my new Chaser Series, "Servant of the Seasons."

Andrea gave my little post-apocalyptic sod-busting tale and said:

"Please chain the author to their computer until the next three books of the series are finished. Very seldom do I immediately reread a book as soon as I finish it, but this book merited it. As with all of Lee Benoit’s characters these three tug at your heart strings, get you caught up with their lives and have you cheering for them. I am eager and anxious to learn what happens next to 'the boys'."

Thank you, Andrea!! Consider me duly chained!

"Autumn" is available here and now from Torquere Press. "Winter," "Spring," and "Summer" will follow in May, July, and September.

Lee's Reading Rainbow, conclusion

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 18:22:54 GMT

As promised, here are lines that grabbed me from the last four tales in Another Fine Mess, the ones I didn't get to on the Torquere LJ yesterday.

One thing I loved about this anthology was that the stories are robust tales with interesting characters and imaginative plots, not thinly disguised smut-fests (not that smut fests are bad things, but the theme of this anthology just screamed "plot" to me).

And so, without further ado:

From "The Alpha Bet" by Cassidy Ryan

"Want to rethink that safe word?" Grey asked, arching one expressive eyebrow.

This line brilliantly distills the emotional tenor of both members of this established couple as they discover something unexpected about themselves and each other.

From "Unravel" by Mychael Black

Mister, I’d coat myself in powdered sugar and shove a lollipop up my ass if it would keep you doing that.

This bit of internal dialogue made me grin; it just focuses the character perfectly!

From "A Jolly Good Idea" by Syd McGinley

Hugh’s mother is polite – I may be American and gay and despoiling her one and only son, but I am a guest.

Ryan is so completely a stranger in a strange land; I loved this little epiphany about what he's gotten himself into. The setting and character relationships spin out beautifully from this insight.

And from "Bruised Knuckles and Bars" by Julia Talbot

And wasn't that a sight, Eli with his sweats down, cock bouncing as he ran around the kitchen with a fly swatter.

This established couple is intense and sexy; I appreciated the leavening of this ridiculous, comic moment.

Dragons behaving badly

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 11:44:46 GMT

As a youngster, I ate up stories about dragon slayers and dragon riders and the like. So when I heard the incomparable sydmcginley was editing an anthology about tricky predicaments, my imagination hopped into the wayback machine and brought me a story about dragons.

Sort of.

I wondered how a humble small town dog walker might cope with the sudden appearance of dragons.

The result was "Dragonwalker," and it appears in Syd's Another Fine Mess, out yesterday from Torquere Press.

cbpotts reviewed the ten-story anthology for the publisher, and had this to say: "Dragon Walker by Lee Benoit is surprising and complex. I thought I knew what was going to happen to naive-yet-very-sexy Endi, only to have what should have been a predictable love story turn into something very different -- and so much better!"

But you might want to judge for yourself, yes?

“Thank you, Endi. My name is David Espada. I thank you for your help.”

I walk Drake into the park and introduce him to Lomi, then go back to sit a spell.

“So,” I ask, “Drake is your guide dog?”

David laughs a little. “Drake washed out of guide dog training. The vet who ran the program asked me to take him on.”

“Are you a vet, too?”

“I was a psychologist, before this.” He waggles his fingers in front of his eyes. “I’ve been trying to train him to some basic commands, but he’s stubborn.”

“Oh,” I say. “I work with dogs, too. I walk them and train them and take them to the vet when people need me to. Things like that. The dogs are the clients, though. The people are more like, um, the dogs’ agents or appointment secretaries or something? Or maybe managers. They write the checks, but I work for the dogs. You know?”

“You’re an unusual young man, Endi.”

“How’d you know I’m young?”

“Your voice has a lightness to it that I associate with youth. And the content of your conversation is….”

“I know,” I interrupt. “Butch says I’m a chatterbox. But it’s only when I’m nervous or excited.”

“I see,” David says. “Is this Butch one of your clients?”

I laugh out loud, then I worry that he’ll think I’m laughing at him instead of what he said, so I stop. “Butch is my boyfriend. A dog would never have told me I’m a chatterbox.”

“No?”

“Only because dogs don’t talk.”

“I see,” he says.

“You say that a lot,” I say. “You know, for a blind guy.” Immediately I feel stupid, and glad David can’t see my blush.

“I could say something deep about there being many ways of seeing, young Endi. But right now I’d like to ‘see’ the inside of a coffee shop. Will you join me for a cup of something?”

My 1000 words worth

Fri, 29 Feb 2008 05:22:47 GMT

Well, it's after midnight in my time zone, so technically I've failed to complete the picfor10002008 "Picture is worth 1000 words" challenge.

But I enjoyed the challenge of writing EXACTLY 1000 words in response to a picture prompt, so I thought I'd share the result here.

It's called "Lavatory Luxor" and I'm dedicating it to my dear papi, who said a little visit with Paulo (from my stories "Heard on High" and "Epiphany: Shining Through") might lift his spirits. Besos, papi!

Lavatory Luxor

Paulo stripped off the yellow rubber gloves and flung them into the sink, satisfied nothing remained in the kitchen that he hadn’t scrubbed silly. He stalked to the den where Jim was watching South Pacific, singing along. Loudly.

“Must you?” Paulo grumbled.

Jim tilted his head to look at Paulo, mischief in his eyes. “Don’t you think I sound like Giorgio Tozzi? I mean, when I really get going?”

Paulo tolerated all of two seconds of Jim’s “You may see a stranger” before he stumped out of the room.

“Hey, man!” Jim called. “C’mon! In the old days that would have earned me at least a smack with a pillow. Maybe even a nice sweaty rassle.”

Jim, infuriatingly, followed Paulo down the hall to the lavette. Paulo snapped on his blue bathroom-cleaning gloves and glared at Jim, who was casually blocking the door.

“Since meeting Preston you never play with me. I may have to pout,” Jim warned. “Disenchanted evening, I lost my fuck buddy, I lost my fuck buddy, when he bottomed for my Dom.”

With nothing to clean in the spotless bathroom, and with no escape until he heard Jim out, Paulo gave Jim his back while he rearranged the toilet paper rolls from their double row of three to a three-tiered pyramid on the ancient, rusted radiator.

It was time to defend himself. “I only had one scene with Master Rose,” he began, and Jim snorted. He soldiered on. “It wasn’t not even an authentic one, just a stage show,” he finished lamely. It had felt like more.

Jim snorted again, more emphatically this time, and Paulo had to restrain himself from passing over a length of tissue. “Sounded pretty fucking real from what Tasim told me,” he said. “Preston never did my aftercare.”

The memory of Preston doing that, caring for him, after their show was more vivid to Paulo than the fuck they’d shared on stage. Desperate for a distraction from his thoughts, he tried to balance the t.p. into an inverted pyramid. The rolls kept slipping off the grooved coils of the radiator.

“Man up, buddy.” Paulo hated Jim in bluff bloke mode. “You’ve been moping ever since you filled in for me, and that was almost a month ago.”

“I’m not moping.” At Jim’s cocked eyebrow, he added, “And what the hell am I supposed to do, anyway?”

“Something besides clean this place back to the lathing. Dude, just fucking call him.” Callow-frat-boy Jim was worse than matey Jim.

Paulo tried for the inverted pyramid again. “You know I can’t.”

Slaves to gravity, the paper rolls teetered, fell, and bounced and rolled around the gleaming floor. Defeated, Paulo retrieved them and set them back into their upright pyramid.

Realizing Jim hadn’t responded, Paulo narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Preemptive strike: “If he calls me, great, but he made it pretty clear the next move would be up to him. Even if it’s no move at all.”

“Have it your way, but you know what the great Tozzi said.”

“No, I don’t.”

Jim opened his mouth.

“And I don’t want to.”

With a mulish look, Jim spun away from the bathroom door, singing, “Who can explain it? Who can tell you why?” Grateful for the end of yet another uncomfortable conversation, Paulo stripped off his bathroom-cleaning gloves and set off to find a closet to reorganize or some drapes to vacuum.

Passing the den, he heard Jim finishing a phone call. “Yes, Sir, right away.”

Frozen in the doorway, Paulo tried to glower but feared it came off more hopelessly hopeful.

“Wash that latex smell off your hands, and go over there.” Paulo forbore to comment on Jim’s triumphant smirk, and decamped before he’d have to listen to Jim’s Nellie Forbush impersonation.

The bus took forever, or at least long enough for Paulo to run through and reject about six thousand ways of greeting Master Rose, of presenting himself.

Faced with a completely ordinary door on a completely ordinary street awash in weak winter afternoon light, he abandoned his favorite fantasy, the one in which he stripped right there on the stoop and knelt before knocking. So what if it was cliché? It would make an impression.

Instead, he left his clothes on and knocked with his mittened knuckles.

He had enough time before the door opened to hum almost a whole verse of “Some Enchanted Evening.” He was going to have to kill Jim, slowly.

Later.

Because the door was opening.

Preston Rose stood in the open door looking decidedly un-Dommy in Carhartts and a t-shirt. Paulo dropped his eyes. Master Rose was barefoot. Master Rose had beautiful, long feet streaked with fine dark hairs.

Paulo’s stomach clenched and rolled, just like it used to when he had to spot Frankie Rodericks for sit-ups in gym. Just like when he asked Peter Ahearn to prom. Just like the first time he’d seen Master Rose, on stage, working Jim over with expert detachment.

“Paulo,” Master Rose said, quietly. There was a question in it.

Paulo’s stomach squirmed. “I’m really sorry, Sir. May I use your bathroom?”

Concern and amusement flickered across Master Rose’s face as he pointed down a hallway.

Paulo didn’t run, not quite. He chanted the end of Hammerstein’s song in his mind as he cleared the bathroom door and tried to breathe past the sick feeling. “Once he has called you, don’t puke on his floor. Once he has called you, don’t puke on his floor.”

He would never admit it to Jim, but the song made him feel better. He was where he’d wanted to be more than anywhere except conservatory. He would not fuck this up with nerves.

Paulo was reduced to cabinet-snooping in search of a cup and washcloth.

His nausea became surprised laughter when he opened the under-sink cabinet. Inside squatted a neat pyramid of six rolls of toilet paper.

He still hadn’t found a washcloth, but he had, he was certain, found what he was looking for.

Cheers,
Lee

New Review

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 12:16:19 GMT

I've got a new review up over at Speak Its Name. This one is of William Maltese and Wayne Gunn's Ardennian Boy, which retells the story of the turbulent love affair between Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine. It's a gritty, challenging read, but as you'll see in the review, worth your time and attention.

One of the best things about the book, for me, was the poems, both Rimbaud's and Verlaine's, which are woven very organically - very organically indeed! - through the narrative. I'll confess I'm not the first person to pick up a book of poetry when reading for pleasure, so believe me when I say that Gunn's translations, and the way they're deployed in the novel, gave me a reading experience I might not otherwise have sought out, and by which I feel enriched.

Cheers,
Lee

P.S. My thanks to sydmcginley and rhyssd for beta-reading the review. You wouldn't think a little ol' book review would need two betas, but this one did!

New Review

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 03:13:33 GMT

Hi all, it's been a while since I was active here. Blame a combination of viruses, day job, malaise, and writer's block. If I've failed to respond to your message or comment, please know that it's not for lack of interest, but for lack of other, less renewable, resources.

Perhaps this review will herald my return to full(er) capacity.

Ann Somerville describes her novella Going Down like this:
Derzo Einan wanted to help people, and for fifteen years he rescued others from fires, floods and natural disasters. But in the aftermath of a horrific event, he’s left unable to help anyone, not even himself, his gift of empathy now more of a curse and his career in tatters. Running from his demons, Einan finds refuge in a big city, discovering an underclass of helpless hopeless people even worse off than himself—and another soul as troubled and damaged as him. In saving one more person, will he find his own salvation?

So much m/m fiction I run across is plotless smut (which has its place, mind you), that it’s a delight to find a tale with a solid plot and characters that also sounds resonant notes of male-male emotional connections without resorting to stroke-fiction devices. Smutless plot, if you will.

Going Down is set in Ann Somerville’s Periter universe, a highly original, imaginatively realized world in which some folks have powers of telekinesis or empathy (one of the joys of the Periter stories is reading Somerville’s treatment of such powers through a variety of historical periods and cultural settings within the larger universe). Readers new to Periter might be well served by a short visit to Somerville’s web site, which includes an introduction to the setting and its history.

Einan is a fascinating character, damaged but not angsty, a slightly unreliable narrator but wholly reliable friend, self-pitying without being self-absorbed. After losing most of what’s important to him, and victim to his erratic paranormal empathy, he’s fetched up in the starkly-drawn city of Kundo, hoping for little more than relief from his nightmares. He’s crafted a tightly circumscribed life for himself, consisting of a modest job, a roof over his head, and the occasional necessary contact with others his empathy requires. If he uses narcotic and alcoholic means to dampen his memories and quiet his power, well, that’s no one’s business but his own.

Einan’s life of quiet desperation is challenged by his meeting with Troe Thalem, a temple volunteer of little faith and great guilt. While Einan lost his former life to events beyond his control, Thalem dealt his away with one moment’s loss of control, a catastrophic mistake for which he has pledged his life to atone, and for which he stubbornly rejects absolution. If Einan can’t imagine getting any better, Thalem can’t imagine being any worse, and it is this fundamental ontological difference that drives the plot, their relationship, and the conflict that resolves into a pure, clear note of hope at the bittersweet end of the tale.

Through misunderstandings fraught with mistrust, through settings including Einan’s rough diner workplace and the slums of Kundo where Thalem’s seeks expiation and the temple to a god neither believes in, Somerville gives us a story in which atonement may not bring absolution and suffering doesn’t purify. For all its quiet, deliberate tone, this is a gritty tale about damage that may never heal. Somerville’s dialogue, where the principal characters are concerned, is pitch-perfect: terse and wary at first, increasingly more open, until the deeply satisfying final conversation between Einan and Thalem. By the end of Going Down, the muted desire they have come to feel for each other is one element (rather than the sum total) of the hope they have learned to reclaim through each other’s friendship. Fans of HEA-oriented romance will be frustrated; the rest of us may nod and smile sadly: yes, this is how real life works, if we’re lucky.

The author, wisely, leavens her story with somewhat sunnier characters. By comparison with the complex and expertly faceted Einan and Thalem, the secondary characters tend to sound one note throughout, though it would be going too far to say they’re one-dimensional. Lano is the salt of the earth telepathic restauranteur, Sister Hikeri is the wise, kind temple priestess, and Dr. Pielan is the cranky, driven specialist who undertakes Einan’s treatment for a condition he may or may not have. Each of these has an important role to play in the resolution of the story’s central conflicts and in providing the background music to Einan and Thalem’s cautious dance of friendship, desire, and, ultimately, hope. In this way the secondaries act as a kind of Greek chorus, and if they’re less than compelling in their own rights, they do serve their purpose, all the while throwing the primary characters into more vivid relief.

The climax of the story, cathartic though it is for both characters, occurs amidst a flurry of action and interference from minor characters that I found unwelcome, no matter how necessary it might have been for the narrative. Still, this sudden change in tone and tempo did little to dampen my appreciation of the story, its characters, and Ann Somerville’s writing.

I read this story with relish and deep admiration. It's a story of the healing power of perseverance and friendship. It's not mushy, or sexy, or sentimental, but it kept me reading, resenting every blink of my eyes. When I finished reading, I scrolled right back to the beginning and read it again.

You should know that the proceeds from Going Down are going to Medecins Sans Frontieres, one of the best, smartest humanitarian agencies going. Kudos to Ann Somerville for this decision!

Buy it from Lulu.