A warm welcome to author Julie Lynn Hayes joining us today to talk about new release “No Way Out”.
Welcome Julie Lynn 🙂
Good morning, and thanks to Dani at Love Bytes Reviews for having me on her blog! I have a new book coming out with Dreamspinner this month. No Way Out is my first foray into the world of BDSM.
Who do you Write for, and Why?
When an author begins a story, they can’t help but wonder who will read it? Hopefully, many people, of course. We write because we enjoy it, and we want many people to enjoy what we write. But sometimes the question is asked—who are you writing for? That isn’t the same question at all. In fact, I think it’s more closely related to why do you write than you might think.
For the sake of this discussion, let’s divide the literary world in two. There’s the mainstream, and then there’s the world of m/m romance. M/m romance can be considered a niche, because it’s not as generalized as mainstream, although mainstream is often divided into genres too. But m/m romance is a very specific niche, and it has many readers, a lot of whom are women.
With any romance, whether it involves two men, two women, or a man and a woman, the question of sex is bound to arise at some point. Will there be sex between the protagonists, and if there is, will it be explicit, or will it fade to black? Different people have different tastes. Do you write for the majority, or the few, so as not to offend those who don’t like to see the sex scenes written out in full? Perhaps they like to leave that part to their imagination, or perhaps some of the language involved makes them uncomfortable. Others like seeing every move made, in “living color”, so to speak.
My new novel, No Way Out, involves BDSM, which is a subject that can make some people uncomfortable, while others embrace it wholeheartedly. It too can be very explicit or more implied than spelled out. In my case, I think my book contains a lot less than some others, but more than some, so perhaps it fits into the middle. When it comes to something like BDSM there is another question, that of dubious consent, which can be rather controversial. Dubious consent arises between a couple when one person wants the other to do something, usually sexual, that the other is uncomfortable with but the first person does it anyway on the grounds that they will end up together so everything between them is okay. There is a very fine line between dubious consent and rape to many people. Japanese manga use this device often, and it seems to be acceptable in that context. But when it comes to romance novels written outside of Japan, this does not translate as well with readers.
Another part of the question of what to write is a matter of which genre to select, even within the m/m field. Contemporary romance? Mystery? BDSM? Paranormal? So many choices, but which is right for you? Sometimes one genre sells better than another, because of a popular series. If you follow the trend and write in that genre, are you just going along with the crowd in order to sell? Does that make you a copycat? Wouldn’t it be better to write something original?
Some writers do base their choices on what sells, rather than what they want to write. Personally, I don’t understand this. This negates the whole idea of writing what you feel, in my opinion. Which doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy writing something you think will be popular. But what often happens is that the followers of this trend are perceived as copycats trying to recreate the original in order to cash in on its popularity.
On the other hand, if you write something that is actually close to your heart, your writing will sing because you have put yourself into it, heart and soul. Your characters will feel more real, and your readers will care more about what happens to them.
Ultimately a question of who you write for and what you write is a personal decision every author makes. Writing is a very competitive field, and with e-publishing and self-publishing, it has attracted more writers than ever before. Writing skill is no longer the deciding factor when it comes to success, sometimes it’s simple availability. And sometimes it’s a popularity contest. Sometimes it’s sheer luck. That doesn’t make the more successful writer a better writer necessarily. Success, after all, is in the eye of the beholder. To some people, being published is a success in itself. I think every writer should write what makes them happy, regardless of how well it sells.
Can you think of any books you read that you think were written for the money? How do you feel about writers and their motivations? Does it matter to you? I’d like to know what you think!
Thanks again, Dani, for hosting me!
Blurb
Wyatt Findley is an up-and-coming artist, attending a prestigious art institute in St. Louis. His mentor, Lukas Callahan, has snagged a sweet house-sitting job for him in a gorgeous home in a well-to-do part of town. Wyatt notices two men who live just across the street. They make an odd couple, since there must be a good twenty years difference between them. And yet there is something about the younger man that calls to Wyatt
Shylor Lind has been living with Randy Grant for fifteen years, ever since Grant hired Shy’s mother as his live-in housekeeper. But five years ago, their relationship changed when Shy’s mother sold him to Grant and took the money and ran. Since then, Randy has been training Shy in how to be his submissive, dominating him in every way. There is nothing Shy can do about the situation, and he has nowhere to go, no one to turn to.
And then Wyatt enters his life… and nothing will ever be the same, as Wyatt engages in a battle for Shy’s very soul.
The author is donating 10% of the royalties from this book to No Kid Hungry. Visit nokidhungry.org for more information about this organization.
Buy link
THE SILVER rims gleamed. The afternoon sun bounced off the highly polished surface, directly into Shylor’s eyes. He never flinched, never showed his discomfort in any way. The muscles in his arms ached, and his shoulders threatened to spasm if they didn’t receive a little relief from the relentless effort he’d been expending all morning.
But Shylor refused to give up. Failure was not an option with him. Failure came with its own consequences, and not of the pleasant variety. Was there a pleasant variety anymore? If so, that was so long ago he’d forgotten how good it might have felt. At the moment, all he could focus on was the potential for pain. The possibility of being reprimanded. And damned if he was going to let that happen. Especially over something as trivial as how he washed Randy’s expensive set of wheels.
He wasn’t aware he’d stopped moving until a cold voice from behind prompted him. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.” Icy fingers traveled down Shylor’s spine—or what passed for one. He would have been hard put to find that anymore. Zoologically speaking, he could probably be classified as an invertebrate, something belonging to the order of cowards. Was there a special species known as weaklings? If so, he must rank somewhere pretty high among them, he figured.
He never turned, never acknowledged the rebuke. He knew it wasn’t expected of him. He also knew what he would see, should he do so. Randy Grant. Six foot, silver hair that matched his expensive luxury sedan. Eyes of a changeable gray that reflected his mood and his pleasure. Sometimes they were tranquil seas that seemed almost an icy blue, and at those times Shylor could almost… but not quite… believe that Randy cared about him.
It was the other times, when the gray turned into dark and turbulent clouds, that Shylor knew he was in for a world of pain, and at those times there was nothing he could do to ameliorate the situation. All he could do was grit his teeth and bear it, wait for the storm to pass.
Randy Grant was forty years old, twice Shylor’s age. To the business world, he presented the image of a successful entrepreneur as the founder and driving force behind one of the city’s most creative marketing agencies: Granting Your Wishes. They called him the Silver Fox, because of his prematurely gray hair, but on Randy it looked good. He had a smile that charmed the pants off everyone he met—figuratively and literally. And he had a body to die for. Well, he should—he worked very hard at maintaining it. Having the money for an expensive personal gym couldn’t hurt anyone, and neither did having a personal trainer who supervised his exercise regime and a dietician who made sure he ate very well and very healthy. Shylor wasn’t fooled, though. Randy controlled every move. He knew exactly what he was doing every step of the way, and he reveled in his control.
Inside the bedroom and out.
Shylor’s labors were exacerbated in no small way by the presence of a foreign object nestled inside of him. He felt it whenever he moved, pressed against his channel, a constant reminder of Randy’s dominance. Purple and ridged, the butt plug was designed to remind Shylor just who he belonged to, and what purpose he served in the scheme of things, even as it prepared him to be plowed later, at Randy’s whim.
He supposed it could have been worse. At least Randy hadn’t demanded he wear the one with the wolf tail. That one was a specialty item, particularly popular with fetishists and furries. Randy was among the latter. He’d had costumes specially made for both of them, and had devised elaborate scenarios for their use. Cosplay at its kinkiest.
Shylor had never met anyone like Randy. He had mesmerized him from the beginning, drawn Shy into his world, and into his bed. And now he was locked there, for all eternity.
After the things he’d done, who else could possibly want Shylor? Randy had made him untouchable as far as other men were concerned. Shy no longer had a choice in the matter. If he ever had. Randy had been the first, and if he had his way, he would be Shy’s last.
If Randy was pleased with the way Shylor washed his car, then later he would reap a reward. Namely, by being fucked with some modicum of consideration for his own pleasure. But if not, then it would be the kowtow-to-Randy show all the way, with no regard to Shylor’s well-being or safety.
Although Shylor had a safeword, there were times when it was simply disregarded. And sometimes he forgot to use it, thinking why bother? There was no safety—there was only Randy and what he wanted. Nothing else mattered.
The sound of an engine drew his faltering attention to the street. Without thinking, Shy turned his head. They lived on a high-end cul-de-sac, and passing traffic was rare. Was he dreaming, or was that really a police car? Shy’s heart beat faster. For just a moment, he felt his liberation was at hand. Perhaps someone had noticed… someone had made a call… someone cared….
He searched for a sign that the officer behind the wheel was seeking him, Shylor. The policeman never turned his head. All he could see of him was his profile. How strong he looked… how protective. Was he going to stop, pull into the driveway?
But no, the car reached the end of the street and traversed the circular turnaround. Heading back in the other direction, it quickly disappeared from view.
Only then did Shy realize what he’d done. He stiffened, bracing himself for the inevitable. He didn’t know what form his punishment would take—retribution came in many forms, and Shy was familiar with them all.
His heart pounded, his breath coming in short gasps in anticipation.
Just do it. Get it over with. Please….
He felt Randy move closer, waited for the pain.
An unexpected shadow fell across the sedan, coming from the wrong direction. From the street, not behind him.
Shy looked up in confusion.
“Is something wrong?”
Julie Lynn Hayes lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah, who is a grad student at the University of Illinois. She first began to write over fifty years ago, and doesn’t see that stopping anytime soon. She likes to write in different genres, to stretch herself in order to see what is possible. When someone tells her something can’t be done, she feels compelled to do it. Much of her writing is in the m/m romance category.
When she isn’t writing, or working at her day job with a third party elevator inspection company, she enjoys crafts, such as cross stitch and crochet, and watching her favorite programs. Her favorite chef is Geoffrey Zakarian, and her favorite historical character is Aaron Burr—she is obsessed with all things Hamilton! Never say never is her motto!