Hey peeps, look who we got visiting us today… the amazing Dan Skinner!! Dan has brought along his newest release The Price of Dick, he’s letting us have a sneak peek at some excerpts *wink*, Dan answers some questions and he’s also having a giveaway. So guys enjoy our post and my review and then leave a comment to win *cough* I might have also slipped some of Dan’s amazing photograph’s in that I magically found 😉 <3 ~Pixie~
The Price of Dick
His name is Richard but he’ll say, “Call me Dick.” He’s a big, butch, brainy guy in an executive suit, hotter than spit on a skillet. The type of guy you can see fully dressed and imagine buck naked in the throes of an orgasm – every six-feet-two, muscular, sexually intoxicating inch of him. He’s an ambitious freshman in a prominent brokerage firm who’s figured out he can use more than his smarts to get ahead. He’s perfected a surefire method to drive home a hard deal. No one can resist him. And he’s got one really big secret. But that will cost you.
For photographer J.J. Johnstone, the price of Dick just might cost him everything.
He began by telling me how much he admired me. That’s always a good opener if getting someone’s attention is your goal. He liked that I was my own man; that I could be myself without worrying what others thought of me, and said that made me seem very strong in his eyes. I was liking me better and better the more he talked. It didn’t hurt that every time I looked at him I had some kind of teenage-like hormonal surge. Amazing how a confluence of praise and lust can just make your defensive barriers collapse like Jell-O on a hot stove.
I asked him what was wrong. People who tell you they need space usually want you to invade it and ask what’s wrong. Otherwise they wouldn’t have invaded your space. And I ain’t going to lie. When he started rambling on with the redundant details of his job and how he was struggling to get ahead, I was still picturing that one night in my bed, pushing my aching dick through the crack of his ass, laying quarter-sized pearlescent droplets of myself all over those flawless mounds. I wanted to bite those muscled buns while he was telling me his problems. Oink.
I could tell there was something more; something deeper going on with him and he was having difficulty spitting it out. I asked him to grab a beer for both of us. That seemed to be exactly what he wanted to hear. We sat, and cracked beers together. He took off his jacket and tie, unbuttoned his shirt and gazed off into the corner.
It was nothing I didn’t expect. Mommy. He faced the same dilemma every night at the dinner table, every morning over breakfast before his mandatory appearance at Mass. He was coming unglued having to deal with her every day. The only reprieve was when he was at work, when she wasn’t calling him there. He rubbed his eyes as if there were tears there. I didn’t actually see any, but the idea of it was oddly endearing.
With a mixture of fascination and dread, I had a feeling I knew where he was headed.
“You’re absolutely the only person I have to talk to. My friends wouldn’t understand some things about me. I can’t talk to anyone at work. You’re the only guy I feel safe to tell my feelings to.”
Yep. Knew where this was heading.
“I don’t know how to ask this but I haven’t got anyone else to go to, and I was wondering if I could stay with you? Live with you for a while. Be a roommate.” he looked at me, his face all knotting like he was still near tears. “I can sleep on the couch. I don’t have many clothes. I’d never bring anyone back. I can help pay the utilities…I can help you with your shoots…”
I almost had my denial figured out before he uttered that last sentence, and then the wheels in my brain went spinning out like I was a NASCAR driver. It pushed everything else right out of my head. A hot, good-looking guy living in my apartment willing to help me with my shoots. I could have someone available any time for any shoot just by turning around and saying… “Hey there!” His face didn’t have to be in any of them if he didn’t want. A million covers were nothing but torsos. And he had one helluva torso.
It was a matter of weighing the conveniences against the inconveniences of two grown men living in a two-bedroom apartment where one bedroom was used as a studio/office. One bathroom.
And there was another thing. After my last relationship, I vowed to live alone because I just liked the freedom of it. A lot of thoughts went racing on perpetual left turns through my mind. Don’t think I wasn’t thinking of the possibility of a few more drunk sucks or even fucks with him if he became a roommate. Everyone was teachable.
So I said the words that would change pretty much everything about my life for a long, long time.
I had a roommate.
So there I was, quickly regressing to puberty, sitting in a sauna with the object of my lust. Looking at his thick muscular legs, broad shoulders and other weight-developed bulges properly bulging and glistening with a sheen of hot sweat, I wanted to eat him alive. We soon exited the sauna together.
Unburdening myself of common sense was an easy task standing in the shower with him. Every inch of his make-me-growl masculinity, covered in blond fur, ass like two ripe honeydews just daring me not to look when he turned his back. I caught a quick glimpse of that gloriously long, circumcised, purple-capped cock and balls hanging between his legs under an unpruned patch of dark pubes. I remember thinking I hadn’t ever bought that much meat in a delicatessen but I still bet I could eat it all in one sitting. It took every bit of restraint I possessed to not pop wood in that shower. The mating dance was an endurance test. Think tearing down the Washington Monument using only your mind.
He invited me out for a drink this time, and we drove to Houlihan’s again. It was a Friday and the line out the door consisted of families with brats and people with an hour to waste after work. I suggested we get a six-pack and go to my apartment, which luckily, was only three blocks away, with a liquor store right on the way.
I’m sure it wasn’t in his mind, but it was in mine that this was a hookup. And I’d like to think he wasn’t completely naive about my intentions. I was in testosterone hyper-drive. I got him to my apartment and we drank and talked like good ole buds. He was comfortable telling me about his recent college life, the break up with the girl of his dreams who left him for another man because she had cheated on him and was pregnant. His heartbreak. All the things I couldn’t have cared less about—good riddance to anything that would have been competition anyway. Dick got into his high school days of playing football and wrestling, and I sat there picturing that mass of muscled man-ass crammed into a singlet, me trying to pin him on a mat with my head pressed deep into a musk-reeking ass crack.
He was a frat boy. I should have guessed. They all had a certain look to them. And his frat brothers were his best friends in the world and meant everything to him. He missed their daily camaraderie. I wondered if he’d jacked off with any of them. Used the fraternity paddle in an un-fraternity-like manner. You’ve seen the porn. Don’t tell me your mind didn’t go there.
It was a disappointingly platonic get-together, like any dull straight boys could have had, but I learned a lot about him. How many couples fuck on a first date anyway, right? I consoled myself with that lame excuse. Shame on me—I should have paid close attention to the story he shared with me that night. While in his freshman year of college, his parents tried to surprise him with a friendly unannounced visit. Lo and behold, in his dorm room a snooping mother had found a used condom in his wastebasket. She collapsed into pious, Catholic tears and left before he got back to his room. A few days later she sent him a two page, single-spaced, typewritten letter preaching to him about the Catholic stand on premarital sex, and especially condemning the use of that horrendous tool of the devil, the seed-killing prophylactic. Don’t worry. Those facetious words weren’t hers. I paraphrased. This boy was more browbeaten by mommy than Norman Bates.
Didn’t matter to me that he was a mommy’s boy. He could have been wearing prison orange and had the tattooed tear of a brazen killer on his cheek and it wouldn’t have stopped me wanting him. That he was double-fisted clutching onto his “I’m so straight” persona with his stories, I found cute because I was reading something different in body language and eye contact. He was in my company for a reason. I thought he was just a bit backward about the how-tos of getting naked with another dude. I’d get him there…eventually. I felt it in my bones. One in particular.
So our little beer-drinking, life-sharing, guy get-together ended with him thanking me for a nice evening and shaking my hand at the door.
In my head I fucked that butt so hard I made myself cry.
Dan Skinner answers some questions
Rumor has it that The Price of Dick is a completely different type of book than your first one, Memorizing You. What would you say are the main differences?
Pretty much everything. M.Y. was a sweet, chaste coming of age story. Dick is more current, definitely a hell of a lot more graphic, and deals with a subject matter that affects all of us across the board, straight or gay, male or female. What would we do to put some excitement in our lives; what kind of risks are we willing to take and are we really prepared to pay the price for the thrill we seek? We’ve all seen one person who has made us say, “I’d sell my soul to..”
You are a fan of probing questions that allow only one word answers. Describe your title character “Dick” in one word.
How do you choose what music to play during a shoot?
The models all bear with me playing the new Gary Numan stuff, but when I turn my back they put their own stuff on.
Are many of the models who come to you couples already?
Many of them are. If they aren’t, they usually are well on their way by the time they leave.
Do some of them become couples after they meet at shoots?
Yep. They send me their damned phone pics of everything they do together afterwards. I could make family albums of my matchmaking.
Where do you find your models?
Most of them find me now. My work is pretty well known and they will contact me via my FB page or my galleries. Some models will bring others and introduce them that way as well. I’ve recruited some myself, but not as much lately.
What do you find beautiful in a man?
That has changed so much over the years. And I think that’s part of what Dick is about. How we evolve in our perception of beauty. Sometimes that gorgeous exterior can hide a monster underneath. So now I listen to someone. You can tell so much about another human being by just the way they talk and the words they use. Words can guide you to a beautiful soul so much faster than our eyes.
How much of you is in J.J. Johnstone?
I plead the fifth. Truthfully, except for the age… I am he, he is me, we are a happy family.
What age where you when you realized you wanted to be a photographer?
Early. Seventeen I think.
How long did it take for your first book idea to actually become a book?
The first one was Cover Boy. Had the idea in my head for a while if I recall. I can’t even remember how long at this point.
You got your start doing M/F romance covers. Do you still do those kinds of shoots?
I still do those shoots for couples but not for covers.
Are you constantly scouting new locations or do you just “find” them?
I discover things by accident all the time. One of the shoots where you see the models in a creek, we were simply talking and walking at a location, got lost, and found the creek location.
Is there one location that you use regularly?
Sure. There is a farm nearby that I just love as a backdrop. I go there quite a bit during each season.
Do you have a favorite model?
I don’t choose favorites, but I do like each model for certain specific things.
What do you find is the most comfortable method when going over and over your manuscript over and over making sure it is as perfect as you can get it?
I have a buddy who reads everything I write and we actually read it aloud to see how it sounds. I have an ear for what I call the cadence of words. If the rhythm sounds natural then it’s what I like. My rule of thumb is: if you have to take a breath to finish the sentence, it’s too long.
Do you start writing out longhand?
Always longhand first. It’s a pain in the ass, but it’s the way I work.
Are you a plotter or a pantser?
I’m old style. I plot everything out to the nth degree.
Do you listen to music when you write and if so, what?
Always listen to music. It depends on what kind of scene. All through Memorizing You, I listened to Zero Project the group I used for the video trailer. On Dick I put on a lot of Enigma because there are quite a few erotic scenes and their music is suited for that.
Where can readers find you on the internet?
facebook D.W. Skinner
I’d already been in the photography business for too many years to count, shooting covers for hetero romance covers when I had my epiphany (ten years ago now) to shoot gay book covers and make them as acceptable and mainstream as the hetero ones. It was a big risk and I was told by many people, especially people who advised me financially, that it might not be a profitable thing to do, and could quite possibly ruin my reputation. But I was tired of seeing the proliferation of covers featuring a man and woman, the cologne and perfume ads featuring a man and a woman… every ad under the sun – only featuring a man and a woman, and knowing that only one side of life was being spoon fed to us by the media as the acceptable aspiration and ideal. In fact, it made me angry and crazy, and determined to do something about it. We were here… didn’t anyone see us?!!
I had several things working against me. The m/m fiction genre was just beginning to come into its own, but television and the entertainment industry were slowly allowing us into their vision as folks who existed right alongside them, and I knew the flux and flow of gay literature was going to eventually change. Will and Grace helped that. Brokeback Mountain helped that. So I had hope and crossed my fingers that I made a good choice as well as a conscientious one.
Along with that, I had to find guys daring enough to pose with each other in photos mimicking the same love and adoration as was seen in every Harlequin cover since time immemorial… They had to embrace and kiss and portray romance… between two people of the same gender. So finding the guys was going to be a chore… and finding guys in the Bible belt of the country, the Midwest, was going to be even tougher. But I did it.
Revenge is mine… the dbag’s bed has been christened by the models during a shoot!!
Skinner Quotes #5
How does this keep happening with these quizzes I take? I’m a nice guy… really I am… and if anyone says anything different I have duct tape, plastic bags and a chainsaw to deal with that crap!
Up and Atem! Time to ASPIRE HIGHER!!
Remember, kindness should be an instinct… not a decision… Spread the joy!
Those kit-kat commercials make me want to throw a shoe through the television. Who, in their right mind, thought super-magnifying the sound of people chomping into a crunchy candy bar would make ANYONE want one?
So I didn’t think I had enough light in my room and I took the shade off my light… now I feel like either performing Hamlet or confessing to Sandusky’s crimes.
Dan would love to give one lucky reader the chance to win an e-copy of The Price of Dick
Just leave a comment and one lucky reader will be randomly picked.
(Ends 4th June 2014)
Author: Dan Skinner
Length: Novel (291pgs)
Publisher: Cerberus Inc (22nd May 2014)
Heat Level: Moderate – Explicit
Heart Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥ 4 ½ Hearts
Blurb: His name is Richard but he’ll say, “Call me Dick.” He’s a big, butch, brainy guy in an executive suit, hotter than spit on a skillet. The type of guy you can see fully dressed and imagine buck naked in the throes of an orgasm – every six-feet-two, muscular, sexually intoxicating inch of him. He’s an ambitious freshman in a prominent brokerage firm who’s figured out he can use more than his smarts to get ahead. He’s perfected a surefire method to drive home a hard deal. No one can resist him. And he’s got one really big secret. But that will cost you.
For photographer J.J. Johnstone, the price of Dick just might cost him everything.
Purchase Link: US: http://www.amazon.com/The-Price-Dick-Dan-Skinner-ebook/dp/B00KIT5RKQ
Review: J.J. Johnson is dragged back into the closet when he approaches the sexy young man in the gym, what follows are years of exquisite pleasure and soul-wrenching pain as J.J. falls for an ambitious broker who will do anything for his own gain. His name is Richard and he is a dick, a warning should have been sent out to all decent human beings to run like hell if they ever come across him before they are sucked into his selfish little world and are left with scars when he discards them, J.J. never got the memo and we join him as he reflects on the price he paid.
The Price of Dick is a brilliant story that gives us an up close and personal experience with a narcissistic closeted con man and a photographer who falls under his spell. J.J. is the photographer who gets pulled into Dick’s closeted world, Dick somehow manages to wrap J.J. around his little finger, keeping J.J. on his invisible leash until J.J. is no longer willing to dance to his tune and then the claws come out and J.J. has to salvage the bits of his life that Dick had his claws in.
Well I have to say that this book is a riveting read, I couldn’t manage to put it down as I watched Dick subtlety wrap an enraptured J.J. into being a doormat, a safe haven and finally a victim. J.J. isn’t really the type of man that you would have thought could be led down the path back into the closet but he is masterfully manipulated and even as he begins to doubt Dick something keeps him hanging in there… each time J.J. begins to pull on the leash Dick dangles a new carrot in front of him. Dick is a loathsome character but hides it all beneath a veneer of charm and subtle manipulation; he plays on J.J’s weaknesses and takes advantage of his early infatuation to get what he wants. J.J. is amazing as a man who falls under Dick’s spell, we have all met someone who is so enthralled with someone that they become a doormat, who makes excuses and ignores all the signs and we have all warned them about the hurt they are heading for… and J.J. is perfectly shown as that friend, as the person who is drawn down that path and he is written perfectly.
I loved how this story was written, it is told after all the events have happened and J.J. doesn’t pull any punches or try to make himself look better or try to make us feel sorry for him… this is a story that is a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, you won’t be able to stop your reactions as you grit your teeth and silently scream at J.J. to run, you growl at Dick on a regular basis and would like nothing more than for him to get caught out and exposed… it also leaves you wondering at the type of relationship that they shared, not quite lovers but still partners, the occasional sexual games between them but with Dick getting his sex mainly from the models J.J. works with. J.J. finally finds someone who would offer him everything, and that’s when things really change for J.J, J.J’s revenge is sweet and a long time coming but it leaves you feeling oh so good to read that scene.
I recommend this to those who love a story that is different from the norm, that shows a disastrous relationship and the beautiful relationship that comes out of the ashes, that shows a man laying himself bare before us and making no excuses and a story that finally has a happy ending…. Well for one of them.