SGL Café

Fiction du jour: Caught off Base

'Ange' picks up a lost waif in the rain... Interesting beginning. Salacious in its implications even ... for Tyler (the waif) quickly calls Ange a "pervert". But as the story unfolds quickly the sexual tension and angst over past relationships makes Caught Off Base a sexy and heartfelt introduction to author JM Snyder. The story is expertly written, sexual situations nicely teased out, with even the ominous rise of the antagonist (Lamar) who I wanted to jump into the story to protect Tyler from. The only complaint is the length. It's too short for the 2.99 price. Should have been .99cents. However its only a mild complaint because I enjoyed the story, and JM Snyder is now on my radar. The character of Ange is from an earlier Snyder book called Stepping Up to the Plate, which I haven't read yet but its on my to do list. ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ Five stars for quality characters and prose ... minus one for length.

Fiction du jour: The greatest lies are the ones we tell ourselves

...author of the darkly provocative Dancing With The Devil, answers the question: What is Cheesy Porn...and other fairytales? "Firstly, it's the title of one of the stories in the collection - where Dante recalls his first encounter with a porno theatre when he was only sixteen. The tsunami of sensations he experienced and later described as his "very first high" sent Dante on a decades-long pursuit of that high. Snippets from those decades are in Dancing With The Devil, the book that introduced the obsessive and horny Dante to the world. Cheesy Porn...and other fairytales peeps Dante in grammar school, the whimsical birth of his obsessive nature and the suspicion that one day he just may keep a hot boy chained in his basement." Cheesy Porn also introduces some new characters, such as Andrew and Eddie in the excerpt below. It's a story titled The Game and it exemplifies that the greatest lies are the ones we tell ourselves. ~~ EXCERPT from Cheesy Porn...and other fairytales Andrew’s hazel eyes narrowed, “Speaking of pussy, you can’t be getting much because you’re always up in my face. Where is this mystery lady you keep talking about? What’s up with that?” “You the one always askin’ me to come over.” “Just answer my question. Where is she?” Eddie turned back to his beer, drained it. “Bring me another brew.” “Uh-huh.” "Uh-huh what?" “Nothin’.” Andrew stood, got two more beers from the kitchen and a bag of Cheese Doodles. He stood over Eddie, whose hand was still under his waistband. “What?” "Why do you do that?" "Do what?" "That," he gestured toward Eddie’s lap with a look of disgust. "You’re sitting there playing with yourself." Eddie made a mouth fart, “You trippin’." "You are," Andrew sat down and continued, "And you don’t even realize it. Go sit over there before crabs start jumping on me." He shoved Eddie over on his side, but he immediately toggled back like a Weeble. "First off, fuck you. And second off, I ain’t playin’ wit’ my shit. And I don’t wanna sit over there. You can’t see the TV good from over there. Why don’t you move over there?" He shoved Andrew over on his side, but he didn’t wobble back. Andrew just leaned on his elbow, and stared. "What?" Eddie asked again. "Are you gay?" "What?” Eddie stiffened. “Are you drunk? Why you ask me some crazy shit like that?" "The other night," Andrew said, "I was watching this report on FOX—” “That‘s your problem right there.” “Hey, I like to know what the crazies are doing,” Andrew said. “Anyway, one of the crazies was talking about the huge amount of bisexual black men who keep it all so low nobody knows. So it got me thinking.” “FOX? Got you thinkin‘? About what?!” “Are you flying under the radar? I‘m noticing that you always got your hand down your pants when you‘re over here. What‘s that about?” “Chill wit’ that shit, Drew.” Eddie sat back, took his beer and cracked it. Andrew smiled. “We’ve been friends forever and I can point out some stuff. But you can tell me. Are you one of those down low brothers Sherri Shepard talked about?" "Yeah, right, right,” he dug his elbow into Andrew’s butt. “The way your ass jiggles when you walk makes me hornier than a motherfucker. And if you’re done talkin’ bullshit, take your ass into the kitchen and fix us some grub. And stop watchin’ The View, too. No wonder you’re all crazy lately." Andrew slowly sat up and ripped open the Cheese Doodles. "Don’t try to change the subject. I’m your boy, so tell me." He shoveled some of the orange snacks into his mouth and passed the bag to Eddie. "I came back over to watch the fuckin’ game, not to talk about, about… faggot shit. You makin’ me real uncomfortable today, Drew." He popped a few Doodles into his mouth, spewing crumbs onto his stomach as he chewed. "You’re not uncomfortable just sober. But see what I mean?" "What the fuck now!?" Eddie blurted; more crumbs flew. "You’re homophobic. Why do you have to use that word? And you say it like, like it’s the nastiest thing somebody could be. You say it with passion. That’s a clear sign of repressed desire." Andrew locked his gaze with Eddie’s as the pre-game show played silently on the screen. Then Eddie said, "If you try to kiss me, I’ll fuck you up." "See, there you go again. You are so down low even you don’t know it. I think you just need a good stiff one." Eddie lashed out knocking Andrew over again ending with his tattooed arm rested across Andrew‘s neck. Cheese Doodles hit the floor. The beer hovered in Eddie’s other hand, dripping foam down his arm. Eddie’s brown eyes were wild for a moment, and then they quickly softened. He smiled and returned to his former position. Picking up the Doodles, he said, “You need to stop playin’. That shit ain’t funny.” Andrew’s eyes were brightly lit, “Easy son, no need for violence. I haven’t seen that look in your eye since I ate your scrawny pig.” He slowly sat up. They were side by side again, drinking and staring at the screen. Eddie nudged him and said, “If anybody got fag tendencies, it’s you." "Really?” Andrew said, snatching the Cheese Doodles off his lap. “How do you figure that one?” Eddie faced him, "I saw that Barbra Streisand CD by the stereo. I ain’t say shit ‘cause I ain’t wanna embarrass your ass. But you probably lip-sync in the mirror when nobody’s around. And you never did say exactly why crazy-ass Angela suddenly packed her bags and dipped out on you." Eddie smirked and reached for the bag again, but Andrew held it out of reach. “Don’t play stupid. You had issues with her from day one. That’s why you moved out.” “Naw,” Eddie stared at the screen again, “You got it twisted. She never liked me. And I left ‘cause it was time. Once she started stayin’ here all the time and tryin’ to run shit, it was time to bounce.” “That was your decision. I never asked you to leave.” Andrew said, turning up the bag and pouring Doodles directly into his mouth. “Not in some many words,” Eddie faced him again. “That’s nasty. Why don’t you put those in a bowl and stop hoggin’ them like that.” Andrew stuck his face in the bag and made snorting sounds while crunching Doodles. Eddie looked at him with a sickly smile, "There ain’t nothing sexier than a pudgy man making pig-noises with oranges Doodle bits on his lips. No wonder Angela left, you Streisand-lovin’ fuck." "I’m imitating you! And for your information that CD belonged to Angela.” "Right, right, whatever. I bet you know all the words though." “Wait, did you just call me pudgy a second ago?” Andrew’s eyes roamed over Eddie’s six-foot-two frame, "Never mind, don’t try to flip the script. This is just more proof of what I’ve been saying all along," he got up to get a bowl. "You got gay issues." "I’m all man and you know it." He grabbed his stomach with both hands, as if his love-handles were proof of his masculinity. Eddie watched Andrew leaving the room, "And I hope you know you switch when you walk." Something crashed in the kitchen. Eddie smiled....

On the set: Taylor Siluwé's cult hit coming to life

...about Dancing with the Devil: THE MOVIE Inspired by the darkly provocative cult hit DANCING WITH THE DEVIL. (Directed by Lovari & Taylor Siluwé) It's been a long time coming,but despite financial difficulties and a tough economy, the DWTD train has left the station with preliminary filming taking place on 7.20.10. Although there was a surprising (to say the least) last minute cast change, the shoot went off without a hitch. More details to come here sporadically, but the entire process will be documented and stills uploaded to Dancing with the Devil's Facebook page. Featured: Navi Rozi, Gianni Astorgia, Trel Howard & Jonathan Nunez While you wait impatiently for DWTD to drop, check out Taylor Siluwé's other works: His new and most eclectic short story collection to date - Cheesy Porn...and other fairytales. ...and the story that launched his career - A TASTE for CHERRIES By doing so, you'll be supporting Same Gender Love centric films moving beyond the concept stage. Or, become a sponsor of the film by donating below. Large or small contributors will hear from Taylor and be added to the films list of sponsors. The DWTD crew thanks you in advance for clicking the button below ...

Cheesy Porn ... and other fairytales

** See important message below excerpt. ** ...Because some things beg to be touched [excerpt from Cheesy Porn] ...Across the street from the scene of the pickle incident, my eyes gravitated toward the white-washed windows of the store-fronts in the same morbid way people turn toward car accidents. The door was open for the first time in eons; its darkened interior echoed like a low moan and stroked my lonely soul. So I drifted across the street through the summer haze and heat, ignoring that acidic memory gurgling in my stomach. Squinting inside, I focused on a tall guy on a ladder doing something to a light fixture. Paint cans, broken sheet-rock and all sorts of crap littered the floor beneath him. He wore torn and paint-splattered denim shorts, oversized and hung extremely low, the back pockets were almost out of reach of his pale, hairy arms. His purple and white boxers were on display, looking crisp and new compared to the shorts, shirtless and sweating, his baseball cap cocked and balanced the way only the youngest and coolest can cock and balance it. Waves of jet-black hair spiraled out the back. A small paint-splattered boom box on the dusty counter blared Outcast’s infectious old hit, ‘Hey Ya!’ The same counter where I’d once pointed at a promising five-gallon jar and said—One, please. As always, when I heard that song my body started to move, doing that quirky little dance that André 3000 did in the video. Thoughts of fuzzy pickles, explosive diarrhea, and debilitating stomach cramps faded, and I had a moment. I drifted into the store, sandals crackling over sheet-rock. He was six-one maybe two, Puerto Rican or maybe Spanish—Spain Spanish, I mean. He was feeling the music also, snapping narrow hips to the beat as he fiddled with the fixture, oblivious that we were dancing together. I danced closer. Don’t know why. Don’t remember doing it. But next thing I knew I was at the base of the ladder looking up at that pale, youngest and coolest-of-the-cool Puerto Rican guy—or Spain Spanish—who was dancing on a ladder, fucking with a fixture, head craned back looking straight up. It was amazing he didn’t fall. I could’ve reached out and stroked the hairs on his calves. I could’ve pulled his boxers down and exposed a pale butt with more hairs poking from the crack. I could’ve extended a finger and trailed it down the line of that sweaty spine, down through the crack and tickled him there; yeah, I could’ve done that. Outcast blared. He danced and fiddled. I hovered below and behind, so close I could feel the heat coming through those boxers, could smell his tangy pheromone—with just a splash of cologne—that the youngest and coolest-of-the-cool kats emit in the heat of July. I watched my hands hover at his hips, as if I was gonna lift him off that ladder; watched as they slowly, almost imperceptibly, made contact with thin damp cotton. Still, he danced and fiddled; unaware that my uncontrollable lust was lurking so close to his cherished parts, delirious from his scent. Suddenly, as if they had little minds of their own, my hands clamped together and my fingers gripped his warm cottony hips right there in that old deli.... Available NOW! CHEESY PORN...and other fairytales Taylor Siluwé releases his most eclectic short-story collection to date. New tales of fantasy, fairies and obsession - from the whimsical to the shocking. Only on KINDLE ... (& apps for iPhone, iPad, Blackberry, PC and Android!) log onto www.TaylorSiluwe.com or search "Taylor Siluwe" on Amazon.com ** proceeds go to the DANCING WITH THE DEVIL page to screen project (preliminary filming begins 07.19.2010!)

...SUPPORT! Help us tell OUR stories all the time! If you want to see more and more Same Gender Love centric stories make that daring leap from page to screen, then put your money where your entertainment tastes lie. And support tangentially by supporting OUR businesses who cater to, and are for and about US. For example ... Shout outs to all those who have already donated much needed cash, expertise and well wishes. Special shout out to LAVENDERPOP Greeting Cards for the most generous financial support this week. Thank them by giving greetings for "diverse affections" for every occasion, or, just because. www.LavenderPop.com **

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In the coming weeks, preliminary shooting will begin on the film version of DANCING WITH THE DEVIL. Despite the tough economy and even tougher funding raising, we're forging ahead -- even if we have to live off Ramen noodles for months. Yes, its that serious. As artists and writers and activists struggle to tell stories geared toward same gender love, our stories, any and ALL donations from the community are greatly appreciated. Whatever you can spare, know that you are helping to bring more and more of OUR stories to light. So, please donate, by click button below.

Shameless plug ... Check out the short story that launched my career. A Taste for Cherries is a raw tale of selfish lust run amok, and its only available on KINDLE (and apps for iPhone, iPod, iPad & Blackberry) for only .99cents! It's yet another salacious tale you won't soon forget. ~ tS