GETTING IN
TOUCH
I knew Touch
of Salar was going to be
special when I first started writing it.
I've never had a story come to me so easily or fully formed before. I wrote like a woman possessed and finished
the first draft in about two weeks. The
story excited me so much I stayed up way too late with my laptop propped on
pillows as I huddled in bed. After I turned out the lights, I often had to turn
them back on to make more notes.
The secret behind all this joyful creativity
is that Touch of Salar was the first
full blown m/m erotic story that I allowed myself to write. Yes, I'd dreamed up these stories for years,
but I'd never put them on the page. I
believed I was part of a very small sub-group of women who maybe love men a
little too much. I had no clue there was
a huge market for the stories I ached to write.
I owe it to my friend Draven St. James for showing me the light.
After investigating Loose Id's submission
policies I decided to take a risk and combine my man love obsession with my
usual genre, fantasy. Once I gave myself
permission to follow my heart, the story poured out of me. I had an amazingly fun time writing it and it
was so, so thrilling to get that acceptance email from Loose Id. You mean I can do what I love, have a great
time, and get published? Wow.
Part of the reason Touch of Salar was such a kick to write is because the character of
M'lan existed before the novel came into being.
M'lan, the monk with the power to heal with his touch, gradually formed
out of a fantasy I've entertained for a long time.
I have a small curve in my spine that's
caused me a lot of pain since I was a teenager and I've come to view a massage
as an essential, nearly sacred form of self-care. As I recline on the table and the strong
hands of the masseuse explore my body in highly intimate ways, I often indulge
in a meditation that involves visualizing a magical healing energy extending
out of their fingers into the deepest parts of my body, probing and releasing
the pain locked inside.
Being a writer of fantasy, I began to build a
character based on this experience.
Wouldn't it be beyond fabulous if the masseuse with the magic touch were
also a gorgeous man? A man who was so
sensitive he knew exactly where our tensions lurk and how to unlock them? And what else could he do with that
power? It's a good thing my masseuse
(and chiropractor and physical therapist) never knew what was going on in my
mind.
Massage is so intimate, and I admire those
who can remain entirely professional while rubbing their hands all over
someone's body. But what if they can't? What if that certain someone comes to
them, disrobes and stretches out in a completely vulnerable position? I imagine it could be difficult. A key ingredient in M'lan's story came to me
one time when my masseuse was massaging my hand. For some reason that specific
part of the body struck me as more intimate than any other.
Holding hands is so basic, so sweet, and yet
so powerful. The experience brought to
tears to my eyes, revealing to me a longing for human intimacy I'd been repressing. I wondered about the power of simple touch to
reach deep inside, beyond physical wounds, to emotional secrets and basic
longings for touch that we all have buried deep within us. And so M'lan's lover began to emerge, someone
with deeply buried wounds that had never been exposed and that made him a very
dangerous person indeed.
I love to write romance mainly because I find
it thrilling to take opposites, throw them together and see how they react, how
they threaten, anger, dazzle and eventually complete each other. M'lan stepped fully formed out of my head and
into the healing temple of Salar. Jamil
the assassin wasn't far behind.
The healer and the killer—the monk and the
warrior. Once I introduced them the
story literally spilled out of me, because along with massage, writing and
releasing these fantasies has become an essential form of self-care for
me. I hope that readers can take a
deeper sort of enjoyment from the fantasy as well
In a world ruled by tyrannical kings and
fickle gods, the young monk M'lan finds himself at the center of royal intrigue
as his healing powers attract the attention of his superiors. When he learns
the handsome warrior whose body he’s tending to is not only a noble, but a
king's assassin, any attachment to him might prove fatal. Despite the danger,
he can't stop himself from falling in love. Can he risk the abandon of passion
when a slip of the tongue might force his lover to execute him?
Major Jamil Jarka comes to the temple with
one intention—heal his wounds so he can return to the fight against the
rebellion. When the monk assigned to him turns out to be stunningly attractive,
he sees this as a pleasant distraction, no more. But soon he finds himself
becoming obsessed with M'lan and is torn between the fear of betrayal and the
lure of love.
Sinister forces strive to turn the monk and
the warrior against each other—a conflict neither will survive if they cannot
trust their lives to love and the healing power of Salar.
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EXCERPT
The sun pierced a crevice in the mountains,
and M’lan raised a hand to shield his eyes. He stood on a desert battlefield
littered with the wounded, the dying, and the dead. He held a blood-smeared
sword in his other hand. He let it drop.
Dawn cut across the broken earth in a fiery
lance, the anger of Salar, god of light, exposing man’s cruelty in shocking,
vivid detail. Blood everywhere, limbs hacked, horses screaming. Hundreds of
cold, sightless eyes, all turning toward him.
M’lan stepped forward and tripped over a body
at his feet. He fell, not onto a rock-strewn desert, but marble steps.
As his palms hit a cool stone floor, he shook
his head in confusion. His vision wavered between illusion and reality. On his
hands and knees, he breathed deep and tried to remember who he was and where he
was. He raised his head, and the tentacles of the night terrors recoiled into
the shadowed corners of a temple, chased away by the sun that was indeed
cresting the mountain. He was not a warrior but a monk, a healing monk, and he
was in the temple of Ka’alar, not some hideous battlefield.
He let out a shaky breath and climbed the
last few steps on hands and knees. The nightmares were getting worse, and so
powerful that they chased him all the way out of his cell into the blessed
light of day. He thanked Salar for the dawn, then groggily staggered to his
feet. He dimly recalled rising and dressing before dawn, but the dream had
hunted him down and reclaimed him on his way to the temple.
The fading aroma of night-blooming cacti
still sweetened the air of the healing room. Clay ovens had been fired to heat
it, but a chill remained in the open space. M’lan was grateful, because the
nightmare had left him drenched with sweat. He leaned against a marble column
and soaked in the rose-tinted glow of the sunrise. Morning was his favorite
time of day, a fresh start, a new beginning. Every day, he channeled divine energy
to mend fallen warriors. Every night, as if he became a warrior himself, he
relived the horror his patients experienced in real life.
His heartbeat slowed, and he took a moment to
clear his mind and prepare for the first patient of the day. He’d trained for
years to calm his mind and cool his passions. While he was busy treating his
patients, passion was not a problem. Despite the array of beautiful bodies he
worked on, he stayed as cool as a mountain lake, his mind still as he
concentrated on sinews, muscles, tendons, and ligaments. At night, though, his
passions erupted in those violent dreams of war, killing, and terror.
The monks of Ka’alar Healing Temple
exclusively served the noble classes of the kingdom of Rakkan. In recent years,
most of their clients were soldiers, officers who’d been injured in the ongoing
battle with Jirnan Province to the south. The monks also treated elite forces
of no particular rank or designation—spies, assassins, sons and daughters of
the nobility trained to serve the king in secret and deadly ways. The only
reason M’lan knew this was because of the nightmares. He saw what his clients
did, where they went, who they killed. If anyone ever found out, he’d be
executed on the spot.
Cobwebs clearing, he hurried to wipe down the
soft-padded table in the middle of the room with essential oils and snapped out
a fresh cloth to smooth on top of it. Today he was to begin the healing process
on a new patient. For the sake of secrecy and discretion, patients were
referred to by title. Today’s client, if spoken to, was to be addressed as
Major. He was male, twenty-eight passages of age, and had been in the
intensive-care ward of the temple for three weeks.
M’lan’s role came into play after the most
grievous injuries were patched, wounds closed, and vital functions stabilized.
He put the final touches on a body to make it as fine and fit as before
whatever trauma had broken it. He aligned the chi as well as the bones,
muscles, and nerves. He released locked-in trauma, allowing the body to flow
naturally again, maybe better than before, if the connection was right and the
patient willing.
Some warriors only wanted to be patched up so
they could return to the fight. Others believed a complete healing cycle would
make them better at what they did and less likely to fail again. They all took
injury as a personal failure.
The entry chimes sounded, and M’lan bowed his
head, as was custom when nobility entered. The patient wore a black silk robe,
head covered with a hood. He moved with grace and a lightness of foot, unlike
most of the warriors M’lan worked on, who tended to be heavyset and
muscle-bound. By the tang of sulfur salts, M’lan knew the man had already
warmed up with exercise and soaked in the healing pools. Good. A committed
patient was so much easier to work with.
The man crossed the tiled floor without a
sound and stepped up to the table. From behind him, M’lan watched the silk robe
drop to the floor before he raised his eyes, ready to assess what he saw.
His breath caught. Even though he was used to
seeing well-sculpted, muscular bodies, this one was exceptional. Faint scars
crisscrossed the truly beautiful almond skin but were obscured by the swirls
and tangled vines of an elaborate tattoo that climbed from the crease beneath
the man’s left buttock to the base of his neck. His torso tapered from the
broad shoulders to a slim waist. The arms and legs were lean yet muscular, and
the buttocks tight and hard. He had glossy black hair that flashed red in the
sunlight. M’lan glimpsed a fine high cheekbone, sculpted jawline, and aquiline
nose. A true son of Rakkan.
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BEHIND THE
SCENES WITH ALEXIS DURAN
Has your perspective on the
writing process changed since you became published?
I'm much more aware of the presence of the
reader. I'm always asking myself how my
readers will feel about where I'm taking the characters, especially with the
series. Before being published, I guess
I'd say was more self-indulgent and if I wanted to change things or take them
in a radical new direction, I would. Now I have to think about the expectations
I've created and the story questions that need to be answered.
Do you work best on a deadline,
or do you need freedom from time constraints?
Deadlines work well for me, as long as I
don't set unreasonable ones. I
absolutely love NaNoWriMo and my best writing is fast and furious. Deadlines stop me from lollygagging.
Is there a word or phrase you
catch yourself overusing?
I have a couple pages of notes just on
that. The list became much funnier after
the first time I had a sex scene professionally edited. Let's just say that there are a lot of
synonyms for "hard" and I'm working on using all of them.
How do you know you’ve written
a good book?
I re-read the entire manuscript before each
rewrite. If I still enjoy it after the
fifth or sixth time through, I think it must be pretty good.
Are you a Swooper (write first,
edit later,) a Basher (edit each sentence as you go,) or both?
I never heard those terms before. I'm definitely a Swooper. The most valuable advice I ever received as a
budding novelist was "fix it in the rewrite". If I tried to perfect every sentence or scene
as I went, I'd still be working on the first novel. During the first draft, it's all about the
story trying to get out of my head and onto the page. I know I'll be able to make it pretty
later.
What are you currently working
on? How is it different from other books you’ve written?
I’m working on an erotic space opera. It's
the first time I've really given my quirky sense of humor full reign in the
erotica stories. I love to play with how
silly our culture is and in science fiction you can really do a lot of humorous
social commentary. It will also be my
first erotic SF as well as my first full length novel in the m/m erotic genre.
Is there anything you haven’t
written that you would like to try some day? Why have you avoided it in the
past?
I really want to write a write an erotic
romance set in the Victorian Era. I've already plotted it out in my head and
tried to start it once, but I stopped when I realized I didn't have a good
handle on all the nitty gritty details, including everything from currency
denominations to the evolution of undergarments. It's funny, you grow up reading Sherlock
Holmes and Charles Dickens and think you really know the time and culture, but
when you try to write it, suddenly you find great gaping holes in your
vocabulary. I'm intimidated by all the
research and the process of incorporating a zillion facts into my mind so that
it will flow when I need it, but I really love that story so someday I'll
knuckle down and do it.
When and where can readers look
forward to seeing you this year?
I'm attending the Gay Romance Northwest
Meet-up in Seattle this September, as a participant, not a presenter, but I'll
be there. That's the only thing on the
calendar so far.
What do you feel are the most
important aspects to a good romance?
Strong, well-rounded characters. Even if they're not physically or emotionally
strong, they've got to have unbendable passions and desires. A great romance character will fight to
overcome his or her weaknesses in order to achieve their ultimate desire, which
in romance is almost always an intimate relationship with that certain
someone. Once you have your interesting,
amazing characters on the stage, then you need conflict, conflict,
conflict. That is where the tension,
anticipation, frustration and release comes from that makes romance so sweet.
What is your least favorite
part of the writing process?
The first rewrite, when I have to make sense
out of the crazy mess of the first draft.
LIGHTNING
ROUND
How do you feel about being the
center of attention?
I don't like it! Makes me squirm (and not in a good way.)
How do you feel, generally,
about the opposite sex?
I adore them. That's why I write gay romance!
What is your worst habit?
Descending into despair whenever things don't
go my way, like if I get a so-so review or a story rejection, it's the end of
my world for at least several hours.
How deeply does your job /
social role define you as a person?
Being a writer, a creative person, is
extremely important to me. It's my raison d'être. The day job, not so much.
FAVORITES
Book: Jitterbug
Perfume by Tom Robbins
Movie: Blade Runner
Band: The Clash
Quote: "Whatever you can do, or think you can
do, begin it. For boldness has Magic, Power, and Genius in it." Goethe
TV Show: Firefly, and more currently, Castle.
Guilty Indulgence: The next story. I have a huge stack of first
drafts and projects nearing completion, but I just can't say no when new
characters come knocking.
Dessert: Caramel
ice cream with the salty bits in it.
Time of Day: Dawn. I don't see it that often, but when I
do it's awesome.
Alexis Duran was born and raised in the
Pacific Northwest. At the University of Oregon, her fascination with people and
relationships led her to major in Sociology, but her main love has always been
creative writing. She has worked in
museums, in fashion, in finance and film production. Her favorite job so far
was Administrative Assistant in a haunted Victorian Mansion. She's had several short stories published in
the mystery, horror and literary genres, and one contemporary fantasy
novel. Her fiction has won several
awards including the Rupert Hughes Award from the Maui Writers Conference. She's thrilled to enter the realm of erotic
romance with the publication of her novel Touch
of Salar. She lives with one dog and
four and half cats. She is currently
working on the next Salar novel and several other erotic novellas.
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