I’m still working on Season Two of Wicked Men, but to be honest, not much has been accomplished in the last year or five. Life and work have been dragging me away from home and writing.

I expected this to happen, and for it to continue. A work/home balance will come soon (I hope) and I’ll be able to get back to my regular schedule. But for now, I’m letting the muse’s ideas percolate a bit longer. She’s not happy about it, but she’ll survive.

In the meantime, be safe and well…

Brandon (updated 8/20/25)

*photo by Zachary Staines

For myself, 2015 has been a year of creative fun and literary exploration. It has also been a time of tumultuous change in my personal life, which has pulled me away from my normal level of online activity.

Despite that, the rewards have been great (even with the heinous day job taking up so much of my time). You, my readers, have made my efforts worthwhile and given me the vigor to keep going.

For that, I thank you.

Blessings for 2016,

Brandon

Thanks to all my readers, the judges, and to all the other Rainbow Award winners.

This book is about men who act like…wait for it… Men. They are horny and hot and arrogant. They fuck, they suck, and they don’t give a damn about anyone but themselves.

Rogue resonated with me because Renfro’s portrayal of gay men below the Mason-Dixon line is spot on. I know these characters in real life. I’ve met them on the streets and in the clubs of Atlanta, Memphis, Tupelo, Houston and a dozen other southern cities. The upbringing of these corn-fed beauties shows even in their arrogance. And so does the baggage they carry.

But what struck me here was everything Renfro didn’t say. The flip side of arrogance is insecurity, and Renfro could have made this into a weeping, sob story of self-reflection and redemption, but that would have ruined everything.

Who wants to change when you’re on top of the world? Short answer: No one does.

Even the bad boys win one once in a while. And these boys are so sinfully bad. Sometimes, evil just tastes better.

Get Rogue from Amazon

Author Bio

Allen Renfro makes his home in Knoxville, Tennessee and is a native Tennessean. A graduate of Tennessee’s oldest college, Tusculum, he frequently appeared in the small press and underground zines of the early to mid-1990s. A published poet and artist, he has tackled controversial subjects and is making a name for himself in dark fiction. He is the author of the supernatural thriller The Raised and the psychological thriller Snap. The Falling, the sequel to The Raised, was released in January 2013.

The men and women involved had high hopes. The wanted to redefine the portrayal of LGBT people in film. In that, this piece of cinematic art is a smashing success.

I sat down last night with some popcorn and a great amount of anticipation. By the teary end of this movie all I could utter was More, please more. Don’t let the sci-fi tag turn you off, this is drama at its finest with science fiction elements as a backdrop.

It is going to leave you wanting more.

Credence, is available at Vimeo On Demand

Summer Symphony Honorable Mention – Bisexual Contemporary General Fiction

Wicked Men Honorable Mention – Gay Erotic Romance

Blurb:

Sid Rivers and Jack Brown are two sides of the same coin. One is a lawyer with his own firm and dreams of money and power; the other is a criminal with a lengthy record and a quest for vengeance. When they meet, sparks fly. But was their meeting an accident? Or was it planned by the billionaires who want to control their destiny?

The Love of Wicked Men is an erotic journey into the underbelly of the legal profession, the corporate culture of profit-at-any-cost, and the secret world of industrial espionage.

Blurb:

Martin Zoric, a maestro and composer in Croatia, had vivid dreams of fatherhood, of a small hand pressed to his, of pink dresses and girlish laughter. Then his wife had a stillbirth, and his world fell apart. He listened to the unwanted apologies, stood by his wife as was expected, and kept his façade strong and firm for the entire world to see.

But, he has never found the strength let go and grieve over the loss of his stillborn daughter. Now, he can’t feel his music and is obviously falling apart.

When renowned pianist Ren Wakahisa landed in Croatia for a summer concert series, he was hoping to escape the cultural pressures put upon him by his Japanese family. They wanted him to conform – to forsake love for familial duties. But Ren has other ideas about love and family obligation.

Over the course of the summer, Ren must decide whether he will yield to his family’s wishes or has the courage to be the man he wants to be.

It being Queer Romance Month, I decided to answer a question a reader posed to me some time back.

What is the difference between MM Romance and Gay Contemporary Romance?

Here are a couple of formulas to answer the question.

MM Romance:

a + b = HEA

Gay Contemporary Romance:

e^ix = cos x + i sin x = HEA (maybe, but not always – particularly if the variables are off or your imaginary numbers aren’t squared).

*Bonus points if you recognize the GCR formula.

*Major points deducted from your final score if you came to the erroneous conclusion that writing MM Romance is ‘easier’.

I hope that clarified things for you.

I will continue writing, but my online presence and interaction will be severely diminished. As will my publishing schedule.

The enthusiasm within the my Goodreads fan group has helped me pump out 10 releases in 2015, but I cannot keep that pace going with the reality bombs life has decided to drop on me as of late. Business, family and health issues have had a huge impact in the last year and I must bend to necessities of the real world as much as anyone else.

In the last four years, we have raised nearly $10,000 for LGBT youth. That, in itself, is something I am proud to have been a part of. Again, it was the people in the GR group who helped make that happen. They deserve all the credit.

I’ve met many wonderful people while writing, even those still under the illusion that I’m a woman. I hate to break it to you, but yeah, I’m a guy. Have been for 50 years now, so we’re moving into the bitter old queen stage. (Use caution.)

Going forward, I plan to use my (increasingly limited) time to focus on writing well and less on trying to attract the readers who need to be constantly ‘entertained’ via social media. As an indie writer, I don’t have the time, the resources, or frankly, the inclination. Most people who know me in real life (and not the online persona), understand that I’m a cranky old sod who is extremely protective, opinionated and private.

I hope you’ll stick around, but I’ll understand if you drift away. Life is just life. The best way to stay informed about new releases and upcoming book sales is by signing up for my email list. (Subscribe on the right. >>>)

I wish the very best for all of you.

Love ’em hard,

Brandon Shire

Evil has flourished since the beginning of time, but at long last it has come to pass—that the world should end at the hands of the divine. A Lesser Earth thrives in the ashes of the old world.

As does an unnamed lost boy, the abandoned effigy of evil, who wanders the globe without a clue and without a purpose.

The Last Angel Ero’s only task is to find this boy and raise him into the arms of Grace. He doesn’t expect to question that purpose—and he certainly doesn’t expect to find an affinity with the evil inside the boy he names Sol.

It’s only when Ero begins to explore new truths that he realizes just what having faith in Sol may cost him: his life, his love and his soul.

From Amazon

Excerpt:

It began as an osculatory brush of pinpricks against his flesh. The urge to flinch, to cringe away, warped the laborious placidity of his thoughts, and it only worsened when Sol’s other hand came down hard on his bicep like he meant to crush it. He couldn’t gulp down the gasp that escaped when the pinpricks burgeoned into micropools of pure heat.
His bruise. His wound. Sol was reopening the half-healed contusion, his teeth sunken into the old torn flesh and muscle of scar tissue. Pain. Instantaneous. Significant. Bone-deep and soulful. Pain.
He tried to cry out, but the sound was hoarse and lost to the force of Sol’s bite. The wildfire within expanded, screaming through his veins, searing through arteries. It was all he could do to reach up and clutch at Sol’s hair to stem the outcry swelling like a rabid cancer in his desecrated throat.

Author Bio:

S. R. Carrillo is the pen name of U.S. Army Sergeant Sierra R. Collett.

Born and raised in the leafy suburbs outside Houston, Texas, she’s young, married and has been writing ever since she’s been able. As a multiracial, nonbinary, whocaressexual, she tends to explore different aspects of human (and nonhuman) sexuality and identity in her work.

She’s used to being referred to as “she” for simplicity’s sake—since, technically, she’s both and neither. She considers it an honor.

The Soul is her first novel. Procession of Eternity is her second. Both are part of the LGBTQ dark fantasy Soul series.

SEASON TWO – THE LOVE OF WICKED MEN (DRAFT)

Jack was in Philadelphia when he first caught sight of the tail. He noticed the same man three months later when he was in the Keys, and then a third time in LA. At first, he thought the guy might have been working for Wessman or the Feds, but they would’ve moved in on him long before now.

This tail was too casual. He didn’t seem to mind showing himself now and again, but he never got close enough for Jack to clock his ass and demand information. His presence was meant to be an irritating reminder that someone was keeping tabs.

So Jack wasn’t surprised when he saw the same man standing outside the DC restaurant he was about to have lunch in. This close, Jack could get his hands on him, and they both knew it. But there were too many witnesses and the idiot was counting on Jack not wanting to draw attention to himself. His mistake. Drake and Sweeny were already in place outside to help snatch him up.

“He’s here,” Jack whispered. He grinned and immersed himself in the menu.

Jack’s hidden earpiece crackled.

“He brought company this time,” Sweeny advised a moment later.

Jack looked up just in time to see Shane step off the sidewalk and make his way across the street toward the restaurant. His jaw clenched. “Stand down.”

“Are you sure?” Drake asked. “You need me inside?”

“No.”

When Shane opened the restaurant door, Jack met his eyes with a stern but blank face. “What the fuck do you want?” he growled as Shane sat down across from him.

Shane leaned back in his chair, his expression smug. The waiter came over and put another place setting down.

“He’s not staying,” Jack said, shooing the kid away.

The waiter paused, scooped everything up and disappeared.

Shane chuckled. “You don’t seem happy to see me.”

“When people from my past show up unexpectedly, it usually means trouble.”

“You’re still pissed because I played you,” Shane countered.

Jack shook his head. “No, if I was pissed it would be because I didn’t get to exact the retribution your former boss required. He should have died slowly and painfully.”

Shane shrugged. “Wasn’t my call.”

“Which means we have nothing to talk about,” Jack replied, going back to the menu.

“The old lady wants to talk to you.”

“Tough shit,” Jack answered without looking up.

“She asked if you’d come see her willingly.”

Jack met Shane’s eyes. “No.” He took a moment to notice a gay couple at another table holding hands before he went back to the menu.

“She’s not going away.”

Jack took a breath. He was quickly losing his appetite, and his patience. “What the fuck does she want?” he finally asked, exasperated. “I’ve got nothing for your people and I’m not interested in working for you.”

“She wants you.”

“Well, why doesn’t she just set me up again?” Jack asked. “She seemed adept at manipulating everyone the last time.”

“There was a lot more to Ruoho and Croft than you realized. It wasn’t just about retribution. She could’ve had anyone bump those assholes off.”

“Well, why didn’t she?” Jack spat, drawing the attention of the other diners as his voice rose. He picked up his water glass and took a drink, his eyes hard on Shane. “What are you doing here? And why is your idiot following me all over the country?”

Shane’s mouth fell into a straight line. He saw a waiter going by with a coffee pot in hand and motioned at his cup. The man filled it and walked away. “Your boy is about to step into a world of shit. It’s deeper than he realizes.”

“My boy?” Jack repeated, cocking an eyebrow.

“Sid Rivers.”

Jack brushed the comment away with a flick of his hand. “Rivers is pretty good at taking care of himself. And he’s not my boy.”

“Your old buddy Wessman is involved this time. Or should I say again?” Shane asked. “He wants you, and he knows the best way to get you is through Rivers.”

Jack scoffed, even though he didn’t like the sound of this. “Is that what he thinks?”

“After you came running to the rescue last time? Yeah.” Shane nodded. “He’s going to use Rivers as bait. And if you don’t help him, Rivers is going to end up dead. My boss doesn’t want that to happen, as I’m sure you can understand.” Shane folded his hands on the table and took a breath before reaching for his coffee. “Wessman was billing the federal government upwards of six figures. He’s got connections out the ass, but after that fiasco on the highway…” He took a sip of his coffee, grimaced at the strength of it and reached for the sugar. “Rivers will get hurt.”

“So why doesn’t he come after me directly if he’s got those kinds of resources?”

Shane tilted his head, pursing his lips as he dumped two packets of sugar into his coffee. “Because it’s Wessman.”

Jack let out a long, increasingly pissed-off breath. “How does an asshole like Wessman get contracts like that?”

Shane shrugged. “War on terror, all that. It’s big business nowadays. He’s just filling the niche.”

Jack looked away, disgust written on his face. “Yeah, the contrived fear-mongering we use to make the corporate warmongers more money.”

Shane sat back, took another sip of his coffee and seemed to approve of it this time. He studied Jack for a moment. “You’ve become quite the liberal cynic in your old age.”

“Fucking liberals are just as bad. They couch the story differently, but they’re reaching for the same dollar bills.”

“Politics and money,” Shane agreed, crossing his legs as he leaned further back in his chair. “The story hasn’t changed, just the names of the players. So how about we work together to change things?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “There are plenty of your people working for the same crowd I work against.”

Shane snorted in derision. “You make it sound like you’re doing some good by stealing corporate data. You’re a fucking thief, Jack. The only thing you do to these companies when you steal their secrets is give them another write-off. You enrich yourself just like the CEOs who work there. Only you think you’re holding the moral high ground. That’s bullshit and we both know it. If you really want to change things, then come listen to what the old lady has to say.”

“I tried working for your people once before, it didn’t work out so well.”

“This isn’t Afghanistan, Jack. And you weren’t working for me.”

Jack narrowed his eyes trying to figure out why Shane was trying so hard. “Your group isn’t officially shop, is it?” Jack asked. “A renegade cell?”

Shane stared at him and took another slurp of coffee.

“You’re completely outside,” Jack said, nodding to himself. “Not NSA or Homeland… That means you answer to no one except your boss lady.”

Shane admitted nothing. But then, he didn’t need to either.

Jack continued to nod to himself, confirming his own thoughts. He glanced outside. Drake was idling the van across the street. He brought his eyes back to Shane. “That’s treason as far as the U.S. government is concerned. They’ll put you in a dark hole somewhere and forget you ever existed.”

Shane chuckled. “Treason is a relative term these days and the label usually depends on how deep your pockets are. But you already know that.”

“So… What?” Jack asked, trying to put it all together. “Are you trying to tell me your maiden of honor got a bunch of freelancers together to fight against the oligarchy?” He paused, waiting for an answer but not really expecting one. “Didn’t she grow up in it?” he asked, his eyes boring into Shane’s. He shook his head and scoffed. “How fucking noble of her.”

“Not everyone is an enemy,” Shane countered.

Jack laughed. “You’re right. They’re too busy being puppets. Look around. This city is filled with them.” A sharp-edged silence fell between them.

“Just for the record,” Jack said as he stood. “I’ve already had my vengeance. You can count me out.”

“What about your boyfriend?” Shane asked. “Are you going to let Wessman and the Feds steamroll him?”

“Like I said, Rivers can take care of himself.”

“If Wessman doesn’t kill him first, the Feds will eventually get him.” Shane paused, watching Jack. “Your friends left two ex-FBI agents dead on a public highway. The department isn’t going to forget that. They know he’s connected, they just don’t know how. If they have to, they’ll fabricate a case against him to get the information they want. But you know that too.”

Jack turned away again, his mind ticking over the information as he went toward the door. The waiter stepped in front of him as if he could stop Jack from leaving. Jack moved the kid aside and hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s paying. Include a twenty dollar tip on the bill for yourself.”

***

Shane switched seats as soon as Jack left so he had a full view of all the exits. He picked up the menu and started looking it over. When the waiter came by, he ordered lunch and pulled his encrypted cellphone out.

“How did it go?” Marion asked.

“As expected.”

“Will he be looking after Sid?”

Shane’s eyes flicked to the street outside. Jack and his team were already gone. “He’ll probably be in Atlanta by tomorrow or the next day.”

“And the other problem?” she asked.

“Not yet. I didn’t get into it. He might need a little more motivation.”

Silence filled the line.

“He just needs time,” Shane said.

“A luxury we don’t have,” she reminded him.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You do that.”

She disconnected and Shane put the phone on the table. For a moment, he wondered if Jack was right in his obstinate determination to avoid working for Ms. Marion. He looked up with a false smile when the waiter came by to refill his coffee.

Jack would be working for Marion whether he knew it or not. The woman had a way of making sure she got her way.

###

If you don’t know the story yet, grab Season One.