StuckonRewind

Hi! I’m Dianne Hartsock, the author of m/m erotic romances, both contemporary and fantasy, the psychological thriller, and anything else that comes to mind. Oh, and a floral designer.  Currently I’m working on edits for SAMMY, my story for the Project Fierce, Chicago anthology to come out later this year. All proceeds from the sale of this book will go towards helping homeless LGBTQ youth. Also, I’ve finished second round edits on THE SHED, my sequel to my psychological thriller novel ALEX, and am gearing up for the next round. And lastly, I’m busy writing my Christmas story, yay! I’ve been waiting to write this one for about a year and am happy to say I’ve hit 20k, which is about a third of the way through.

Most of my stories are m/m romance or m/m erotic romance, covering every subgenre you can think of. But the way I think my stories differ from others, is that I’m all about emotion. No matter what situations they find themselves in, I want to climb right into my character’s skin, dive into his soul, feel every sensation and emotion as he’s experiencing it. It’s an intimate, personal relationship I hope my readers will enjoy.

As for my writing process, there’s a lot of advice out there saying writers should just write the story as it comes to them, jot it all down and clean up the MS during edits. That sounds so freeing! Just let my imagination flow on the page. Unfortunately, I can’t write that way. A nugget of an idea might strike me, grabbing my attention. I’ll start to daydream about the story. Who will my characters be? One of my favorite parts of writing is that my heroes come to me readymade. This will be a contemporary story? Well, here’s Shelton and Nevil, ready and eager for me to tell their story. It will take me a few days to plot out the story in my head, but then I’m ready to go.

The beginnings are always the hardest and might take me several days to get just right, but after that the story seems to take off. I already have the arc of the story and its ending in mind. The characters might take some side trips, and that’s encouraged, but I can usually have them rounded up by the ending. But this is not always as easy as it sounds. For me, each scene has to be written the way I need it to be, every action and emotion conveyed before I can continue the story. I build on one scene to the next. Trying to write ahead and then go back and fill in the details just doesn’t work for me. Yes, it does take me a long time to get a story done, but once I’m finished, the edits afterwards are quick and simple and easily done. Perfect!

This process worked very well for my current release STUCK ON REWIND. I simply sat down and let the characters play, then with the help of my fabulous editor shaped it into this delightful little flirt for you to enjoy.

Stuck on Rewind

Breathless Press

Blurb

Can Ashton let go of his jealousy and be the friend and lover that Lance needs?

Ashton has been in love with his best friend for years, watching him grow from a pretty high school boy to the gorgeous erotic dancer at the club where they both work. The problem is that Lance enjoys the attention of a variety of men while Ashton wants him for his very own.

After a day spent denying his attraction for Lance, standing by while their friend Trey openly flirts with him, Ashton decides it’s time to make his move or risk losing his man forever. Once Lance knows how he feels he’ll realize they should be together. Or is it already too late ?

Excerpt

“Fuck!” Ashton shouted, a mixture of anger and ecstasy as Lance swallowed again, then let his softening cock slip from between his perfect lips. Ashton leaned on his elbows, his chest heaving while he caught his breath. With a last kiss on his thigh, Lance climbed off the bed, sleek limbed and graceful, and walked to the dresser with a sassy sway of his hips.

Ashton stared after him and moaned, not sure if he wanted to pull his friend’s ass back into his arms or punch him in the face.  It would be incredible to wake up with Lance every morning and make love to him. But he sternly reminded himself that they were only friends and Lance needed to stop climbing into his bed at night uninvited.

“You do remember you have a bed of your own?” he asked more sharply than he’d intended.

Lance gave him a smirk over his shoulder, making a show of licking the last of Ashton’s spunk off his swollen lips. “You told me to wake you at seven.”

“I didn’t mean… Oh hell.” Ashton fell back on the pillows and threw an arm over his eyes. He swore in exasperation when the mattress dipped and Lance’s familiar scent surrounded him. “Dammit—”

Soft fingers touched his mouth. “Don’t be mad, baby. I didn’t mean anything.”

Ashton peered at him. The guy looked positively forlorn, and Ashton sat up, giving him a one-armed hug. “I’m not mad. But you don’t need to keep doing that, either. You’re my friend!” He kissed the blushing cheek beside him. “You make a terrific roommate, and I like the company.”

“And I like you.” Lance walked his fingers up Ashton’s leg.

Ashton laughed and shooed the hand away, but couldn’t help staring at the enticing evidence of his friend’s arousal between his legs.

“Can I take care of that for you?”

“Not at all.” Lance stood up, waving off Ashton’s offer. “I’ll deal with it in the shower. You have to save your attentions for Mister Man.”

“Who are you talking about…? Wait!” Ashton rolled off the bed and trotted after Lance as he crossed the apartment.

Lance giggled, slipping behind the bathroom door but holding it cracked an inch. He smiled at Ashton with his pouty, kissable lips. “You know, the boss. Mister Kent.”

“I’m not saving myself for—”

Ashton blinked at the closed door. Why in the world would Lance think he was interested in his boss? Sure, the man was handsome as sin, but he was also an egomaniac and tyrant. Why only yesterday, he’d…

Hot blood scorched Ashton’s neck and face, his arm tingling where Morgan Kent had gripped it, towering over him. The man had bent to his ear, swamping Ashton’s senses with subtle cologne and the hint of sweat as he whispered, “If you can’t type a simple letter without mistakes, I’ll find a secretary who can.” He tightened his hand almost painfully on Ashton’s arm. “Or maybe I should just bend you over this desk and smack your ass for each mistake?”

Ashton’s dick jumped at the memory. He told it sternly to behave. “We’re not falling for that bastard. We’ll stick with the sweet boys at the club and call it good.”

Dianne Hartsock

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