... a waistcoat ripper?
By now, the gay-niche lit explosion has reached every possible genre—and probably created a few new ones—so historical gay romances are nothing new. But I've got to admit, I've never got my hot little hands on one, until City Weekly received this promo copy of Erastes' Transgressions, an "M/M Romance" set in 17th century England, involving the torrid comminglings of Jonathan the seething, repressed puritan and David the swarthy blacksmith. Of course, the first thing one does is skim through the pages to find the first steamy, Lady Chatterley's Lover-type passage. And Transgressions doesn't disappoint:
David's tongue was a lightning strike, a shocking bolt from out of the clear blue sky, which touched the base of Jonathan's spine and set his senses on fire. He felt like he must be shining like a summer beacon in the meadow. David's other hand was around his waist, fluttering over his back and, without knowing why he did it, Jonathan pushed his hips hard against David's, and their cocks touched. The spell of the kiss broke as Jonathan gasped at the blissful and yet terrible sensation this had caused. He pulled away, rolling sideways in horror and disgust at his body's reaction.
"Stop!" he ordered, his breathing heavy. He glared at David. "Thou must not."
Now, from what little I've read, I'm getting the feeling that David is one swarthy blacksmith who doesn't know the meaning of the word "shan't."
As for the cover art, I'm glad the publisher chose not to go the two-Fabios ("bifabial?") route—though I might suggest that no swarthy blacksmith ever suffered from a few strategically placed sooty smudges.