Friday, June 16, 2017


The problem with mixing things that were not conceived together is all the confusions they could originate.

The colors on the RAINBOW FLAG associated with the LGBT+ community were conceived as reflections of the joy of being human, in essence including all human beings regardless of skin color, religious beliefs, or political affiliations.

Why do we need to bring skin colors into this situation? Our community is already hated across the board by those who consider us abominations, looneys, and every other epithet you can think of. Do we really need to bring this illogical division right now, when the world is going to hell in a handbasket and the only people that seemed cohesively united were us?

First of all, when you add something that already has a meaning as it stands, your addition should enhance it, not bring discord. The moment you see it complicating things, you should stop. But that is not what’s happening here. Those who came with the idea of adding stripes representing two skin colors (immediately dismissing the other skin colors they are not including) rather argue and fight and be offended than backtrack and say “You know what? Perhaps this is not the time for this.”

Why bother? I have an idea and it’s mine and I’m gonna force it on you because I can. That’s exactly why we have the head of state we have now because no one took a step back and had the courage to say, “Oops this is not going to work.”

Let’s talk about the meanings of colors for a minute. Each culture has a different meaning for all the colors. In many places, brides were white implying purity. In many others, brides were red for good luck. So if you were raised where brides wear white, and all of the sudden you see a bride wearing red, you will question the meaning of that until you learn what it signifies for that bride and her culture. That’s just an example, and I could give you a thousand more. Very few things are truly standard globally, and the meaning of colors is surely not one of them.

Now, the RAINBOW FLAG embraces humanity and its emotions, not skin colors. If you add two colors, those colors will not mean skin tones at first glance because that’s not how the flag was conceived. Those proposing the new stripes will simply be adding the emotions associated with those colors. If you see the color black, your first thought is not going to be a skin color (no flag in the world uses black to represent skin color). And the emotions that black brings as a color are not necessarily the most positives, so that could be a handicap from the get-go. Same thing happens with brown, and I’m going to let you do your own associations.

I will not even try to express the disappointment I feel, seeing our community fighting over something that shouldn’t have even started. LGBT+ people of all skin tones suffer. Starting a fight over who suffers more is incongruent with what we’re fighting for as a group. We, as a community, have more mixed couples and families than any other like-minded group, and yet we’re disrupting the united front we should be forming because of skin tones.

Some proponents say, “But it doesn’t take anything from the flag.” That is not a reason to make additions to what is already established. As humans we are selfish, but many times we learn to share. This doesn’t seem to be the case.

This moment smells like a case of IF YOU ARE NOT WITH ME, YOU ARE AGAINST ME.

And that is very CHEETO smell.

#rainbowflag #colors #controversy #moveforward #stophating #loveislove #LGBT #newstripes #pride #embrace #lovehasnocolor #enough #stop #behuman #forgetyourcolor #betteryourself #bekind #respect #loveyourself #loveothers #prayfortheworld #goodvibes #humans #love #kindness #forgiveness #understanding #peace #wisdom #knowledge #history #humanity #breakyourchains

Friday, June 9, 2017


The Seer of Paoha Island is such a great character, and I had so much fun writing about *insert nonspecific gender pronoun here*— a separate story might happen. Well, technically it will happen since I was smacked with a title and everything: TO DIVINE LOVE.

Now, the thing with the Seer of Paoha Island is that *insert nonspecific gender pronoun here* assumes whatever form: it could be any gender, any age, any race. Nevertheless, in CLOCKWORK VENDETTA *insert nonspecific gender pronoun here* came out with the form in the picture. A young hunky ginger, and that form is ready to fall in love. Probably a short story to kill time between books, who knows!

TO DIVINE LOVE has been registered in #TheBookOfTitles, so it is a latent promise.

#fiction #mmromance #gay #shortstories #magic #paranormal #fantasy #iamwriting #menofgabbo #seer #ginger #instafab #genderswap 

Saturday, June 3, 2017


How many rings are used in a three-way handfasting ceremony?

a) four
b) three
c) nine
d) six

I’m not saying we’re going to have one of those (I’m not saying we’re not either), but it is always good to know in case someone asks.

If you have read my books, you should know.

You’ll need to wait until one of those ceremonies happens (it might not) to find out if you haven’t.


Saturday, May 20, 2017


La idea de traducir al castellano WAND-LOSING & OTHER THINGS YOU SHOULDN’T BE DOING me ha estado rondando desde hace rato. El problema (como podrán observar desde el principio) es el pedazo de título que tiene la historia.

Yo soy el primero en soltar barbaridades cuando veo traducciones de títulos poco inspiradas como LOS JUEGOS DEL HAMBRE o LAS CINCUENTA SOMBRAS DE GREY, pues los títulos de estos libros literalmente significan mucho más de lo que la simplista traducción al castellano implica.

Así que ya ven que para mí no es fácil, soltar una traducción titular como PERDIENDO VARITAS Y OTRAS COSAS QUE TU NO DEBES HACER porque legalmente suena un poco pendeja, aparte de que es aún más larga que la propia en inglés (bueno solo una palabra extra, pero ya era una verborrea para empezar).

Por lo tanto, he barajeado un par de ideas, y me gustaría que ustedes den su opinión, no sólo sobre las opciones que presento, sino las que se les ocurran, porque yo siempre ando abierto a las posibilidades.

Visiten mi cuenta de Instagram para que vean las opciones.

Ahora, volviendo al caso de la traducción… cuando yo escribo en inglés trato de usar un inglés universal más allá de regionalismos (a menos que el personaje sea de un lugar específico, como por ejemplo el sur de los Estados Unidos de América), pero la cosa se complica cuando pensamos en castellano.

Solo el “fuck me” lo decimos de un montón de maneras diferentes. ¿Entonces de qué versión del castellano me agarro? Si pongo “follame” me tocar tirarme todo desde la península. Si pongo “cógeme” (que para mí sería la opción menos regionalista) habrá quien se confunda pensado que significa otra cosa… Se me ocurre que podría usar un eufemismo como “párteme” o “rómpeme” pero eso no siempre es factible con algunos protagonistas porque sencillamente suena ridículo o contrario a la esencia de la persona. 

Ya veremos.

#WLOTYSBD #títulos #ficción #traducción #español #gay #bilingüe #hombres #men #fiction #castellano #escritoresdeinstagram #iamwriting #escribiendo #authorsofinstagram #gabbodelaparra #opciones #options 

Monday, May 1, 2017


May 1st is a magical day. Known as May Day, but also as Beltane, it's the day when pagans celebrate the return of the sun after its winter imprisonment.

Here's a little bit of Magic Mischief from SEPTIMA LUNA.

“You can say the words in any language, as long as you visualize the doors opening and what army you want out.”

“What if I say banana and imagine the door, ma’am?”

“It doesn’t work that way because banana doesn’t mean door in any language.”
The infuriated emoticon in her mental text was about to explode. Angel could see the vein throbbing on her temple.

“And what army do I want again, ma’am?”

Angel noticed her effort not to stamp her foot and slap him. He was on his knees (after all), making a diagram to produce the doors of the gate on the temple’s ground with a broken piece of clay from what he assumed was an ancient pot at the appropriate distance to receive the hit.

“You want the Spartan Army that defeated Xerxes.”

“Oh my, like the movie?”

She almost growled, “Angel, after Leonidas was killed, the elders used a gate to summon an army. I need you to focus on the elders’ requested spiritual army.”

Many spotlights had been rearranged to illuminate the area where Angel worked, obliterating the full moon above them. It made him sweat like the proverbial pig, even if he knew for a fact that real pigs didn’t sweat a lot, and that’s why they wallow in the fucking mud so happily.

But a go-go boy was used to being in the limelight, so in a Septima Luna’s-fifteen-minute-break moment of inspiration, he took off his shirt and flung it triumphantly toward one of the armed trolls on his periphery. It landed on his helmet (like an ill-fitting mantilla), and Angel saw the other guards’ trembling shoulders trying to hold their laughter at their comrade’s expense.

Angel scratched his head, pasting the most puzzled face he could command. “Ma’am?”

“What now?”

“If this open sesame thing works, what am I doing with the army again?”

“You’re getting on my last nerve.” She made a signal, and the guards flanking Malachi kicked him on the back of his knees and Malachi crumbled. The butt of a machine gun found his head. “If you have a shred of intelligence within you, you’ll stop your nonsense right this second.”

Angel sprang and poked Tau's sternum with his forefinger. “Listen carefully, you sodding bitch. They touch him again, and the only coordinates that fucking army is going to find is inside your bleached ass. Let him go.” He marched toward Malachi and pushed the helmet-covered faces of the two guards with his hands, making them stagger in their surprise.

By the time every guard reacted and all weapons aimed at them, Tau yelled, “Don’t.”

Malachi wobbled, helped by Angel, toward where the doors had been drawn. “He stays by my side, and you control your gorillas,” he hissed when she was within hearing distance. “Or I’ll use your own weapons against you.”

The pallor on her face showed she had understood loud and clear. She nodded, her eyes narrowed and menacing.

“Are you all right, sweetie?” Angel let Malachi crouch beside him.

“Where is your heavy accent?”

“Gone with the bitch, darlin’.”

Malachi’s chuckle squeezed Angel’s heart. His resolution to destroy Juggernaut grew firmer. He would use their own army to destroy their headquarters and every single motherfucker inside it. The twenty thousand possessed soldiers would make the place confetti in seconds, and then he simply sent back the spiritual army to limbo or released them of their duty, whatever stroked his fancy by the time it was done.

“You.” Angel pointed at Tau, his eyes narrowed too. “Move away. Your face irritates me.”
She glared at him and stepped backward until she was stopped by Martan holding her upper arms and keeping her plastered against his massive chest. She resisted for a second, then stood motionless but never defeated; her furious scowl screamed it.

Using up the abandoned piece of clay, Angel united the bottom lines of the traced opening. He put a hand on each door and concentrated.

“Open, gate of wonders, and bring me the ghost army the elders of Sparta summoned to avenge the death of Leonidas at Thermopylae. The soul of revered Antinous Ephebus, beloved of Publius Aelius Traianus Hadrianus Augustus commands it.”

Angel chanted this for a while, deciding to hold Malachi’s hand and visualizing immense doors (like a cathedral’s) slowly moving open to spill their secrets, over and over again.

A rumor similar to a billion exhausted sighs resonated around them. The clay-outlining emanated a golden glow, its light becoming brighter and brighter by the second, and the ground shook. More than side to side, it trembled in an up and down undulating exhalation.

Until that moment, something inside Angel had hoped this hinky situation was just a bunch of malarkey. That everything was nothing but the opium dreams of mad people. Now, as the earth spread, spewing a vomit green glare, Angel steeled his heart to conquer his destiny (definitively not the time to poop his pants), because the screeches coming from the gate were bloodcurdling.

It was Julius Caesar who said “no one is so brave that he isn’t disturbed by something unexpected”, and this shit surely was bewildering.

The first ghostly figure emerged amidst the puke-like radiance, nothing was discernible but a head and shoulders— the rest of the body was an elongated amoeba.  Angel shouted, “The soul of revered Antinous Ephebus, beloved of Publius Aelius Traianus Hadrianus Augustus, commands you.”

With a short bow, the apparition acknowledged him and floated toward him, giving berth to the next surfacing soul. The yelp of the first stricken guard made Angel lose some of his concentration, and as more guards fell to the rattling ground, he heard it above the shrieks from the opening.

In similar but green SWAT outfits, men zip lined from almost silent hovercrafts. Malachi gurgled, hit by something and let go of Angel’s grasp, his hands searching his neck. Angel forgot about the spirits and the door and the destruction of Juggernaut, Malachi could not leave him there like that.

“Kai!” Angel beat Malachi’s chest with closed fists. “No, no, no.”

Someone grabbed Angel by the waist; he thrashed and kicked, screaming to return to Malachi. Was that blood on Malachi’s mouth? No, this couldn’t be happening. He would go insane.

As he was pulled to a hovercraft, he saw the green SWATS overpowering the black SWATS. The first luminous apparition did something that Angel could only associate with a shrug and returned to the glowing hole, pushing the other entities down as if they were impertinent children trying to escape a radiantly fenced play yard. The gate morosely closed, its creepy lights and noises becoming mute. 

The Neolithic stone complex turned into an amorphous shadow below him. He could not find a trace of Martan or the countess; he could only distinguish Malachi’s unmoving body at an odd angle in the middle of the chaos, shrinking until it was nothing but the luminous drop of a bad memory.

“It will be fine.” The man holding him said in what Angel supposed was a soothing voice; as comforting as a voice coming through a tricked-out motorcycle helmet could be.

Still, the voice seemed familiar, but Angel didn’t care.

As Angel was tucked into the back of a hovercraft, all he wanted was for this to be his day to leave the land of the living and be back on Mnajdra, dying beside Malachi.

*Get your free copy of SEPTIMA LUNA here

Friday, April 21, 2017


For those familiar with Magical Realism, the title of this post would ring a bell since it echoes LOVE IN THE TIME OF CHOLERA by Garcia Marquez, and I’m gonna spoil the end for you, it does have a happily ever after, even if the road there was beyond rocky (it was frankly torturous).

Now, a friend of mine used that expression when we were commenting about the recent breakup of two porn stars. It’s truly sad that every time two (or more) people involved in porn start a public relationship a not malicious but severely real countdown begins.

I like porn, but it is also part of my research as an erotic romance writer, and, in all my years following and enjoying that craft, I have not seen a porn couple or throuple last more than two straight years.

“Straight” as in continuous not heterosexual.

I know gay men are complicated, heck humans are complicated, yet sadly, we seem to be more incapable of commitment that other people. Nevertheless, my extensive research into the human nature and love conditions has shown me that usually, jealousy is a big component of breakups. And in all fairness and realness, jealousy is the grotesque child of insecurity.

Call it whatever you want, but you cannot be jealous unless you are insecure. When you are sure of who you are and who the person beside you is, there is no reason for jealousy. And jealousy is also a cousin of control issues, even if you want to try to make it feel more like a distant long lost relative— they are very effing close.

A very smart lady told me once, long before same-sex marriage was even on the map anywhere in the globe, that gay men made a life together because they wanted it since there were no papers or children to tie them up. Her words were not just wise but inspiring. And that is one of the reasons I believe jealousy is insecurity because nothing ties another man to me more than his own decision to be beside me; it doesn’t matter if that decision is based on love or something else. Heck, love has levels, and you never love the same way (or with the same intensity) twice; simply because not two human beings are the same, ergo you cannot repeat love.

But coming back to porn couples which are the real topic of this post, here insecurity and jealousy have hate sex to create a messed up hybrid that always becomes a murderer. In many cases, Dude One is already doing porn when he meets Dude Two and they “fall in love” with the almost immediate consequence of Dude Two starting to do porn too. Nothing wrong with that, if Dude Two has the balls and confidence to play that field because it is not easy in the same way an open relationship is not for everyone; it takes a very healthy dose of cojones and confidence (totally making this a title for a book Cojones & Confidence) to be in an open relationship, so it’s even heavier to be with a person who not only fucks other people but do so for the entertainment of millions of strangers.

To say that jealousy is natural is to deny humans’ ability to be reasonable. Do you think the husband of any actress cheers when his wife kisses another man on screen? I don’t think he cheers, but I am pretty sure he does not feel jealousy (or shouldn’t at least) because it is her job, especially if she had it before they met.

Obviously doing porn is the far, very nasty extreme of that situation, but it completely applies. You shouldn’t be jealous of a situation that existed before you arrived, and if you accepted it at the beginning why change your mind mid journey and make a fucking mess?

True, many people enter a relationship with the (sometimes not conscious) plan to change the other person. This in itself is, if you want to use business terms, “cause for immediate dismissal.” The whole concept of entering a relationship with an agenda, beyond that of make yourself and the other person happy, should instantly handicap your eligibility for a relationship. It’s not fair for the other person or yourself because when you cannot accomplish that “transformative” goal you become a bitter, nagging, horrible piece of whining crap. No one needs that kind of shite in their lives.

But again, in the world of porn, this situation is even more evident and sad. Porn is a micro cosmos in the same way Hollywood stardom is, and many people get invested in these relationships because they give us something that is fantasy and (in many cases) hope. Many fans would see it as a beacon of possibilities: if these men who earn their living fucking on camera can make it, how I (who do it in the confines of my bedroom) cannot?

We see ourselves in the successful relationships of these handsome men, and when they don’t work it affects us both consciously and unconsciously because every time your idols fail a part of you also fails.

Not all humans have the strength to sort fantasy from reality; you just need to see the rants and hate on Social Media when public figures breakup or do something people at large consider untoward. We don’t know these public figures; heck probably you have never been in the same breathing space of these people, but you defend or hate them passionately because they are a reflection of what you hope to be. That is not a bad thing, but it becomes a stupid thing when you turn your whole life upside-down for something that (in the end) doesn’t have anything to do with you or your reality.

But that passion turns back to jealousy, insecurity, and control issues. We adore these people, but we are also jealous of them, and they make us feel insecure, and we hope we could control them. Not a healthy mix if you ask me.

It is not even know how to compartmentalize; it is to accept that we should not be invested in something we cannot change or control. We cannot change other people, whether celebrities or love ones. We cannot (and should not) control others— unnatural is one of the many words to describe that unfortunate scenario.

When you truly love, you accept. You also need to know how much you can accept for your own sake because the idea is not to become a yes man and take whatever crap the other person wants to give you; a relationship is something that goes both (and sometimes three) ways.

Before you can accept and respect another human being, you must be able to accept and respect yourself. When you become capable of that, you won’t be insecure, jealous, or controlling.

Let’s hope all porn stars get their happily ever after because they are human beings just like you and me.


#love #porn #socialmedia #hate #reality #fantasy #control #jealousy #humans

Wednesday, April 12, 2017


Apparently, since The Alpha’s Gifts, the Triads have been having conversations (I honestly don’t want to use the word debates here) amongst them and decided to change the schedule of the upcoming books. So far, I don’t know the final lineup, only that CLOCKWORK VENDETTA is the one to open the year… and they have me seriously working on it… *wink wink*

#fiction #ebook #gay #threesome #yearofthetriads  #steampunk #mmromance #menofgabbo #iamwriting #gabbodelaparra