So I'm counting down the days...October 11 is not only release day for 'When I Fall,' but its the day I fly to New Orleans to Gay Rom! I'm busy with last minute details. And packing. And unpacking...
So, I thought I'd tempt you with a little excerpt from 'An Uncommon Whore 2: When I Fall'. Enjoy!
Blurb:
Sometimes revenge is a kinder fate than justice. – Helios Dayspring
As king, Helios Dayspring is desperate to secure the future of his people and their new homeworld. His memories are slowly returning, bringing with them danger and betrayal. As the king’s consort, Griffin Hawke wrestles with growing isolation from his lover. As Helios’ secrets begin to come to light, he finds that he barely recognizes his lover anymore. Griffin is also haunted by his own secrets, as nightmares bring torture and death to his sleep.
When Helios and Griffin undertake a dangerous journey on behalf of their people, everything they fought for could be lost. Surrounded by enemies and allies, seductive aliens and dangerous operatives, Helios and Griffin find themselves tested to their physical and moral limits. Not knowing who to trust, they can only turn to each other.
Will you be there to catch me when I fall?
Excerpt:
He was on his feet again, crossing the floor to wrap his arms around me. “I am so sorry. Sometimes I forget to guard my tongue around your daughters.”
“It usually isn’t necessary to do so, but Maia’s been plagued by fears lately. It takes little to remind her of those times. Lauren as well.” Tilting my head, I unfastened the high collar of his jacket and then opened it the rest of the way. I slipped it from his body and tossed the expensive garment carelessly to the side. Helios clucked his tongue in disapproval but didn’t pull away.
“Mary will be vexed when she finds that coat wrinkled. I have only the one, you know.” He was smiling again, his humor directed at himself.
“I’ll hang it up later. Besides, you should probably have at least one more.” I leaned down and ran my lips over the smooth surface of his throat. Long ago he’d been inclined to be bristly, with ruddy whiskers by this time of the day. After his time as a slave on Warlan, he’d never grow facial hair again. Body hair either. I cherished the contrast between us; his skin felt like silk against mine. I reached behind him to unfasten the pin that held his hair in the tight knob and let the braids drop free. Then I slipped the bands from the ends of his braids and shook his hair loose. He sighed in relief as it came down.
“Mary enjoys playing with your hair as much as I do.” He leaned against me as I massaged his scalp.
“True, but your hand is gentler than hers. Wearing it so tight gives me a damn headache!” He slipped his arms around my waist, and for the moment, we were quiet. It occurred to me then that these were the moments I needed to harvest for the future. Simple moments of peace, love, and contentment. When I was an old man and looking back or when times once again would become hard, I would think back to holding Helios in my arms and the feeling of supreme happiness that surrounded us.
When he licked the skin of my neck, I suddenly forgot about those good intentions.
Just like that, contentment turned to lust, and I responded in both body and spirit. My fingers were still buried in his hair, so I tilted his head slightly and looked into his face.
What happens when the closeted younger brother of a mob boss falls for the boss's latest acquisition, a rent-boy from Hong Kong?Well that's what Broken, my new m/m romantic suspense is all about. Broken is available from Loose Id now: http://www.loose-id.com/Broken.aspx
Thank you for stopping by and helping me celebrate its release!
Please leave a comment to this post and you'll be entered to win a free copy of Broken. The winner will be announced at the end of the day.
Right now, though, I want to talk about something serious that's very close to my heart and to Belinda's: human trafficking. It's a tragic fact that slavery still exists. Human trafficking is considered to be a low-risk, high-profit crime and according to the United Nations, over twelve million people worldwide are bought and sold for forced labor and sexual exploitation. That's what's happened to Xiu, one of my main characters in Broken.
Fortunately, there's help available for those who, like Xiu, are caught up in the web of commerce and coercion that keeps human trafficking thriving. I want to introduce you to a wonderful organization called Polaris Project <http://www.polarisproject.org/index.php.> Founded in 2002 by two students at Brown University, it is now a leading nonprofit fighting human trafficking and modern-day slavery in the U.S. and around the world. Charity Navigator has awarded Polaris Project with its highest ranking of four stars for three years in a row, acknowledging the organization's commitment to effectively utilizing donations.
Polaris Project takes a comprehensive approach to the problem of human trafficking by providing direct assistance to those in need and helping create systemic changes to combat the crime. They operate a national human trafficking hotline and work to pass federal and state legislation to protect trafficking victims and bring traffickers to justice. Here's a link to just one example of the many ways in which Polaris Project helps people get out of trafficking situations: http://www.polarisproject.org/what-we-do/national-human-trafficking-hotline/the-nhtrc/call-vignettes/476-sex-trafficking-street-prostitution
In recognition of all of the real-life "Xiu's" still struggling for freedom, it feels appropriate to me to donate a portion of my proceeds from Broken's sales to Polaris Project. So, for the first four months of sales, half of what I earn on Broken will be donated to this worthwhile organization.
Please spread the word about Polaris Project and its cause.
I am delighted to celebrate the release day of my new novel, The Scientist and the Supermodel, here with Belinda because it gives me a chance to tell you what a peach she is (in case you didn’t already know.) I am a huge admirer and fan.
So I have a question for Belinda’s readers and my readers and perhaps someone who stumbled on the site by accident and has never read either of us. How do you determine what you read? If you read Belinda’s books, is it because she writes scifi BDSM, because she creates great action and adventure, because there is such depth to her characters, because a lot of her books are male/male, or some combination of the list? And my readers, did you pick up Genetic Attraction, my first book, because it was a ménage or had strong male/male elements, or a powerful heroine, or was considered “HOT!” or something else?
I’ve noticed that when scifi authors or writers of paranormal come to my blog, my readers react enthusiastically, even though they seem to love my contemporary stories. My books have men in love but I know many of my readers also like M/F books. So, the question is – where do you start? When buying a new book, what are the first criteria?
A key criteria for me as I expect it is for you is the author. If I like one book by an author, I’ll try more by the same writer. But how far does that go? If Belinda switches to Regency romance, will you read her anyway? If I turn to “sweet”romances, will you still try my books? In my case, one of my favorite writers is Jet Mykles. I was first introduced to Jet’s paranormal M/F books many years ago. After reading through that whole series, I ordered something called Heaven which turned out to be M/M contemporary. Yikes. That was a departure for me. But I loved the way Jet tells a story, so I read it. Heaven turned out to be heaven for me. I had never read a M/M book and this was a perfect introduction. I loved the dynamic, the flexibility of gender roles, the peek into a man’s vulnerability. At that moment, one of my key criteria became M/M. To this day, I will tend to favor books with at least some M/M elements, although I still read and enjoy M/F.
What about you? I’ve had readers say “I’ve never read M/M before, but you made me a believer.” Chances are if you’re here you like M/M too, but is it a priority in your choices? What about BDSM? Is that where you go first when choosing a book? Belinda likes to build scifi worlds and express in them. I love contemporary formats. I will admit I’m currently writing my first paranormal – but it’s contemporary paranormal. LOL. Do you start with scifi? Paranormal? Contemporary? Is that a first choice? The first time I tried one of Belinda’s books I was choosing to read something by an author I didn’t know in scifi which isn’t my top genre. So why did I choose it? First, it was M/M, a top criteria, AND I saw from the terrific cover that one of the heroes was androgynous – a favorite attraction of mine. Plus, it had an irresistible title. Of course, I’m talking about An Uncommon Whore. Tell us please, what do you read and how do you choose? It’s a wonderful mystery all writers try to solve. And when you comment you’ll be entered in my contest. Here are the rules:
Comment on this blog and leave your email address. I will copy it and enter it in the drawing for the 2 books being given away during this week. One copy of The Scientist and the Supermodel and One copy of Genetic Attraction. You’ll be notified by email if you win. Comment and email, simple.
Here’s MORE CHANCES TO WIN! (more complicated so read closely LOL)
• After you comment here, go to my Book blog http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com. Leave a comment and follow the blog (if you already do follow, it counts). You will be entered in EVERY drawing until the end of the month. Two books will be given away every week and you’ll be entered in all those drawings. (you only have to do this once)
• Go to every blog on my blog tour and leave a comment on the day of the post (or at least in the same week) and you will be entered again during the week in which the post is made.
• The entire blog tour is listed on my websitehttp://www.taralain.com/blog_tour_schedule.html and updates will be posted regularly so check it out. There will also be Yahoo Group chats where I will be giving away other books so watch for those!
Whew!! Remember, you can take each one of these steps and have a bunch of chances to WIN! (You just have to enter, the logistics are my nightmare! LOL) Got it? Leave a comment here. : )
Excerpt R: Tara Lain The Scientist and the Supermodel M/M Erotic Romance
This excerpt occurs when Jake and Roan have both unexpectedly shown up at the same fundraising event and both escorting women. Jake is wildly jealous and is dancing with Roan’s date.
BLURB:
Jake has a mad hidden passion for his older boss, Emmaline Silvay, so why is he getting all hot and bothered when he sees this gorgeous man in a bar? Though Jake thinks of himself as straight, he's been having a lot of trouble getting excited about any of the girls he's dated. He doesn't have any such trouble with the supermodel, which throws his whole world into confusion. Roan Black knows better than to fall for some straight guy, especially a PhD scientist who couldn't possibly be interested in a high school dropout, could he? Well, maybe they can just have sex ....
EXCERPT:
Taking the redhead’s hand, he walked to the dance floor.
Jake was a decent dancer, but his recent dancing experience had only included a six-foot alpha male whose cock stabbed into his abdomen. Alexandra wasn’t all that different -- except for the cock part. About six feet tall in her heels, her body under the slip of a gown was strong and lean with only a hint of the soft roundness Jake associated with femininity. She also smelled heavenly. No perfume, just some sweet almondy scent that wafted around Jake like a cloud.
Even with that tall body pressed tight against him, Jake still had a couple inches on her.
She tilted her head up and whispered in his ear, “So you’re my lover’s lover.”
Torn. Should he strangle her or throw her on the ground and fuck her? She had a powerful magnetism; he’d give her that. “In what way is he your lover?” He could hear the anger in his own voice.
“Jealous, lover?”
“Should I be?”
She gave him a steady stare with those ice blue eyes. “Actually, no.”
“Does that mean you’re not his lover?”
“No, it doesn’t mean that. It simply means that the boy is crazy about you.”
Jake felt himself tense. Of course, she felt it too and gave him a cool stare. “I hope you can handle that, lover boy, because nobody gets to hurt Roan with me around.”
He stared her down for a minute, but she didn’t waver, and he was the first to look away. “I’m trying, really, but this is all new to me.”
“He said you’ve always been straight.”
“Yeah.”
She nodded her head to where they’d left Laney with his parents. “Who’s the little ingénue?”
“Just a friend.”
“You fucking her?”
“No!”
She laughed. “A little defensive, are we? You using her for cover?”
“No! I just needed a date for this shindig, and I thought of her. What about you? Aren’t you with Roan to promulgate the fiction that he’s straight?”
“Partly. But I was in town, and we always get together when I’m here or he’s in Paris. My trip just happened to coincide with this event he was committed to attend, so I came with him.”
Jake gritted his teeth. “You always get together? Why? To fuck?” He could feel his hands tightening on her.
She pressed her body tight against him and whispered in his ear. “Yes, to fuck. And to suck, and to do everything a man and a woman can do together. Do you hate it that your boyfriend likes girls too, just like you do?”
“Yes. I…hate…it.”
She pulled back and looked at him. “Wow, you really are jealous, aren’t you? My beautiful boy really gets you going.” She ground her hips against him. “I can feel how hard you are.”
She was right. He wanted to hate her, but she was so damned sexy, and the fact that she loved and defended Roan jumbled them together in his hormone-clouded mind.
“Yeah.”
She leaned into him again. “Don’t you love that gorgeous, huge cock of Roan’s?”
Jake could barely breathe. “Yeah.”
She was whispering directly into his ear, the breath sending goose bumps down his arms and shocks to his balls. “It doesn’t hurt you when he pushes that huge dick into your ass?”
Jake tensed at the question. Alex leaned back to look at his face. “I see. You’re a top.” Then she snuggled back against him and resumed her breathy whisper. “That makes sense, I guess. You’re mostly straight, and he’s really submissive. He loves to take it in the ass.” Her hips pressed into his. “But don’t forget, pretty boy, he still loves to fuck. You gotta let him do it to you some, or he won’t be satisfied. Let him stick that cock in. I can tell you firsthand, Jake, it’s a treat you just can’t miss.”
Too much. Jake’s breath was ragged, and he was about to ruin his tux trousers with a gallon of cum.
She pressed harder so she was practically riding his erection, and he was too far gone to care who was watching. “You love that idea, don’t you, baby? Or is it me turning you on? C’mon, Jake. Tell me the truth. Is it just the idea of Roan fucking you making you rock hard, or does little Alex get your juices flowing too?”
Tara Lain never met a beautiful boy she didn’t love – at least on paper. A writer of erotic romance, mostly ménage and male/male, Tara loves all her characters, but especially her handsome heroes. A lifelong writer of serious non-fiction, Tara only fell in love with EROM in 2009 and, through perseverance and lots of workshops, had the first novel she ever wrote accepted for publication in 2010. She’s now on book six. After an exotic life of travel all over the world and work in television, education and advertising, Tara settled in Southern California with her soul-mate husband and opened her own small marketing business. She paints, collages, and started practicing yoga “way before it was fashionable”. Passionate about diversity, justice, inclusion and new ideas she says on her tombstone it will read, “Yes”.
For more information about Tara, her books and social networks, visit her at:
Well, since the Doms of Dark Haven anthology has been so popular, we've decided to give the book its own site! Drop by and visit, we'll all be posting there on occasion. :)
Lukas Blacque is a deeply closeted werewolf, and more than almost anything in life, he desires his neighbor, Oliver Bleu. Oliver is a vampire who is slowly dying from insomnia. More than anything, he needs Lukas Blacque and the rich blood that flows through his veins.
On the day that Blacque makes an important commitment to his family and pack, he succumbs to temptation and spends a passionate weekend with the alluring vampire. At sunset on Friday, it’s all about urgent lust and the drive to lose his virginity. When the sun rises on Monday, lust has shifted to love and devotion. Will he be able to walk away?Will Bleu let him go?
In Blacque’s world, vampires and werewolves make uneasy bedfellows, and a gay werewolf is an impossibility. In Bleu’s world, all living creatures are little more than vessels for food and sex. But in the mysterious and magical town of Arcada, rules are broken and the unexpected is always waiting right around the corner. Can Blacque and Bleu survive long enough for Arcada’s magic to work for them?
With a choked cry, he woke from the nightmare, still frozen in place, but instead of horrified screams and the roar of artillery fire, he heard the muffled sound of a man’s deep voice and the haunting melody of southern rock on the radio. Lynyrd Skynyrd soothed him with “Free Bird” as the burns on his face faded and the blisters were absorbed back into his skin. He took a chance and drew breath, pleased when he didn’t choke.
The dream had released him, but Bleu was still trapped, held immobile by the presence of the sun. His limbs were heavy, and the mattress under his back felt rough and lumpy. He labored through another heavy breath and sighed, just for the sake of hearing something other than the fading sound of battle in his ears.
He didn’t have the refined sense of time some vampires possessed. He only knew the sun was still up and that he was awake and aware, though weary. He wondered how many more hours it would be until he could rise and return to the night. He wondered how much longer he had until fatigue crippled him and he starved or fell victim to a bigger, stronger predator.
If he could have laughed, he would have. Oliver Bleu was undoubtedly the only vampire on the face of the earth who suffered from chronic insomnia.
Resigning himself to the long day ahead, he closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds of the day outside his resting place.
* * * * *
For whatever reason, the muddy, greasy undercarriage of the battered Studebaker held a lot more appeal to Lukas Blacque than the flashing light on his answering machine. He’d listened to the voice on the other end of the line and then cranked up the radio before pushing himself under the car on a rickety old creeper. He knew who was calling. He simply didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
Since he’d been a kid, cars had been his solace. He’d tagged along with his grandpa to auto shows, and then in high school had escaped from the drama of daily life in the shelter of the auto shop. His reputation as a tough had been hard earned even then. It had bought him distance from the cheerleaders and the jocks who wanted to be his friends. It had kept him safe from the curiosity of the kids in the new high school in the town he had moved to. He played sports because he loved to, but didn’t necessarily cherish being dragged into the limelight at every pep rally and homecoming dance.
He’d done his duty and gone on to college to earn his business degree. He’d come home to Arcada and surprised everyone by buying old man Foster’s garage, located in a small industrial park. Blacque had followed his dream and now made a modest living bringing old cars and trucks back to the artistic beauty of their prime.
He hummed along to an old Allman Brothers song as he worked before cursing briefly as chunks of mud and rust flaked away, showering his face with grit. In all, he was in his happy place, working on his own terms and on his own time. Could you see a tattooed, pierced guy like him in a nine-to-five office? Not likely. Mated, with kids? Even less so. And what his old man was proposing in the numerous voice mails he’d left lately? No fucking way. He’d heard enough to know he didn’t want to hear more.
He groped for a tool, taking pleasure in working on something simple. This old lady was his, the project car of his dreams. His days were spent with sleek new cars that ran on electronics and computer chips. You pushed a button to raise the window, and another button engaged the locks. If something went screwy, it took an advanced degree in technology to figure out the problem. But this old Studebaker was all simple elegance and efficiency.
When he finished her, he’d send her out for new paint and upholstery. He’d seen the work that Bleu next door was capable of; maybe he could talk his neighbor into doing custom leather seats. That is, if he was still around. Every time he saw the vamp, the poor guy looked sicker. He wondered if vampires were inclined to contracting some sort of blood-borne virus or something, ’cause hot as the man might be, he was looking pretty ragged these days. He’d been a sight to behold when he’d first opened his shop a few years ago. He was still sexy in his heroin-chic way. These days he had a drawn, elegant beauty that tugged at Blacque’s protective nature. He doubted the aristocratic vamp would welcome a big wolf like himself as a guardian. But he kept an eye on the man when he could, worried about him when he couldn’t. He figured one of these days Bleu simply wouldn’t wake when the sun went down. It would be a damn pity.
Maybe when he lay down in his coffin at night, his cheeks were flushed with blood. Blacque usually saw him at dusk, just as the sun was setting. Of course, that would be the start of Bleu’s day. Blacque was never at his best in the morning either. Maybe once Bleu fed, he returned to the glossy picture of health he’d been a few years back.
The player switched to Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Blacque kept his groove, carefully examining the exhaust system of the car. He heard the shop door swing open but ignored it. He had flipped the sign over to CLOSED. He was on his own time now.
Footsteps echoed through the bay, and he cursed softly, remembering that Davey had gone home at five. There was no line of defense between Blacque and whoever was intruding into his world. And thoughts of Bleu had taken their usual effect on his body -- he was hard as a rod inside his old, worn jeans.
He glanced toward his feet and saw slender legs in a pair of bright red fuck-me heels. He imagined long legs that went on for a mile and most likely were revealed by an exquisitely made skirt that seemed to show everything but in reality showed nothing at all.
He sighed.
One red-clad foot nudged his.
“Hey, sexy. Come on out and play.” Her voice was smooth as fine whiskey, low pitched, and seductive. Blacque rolled his eyes.
“Hey, Dru. Gimme a sec.”
Drusilla. What had their mother been thinking when she filled out the birth certificate? Drusilla Blacque sounded like a damn pretentious TV vampire, not a werewolf.
Digging in with his battered work boots, he then slid the creeper out from under the car and sat up, looking as if he’d been showered with grit. He grinned as his sister hopped back. She wouldn’t want to get her pretty suit all dirty.
“So.” She stood back, hands on her hips, her head cocked to the side. “This is what you do for fun?”
“After hours. Project car.” Blacque scrambled to his feet and headed for a workbench to dip his hand into a tin of degreaser. He smeared the stuff over his fingers and nails, blatantly ignoring Dru as she waited impatiently.
He finally wiped his hands on a red rag and turned to face his sister. He imagined they made an interesting contrast -- Dru in her neat black suit and he in his dirty jeans and sleeveless work shirt. Her thick black hair was neatly coiled into some sort of elegant bun, while he kept his hair shaved close to the scalp. He looked her over slowly.
“Can’t believe they let you teach school dressed like that.”
She raised an arched black brow at him. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
He snorted. She knew damn well what she looked like. No doubt she had hordes of horny teenage boys tied up in knots on a daily basis.
“And I don’t teach anymore. I’m the high school vice principal now.”
“I knew that.” And he did. He’d even sent her a little bouquet of flowers when she got the job. He had to wonder if she kept a neat black cane hidden under her desk. She probably had volunteers lining up to take their punishment.
Blacque leaned back against the old car, propping his ass on the hood. Outside the vapor lights had come on in the parking lot. He hadn’t realized it was so late. Bleu should be up and stirring soon. He didn’t see him much these days.
“So, are we supposed to do something tonight?” He frowned, trying to remember if he’d missed an appointment.
“You got Dad’s calls? He said he’s just getting your voice mail.”
“I got the alpha’s calls.” He pushed off the car and headed to his little office. “I’m busy. Business is good. Can’t take every personal call that comes in.” Blacque dropped into the ancient chair in front of his computer. He winced at the Mail icon on the toolbar. The old man was determined, wasn’t he? Blacque glanced up at his sister, and he knew by the look on her face that he didn’t want to hear what she had to say. He leaned back in the chair and propped a booted foot on the scarred surface of the desk.
“If you had come to the meeting on Sunday night, you’d have an idea what’s so important.”
She brushed off the chair across the desk from him and sat. Outside the stereo switched to Willie Nelson. Automatically his mind reached for the music, letting it lull him just the tiniest bit. His sister looked damn relaxed, crossing one long leg over the other.
“Okay, Dru. I’m braced. What’s so damn important that the alpha is calling me a dozen times a day?”
“Our father has decided to drop restrictions on breeding for the next few seasons. That’s what’s so damn important, Lukas. He’s decided we need fresh swimmers in the gene pool.”
Blacque snorted. It was about time. His father had been dropping pups into the community like confetti for a couple of decades now. Their birth certificates might read father unknown, but he claimed every one of his offspring. Not a one could complain that Dane Blacque ignored his children.
“Well, we’re off the hook. The two of us are hardly fresh blood.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Or are you disappointed? All the other males are practically humping air, they’re so excited.”
He put his hands behind his head and studied the ceiling, where a cobweb waved in the breeze. He’d have to knock it down when she left.
“Never really thought about having kids before.”
“Well start thinking, Sparky. Dad wants grandkids. Specifically, he wants your grandkids. And mine.” She added the latter as though it were an afterthought, prompting Blacque to look at her. She sounded resigned and doleful.
Blacque dropped his feet and leaned forward. He’d been right; her face was a bit downcast. She didn’t look happy. He knew why he wasn’t interested in the whole circus, but what was up with his sister?
“Again. You and I are his direct offspring. If he wants fresh blood, there are other males out there.”
Dru met his gaze. “Our mother was an outsider. That’s where the fresh blood comes in.”
“Fuck,” he whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Dru folded her arms, glaring at Blacque. “I don’t know why you’re upset. All you’ve got to do is poke a few women and make babies. You can walk away. I, on the other hand, get to look forward to morning sickness and nine months of bloat, followed by a couple of decades of dependents on my tax form.”
“Damn. I think you’re a bit upset by this.” He did his best to hide his smile. It was rare to see Drusilla this distressed about anything. She was the ultimate crisis manager.
She stood, tried to pace, but the office was too small. She dropped back into her chair and clenched her fists. “Damn straight I’m upset!”
“You gonna do it?” He was curious how far her rebellion would run. Dru had always maintained a warm relationship with their father. She rarely bucked his authority. Blacque, on the other hand, had always tried to keep his distance. The old man saw far too much. He was far too perfect compared to his eldest son. Dane Blacque was everything an alpha werewolf should be and then some. Blacque? Well, he’d never measure up. And it pissed him off that he felt that way. He pulled himself away from his thoughts and focused on his sister.
“I have a good career, Lukas. I’ve been accepted into a doctoral program in education. My new position pays well. But… I suppose…”
“What’ll the school board think when you put in for maternity leave?”
She shot to her feet again. “Shit! Damn! I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Well, lots of women have babies without fathers these days. I’m sure the board will be perfectly understanding.” As he watched his sister fuming over her situation, Blacque had to congratulate himself for turning the conversation around so smoothly. He loved his sister and trusted her to a degree. But even the most tolerant among the pack would have difficulty with the sort of secret Blacque had carried all his life.
Fluid sexuality wasn’t uncommon among their kind -- males paired up for brief encounters, and females frequently had intense, passionate relationships. But in all his life, Blacque had never encountered another like himself. So, much as he loved her, he could never tell his sister he was gay.
