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About the author:
P.M. Fox studied Creative Writing at the University of Minnesota and writes in several genres including fiction, erotica, screenplays and memoir.
What inspired you to write your book?
Living in Los Angeles for 2 years, seeing all the people trying to make their dream happen and some of the extremes they have to take.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“Let’s talk about that when we get back to your place.” James wanted to wait for two reasons, safety from police that may be lurking was the first reason. The second was that he wanted to access the guy’s place and see how well-off he was or wasn’t and price accordingly.
Howard led him up a steep driveway, to a bungalow with immaculately kept bushes on the front yard that acted like a fence.
The inside was all dark hardwood floors and chocolate-colored walls with white accents, such as the curtains and some of the furniture. James knew enough about antiques to know that Howard had some valuable ones, his asking price just got higher than when they first met on the street.
James kissed Howard, slowly and gently. Their kiss broke up and Howard looked at him until James had to glance away. “Money…”
“Whatever you want,” Howard says quietly.
“I’m a hustler, Howard, in every sense of the word.”
“I don’t care.” Howard took his hand, leading him into the bedroom. The walls were covered with photos of Hollywood’s male elite: Gregory Peck, Marlon Brando, Cary Grant, Burt Lancaster, Steve McQueen and James Dean, of course.
“Wow, those are amazing photos.”
“Fetishes?” James asks. He’s referring to the vast list of kink he’s encountered since he literally had become the product himself: scat, golden showers, feet, porn, animals, bondage, submission/domination, sadomasochism, voyeurism, blindfolding, handcuffs, and affixation.
“You’re looking at it,” he indicates the pictures.
“Wow, you’re just a regular queer guy? I’m afraid I don’t believe it. Just be up front with me. I don’t want you to start fucking me then suddenly pull out a whip or something.”