Male-Male Erotica And Why Women Like Them

It was a bit of a surprise to me when I had to realize guys have no idea why women actually like to read novels with male-male relationships. I’ve been on a binge recently myself (which seems to wind down a little now) and was positively surprised at the good novels I found for the read (see my last three reviews - one for the “Agents Irish and Whiskey” series might follow). Why am I surprised that men are surprised at women loving those stories, especially the erotica? Because I thought the reason should be obvious.

A lot of men apparently enjoy lesbian porn movies and I do get it - they can watch two women getting it on, so they essentially get two for the price of one instead of having to watch another guy going down on a woman. Funnily enough, that’s pretty much the reason why women like gay erotica: two good-looking guys getting it on. Yes, with novels or novellas, it’s in our heads, not on our screens (technically also on them, erotica of every kind had a huge boost with the e-book market), but it’s still the same principle. Women have gone for written erotica and porn instead of movies for a long time - and the market for us still isn’t big, although the idea that women need completely different porn isn’t correct. We usually have the necessary imagination for the novels or novellas, so we can read them in peace, even in the subway or on the bus - which is why e-books made the erotica market explode, since nobody can see what you’re reading on your device of choice.

When I look at the various books I’ve read during my binge, from “The Henchmen of Zenda” by K.J. Charles to “Trick Play” by Eden Finley, I see a lot of different styles, settings, and pairings. I also see a lot of interesting books which are not ‘only’ love stories, but integrate the love story with thrillers, adventure yarn, or other genres. What all have in common (it seems like I had a good hand for that when choosing my novels), is that they do a very, very good job with the sex scenes, making them realistic (including lube, preparations and, where already widely available, condoms) and very well written. They have gotten to me emotionally, making me worry for the main characters. They have had me on the edge of my seat, giving me that ‘one more chapter’ feeling which can keep you up well after your usual hours just to see how it ends. And they have all featured love stories between men.

My very first dip into that sub-genre of romance was with the shonen ai manga “Bronze” (which isn’t one of my favourites these days, there’s a lot of problematic stuff in there). Here in Germany, it was the first ‘boys’ love’ story published (at least manga-wise) and I enjoyed it a lot. Afterwards, I found better stories in series like “New York, New York,” “Fake,” or “Kitsuna” (all of which survived my manga purge before my move). For a long time, manga were the only source of that kind of story, then I got internet access and binged fan fiction, which included lots of slash stories. With the rise of the e-book, I’ve also bought the occasional male-male erotica (starting with some stuff from Morgan Hawke, enjoying her male-male stories more than the ‘regular’ story I bought as well - I especially like “Tempestuous”).

And why that stuff? Why not your regular bodice ripper? For one reason, I don’t really like those and never did. They are full of helpless damsels who fall into the arms of their saviour and, in erotica, also into his bed. The danger of that happening in male-male pairings is much lower. Of course, there’s usually the ‘angst’ topic - both thinking the other one must be straight and they’re lusting after the wrong person. But sooner or later they break through it and things get moving. The “Agents Irish and Whiskey” series did away with the angst in the first novel and built up tension with other factors in the other two (the series finished in three books). I like such stories much more than your melodramatic ‘star-crossed lovers’ stuff which features heavily in so many romance novels. It’s not that those male-male erotica don’t have any of that stuff, but they usually don’t have as much. In addition, the main leads usually are on a more even level than in many male-female love stories.

Women do like male-male erotica and romance a lot. We can simply put ourselves into the characters, if we want to, and enjoy the picture of two good-looking guys getting into bed with each other (in the erotica at least). The stories often are less sappy and there’s less of a danger for the ‘damsel in distress’ stuff.

Think of England Review

Another K.J. Charles novel and one without connection to any series. It’s also almost the latest one in setting, merely “The Green Men” series is set later (after WWI). I have to admit that of all the K.J. Charles novels I’ve read recently (and I went through almost all of her series), “Think of England” is my absolute favourite, both because of the main characters and because of the story. Unlike almost all I’ve read (the two series I’ve not read that far might be different), “Think of England” has no supernatural aspect, it’s purely an espionage story. As I also write espionage every now and then, that makes it an interesting read for me, of course.

The story is written from the point of view of Archibald Curtis (and, honestly, is there a more British name?), a former soldier who lost three fingers of his right hand and his life as he knew it to a misfiring gun. Only, was it an accident or was it planned? Was the shipment of guns which took his fingers and the lives and livelihoods of several of his brothers in arms merely badly produced, with all of the corners cut for most earnings? Was the shipment manipulated to put a bad light on the manufacturer? Fact is, the man came to see Curtis only days before he apparently committed suicide by throwing himself into the Thames. And he dropped a name: Sir Hubert Armstrong, another manufacturer who grew rich after his competitor was disgraced. So when an invitation for a fortnight in the country from Sir Hubert arrives, Curtis takes the chance and makes the trip, despite his relatively new disability and his still-aching knee.

The rest of the society at the mansion - which is far from everywhere else - seems nice enough: Sir Hubert’s young second wife, his son and a good friend of his son, his brother-in-law with his wife, a middle-aged couple, and two younger, unmarried women. The only one Curtis immediately dislikes is the last guest: Daniel da Silva. Very openly gay and bohemian, he seems an easy person to avoid and dislike for former military man Curtis. An artist with a scathing tongue and a much better look that Curtis would admit to himself: all slender, sleek, and dark to Curtis’ own muscular, rough, and fair looks.

Things change, however, when Curtis realizes Daniel is after the same information - and even more of it. They both want to get into the archives behind the library and they only can do it together, because Daniel can crack the lock and Curtis can disable the alarm system. So they work together and find out it’s worse than thought: not only did Sir Hubert have a hand in the incident which took Curtis’ fingers and the lives of several others, he also does a lot of blackmail and might even be selling government secrets.

When they almost get caught, because Curtis couldn’t keep his cool, it’s Daniel who saves both their hides by pretending he and Curtis were just in the library for a little late-night meeting. He also cements that impression by giving Curtis a blow job (where the line “Think of England” comes in when Curtis protests, because he thinks he isn’t gay).

During the next day, they plot how to get the information to Curtis’ second uncle, who also happens to be Daniel’s boss - since Daniel is a secret agent. It’s agreed upon that Curtis is to pretend he’s overdone it with walking (during an excursion to a nearby cave system) and needs to see his specialist about his knee. Like this, he can return to London without arousing suspicion and his uncle can discreetly inform Daniel about the arrival of reinforcements, so that he can keep an eye out for the evidence.

When things go wrong, however, Curtis has to face a few facts which he pushed away before. His knee is fine, he can walk on it the whole night, even with additional weight on his shoulders. And he is gay, always has been. But since he spent most of his adolescent and adult years in male company, seeking release with other men (and not having straight-up full sex) seemed pretty normal. And, even more painful because the other one is in danger, he has fallen absolutely and unchangeably in love with Daniel, with his thorny personality and sharp wit as much as with his body.

Again, there’s the laws to take into consideration. In  the England of 1904, homosexuality was still illegal and could land you in prison. And while Curtis, with his two influential uncles (he’s been orphaned at two months), is pretty safe from any persecution, Daniel would not be, not as a penniless artist and editor and surely not as Jew. Daniel himself, however, is more concerned about Curtis, who stands to lose more on the social side of things. After all, Daniel is just a Bohemian and has no connections to the higher levels of society, but Curtis does. But what becomes of this double dose of angst is part of the story and I won’t spoil it.

On the whole, “Think of England,” as mentioned already, is my most favourite of the three K.J. Charles books I’ve reviewed this month, perhaps because it’s the only one which is set in reality and doesn’t include supernatural themes (although I love the retelling of old stories and I’ve never been set against supernatural themes). Perhaps it’s the chemistry between Curtis and Daniel, which is really, really good. Perhaps it’s the very different main characters the story includes. Perhaps it’s just everything together. All in all, this is the story I would most recommend, especially to readers who are new to male-male romance with explicit content, because the content here is tamer than in the other two books.

The Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal Review

Even though the just-started series “The Green Men” does happen in the same universe as “The Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal,” the casebook doesn’t require any additional reading to be understood - it’s rather the other way around, since “The Green Men” refers to characters and situations from the casebook every now and then. As “The Henchmen of Zenda,” which I already reviewed earlier, the book was written by K.J. Charles and contains a male-male relationship. Unlike the henchmen - which seem to live in the only late 19th/early 20th century European country where homosexuality is allowed - the casebook is set in England, where homosexuality was against the law at that time. This plays a little into the setting, but doesn’t dominate it.

“The Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal” is written in a style not unlike that of John H. Watson of Sherlock Holmes fame. The viewpoint character is not ghost hunter Simon Feximal himself, but his chronicler and lover Robert Caldwell. Starting out as a client, because the house he’d inherited in the countryside and wanted to sell was haunted, Caldwell becomes Simon’s lover and constant companion over the course of the first few stories. That’s one point where “The Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal” differs from “The Henchmen of Zenda” - it’s made up of shorter stories which tell of the different adventures which Simon and Robert had together over the course of their 23-year-long relationship. It also features several other ghost hunters and more are mentioned, among them also some who are known through literature. K.J. Charles herself clearly has read a lot of literature from her target era of late 19th and early 20th century and makes good use of that in her own stories.

The stories themselves are not only about ghosts, even though spooks of various kinds feature in them. They’re also about the government trying to control the arcanists and occultists who work on their own (it’s still at it after WWI, when “The Green Men” is set). They’re also about fights between those arcanists and occultists based on different ideas about their work. And Robert, who has no special abilities, is in the middle of it all, more than once threatened by creatures he can’t defend himself against.

As a matter of fact, Robert’s livelihood is ruined by a mysterious government agent for wanting to tell the world the truth about some dark secrets of the royal family. This, however, only serves to bring Robert and Simon closer together - as Robert can no longer work as a journalist, he becomes Simon’s chronicler and companion full-time.

The story also slowly gives out information about the mysterious Simon Feximal and his sister Miss Kay. Both of them are powerful, but weren’t born with their powers. This, actually, also changes Robert’s life, as he undergoes a magical procedure to save his lover’s life at one point.

K.J. Charles has a good balance between the different mysteries and myths she creates for the stories, the deepening relationship between Simon and Robert, their physical relationship (as always, K.J. Charles does a very good job and the scenes are written very straight-forward and visual), and the reactions of their surroundings (which range from acceptance to blackmail). Since during that era (and in every book from her I’ve read, safe for “The Henchmen of Zenda”) the characters could go to jail (or at least an asylum) for engaging in homosexual intercourse, there’s a constant threat to them being found out by the wrong people.

The characters - and not just Simon and Robert - are engaging and interesting, the late Victorian era comes through very well, and the book stays interesting from the first to the last page. The stories themselves build on the same basic principles of magic and the solution is often found in Simon’s special ability to have ghosts ‘write’ their story on his body, so he and Robert can read it and help them reach closure. Robert, on the other hand, has a sense for stories and often an instinctive understanding of what is happening, which also helps a lot with the ghost hunting.

While Simon, his sister, but also most of the other occultists prefer to put the ghosts at rest - since the ghosts usually are not evil, but merely kept from their final rest by something which others did to them -, one of them simply exorcises the ghosts (at least until one of them proves far too strong to be simply exorcised), which means damning them to eternal suffering. The man himself is also pretty manipulative, using his abilities to force his will on other people, something Simon doesn’t bear well, especially when Robert is involved. This also gives several stories a certain urgency, since Simon and Robert have to act before their colleague can and free the ghosts before they can be damned.

It’s not always ghosts, either, there’s also stories which revolve around local myths and stories about Simon’s and Miss Kay’s past. The whole casebook is interesting to read, the short stories also make it a nice read for when you can’t read much in one go.

On the whole, I can only recommend “The Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal,” provided you love both ghosts and male-male relationships. The writing is good, the characters are interesting, and the stories very entertaining.

The Henchmen of Zenda Review

When I stumbled over “The Henchmen of Zenda” by K.J. Charles on a list of suggested reads with same-sex relationships, I remembered the many, many, many times I’d watched the Peter-Sellers-version of  “The Prisoner of Zenda.” I’d liked that movie, even though I’m not sure whether it would still muster up today (even though I recently learned I still find “Murder by Death” funny). The novel wasn’t very expensive on Kindle, so I bought it and read it, enjoying myself very much.

First of all, “The Henchmen of Zenda” is a retelling of the original “The Prisoner of Zenda” (written by Sir Anthony Hope), but from the point of view of one of the six henchmen which Duke Michael, the villain of the tale, has at his disposal.

I do have a weakness for stories told from the villain’s point of view (or from the point of view of a close ally of the villain), which was one reason why I started reading the book in the first place. Jasper Detchard has been working as a henchman for a while already and is telling the story from his memories. He’s been hired by Duke Michael, but has accepted the job partially to repay an old friend, whom he helps to follow her own plans. This eventually leads to him becoming a quadruple-agent. Jasper’s voice is amusingly rough and honest and his own love story, which runs afoul with his master’s orders more than once, is interesting to see develop as well.

The book, as most of the gay love stories which K.J. Charles writes (two more reviews are coming) has quite explicit sex scenes and the rather straight-forward wording fits twice as well with Jasper and Rupert (the second half of the love story) than it might fit with other characters from other stories, since both of them are hardly people to watch their tongue overly much.

What I also enjoyed, though, was the fact that both women who feature heavily in the story (Jasper’s old friend Toni, who is Michael’s mistress, and Flavia of Ruritania, the cousin of Michael and Rudolf) have their own agenda and follow it well. They are not pitched as the mere damsels which other versions have made of them. Toni wants to get away from Michael and she wants their daughter back (which he had taken from her, so he can keep Toni under control). Flavia doesn’t want to marry either of her cousins (and nobody could blame her, the future king Rudolf isn’t any better than his half-brother, if we’re honest), she wants to rule the country - and she surely is intelligent and devious enough to do it.

The original “The Prisoner of Zenda” is a story which revolves a lot around intrigue and confusion. The fact alone that it includes two men by the name of Rudolf who are sitting on the throne at various times throughout the story leads to interesting mix-ups.

Just by ‘coincidence’ (the kind you rarely find outside of old-fashioned adventure novels) the entourage of the future king of Zenda (Rudolf V.) happens across a man who looks like a perfect copy of the king on precisely the night during which Duke Michael plans to poison the real king so he’ll seem completely and utterly drunk at his inauguration the next morning (or won’t turn up at all). So when a fresh-faced and much better behaved Rudolf turns up the next morning, very gracefully going through all of the ritual, Michael is beside himself with anger. It abates only slightly after the real Rudolf is found and locked away well in the old tower of castle Zenda.

Both sides reach an impasse this way - Rudolf’s entourage can’t admit that they’ve put the wrong person (a very distant cousin who isn’t part of the succession) on the throne while Michael can’t admit he has his own half-brother locked away in the deep dungeons. So while both sides are aware the king is a fake (and Flavia suspects it, because the new king is much more of a king than her cousin ever was), they have to keep silent about it and let things go on.

Of course, things end in a great battle between both sides, where the fake Rudolf valiantly goes on to save the real king (only not so much like this) and Michael and his men are vanquished. By that time, however, Rupert and Jasper have already become Flavia’s agents for real (Rupert has always been her man) and they act on her interest, together with Toni, whom Flavia has promised help with finding her daughter.

A lot of fun in the story comes from the many twists and turns, especially also the many turns of Jasper’s own loyalty. When he realizes he has become a quadruple-agent, he adds the suggestion everyone else finding themselves in such a situation should make sure they have a notebook to keep up with all which is going on.

The story is surprisingly light-hearted for a story which includes murder and kidnapping, which might also be down to the way Jasper tells it. It deals very well with all the subterfuge necessary to survive and ends on a high note (which I, unlike one of the Amazon reviewers, liked a lot).

The book is pretty long and it took me a bit to get into the story, but that was mostly down to trying to remember what I knew about “The Prisoner of Zenda” before, which wasn’t necessary to do - the story works well without knowing the original. Once I was really immersed in it, however, I had a lot of fun while reading it. The writing is fluid, the story is well-told and full of twists, and the ending is gratifying.