…we're keeping our name but expanding our offerings!
Hi. I’m Kimber Vale. Maybe you don’t know me. That’s a distinct possibility. Suffice it to say, I’m a gutter-mouthed purveyor of smutty romance of all flavors.
Why is this porn-peddling broad clogging up my otherwise stellar news feed with her drivel, you ask?
Well, hold it right there. First of all, I write romance with a side of porn. Second of all, this broad is clogging up your news feed with some pretty ass-kicking news. Oh, and why? Because you’re welcome.
That’s right. I’m here to tell you about Euro Pride Con, ladies and gents.
Honestly, I wish this was July 2015, and I was giving you an end account of how phenomenal Euro Pride was. I wish I was trying desperately to remember what horror I’d spouted in front of a multitude of authors I fangirl like a motherfucker (Oh, the ways I dream of embarrassing myself before Alexis Hall! Oh, the yoga I’d need to do to get both feet jammed far enough into my mouth!). I wish the rainbow-striped hair I’d have inevitably painted on my head still wasn’t washing out weeks after the big event, and neither was my ecstatic buzz for having witnessed the birth of this brand-new convention.
All kidding aside, this meeting is sure to be a killer annual destination for LGBTQ supporters across the globe for a long time coming, and I’m beyond sad I’m missing it.
When Marc asked me to speak on a panel for Euro Pride, I freaked out a bit after the initial shock wore off. I was stupendously honored despite the fact that I was surely a fifth-tier invitee (okay, eighth. Don’t kill my dreams). And then I crunched the numbers. All three of them. I’ve got three kids I’ve never left for more than a night. Don’t judge—at first, I was a paranoid helicopter parent, but these days my youngest is showing his true stripes (he’s like the spawn of Evel Knievel and Lizzie Borden) and, now that I desperately want to run for the hills, I can’t get anyone to sign up for a weekend with the jerktastic fruit of my loins. Not only that, but I’ve got to save money for vision therapy, braces, and camp tuition (so I don’t lose my shit this summer, chop my hair off, change my name, and leave my husband to raise these three maniacs alone). Basically, I can’t go to Germany in July.
Fuck, I so want to go to Germany in July.
Here’s the deal: If you want to go to Euro Pride Con, you still have plenty of time to make that happen. Give your husband a random, lipsticked blowjob and then broach the subject, preferably when he’s almost asleep and preferably after you’ve brought him a few alcoholic beverages. Tell your parents that your youngest feels like no one loves him, and the only thing he wants in this world is to have a three-day weekend at their place with his siblings. Set up a Ponzi scheme—there’s still time!—to fund your trip. Don’t think of all the minutia standing in your way. The details drown in the wake of the big picture (Alexis Freaking Hall is going to be there!).
Loads of authors, like-minded readers, publishers, and all around cool cats are going to be hanging out, talking LGBTQ books, characters, publishing, news, and general smack. It will be epic.
Event organizer, Marc Fleischhauer, said I should blog about the importance of this event, and why I chose to sponsor it. I’m pretty sure I got derailed on both those goals, but allow me to say that education is the key to change, and by spreading the love of LGBTQ art and media, we’re chipping away at stereotypes and building a better future. I hope my three hobbits grow up to enjoy a much more open-minded and loving world than past generations have, and that equality becomes the rule rather than the exception. I hope people the world over continue to kick down doors and spread reason and awareness and respect for all people of all sexes, orientations, colors, and religions. Euro Pride is one solid link in that chain of universal human rights.
I feel like burning a bra now.
Why am I a sponsor? To kiss Marc’s ass so he’ll invite me back another time, of course.
What? You expected something noble? Don’t make me laugh.
Go to Euro Pride. You won’t regret it, but you sure as shit may regret skipping it. Trust me. I hate myself already.
Euro Pride Con: http://europridecon.weebly.com/
Author Bio: K. Vale writes erotic romance of all stripes, from hot hetero to mouthwatering manlove. Find her MF work published under Kimber Vale. Come for the sex. Stay for the story. Stalk Kimber on Facebook and Twitter @KimberVale, and check her site for updates, new releases, and freebies at http://www.authorkimbervale.com.
Kimber has a new book coming out in April! Yippee ki yay! Check out the blurb for Crossed Hearts, and then go to Goodreads and add it to your “Want to Read” list for a chance to win a book from Kimber’s backlist! Do it! Do it now!
<Apologies for the hard sell and excessive exclamation points.>
Kory Vansant doesn’t deserve to be alive.
As time sucks him dry of energy, sapping the final ounces of strength from his congenitally enlarged heart, he’s forced to end his career as Kory Kent, porn star. Staring down death, he questions his life choices and prays for a miracle. For another chance at life, he vows to change who he is at his core.
His prayers are answered. A perfect heart now beats in his chest, but it comes at a heavy price. The donor is an innocent young man cut down far too prematurely.
And Kory’s blemished history is nowhere near an ideal match.
As his debts skyrocket, Kory can’t help but think his resolve to walk the high road is being tested. After he meets the adorable Will Squire at the gravesite they both visit, he’s doubly damned because there’s no way he can keep up his end of the bargain. What happens when a man breaks a deal with a higher power?
Will often prefers the company of the dead to that of the living. Following a bad breakup, he pours himself into his two jobs—funeral director at his uncle’s mortuary and part-time paramedic. He’s drawn ever closer to Kory, as if fate sticks her fickle hand in and pushes them together like two unlikely puzzle pieces. But sometimes history can’t be buried, and maybe divine intervention isn’t always right. Will discovers everyone is imperfect, no matter how pretty the outer package, and opening one’s heart is never easy, but can be oh so worth the pain.