Sionnach Wintergreen

author of romance and fantasy


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Deleted Scene

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**I’m no longer offering this.**

I don’t want to run afoul of the new EU privacy regulations, so I’m suspending this offer for now.

I promised at the end of my M/M historical western mystery romance, A Little Sin, that interested readers could get a copy of the deleted syrup scene from my website. This is a sexually explicit scene that is intended for adults only. If you’re considered an adult in your country and would like a free copy of this NSFW deleted scene, please email me at: everwintergreen@gmail.com. Tell me what file format you want: MOBI, ePub, or PDF. I’ll be happy to send you a copy.

I deleted this scene because I was afraid it slowed the action of the mystery down too much. Every few scenes Garland and Avery seemed to be up to their eyeballs in each other. I was afraid this was just one sex scene too many.

 


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Why Gay Men Weren’t in the Closet in 1923

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My latest gay (M/M) romance is set in 1923 in a small rural town in East Texas. A Little Sin is available through Amazon and is FREE with Kindle Unlimited. While researching this historical western mystery romance, I discovered that gay men weren’t in the closet in 1923. No one was. Closets didn’t really exist back then. People kept their clothes in armoires, chest of drawers, and chifforobes (basically an armoire combined with a chest of drawers.) The idiom didn’t exist.

Instead, gay men who pretended to be straight to fit in with the oppressive heterosexual society were said to “wear a mask.” I found this phrase both poetic and poignant. It describes so beautifully what it feels like to have to hide your true self from people. I’m genderqueer, but I am biologically female and “read” female. Most people have no idea who or what I really am. (Even when I tell them, they often don’t really understand.)  I wear a mask. The stakes, of course, of someone discovering my true identity aren’t as high for me as they are for my protagonists in A Little Sin. Still, the idea that they were wearing masks made me feel very close to them.

There are so many things we take for granted in modern America. In the world of Avery and Garland, indoor plumbing and electricity have not found their way to rural areas. There are no antibiotics. “Okay,” one of my favorite words, didn’t exist until WWII (and it was OK). Prohibition made having a glass of pinot noir illegal. In Texas, literacy tests prevented many people from voting. (It was designed to suppress the black vote.) Texas legislators were openly members of the Ku Klux Klan. (At least now they make some attempt to hide it. Yes, I live in Texas. Yes, I’m bitter.)

Although women now had the right to vote, their roles were largely domestic. Even Garland, the more progressive and enlightened of my two main characters, is amazed when his secretary—a black woman—is curious about his work as a veterinarian and wants to read his old textbooks. The fact that she is interested in science blows his mind.

There were times when I felt quite estranged from my protagonists, who are deeply religious Christians (I’m not), drink buttermilk (ugh), rarely curse, and smoke like fiends. (Smoking was okay, apparently.) I kept wanting to put glasses of scotch in their hands or make them use the “f-word.” (Because I do…a lot.) Writing for these guys was like discovering a new world. Along the way, I fell in love with them. I hope my readers do, too.

There are so many things, so many advancements—both scientific and social—that we take for granted. These things didn’t always exist. They aren’t permanent. We need to be wary of people who want to take us back into a dark, oppressive, and often violent past. We need to be vigilant, vote, and keep moving forward. How can we make America great again when the past is littered with injustices and wasn’t too great for children, people of color, women, and LGBTQIA people? I like to write about history; I wouldn’t want to live there.


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Coming Soon!

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I’m almost finished with my latest book! I’m hoping to release it in a couple of weeks–maybe sooner! It’s a strange brew–a historical M/M mystery romance with a Western flare. There’s a grisly murder and a sexy sheriff!

Here’s where it gets weird. It’s set in 1923 in a small town in rural East Texas. This isn’t the 20’s of The Great Gatsby. There are no flappers, no galas, no fancy cars. Life is hard and gritty in rural Texas. There’s no electricity, no indoor plumbing. This is a land of Prohibition, religion, and the Ku Klux Klan. It’s a dangerous time to be a gay man. Both of my men are very much in the closet. One is guilt-ridden by the conflict between his desires and his strict Christianity. The other suffers from shellshock (they are both veterans of WWI) and has his own set of problems.

I fell hopelessly in love with both of them. I had so much fun working on this book. I hope readers love the characters at least half as much as I do. I’ve had trouble finishing the last chapter because I want to hang onto them. Once I publish the book, they’ll belong to everyone; for now, they’re all mine.

The book (I have the title but am not ready to disclose it just yet) will be available on Amazon very soon. I’ll be posting a cover reveal shortly and will discuss the characters and the setting in more depth.


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The Most Romantic Thing

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Some people roll their eyes when you mention romance. They don’t consider it serious literature. They probably don’t consider it very important in their relationships. It’s frivolous, right? It’s a box of chocolates and some rose petals.

I don’t think so. I write romances, mostly gay romances, so maybe I’m biased. There was a time when I didn’t believe much in romance, either. But I married a terrifically romantic guy who has convinced me that romance is real. Here’s possibly the most romantic thing he has ever done.

We bought a large glazed pot with a beautiful interior. The interior was so beautiful, in fact, that we chose not to plant anything in it. It sat out on our back porch and looked pretty. One day, I noticed the little dried up husk of a lizard in the pot. I was horrified. I love animals and hated the thought that this little creature had died in agony, trapped in my beautiful pot, unable to climb out the slick sides. I told my husband, in tears, about my grisly discovery.

The next day, I found a strange collection of junk in the pot. Someone (my husband) had made an escape ladder out of stones and sticks. I’ve never loved anyone more than I loved him at that moment. I felt heard, validated, and loved. Isn’t that what we’re all looking for?

Romance doesn’t have to be awkward poetry and candlelight. It’s about listening to someone you love, making his needs important, and taking action out of love. These things are powerful. They keep our hearts open to the people near us, making our relationships stronger.

So, no, I don’t think there’s anything frivolous about romance. I think it’s vital to a healthy relationship and important to life, itself. I think it’s significant as a genre, as well, and every bit as important as fantasies or mysteries or sci fi or whatever else.