.jpg)
- About the wiki
- How this wiki works
- NEED HELP?
- Art and Artists
- All Gay Fiction ... our new blog!
- Free Gay E-fiction
- Book Launches
- The Booklovers' Lounge
- Cover Art Gallery
- Publishers
- Professional Services
- Publishers Now Reading
- Articles
- USER FORUMS
- New Members
- The Press Room
- Advertise with us
- Terms Of Service
Heidi Cullinan
I have been telling stories forever. I started with the Fisher Price people (you know, the choking hazards of the 1970s) and Weebles, graduated to dolls and Barbies, and then finally had to admit they were just plastic and wood and picked up pen and paper with a computer keyboard on the side. I wrote my first novel when I was twelve and got it published in the K-12 school anthology. I was fully half the anthology.
What I love most in a story is a happy end. I love the freedom of a story that feels like it might be slightly dangerous and yet also promises me that it will only feel dangerous, that in the end it will all truly be okay. I cut my story teeth on fairytales and Disney long-playing records. I threw Jane Eyre across the room when they were mean to her (but picked it up eventually and got to the HEA) and clutched the Little House on the Prairie and Anne of Green Gables books when the girls finally got their house and husband and sense of stability. And then I started reading contemporary and historical romances of the 1990s and embraced what for me felt like a beautiful, radical feminism: I could be enlightened but still feel warm and safe, all at the same time.
Somewhere in the middle of all this, however, I became active in lobbying for LGBT rights, and I began to notice that while you couldn't walk anywhere without tripping over heterosexual HEAs, the LGBT versions were pretty thin on the ground. And when I first began to notice this, I honestly saw none of the kind that I had fallen in love with: the dangerous-but-not, amusement park kind of rides that all those novels I loved were. Those stories were full of sometimes implausible plots, yes, but were also always full of wonderful, engaging characters that made you excited and gave you space to feel, too. Why did only heterosexuals get those stories, I wanted to know? I think my writing LGBT romances became inevitable as soon as I was conscious of this disparity. I wanted to write those stories. There was a glut of the other kind, but there weren't enough of this kind. What else was there to do?
For me LGBT romances are brilliant new territory for story. New emotional landscapes, new adventures, new everything. I can't read enough of them, and I get ideas for ones I can write myself pretty much during every hour of the day. The links below are for the LGBT stories I have written and published so far. My goal is that it will keep growing, and growing, and growing, as I hope so does this whole genre.
Visit my web page here, which includes sample fiction, more about me, news, links to social networking, and my email address.
Hal Porter is no man’s hero; he’s just another Los Angeles construction worker. So when he sees a building appear on what the day before was an empty plot of weeds—a site where people have been found dead—Hal knows a guy like him should steer clear of whatever is going on. But a vision at the building's window draws him inside, and there Hal finds Morgan, a magical shapeshifter held captive by a rival clan... and Hal’s the only one who can save him.
It doesn’t take Hal long to realize he’s in over his head, not only because the clan has powers beyond his imagination but also because he’s fallen in love with Morgan. There’s no escape for them now without a hero to break the curse, and Hal knows it can’t be him. But as Hal and Morgan work together, they discover gifts far more powerful than magic and that heroes aren’t always in shapes they expect.
Genre: Gay romance/urban fantasy
ISBN: 978-1-61581-287-5
Date available: December 4, 2009
