1. How did you start
writing erotic romance?
My big thing as a writer has always been characters. I love
to pick them apart, examine them, play with them, see how they react. I love
people. I'm that sadistic Sims player who tortures them all then gets bored,
locks them in the house, and sets fire to the whole building. I want to see how
people tick. (In fiction. Ironically my day job is data analysis, and the
people side of it bores me to tears.)
Romance is the perfect genre for that, especially as I am
not romantically inclined and I quickly discovered that my grittier, very
British version of romance gets attention. Apparently I'm not the only one who
rolls their eyes at gushy sappy love scenes.
The erotic part was a bit accidental. I tried my hand at
writing some porn, way back in my fanfiction days, and accidentally discovered
I have a thing for dirty talk. So every now and then, the mood for some filth
hits me, and off I go!
2. Plotter or
pantster?
Six of one, half a dozen of the other. I have to know where
the story is going. I usually have some scenes in my head that must happen
along the way. I usually write a chapter-by-chapter plan, but several times
I've gone back to the plan (to use to write the synopsis) when I'm about to
pitch a novel and gone, "Hang on, this is nothing like the book!" So
I plot, and then pants my way off the beaten track.
3. What are three
things you have on your writing desk?
Currently, several dirty cups and an empty bowl that used to
contain soup. And tissues. You see where this is going...I've been ill lately,
but time waits for no man-flu. My writing desk is my
general-life-the-universe-and-everything desk, so pretty much anything ends up
on here.
4. Favorite food?
Right now I seriously want a homemade two-bean chilli. I
have no idea why.
5. Tell us a little
about your new release. What character in the book really spoke to you?
Enough is the
story about - being enough. Its main characters, Jesse Dawkins and Ezra Pryce, have
been together a few months, but Jesse has some pretty big self-esteem issues
that Ezra's disapproving family and gorgeous ex-boyfriend don't help. Jesse
really feels the relationship is running on borrowed time - until Ezra's
accident opens Jesse's eyes and lets him see himself the way that Ezra sees
him.
Both Jesse and Ezra spoke to me in different ways - Ezra is
temperamentally very like me, in that he lets his prickly guard down for this
one important person in his life, and otherwise he is very sharp and hostile.
So I click with Ezra very well - write what you know and all that, eh? - but
it's Jesse's story that got this book
going.
Jesse is very much for people who aren't 'supposed' to have
problems like insecurity or low self-esteem. Jesse is good-looking, he's
affable, he loves his job, he has a gorgeous boyfriend, and he's happy. He's a
firefighter and built like a brick shithouse. He gets a lot of positive
attention in the bars, yeah? He's not 'supposed' to have low self-esteem; he's
the guy you look at and think 'he's got it all, what's he moaning about?' Jesse
as a character was, for me, a way of saying it's not that easy and just because
someone looks confident on the outside doesn't mean they're confident inside
too.
I guess both characters and Jesse's story went down well
with the readers too, as Enough was
an immediate hit when it originally came out - so much so that the publishers,
Breathless Press, decided to put it out in print format as well. That was a
huge moment for me, and one I'm not entirely over yet either!
The ebook
can be bought here, the print
book here, and a free
chapter sample here, for anyone who's interested.
6. I write because
____...
It's more socially acceptable than pathological lying.
Seriously. I made up really crazy shit as a little kid. My
sister dubbed me 'the storyteller' before I even started school. Learning to
make (vaguely) legible words on paper turned lies into stories, and once my
five-year-old brain worked out you never got smacked with a wooden spoon for
writing down a story, that was it. I've been writing ever since. The stories
have gotten better, but the handwriting is still shoddy.
So...I guess I write because I do. It's not as vital as
breathing, but life without writing would be like a life of
work-eat-sleep-work-eat-sleep. No joy, no love, no friendship. I'd survive, I'd
live, and I would be pretty fucking miserable while I was at it!
7. What is your
favorite type of character to write about?
Thoroughly British ones in company with their close friends.
The British are generally incredibly nasty (banter!) to their friends and it's
really fun to write dialogue that's heavy on the insulting and banter, whilst
the body language and tone is being affectionate. It makes for interesting
relationships.
8. What is the
sexiest scene you ever wrote?
A particular 'game' played by the main characters of Thicker Than Bone. It came out of
nowhere, involved restraints and toeing very close to the edge of a comfort
zone for one of them, but it was weirdly hot given it was such a short scene.
Apparently filthy talk followed by loving aftercare does it for me! Hopefully
that scene will be available to read next year - provided I get Thicker Than Bone polished and accepted
by a publisher!
9. What advice would
you give new authors in the erotica/romance field?
Don't be neurotic. Seriously.
There's been a lot of neuroticism going around lately -
authors attacking reviewers, readers ,other authors, publishing houses going to
hell, bloggers going crazy - just don't. Don't get involved, don't be 'that
guy' who goes batshit because someone one-starred your book. It hurts. It does,
I won't lie. But it will happen -
because honestly, if you never get a negative review ever, your book has
flopped and only your buddies have seen it. Someone is not going to like it. If
one person says 'your dialogue is crappy' then big deal. One person doesn't
like it. Accept it, move on. Only when several people have the exact same
complaint do you have a problem with your actual work that you might need to
fix. And even then, do not go nuts in public about it!
There's way too much crazy in the world already, and this
industry will not forgive an author for behaving badly.
10. What is next on
your writerly horizon?
I am currently polishing up an adult manuscript, Thicker Than Bone, and a young adult
manuscript, In The Blood. Neither is
as creepy as it sounds! Thicker Than Bone
asks this: if you could someone's life, would you? What if that person was
your own brother? And what if that brother nearly killed your boyfriend? In The Blood is about finding happiness
even when the entire world - and you - say you're not allowed it. They're both
intense books about intense issues, but were loads of fun to write and
hopefully will be polished up and finding homes soon.
About Matthew
Matthew J. Metzger is the front for a British author working
a difficult day job and from the inside of a closet. When he's not writing or
working, he's asleep. That, really, is how six books in two years is possible.
Matthew writes LGBT fiction about contemporary issues, from 'gay issues' such
as coming out through to wider issues such as domestic violence, racism and
terminal illness. Matthew is open to some low-level stalking once in a while,
and can be stalked on Twitter,
Facebook,
and at his website.
Enough - Blurb
Jesse has never had a real boyfriend before. He's a
firefighter, and that's all that anyone's seen before—a quick and thrilling
screw, and a story for the future. So when he lands Ezra Pryce, the most
beautiful man in the whole of Brighton, Jesse can't quite understand why Ezra
is still here eight months down the line.
Not that he's going to complain. Ezra's sexy, sarcastic, and
doesn't treat Jesse like he's stupid, but Jesse can do the math. Ezra is
nothing short of perfection; and Jesse falls a very way short of it. Jesse
isn't going to be enough for someone like Ezra in the long run, and he is
living—and loving—on borrowed time. When a disastrous weekend in Norwich
introduces Jesse to the staunch disapproval of Ezra's family and the six-pack
of his ex-boyfriend in one fell swoop, Jesse's fate is sealed. He cannot hope
to live up to an ex who has every intention of getting Ezra back, and all the
looks and charm to do it too. Jesse is not enough for Ezra and he's never going
to be.
Until the accident forces Jesse to re-evaluate, and shows
him exactly what he looks like through Ezra's eyes.
Enough - Excerpt
Jackie's was a loud cross between a bar and a club, with a sticky dance
floor populated by both straight and gay couples, and a tiny LGBTQ flag above
the bar with a sign declaring it to be a "safe space." Jesse had no
idea what that meant, but he grasped that it was okay to be gay in here,
and slid an arm around Ezra's waist at the bar.
"You're clingy," Ezra said lightly, but tucked his head
briefly against Jesse's neck in a kind of half-hug pose. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Jesse said, and slapped Ezra's hand down. "I'll
get this round. I want you to get tipsy, and you'll never do that if you stick
to your bloody lager."
"Mr. Dawkins, are you trying to get me drunk?"
"Yes," Jesse said, handing over a twenty to the bored
bartender. In the pause as the guy wrestled with the till, he twisted to kiss
Ezra soundly, transmitting his exact intentions with his tongue and his hand
possessively low on Ezra's hip.
"Mm," Ezra hummed as he pulled back, and his eyes were just a
little darker. "Maybe I'll get a little bit drunk."
"You do that," Jesse said, and pressed the glass into his
hand.
Jackie's livened up a little as the bar slowly filled and the money kept
changing hands. Jesse kept Ezra on the vodka, relishing the chance to be able
to get him drunk. Ezra didn't like to get drunk if Jesse couldn't, and Jesse
often couldn't drink because of the risk of being called to an emergency at
work, so it was nice to get to let go a little, to drink a bit more than the
two-pint maximum, to feel the first fuzzy edges of poor coordination and
disjointed thinking take over his brain. The music was kind of shitty - late nineties stuff he hadn't heard in years
- and the bartender was stingy with the
doubles, but it was fairly cheap and it was nasty enough to work, and when that
wide, beautiful smile bloomed across Ezra's face when a tiny little lesbian and
her girlfriend dragged him to dance with them, insisting they knew him as
insistently as he said that they didn't, Jesse felt happy. Despite Mrs.
Pryce, despite Audrey Hepburn being a lesbian, despite the crucifix on the
gatepost, he felt happy.
He drained his glass and went to the bathroom, relieving himself
clumsily in a definitely nasty bathroom with the telltale streaks of sticky
white powder on the counter that said that at least one part of the sex, drugs
and rock and roll was going down in here on your average evening. Rinsing his
hands off, he wondered if another round was called for, or another bar.
Obviously they'd keep going a bit longer. He could still think, for one. And
thinking was counterproductive for later, when he'd get Ezra's long legs
wrapped around his waist and try and suck all the alcohol back out through his
mouth. Or his neck. Or other places.
Then he left the bathroom, and saw him.
Ezra had escaped the tiny lesbians, and was leaning very precariously
against the bar, a fresh drink in hand, and smiling—beaming—at a man who
was just offensively good-looking. He looked like one of those underwear models
or something. Tall in a too-tight-T-shirt, with spiky dark hair in a style that
could have been achieved with an electric razor but he'd probably paid fifty
quid for at a salon aimed at women. A waxed chest, judging by the naked v of
skin that was visible below his neck. He was flashing a chiseled, perfect,
cologne-ad smile at Ezra. People could model cologne and
underwear, right? Because this guy definitely did.
Jesse hesitated at the bathroom door, and felt a shaky warmth bubbling
up in his stomach as the underwear model reached into his back pocket and
passed Ezra a thin bit of card. His number, maybe? Why the hell was some
underwear-cologne model giving Ezra his number?
Why the hell was Ezra putting it in his pocket? Ezra
turned from the bar, eyes scanning the room, and that placid, drink-smudged
smile widened when he locked eyes with Jesse. He leaned back against the sticky
wood, weight on his elbows, and beckoned with one long finger, and it was like
an invisible rope reeling Jesse in. The underwear model glanced Jesse's way and
melted back into the crowd on the dance floor and Jesse's anger went with him.
He planted his hands on either side of Ezra's waist, bracing himself against
the bar, and crowded Ezra against it to kiss him and taste the drunken want on
his tongue.
"You ran away," Ezra accused, tugging on Jesse's hair lightly.
"You started talking to other guys," Jesse murmured, and yet
with Ezra's hand playing with his ear and the wide, blissfully peaceful
expression he wore when he was drunk, it somehow didn't matter.
"Only because you ran away," Ezra teased, and bumped his nose
against Jesse's clumsily.
"Can we go?" Jesse whispered, dropping a hand to slide it
around Ezra's hip and down to the top of his leg, rubbing against the denim of
his jeans lightly. "Back to the hotel? I have designs."
"On what?"
"On you and the bed and being bendy."
Ezra grinned, and downed the rest of his glass in one expert motion, his
back and neck flexing like liquid in suspension. "I knew you got me
drunk," he accused, and Jesse laughed, putting a hand into Ezra's back
pocket to hook him in and guide him out. The night air was cold after the heat
of the bar, and the underwear model had vanished like an ugly, sexy mirage.
"You shouldn't talk to underwear models," he blurted out, and
Ezra laughed too loudly in the street.
"I only talk to your underwear," he retorted, and then
all the sense of it was slipping away, and Jesse simply forgot in favor of
other things.
For the moment.
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