“You write in order to change the world… if you alter, even by a millimetre, the way people look at reality, then you can change it.” ― James Baldwin
WHILE ANY time is the right time to feature Own Voice authors, PRIDE MONTH is an especially poignant juncture to celebrate these stories that speak from lived experience. Regardless of whether a work resonates with me (and I’ll readily admit many don’t), I firmly believe that anyone should have the freedom to create, to use their imagination, to write what they wish. Sweet and Spicy. Moderate and Graphic. And everything in between.
That said, I’m a strong proponent of the view that creators (and I’m talking writers here for the sake of this article) must delve into the real lives and experiences of others with care, research, respect, and empathy. I’m not into lazy stereotyping, torture porn narratives, or blatant exploitation of lives and lived experiences for sensationalist writing to get “noticed.”
Oh, and effort is great, but I’d love some talent too.
There’s something uniquely powerful about Own Voice authors sharing pieces of themselves through their work—stories informed by the communities they belong to, the cultures that shaped them, and the identities through which they move through the world. Those perspectives bring an emotional authenticity that can’t be replicated with the same potency; they carry the weight of real joys, fears, failures, and triumphs.
As a gay author and reader, I’m continually drawn to stories that reflect the many facets of gay/queer life, whether they’re grounded in reality or wrapped in fantasy, horror, romance, or something delightfully difficult to categorize.
For Pride Month, I’m once again highlighting gay/queer male Own Voice authors—this time featuring 12 of them—and highlighting one of their books through the colours of the traditional Rainbow Pride flag. If I included every colour and meaning attached to the current Progress Pride Flag, this post would rapidly become a novel. Each book’s cover corresponds to one of the rainbow colours, while the story itself reflects the sentiment, emotion, or value traditionally associated with that colour.
What I love about this approach is that it allows me to celebrate both the diversity of Own Voice storytelling and the deeply personal ways we connect with books as readers. Sometimes a novel resonates because it mirrors our own experiences; sometimes it does the opposite, introducing us to perspectives and life journeys we’ve never considered, thought would interest us, or knew would make us uncomfortable. The most satisfying and the most frustrating stories do both.
Here’s a shocking statement: There’s no single, universal gay/queer way to exist. (Could you sense my sarcasm?) With Own Voices work, as a reader, you quickly discover that there’s more to the story than narrative verisimilitude, more than a “sense of believability”; there’s an inherent element of emotional and psychological truth. 🏳️🌈 Pride has always been about visibility, community, resilience, and joy. What better way to honour that than by uplifting the voices telling their own stories? And like last time, I’m not selecting from among the authors of HAUNTED HEARTS because they’re all amazing authors, and you should read everything in that Own Voice series (the first two junctures featuring my novels The Night Belongs To Lovers and I Will Always Find You). Categories have 2 authors each because 1 just isn’t enough. Neither is 2, but I digress.
RED: LIFE
MATTHEW DANTE
I’ve been a fan (and friend) of author and fellow Canadian Matthew Dante for a while now. His fiction ranges from heartfelt contemporary romances to dark, suspense-driven narratives that delve into obsession, manipulation, violence, trauma, and the complex realities of human relationships and sexuality. In his darker works, themes of survival emerge not as abstract concepts, but as responses to genuine danger—both physical and emotional—as characters navigate threats, secrets, betrayal, and the consequences of desire. Dante creates thrilling, cinematic, often erotic stories that centre gay/queer men with emotional honesty, nuance, and unapologetic visibility.
His novel, LAYING CLAIM (Rough Edges #1), embodies LIFE through MMC Mickey’s struggle to reconcile the expectations placed upon him with the life he truly wants. As he balances loyalty, identity, secrecy, and same-sex desire, the novel explores what it means to live authentically while facing the pressure to hide parts of oneself you fear will cost you too much to embrace openly.
Against a backdrop of organized crime, shifting allegiances, and escalating danger, Seth Richards is drawn from a routine surveillance job into violent interrogation and an unexpected emotional entanglement with Mickey O’Brien. The result is a thriller-tinged gay romance where survival, desire, and identity are inextricably bound.
Ultimately, the novel reflects the Pride flag’s theme of LIFE as vitality and growth—the difficult, ongoing process of choosing authenticity in environments that reward concealment. Mickey’s journey becomes one of survival not just in a physical sense, but in an emotional and identity-driven one, where living fully means refusing to fracture himself into acceptable (for others) and hidden parts.
In that refusal, the story finds its central pulse: that to live is not only to endure, but to claim the right to desire, to feel, and to exist without apology.
To connect with Matthew Dante, follow him on Facebook, Instagram, Bluesky, and TikTok.
Laying Claim (Rough Edges Book 1) is available for purchase at Barnes & Noble, amazon.ca & amazon.com.
NANDO GRAY
Nestled deep within the mist-shrouded wilderness of Washington State’s Olympic National Forest, dark romance author Nando Gray spends his days weaving intense, emotionally charged gay/queer love stories that truly convey the Own Voice experience. He puts his characters through impossible trials, crafting heart-pounding adventures filled with passion, danger, and hard-won happily-ever-afters.
Gray specializes in M/M fantasy, excelling in Sci-Fi and historical narratives. His novels blend high-stakes emotion with unforgettable gay/queer romances, proving that love can flourish even in the darkest circumstances.
His storytelling is marked by a focus on psychological depth, moral complexity, and the enduring resilience of connection in worlds defined by conflict and uncertainty.
In his novel CENTURION, Gray presents LIFE not simply as a story of empires, battles, or historical forces, but as a series of deeply human connections. While Rome may be falling, the novel suggests that love, compassion, and personal growth can endure long after political power has vanished. Through the journeys of MMCs Cato and Alaric, Centurion explores life as a search for meaning, the tension between choice and destiny, and the transformative power of love. Their evolving bond becomes a lens through which larger questions of loyalty, identity, and survival are examined against the backdrop of a collapsing world.
Ultimately, the novel argues that what gives life purpose is not power, conquest, or glory, but the relationships we forge and the humanity we choose to embrace. The emotional stakes are as vast as the empire itself, yet the story remains grounded in intimate moments of trust, vulnerability, and resilience. (And that cover model… damn!)
To connect with Nando Gray, follow him on Instagram and Facebook. Also, check out his linktr.ee.
Centurion is available for purchase at amazon.ca and amazon.com.
ORANGE: HEALING
PAUL MONETTE
Growing up in a small New England town during the 1950s, Paul Monette (October 16, 1945 – February 10, 1995) seemed destined for success. A gifted student and accomplished writer, he excelled academically and socially, earning a reputation as the town’s “perfect Paul.” Yet beneath that polished exterior lay a truth he struggled to understand and accept.
As he journeyed through the privileged world of the Ivy League, explored life abroad, and navigated relationships marked by longing, secrecy, and heartbreak, Monette wrestled with the expectations placed upon him and the reality of his identity. Haunted by the absence of visible models for same-sex love, he searched for what he once described as “the thing I’d never even seen: two men in love and laughing.”
The term “Own Voices” was coined long after Monette’s work was published, yet his writing embodies its core principles. In his memoir, BECOMING A MAN: HALF A LIFE STORY, he chronicles the realities of growing up gay, coming out, finding love, and living through the AIDS crisis. These stories are not imagined from an outside perspective; they are rooted in his personal experiences and the communities he belonged to.
I discovered Paul Monette during my first year at university, just one year before his death due to AIDS. The first man I ever kissed—a much older teaching assistant (not mine, and that’s as far as it went, but still… WOW!)—gave me this book as one of my first introductions to gay culture. There is no “Blurb” that can properly describe this work, but I can say that Becoming a Man is a powerful memoir of self-discovery, resilience, and the courage it takes to embrace one’s authentic self.
From a contemporary perspective, Becoming a Man illustrates that HEALING is not the erasure of pain but the process of integrating it into a fuller understanding of oneself. In the book, Monette does not pretend that prejudice, loneliness, or loss never happened. Instead, he shows how honesty, love, and self-acceptance can transform wounds into sources of strength.
Becoming a Man: Half a Life Story can be purchased at Barnes & Noble, Indigo, amazon.ca, and amazon.com.
MICHAEL ROBERT
Here’s the thing about Michael Robert: he can write a setting, a community, and a whole cast of people who feel like they’ve always lived in the worlds he creates. He has the power to really capture true-to-life narratives. That sense of authenticity carries into his portrayal of gay/queer relationships in all their beauty and mess, especially his age-gap gay (or M/M) love stories. He approaches them with care and emotional honesty, focusing on the lived reality of connection rather than reducing it to a trope. The relationships he writes feel grounded—shaped by difference, yes, but also by tenderness, mutual recognition, and the complexity of two people choosing each other.
In his own life, Robert is in a relationship with fellow author Garry Michael (who I’m also featuring), and the age difference between them provides him with insight into how such a relationship, notably between two men, can unfold and flow. This real-world experience absolutely informs the emotional texture of his writing in the best way.
Robert’s novel, SUDDENLY LAST SUMMER, doesn’t treat HEALING as something neat or easily resolved, but as a gradual process of returning to oneself after emotional fracture. His characters carry histories of hurt, silence, and longing, yet the story allows those experiences to surface rather than be buried, showing that acknowledgement is often the first step toward repair.
In that slow unfolding, connection becomes the quiet force that drives change. Moments of honesty, vulnerability, and unexpected understanding enable the characters to begin rebuilding what was broken—and what never truly had the chance to begin. Rather than erasing the past, they learn how to live alongside it, recognizing that while time does heal, memory remains. In this way, Suddenly Last Summer embodies HEALING as something lived, ongoing, and imperfectly human, especially for gay/queer people.
To connect with Michael Robert, follow him on Instagram and Facebook, and check out his linktr.ee.
Suddenly Last Summer is available for purchase at amazon.ca and amazon.com.
YELLOW: SUNLIGHT
RICHARD WILLET
Richard Willett is a Canadian-American fiction writer, playwright, and screenwriter. He was born in Hollywood, California, where, shortly after his birth, Willett’s family moved to Vancouver, Canada, where he spent much of his childhood and formative years. As a young adult, he moved to New York City. Growing up in Vancouver, Willett was exposed to both Canadian and American cultural influences, which later informed his creative work in fiction and dramatic writing. I have the Facebook group Gay Men Loving Gay Books to thank for bringing this author to my attention. I promptly purchased his novel, which I’m about to discuss.
Willett has discussed his connection to Edmund White (January 13, 1940 – June 3, 2025), both personally—having met him in the early 1980s—and as a creative influence in gay/queer fiction. Both authors embody the power of Own Voice storytelling, drawing upon their lived experiences to create authentic portrayals of gay/queer life, especially from the vantage point of pre-millennial LGBTQ+ experience. Even if, like Paul Monette, White’s early work was written long before we embraced this modern term, it nevertheless exemplifies the spirit of Own Voice literature.
Willett’s novel, A FRIEND OF DOROTHY’S represents SUNLIGHT—optimism, clarity, and positivity—because it insists on illuminating what was once obscured by fear, stigma, and silence. Set against the backdrop of 1980s Vancouver and New York City during the AIDS crisis, the novel follows Eric, a gay man shaped by self-isolation and emotional restraint, as he moves through the aftermath of the sexual liberation era into the years reshaped by the epidemic. In that context, this aspect of the Pride Flag emerges as a symbolic counterforce: a steady, human light that makes it possible to see clearly even in moments of grief and uncertainty.
The story does not treat queerness as abstraction or stereotype; instead, it brings emotional precision to Eric’s longing for connection and his struggle to reconcile desire with fear. Even when the narrative inevitably enters dark territory—illness, loss, and social fragmentation—it maintains a thread of awareness and reflection. That clarity mirrors the meaning of the Pride flag’s yellow stripe: not naïve happiness, but the ability to understand truthfully and without distortion.
Eric’s experiences, particularly through his relationship with his friend Dale and the progression of AIDS in their community, force an honest confrontation with mortality and belonging. Yet the novel’s emotional core is not only tragedy, bit recognition. It asks the reader to see gay/queer lives fully, without euphemism or erasure, and in doing so, it restores visibility where there was once avoidance.
Optimism here is not an ending but a way of seeing: even in isolation, there is understanding, and even in suffering, meaning can emerge. Eric’s shift from withdrawal toward emotional awareness becomes a form of clarity earned through experience. The novel acknowledges pain without letting it have the final word, offering a restrained, hard-won positivity rooted in a clear-eyed acceptance of life as it is, beauty and cruelty, fairness and suffering.
To connect with Richard Willett, follow him on Facebook and visit his website.
A Friend of Dorothy’s is available for purchase at Indigo, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, amazon.ca and amazon.com.
ERIC DAVID ROMAN
Okay, so, I’m about to contradict myself here because Eric is, in fact, a Haunted Hearts author. Hear me out! His queer horror novel, LONG NIGHT AT LAKE NEVER, is one of the first books I ever reviewed on my BLOG, and Eric is the first author I ever interviewed, Own Voice or otherwise. So I’m giving my friend special treatment. A native of Florida, Eric now resides in Northern Virginia with his husband. He loves all things horror, queer, and campy. He’s also one of the first gay/queer male fiction writers I connected with when I published my first novel, Vindictive, and began using social media as a marketing and outreach tool.
When I think of Own Voice authors, Eric immediately comes to mind. He’s unafraid to write explicitly gay/queer male characters and relationships, especially within the horror genre, where such representation has often been limited or marginalized. His romances are beautiful, bold, and often messy, marked by intense, passionate homoeroticism.
Long Night at Lake Never embodies SUNLIGHT in a decidedly unconventional way. While the 
novel’s cover prominently features yellow—the colour associated with SUNLIGHT and represented in the Pride flag—the story itself plunges readers into darkness. Set at Camp Horizons, a conversion camp on the shores of Lake Never, the novel follows recently outed Tyler Wills as he navigates religious persecution, queer resilience, and a deadly slasher stalking the campgrounds. The contrast between the bright symbolism of the cover and the horrors lurking within underscores one of the novel’s central themes: the search for hope, identity, and survival in places determined to extinguish them.
Yet it is within the novel’s very setting that the tenets of Pride’s SUNLIGHT—optimism, clarity, and positivity—shine brightest, pun intended. Amid the darkness of conversion therapy and slasher horror, the story celebrates queer resilience, self-acceptance, and the determination to survive. It’s about seeing the light through the darkness and holding onto the hope of emerging safely on the other side. Yes, hopefully—as I said, it’s horror, after all. Eric’s novel is what They/Them wished it was.
To connect with Eric David Roman on Facebook, Instagram and Bluesky.
Long Night At Lake Never is available for purchase at Smashwords, amazon.ca, and amazon.com.
GREEN: NATURE
WILLIAM HUSSEY
William Hussey is a British writer whose work often focuses on LGBTQ+ identity, emotional authenticity, and the experiences of gay/queer people across both contemporary and historical settings. Speaking of that, one of the most striking aspects of his writing is how he bridges time periods while keeping gay/queer identity at the centre of his stories. This is part of what makes his work so powerful as Own Voice storytelling: even in a historical setting, the emotional reality of gay/queer experience is rendered with immediacy and care, avoiding stereotypes or distance; it’s all still so relatable.
As a result, Hussey stands as a compelling example of why Own Voice narratives matter. His work does not just represent LGBTQ+ characters; it centres their humanity, their complexity, and their truth(s). Whether set in the present or the past, his writing affirms that gay/queer love has always existed, always endured, and always deserved to be seen with dignity.
The green stripe of the Pride flag represents NATURE, symbolizing growth, life, authenticity, and the idea that LGBTQ+ identities are a natural part of human diversity. Hussey’s THE BOY I LOVE beautifully embodies these themes through its portrayal of love, resilience, and self-acceptance.
Set during the First World War, the novel follows nineteen-year-old Stephen, a young officer returning to the trenches after suffering both physical and emotional wounds. Still grieving the loss of his first love, Stephen struggles to find purpose amid the horrors of war. Everything changes when he meets Private Danny McCormick, a talented and intelligent recruit with whom he forms an immediate and powerful connection.
One of the strongest ways the novel reflects the green stripe is by portraying their love as natural—which gay/queer love absolutely is. Although both society and the military condemn Stephen and Danny’s relationship, Hussey presents their feelings as genuine, instinctive, and deeply human.
The term “normalize” carries problematic implications, so instead I’ll say that Hussey beautifully portrays gay/queer love as an inherent part of the vastness of human experience, presenting it without apology or spectacle. Genuine romantic affection emerges naturally between two men who find comfort, understanding, and hope in each other amid extraordinary and dangerous circumstances. Stephen and Danny’s relationship represents growth, hope, resilience, and authenticity in the face of immense challenges. Their story reminds readers that love, like NATURE itself, has the power to endure and thrive even in the bleakest of circumstances.
To connect with William Hussey, follow him on TikTok, Instagram, Facebook , and Bluesky. Also, check out his website.
The Boy I Love is available for purchase on amazon.ca, and amazon.com.
DAVID KINGSTON YEH
David Kingston Yeh’s fiction draws deeply from his lived experience as an Asian-Canadian gay man, husband, educator, and LGBTQ+ counsellor in Toronto. Holding an MA in Cultural Sociology from Queen’s University and having spent more than twenty years working with gay/queer and trans communities, Yeh absolutely brings authenticity to his writing that resonates throughout the Boy at the Edge Trilogy. His novels explore the complexities of gay/queer identity, desire, intimacy, friendship, and belonging through the eyes of Daniel Garneau, a young gay man coming of age in Toronto.
As an Own Voice writer, Yeh’s work reflects the stories, struggles, joys, and discoveries he has encountered both in his own life and through years of supporting LGBTQ+ youth and adults. The result is a literary realism that refuses to look away from moments of gay/queer intimacy, offering readers affirming, nuanced, and deeply human portrayals of LGBTQ+ lives.
This connection is particularly evident in THE B-SIDE OF DANIEL GARNEAU, the concluding 
novel of the trilogy. The novel can be meaningfully associated with the green stripe of the Pride flag, NATURE, which symbolizes growth, renewal, and flourishing. By the third book, Daniel’s journey has evolved beyond the uncertainty and misadventures of youth into a deeper understanding of himself and his place in the world. As the symbolism of the green stripe suggests, the novel reflects personal growth, emotional maturation, and the organic process of becoming one’s authentic self.
Toronto’s diverse neighbourhoods, communities, and social spaces serve as fertile ground for this development, reinforcing the idea that gay/queer life is not one thing or one way, but richly varied and continually shaped through connection, experience, and self-discovery. In The B-Side of Daniel Garneau, Daniel’s search for love, family, and belonging reaches a stage of greater self-acceptance, mirroring the green stripe’s celebration of resilience and the natural unfolding of one’s gay/queer identity.
Yeh’s work is not only a chronicle of one character’s journey but also a testament to the growth, healing, and vitality found within the greater LGBTQ+ community.
To connect with David Kingston Yeh, follow him on Instagram and Facebook; also, check out his website.
The B-Side of Daniel Garneau is available for purchase at Indigo, Barnes & Noble, amazon.ca, and amazon.com.
BLUE/INDIGO: SERENITY/HARMONY
BRAD BONEY
An Austin-based novelist, Brad Boney’s fiction consistently asks a profound question: How do the intimate, both platonic and romantic, relationships of gay/queer people create continuity across distance, time, and circumstance? Instead of viewing these experiences merely as self-disclosure, Boney often perceives them as a form of expansive connection—among brothers, lovers, generations, communities, and even across centuries.
His work turns gay/queer life far more into an architecture of interconnected relationships rather than a declaration of identity.
Boney’s “Austin Series” is quite possibly my favourite Own Voice series ever. For this BLOG post, however, I’m shifting my focus to a stand-alone novel of his where the perspective I mentioned above is also especially evident: BROTHERS ACROSS TIME, a sprawling time-travel novel that links contemporary Austin with sixteenth-century Venice through an enchanted gondola, twin brothers, separated families, and multiple love stories. The novel’s emotional center is not rebellion or conflict but reunion. Characters cross centuries not to escape themselves but to find one another and, in turn, even understand themselves better. The story repeatedly returns to acts of reconciliation, kinship, and the preservation of bonds that history, geography, and time try to sever.
Not only does the novel’s cover colouring fit perfectly here, but, seen through the symbolism of the Pride flag’s blue/indigo stripe, which embodies SERENITY/HARMONY, we truly connect with why I chose this novel. This colour is the one most associated with balance rather than spectacle, which is precisely why it fits Boney’s novel. The book is filled with potentially chaotic elements: time travel, twins separated across centuries, shifting identities, romance, and historical upheaval. Yet the narrative impulse is always toward balance. The magical gondola functions less as a vehicle of adventure than as a mechanism of restoration, aligning fractured lives. The novel suggests that SERENITY/HARMONY isn’t the absence of difference but the ability of differences to coexist across time, culture, and experience.
In this sense, Boney’s approach to Own Voice storytelling feels distinct. Many gay/queer narratives are 
understandably preoccupied with crossing boundaries. Brothers Across Time is more interested in building bridges after those boundaries have been crossed. The novel’s romances are part of a larger story about family, belonging, and staying connected to the people who matter most. At its heart, the story isn’t really about escaping limits or chasing endless freedom. It’s about finding your way back to one another.
Whether it’s brothers reunited, lovers finding each other, or people reaching across centuries, the story keeps returning to the idea that relationships can endure despite distance, time, and circumstance. The past and the future don’t have to be in conflict; in Boney’s world, they can coexist, connected by the bonds people create. In his storytelling, reincarnation, soul mates, and time travel are profound agents of connection for his gay/queer characters.
In Pride Flag terms, Boney’s novel is not a flash of red passion or orange vitality—it’s the blue/indigo current running beneath the story, carrying people toward one another until their lives finally come into balance.
To connect with Brad Boney follow him on Facebook check out his website: bradboney.com.
Brothers Across Time is available for purchase at Indigo.ca, amazon.ca, and amazon.com.
SIMON DOYLE
Simon Doyle has stated that his fiction is shaped by the absence of gay/queer narratives in mainstream stories during his upbringing, and by his later desire to create them. That impulse—writing both of himself and to his younger self—runs through his work as both motivation and method. In his fiction, queerness is structured as a lens through which memory, identity, and emotional survival are examined. This Own Voice approach positions his storytelling where lived experience becomes not just inspiration but a formal influence on how stories are told and what kinds of emotional truths are given breath and made vivid and tangible on the page.
In his novel THIS IS NOT A VAMPIRE STORY, Doyle reconfigures the Gothic tradition into something quieter, more interior, and more reflective. Victor Callahan, a vampire frozen at seventeen, is not rendered as a figure of horror but as a vessel for suspended time—an embodiment of memory that cannot decay or resolve. The novel’s dual timelines, shifting between mid-century Ireland and a present-day care facility, emphasize how love and grief refuse linear containment. Rather than using vampirism to heighten spectacle, Doyle uses it to explore gay/queer endurance: the way affection survives secrecy, and the way loss becomes a permanent architecture of the self.
Within this framework, the novel’s emotional atmosphere aligns closely with the symbolism of the Pride flag’s blue/indigo stripe: SERENITY/HARMONY. Victor’s experience is not defined by chaos or overt rebellion, but by a sustained, almost meditative awareness of his own being—an existence very much outside of time and death as humans experience them. The love he shares with James O’Carroll, constrained by the criminalization and stigma of mid-century Ireland, becomes a study in quiet devotion and restrained longing. Even in separation, their connection persists not as active drama but as emotional resonance, suggesting that gay/queer experience often exists in the subtler spaces of memory, reflection, and unspoken continuity.
Ultimately, Doyle’s work suggests that SERENITY/HARMONY isn’t the absence of pain but the ability to live alongside it without erasure. In This is Not a Vampire Story, immortality becomes less a supernatural condition than a metaphor for emotional persistence, the refusal of love to fully disappear even when time demands it. The novel’s Pride blue/indigo sensibility lies in this power: a harmony forged not through resolution, but through remembrance. In reimagining the vampire as a figure of quiet reflection rather than monstrosity, Doyle offers a narrative where gay/queer experience is held with care, depth, and a lingering sense of peace within grief.
To connect with Simon Doyle, follow him on Instagram, Facebook, Bluesky, and visit his Website.
This is Not A Vampire Story is available for purchase at Indigo, amazon.ca, and amazon.com.
VIOLET/PURPLE: SPIRIT
TALBOT FINCH
Talbot Finch is a gay author and artist who previously lived in the southeastern United States and now resides in the UK with his husband. His fiction explores the LGBTQ+ experience through romance, fantasy, and Gothic horror, often blending rich atmosphere with emotionally complex characters and immersive storytelling. Across his writing, he focuses on identity, connection, and the tension between desire and constraint, creating narratives that are both evocative and thought-provoking while inviting readers into vividly imagined worlds.
In his debut novel, VIOLET REVERIE, which comfortably sits in my top 10 favourite books of all time, Finch draws on gay/queer identity not as a decorative element or subtextual layer, but as a structural force shaping character psychology, conflict, and emotional stakes. Rather than positioning queerness as an exception within a heteronormative template, the novel treats it as an ordinary, fully realized mode of desire and selfhood operating within a historically restrictive setting. This matters in the discussion of the poignancy (and necessity) of Own Voice writing because the text resists the idea that gay/queer stories must be translated into traditional legibility for outside gazes/consumers (or “straight”) before they can be told.
At the same time, Finch’s approach is careful not to reduce authenticity to autobiography. Instead, the Own Voice framework functions more as a matter of tonal and ethical alignment than of direct replication of lived events. The emotional logic of characters like Nathan—his constrained autonomy, mental fragmentation, and institutional misdiagnosis—feels informed by an awareness of how gay/queer bodies have historically been medically and psychologically controlled and constrained, even if filtered through Gothic fiction conventions. In that sense, Finch is working within genre traditions while subtly correcting them from the inside, using the vocabulary of nineteenth-century melodrama to expose how those same structures encoded homosexuality as instability, excess, or “hysteria.”
Violet Reverie embodies the Pride flag’s violet/purple stripe SPIRIT though its reflective tone and its emphasis on inner life as a site of imagination, resistance, and transformation. The story lingers in moments of quiet connection and emotional clarity, where characters navigate vulnerability, trust, and the longing for stability within uncertain circumstances.
Rather than relying on external spectacle, Finch leans into a calm yet resonant emotional undercurrent, allowing relationships and self-understanding to unfold with steadiness and care. He also suggests that strength comes from within, helping people navigate pressure, challenge expectations, and stay true to themselves.
The novel’s atmosphere—its emotional intensity and Gothic ambiguity—refuses to treat gay/queer love as either tragedy or novelty. Instead, it frames intimacy between Nathan and Peter as almost metaphysical: a force that unsettles yet sustains, and perhaps was meant to be.
That spiritual quality isn’t separate from physical and mental suffering, but it challenges the notion that LGBTQ+ narratives must resolve in loss to feel serious or poignant.
Finch’s contribution to the Own Voices discourse lies in his insistence on a spectrum of gay/queer emotional possibility. The romance in Violet Reverie is tender without being sanitized, romantic without being naïve, and rooted in historical constraint without being defined by it. In doing so, Finch expands the possibilities of gay/queer-authored Gothic fiction, particularly in how it balances agency, desire, and psychological complexity.
If the violet/purple stripe in the Pride flag suggests imagination and SPIRIT as resistance, then Finch’s work demonstrates how storytelling itself can become a space where gay/queer life isn’t merely endured but actively re-envisioned in a positive light.
To connect with Talbot Finch, follow him on Instagram & Facebook. Also, visit his Website.
Violet Reverie is available for purchase at amazon.ca and amazon.com.
GARRY MICHAEL
Garry Michael is a writer of MM romance fiction, often exploring darker, erotic themes, but typically with a HEA. He’s well known for his methodical plotting, atmospheric storytelling, and vivid, emotionally charged imagery. He’s developed a strong readership through series such as “Men in the Shadows,” which follows sexy, professionally trained male assassins. He often collaborates with his husband, fellow M/M romance author Michael Robert, whom I’ve featured in the Pride flag colour Orange: Healing, and together they write under the collective name “The Husbands Who Write,” including their co-authored anthology of novellas, Unexpected.
Garry, like his husband, creates unapologetically homoerotic narratives, utilizing a variety of tropes, including age gap, domination, found family, and one of my favourites, “touch him and die!” He explores gay/queer (though we don’t exclusively own these, but anyway…) sexual conventions such as edging, wax play, orgasm control, and aggressive (but fun) anal intercourse (which is a more clinical way of saying ass-fucking). Are you a bottom, top, or versatile? Or do you prefer being a “side?” (I can’t forget you guys).
When it comes to the Pride flag’s violet/purple stripe, representing SPIRIT, I’m forever drawn to interpretations that exist outside religion and instead speak to something deeply human: inner strength, emotional depth, resilience, and a steadfast sense of self. Different interpretations obviously exist, but SPIRIT, for me, reflects what holds a person together when the outside world is confusing, limiting, or even hostile. It represents that inner fire that LGBTQ+ people so often have to protect, cultivate, express, or reclaim over the course of their lives. It’s a quality I recognize in Michael’s work.
His novel THE CULT (Men in the Shadows #2) is far more than just a sequence of thrilling and sensual events; it’s a deeply personal story about what occurs within a person who engages with these dramatic, explosive, and self-revealing homoerotic situations. At its core, the book feels like it’s exploring identity under pressure. The characters are placed in environments where control, secrecy, or expectation tries to shape who they are. And what stood out to me isn’t just how they respond externally, but how much of the struggle is internal. It’s about what gets suppressed, what refuses to disappear, and what quietly survives even when it’s not safe to express it openly.
This theme is frequently repeated in gay and M/M fiction. Many of the novels I’ve featured utilize this theme, but how can we, as Own Voice authors, truly escape it? It’s a part of our shared identity, our experience(s) as gay/queer men in a society that’s too often unaccommodating; we have to create our own space within it.
Michael approaches this with intense homoerotic passion, looking inward and exploring our own sexual energy, our SPIRIT, you might say—embracing who we are as gay/queer men and celebrating our same-sex desires.
To connect with Garry Michael, follow him on Instagram & Facebook.
The Cult (Men in the Shadows #2) is available for purchase at amazon.ca and amazon.com.
I could easily have doubled—or even tripled—this list and still left deserving authors off. That’s one of the joys of gay fiction and queer literature: there isn’t a single story, genre, identity, or experience that defines us. There never has been. We, as gay/queer people, are as different as we are alike. Pride is about visibility, but it’s also about listening, learning, celebrating, and occasionally having our assumptions and prejudgments thoroughly dismantled by a really good book. If any of these titles catch your eye, I encourage you to give them a try. You might find a reflection of yourself or discover a life entirely different from your own, but you will definitely find a fantastic story. Happy Pride Month! 🌈📚 Oh, and leave a comment if you like.
SO HERE’S the thing: queer characters existed in comic book form long before mainstream superhero books finally caught up. Unambiguous LGBTQ+ representation in comics predates both Flash villain-turned-ally Hartley Rathaway’s (The Pied Piper) declaration of his homosexuality in DC Comics’ The Flash Vol. 2 #53 (Aug 1991) and fellow Canadian Jean-Paul Beaubier’s (Northstar) coming out in Marvel Comics’ Alpha Flight Vol. 1 #106 (Mar 1992).
Beyond representation, comics have also served as a medium of queer expression. Independent and underground comics have explored LGBTQ+ themes long before mainstream publishers were willing to do so. Artists used the format to tell personal stories about coming out, relationships, discrimination, joy, and community—queer experiences that were overlooked in traditional media.
The idea for Gay Comix originated with Denis Kitchen, founder of Kitchen Sink Press and one of the key publishers of underground comics. In 1979, after learning that underground cartoonist Howard Cruse was gay, Kitchen approached him with an idea: edit an anthology showcasing the work of LGBTQ+ comic creators. The two were already familiar with each other’s work. Cruse’s long-running comic Barefootz had been published by Kitchen Sink Press, making him a natural choice to spearhead the project.
Sadly, there are only 25 issues in this groundbreaking series, spanning its eighteen-year run. And though much of the early content is autobiographical, later editions explored a broader, more diverse range of queer themes and narratives. A few issues of the series contained superhero-themed stories, which were generally humour-driven. The content of Gay Comix/cs primarily focused on depicting gay relationships, personal experiences, and humour rather than being centred around sexual content. This was something Cruse was adamant about. Aware that gay people were frequently portrayed as caricatures in popular culture, defined solely by who they had sex with, Cruse sought to publish comics that highlighted the humanity, diversity, and everyday experiences of queer people.
Issue #11 features a cover by writer and artist Robert Triptow, whose work in the 1980s and 1990s helped shape early visibility for queer narratives in sequential art. Triptow became involved with Gay Comix/cs early in its run, first contributing with issue #2. Over time, he took on a more central editorial role, succeeding Howard Cruse as editor and overseeing issues #5 through #13 between 1984 and 1991. During this period, the series continued to evolve as a key platform for queer cartoonists, balancing personal storytelling, political commentary, and experimental comic forms.
Hamilton. And on the cover is a little cheeky gay play on Batman and Robin, or perhaps the Kryptonian heroes Nightwing and Flamebird. Either way, I’m into it.
Lynx’s story is a continuation of one from issue #24, and was billed as “to be continued,” but since this was the last issue of Gay Comics, the next instalment was unfortunately never released.
So without further ado, I’m pleased to welcome Robert J. Halliwell to the blog. Robert is a Canadian writer who crafts character-driven stories with profound emotional impact, including ones that explore gay/queer identity during adolescence.
Track One
of that story was lifted from my life, though, again, the characters and specifics of the situation are a patchwork of formerly nonexistent bits. 
What is it about the romance genre, particularly regarding intimate relationships between men, that excites and inspires you? Is it simply that, as a gay man, you want to tell gay/queer stories? How do 
And Then He Pressed Play: Track One
As far as the balancing, I guess it sort of came naturally. Don’t get me wrong, I tweaked and edited and moved stuff around like every writer does, but queer joy and the harder stuff (unfortunately) go hand in hand a lot of the time. I long for a world where that’s not true, but until then, I think it’s going to be a part of any queer relationship I write in one way or another. Though maybe it’ll fade with time if I’m doing this when I’m 80 (yes please).
mentioned in ATHPP is one that I personally enjoy. I was very much a theatre kid in high school (tech, not stage, though), and 
You’ve stated, “Hate will never win in my books.” 
I was thirty-five years old when I first heard the term “Moonie,” and I do prefer to think of myself as an honorary Senshi instead. As far as reading goes, I do bounce around a bit based on mood. That said, queer stories (non-epic), fantasy and YA tend to get the most read time from me. 
BRITISH AUTHOR Thom Collins’ Basic Instincts series is a fascinating fusion of erotic thriller, crime fiction, and M/M romance, drawing unapologetically from the cinematic DNA of the 1990s erotic thriller zeitgeist, which I’m a huge fan of. The title itself is an overt nod to Basic Instinct, the 1991 genre-defining classic that remains one of Collins’ acknowledged favourite films and a clear source of inspiration. 
The M/M content is undeniably explicit, but it never feels detached from the narrative. Attraction, sex, and emotional vulnerability are woven directly into his storytelling, the danger and psychological tension that drive each novel. Collins understands a principle that many thrillers forget: desire can be just as powerful a narrative force as violence. The result is a series where erotic encounters heighten the stakes rather than feeling like interruptions to the violence—or the violence like an interruption to the eroticism. 
Now Comes the Dark, the first novel in the series, is amazing at balancing its central romance with the simmering tension of the surrounding violence. The connection between protagonists Roman and Mellon anchors the novel; it’s intensely physical, emotionally charged, and always threaded through with the awareness that what they’re building exists in a city already marked by fear and homophobic brutality. Their scenes together carry a genuine heat, but what makes them more compelling is how often that intimacy feels hard-won, almost defiant, against the instability around them.
Jason, and it works precisely because their dynamic is so immediate and absorbing. Marc’s frustration with a police force that refuses to take his brother’s death seriously sets the story in motion. Still, it’s Jason—the ex-Royal Navy Police turned private detective—who gives that grief a direction, pulling the narrative into something both investigative and deeply sensual.
The third novel in the series, Beyond the Darkness, thrives on its theatrical setting, using the rehearsal space not just as a backdrop but as a pressure cooker where performance, identity, and fear all start to blur. 
A brutal killer. An unwitting witness. A cop caught in a deadly pursuit.
RIGHT NOW, it’s a particularly tumultuous time for members of the LGBTQ+ community around the world. Many of us, myself included, have grown somewhat complacent in recent years, lulled into a false sense of security by our progress and, for many, living openly and proud.
As a minority, we will always be vulnerable to the decisions of those who choose to ignore our basic human rights, pushing us back into the shadows, trying to make us small, unseen, and unheard. It only takes one fervent bigot to rise to a position of power, spreading insidious lies and beliefs—and before we know it, the delicate tapestry of compassion and understanding that has taken so long to weave begins to unravel.
During Pride month, I feel this assortment of emotions more than at any other time of the year. Especially when I think about the tragedy at Orlando’s Pulse Nightclub in 2016, the murder of Matthew Sheppard in 1998, and the “Gay Purge” in Canada, a period of discrimination and persecution of LGBTQ+ individuals in the public service and armed forces between the 1950s and 1990s that involved the systematic identification, investigation, and expulsion of LGBTQ+ individuals, resulting in destroyed careers, lives, and mental health.
And yes, I’d rather be valued for who I am than merely tolerated. Still, I understand that, at least for now, that remains more of an aspiration than a reality.
our allies, please remain vigilant and proactive for your sake, the sake of those you love, and even strangers who are just, or maybe more, vulnerable to homophobia, transphobia, queerphobia; don’t fall into the trap of believing that all is well simply because it’s 2026.
MATTHEW PEARL’S novel, 
In contrast, 
psychological tension throughout. The novel is a biting study of ambition and moral compromise, in which nearly every interaction is shaped by what someone stands to gain. Writing, for many of the characters, is less about creation than about leverage: a means to prestige, recognition, and survival in a status-obsessed culture. As the book continues its machinations in the second half, everyone has something they want from being a writer, but very few seem to have any specific desire or passion to write just to create meaningful work.
I WANT to welcome Nicholas Young to the Blog. 
Nicholas, Under the Covered Bridge is a remarkable debut novel and a pleasure to read. I found it moving and beautifully written. Looking back on your writing journey as both a form of creative expression and the beginning of a career, who or what stands out as your greatest source of inspiration? Was there a specific moment when you thought, “Yes, now is the time to share my work publicly,” or did that shift happen gradually? How do you navigate that sense of vulnerability and the inevitable critiques, positive and negative (or worse—neutrality!) that come with it?
Thinking about the novel’s structure, memory itself feels almost animate, like something Kaveh is in constant dialogue with; it’s something he revisits and even writes toward, as if it might answer back. The act of remembering seems less about preserving the past and more about emotionally negotiating with it, a form of processing in the wake of loss. Kaveh tells his story by writing to someone from his past, revisiting and reinterpreting memories as he goes. 
Alongside the novel’s lyrical prose, which gives the narrative a reflective, almost autobiographical tone, the use of Québécois French throughout feels seamlessly integrated. It doesn’t read as an aesthetic flourish, but as something carrying real emotional weight. The bilingual texture also seems to speak to the book’s broader meditation on identity—not only queer identity but also cultural identity. 
Nicholas, being an openly queer Canadian writer (I relate to that!), do you think your sexuality influences your writing in subtle, perhaps subconscious ways that naturally give it a gay/queer-centred perspective, or is your focus on LGBTQ+ themes something you engage with more deliberately and intentionally?
Until May 31, 2026, all proceeds from the sale of a limited-edition Under the Covered Bridge, featuring a Rainbow Bridge–inspired cover, will be donated to the Ottawa Stray Cat Rescue in memory of Nicholas’ kitty, Gryffin, who recently passed. This special edition will be available exclusively on Amazon and will not be offered after this time, except through select events and book boxes. You can purchase it 
CANADIAN AUTHOR Robert J. Halliwell’s 
That’s a difficult balance to strike, and while it may feel jarring at times, it’s also a mark of the author’s willingness to push beyond the genre’s comfort zone—and Halliwell does this excellently. Similar to another LGBTQ book I recently read, 
particularly coming-out or first-love stories—and I include myself, for the most part, in that group—
BIRTHDAYS ALWAYS make me think about random, specific moments from my life. Good, bad, and odd. Like that one time my parents forgot my 18th birthday. Yes, I got Molly Ringwalded—totally. My mom loves when I bring this up, especially at special occasion parties. [Insert sarcastic laugh here.] And if you’ve previously heard this story from me, well, here it is again.
I also had to pick out my own gift, again at the mall. Yes, they hadn’t gotten me anything yet, either. I was incensed (and you could say entitled, sure, but it was my 18th birthday, after all. Special, right?).
The winning bidder turned out to be a woman named Karen. After the auction, she introduced herself further in an email: she was a writer. She mentioned she was planning a book about Catwoman someday, which was why she bought the book, but at that moment, she was deep into another project: a history of the Woolworth’s department store. In the course of finishing up our transaction, she noticed I was from Ontario and asked if I had any memories of Woolworth’s in Canada.
the traditional sense, but a part of it was still mine—a small piece of my life woven into a larger history for a wider audience to read. It feels special, in what it represents, especially now that my Nan has passed.
Last year during Pride Month, I had the pleasure of interviewing queer horror author
haunting narrative and deepens its emotional and psychological resonance, offering both new readers and returning fans a richer, more immersive experience. By expanding the story’s scope and refining its conclusion, he invites us to reconsider not only the fate of Andrew Fineman but also the uneasy boundaries between reality, belief, and fear. 
Some people like ambiguous endings, and some don’t. I enjoy them. I also like not having everything explained and tied up with a neat bow. With the novella length, it’s always a struggle to find the best point to stop the story. Originally, the story ended with a kind of “quiet after the storm” moment, but as I revisited it, I felt I hadn’t done Andrew’s friend, Christine, the proper justice. She’s an unlikable character, and so is Andrew. 
I lived through the 80s, and a much smaller version of Andrew’s experiences. The book is dedicated to my high school boyfriend, Dwight Glass, who later passed away from complications of HIV. I see a lot of Andrew in my memories of him. [Image of Dwight on the right.] 