Bleeding Mars turns you gay

My boyfriend made this ad for our gay space vampire book! We spent 5 years writing it together, filling it with depression and gay kissing, and it's .99¢ for spooky week 🏳️‍🌈🪐🩸

We successfully fooled Barnes & Nobles into carrying our weird gay vampire book, but we've been having a hard time finding our people...

Because we write about trans and gay characters, Amazon always shows our book to MM and BL readers, but it's not a romance. It's a cyberpunk dystopian about immortal billionaires sucking the working class dry. It's about the struggles of poverty, dysphoria, and despair that my partner and I have been through together. It's dark, and bloody, and weird, but it's also funny and a little sexy—like us! (maybe?)

So if you fellow weirdos could help us find our audience, it would mean the world to us 💜

I turned thirty today, and I can’t say I’ve done anything meaningful with my life. I think about people like Mark Zuckerberg, Chappell Roan, or Jake Paul—and the things they had achieved by the time they’d experienced the Earth orbiting the sun this many times—and I compare myself. Is my lack of achievement the result of a personal failing, or just cosmic luck?

"Of course it isn’t a personal failing," you say. "You were born with a certain set of genes, in a certain household, raised a certain way, none of which you had control over, and that’s why you ended up the way you did. That’s how life works. You don’t get to choose where you end up."

That's right; a bruised apple doesn't choose where it fell from the tree. But we still pass a value judgment on it. So maybe your roll of the cosmic dice really does determine the value of your life. When you look at tragedy, you can’t deny that some people are born to suffer. So maybe I ought to be grateful things weren’t worse for me. They could have been much worse.

Some people are born to make others suffer, too. The minerals in our iPhones and all that... When you think about the Mark Zuckerbergs and the Andrew Carnegies and the King Croesuses—all the very rich men that time will forget—their lives of pleasure lead to incredible amounts of suffering. It makes me think that maybe a good life is one that’s especially forgettable.

Still, I’d like to make something before I die. I’d like to scribble something as beautiful as Clair de Lune for people to chew on before we’re all forgotten.

I think I’ll start writing a little every day until I get there. I hope I have enough time left to make it.

Are you tired of the humdrum life on Earth? Sick of the same old routine, the same old sun, the same old mortality? Then hop aboard the next interplanetary shuttle and book a ticket to Mars—an unparalleled retreat for the rich, the undead, and those with a penchant for everlasting indulgence.

Bleeding Mars isn’t just a book—it’s the ultimate exclusive resort, where the vampires reign supreme and every moment is an endless celebration of eternal night. The vampiric elite indulge in luxury beyond your wildest dreams, while you, dear human, are merely a delightful amuse-bouche between feasts.

We didn't have too much money to spend on it or too many people to share it with, but we've connected with so many new friends after publishing our weird gay book together.

Are you looking for a book packed with trans rage and gay kissing? 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

Looking for something moody, spooky, and unapologetically political? 🥀🦇

I've pledged 100% of Bleeding Mars's sales this month to the Trevor Project, and I'm looking for more indie authors to make charity pledges too!

You can learn more about my project to create a searchable list of authors pledging a % of sales at my website: https://asherquazar.com/bap

I started growing saffron years ago for research because I needed a cash crop for the Martian colony in my novel. Saffron made a perfect fit for a dry, cold environment, but it also carried thematic weight that these impoverished Martians were slaving away picking little red threads worth more than their weight in gold.

By growing it myself, I learned that it actually stains your fingers yellow and it smells like candied dates mixed with baked bread.

It's about a trans college dropout who gets framed for an industrial malfunction by the crappy mega-corporation he works for, so he has to run away to the capital city of Mars. The planet is ruled by blood-drinking immortal billionaires who swear they're not vampires. All that blood-drinking stuff is strictly medical.

The MC stumbles his way into a job at a luxury casino where he's selected to be the host for an eccentric, androgynous immortal who's got more money than god and a bad attitude. He could pay off the MC’s debt for him, or he could just eat him instead…

🏳️‍🌈🪐🩸🏳️‍🌈🪐🩸🏳️‍🌈🪐🩸🏳️‍🌈🪐🩸🏳️‍🌈🪐🩸

Bleeding Mars! The gay space vampire book! 

🦇🩸🦇🩸🦇🩸🦇🩸🦇🩸🦇