I've written several seasonal stories, Christmas, Valentine's etc, but my new one, Laying Down for The Law released by MLR Press is among my favorites.
Steve Reynolds has a great job, a snazzy apartment in Los Angeles, and some good friends. What he doesn't have is a date for the upcoming office Valentine's Day party. When he tackles a burglar in his apartment, he winds up in the arms of LAPD Officer Richard Malone. Has Cupid brought Steve the ideal Valentine's date-or a man who might just turn Steve's ordered life upside down?
Excerpt:
February 4th 2011
I hate it when I can't sleep. All kinds of crazy things go tumbling through my mind--things I should have said, things I should have done, things I shouldn't have said or done. This particular night was one of those. I tossed and turned 'til I eventually gave up, and was about to turn the bedside lamp back on and pick up the book I'd been reading before trying to reach the land of Nod.
Then I heard it.
At first I wasn't sure what it was. A rustling sound. Had I left the living room window open? No, it was a tad too cold outside for that. I lay in the dark, perfectly still, ears straining to pick up the slightest trace of any movement beyond my open bedroom door. I heard it again, and this time it most definitely sounded like someone was walking across the carpeted living room floor.
Oh, shit.
Times like this it would be good to have someone lying in bed next me. Trouble is they'd have been gone by now anyway. I never invited sleepovers ...
Trying to be quieter than a mouse I slipped out of bed, grabbed the pair of boxer briefs I'd discarded on the floor, pulled them on and tip-toed towards the door. Now I am not the big and brave and stalwart type. At five eight and a hundred and forty pounds I am most definitely a lightweight, but I work out and I'm pretty wiry, so I figured as long as whoever was in my apartment without my permission wasn't Colossus, I could probably, if I took him by surprise, take him down.
As it turned out he took me by surprise. I squealed--the only word for it I'm afraid as an arm was wrapped around my neck and I was pushed to the floor, a heavy weight on top of me. My attacker started banging my head on the floor--thank God for upgraded carpet padding. On the tile floor in the kitchen my head would have been mush.
"Get the fuck off me," I yelled, arching my back in an attempt to dislodge whoever the hell was beating me up. I managed to twist my body just enough to free my left hand and deliver a punch to the side of his head that probably hurt me more than it did him. "Ow!" Shit, that did hurt, but he must have been surprised by my attempt to fight back because suddenly the weight covering me was gone and the son of a bitch was heading for the door.
"Oh, no you don't," I roared, giving chase. Whoever said reason rules the mind hadn't done a study on gay guys who've just been attacked in their own apartment and had their heads banged against the floor. I was mad, seeing red, even in the dark, and that creep who'd been trying to rob me, of what exactly I wasn't sure at that moment, wasn't going to get away with it. I grabbed his arm, he pushed me away, I grabbed him again, he wrenched the door open, pushing me away again, this time with a lot more force. I stumbled backwards, he shot through the door, I charged after him, and both us ran into the arms of three uniformed cops.
When I say ‘ran into the arms' I mean that quite literally, at least in my case. The would-be robber was tackled none too gently by two of the cops, forced to the ground and handcuffed in what seemed to me in the blink of an eye. I meanwhile, was being held in the strong arms of the third cop, who was chuckling.
"Okay, sir--we got him," he said, still chuckling. "No need to beat up on him anymore."
"He was beating me up," I snapped, glaring at the felon who was now yanked to his feet, looking suitably pissed off at being caught. Still fuming I glanced up at the policeman who had released me from his arms presumably convinced I was no longer a threat to the criminals of Los Angeles--and gulped.
Oh. My. God. The guy was absolutely gorgeous. Despite the fact I had almost been beaten senseless, had engaged in a rough and tumble with a man much bigger than me, and was now surrounded by LAPD's finest, I felt the heat of arousal unfurl in my briefs. I had to physically restrain myself from jumping back into his arms. Taller than me--well, nearly everyone I know is taller than me--but built. His eyes, still twinkling with amusement were a forest green under dark feathered eyebrows, his nose long and straight and his mouth, slightly curled at the corners was full and--totally kissable.
Quit staring! My reason, finally returning, made me step back and drop my eyes from his beautiful face to the metal name tag on his uniform that read, Malone.
"Hey, Rich," one of the other cops said, interrupting my silent worship, "why don't you get the gentleman's statement while we take this one in?"
"Sure thing..." Officer Rich Malone smiled at me. "Wanna go back inside and tell me what happened?"
Buy Link: http://www.mlrbooks.com/ShowBook.php?book=JPBLALAW
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Vampire Kisses
Hi everyone welcome to Victoria's Sunday Snog. - Here's a taste of Valentine's vampire love from Blood Lure - part of the series My Vampire and I:
Tommy, a firefighter has rescued Andrew from a hotel fire unaware that the man is a vampire. Several days later they meet again...
I'm offering a free copy of this story or if you would prefer any ebook from my website: http://wwwjpbowie.com
BLOOD LURE:
Tommy was glad he had the next twenty four hours off. It had been the week from hell, and even he, in his near perfect physical condition, was feeling the toll of too many long shifts—dealing with the hotel fire on Robinson, then an apartment fire that had taken hours to contain. Then there had been that weird situation with the guy he’d rescued from the hotel fire—Andrew.
He’d checked with the paramedics who were supposed to have taken Andrew to the hospital and they’d looked at him like he had three heads. Even his buddy Alex didn’t seem to remember much about the incident, and when he’d gone to check the log there was no mention of them handing a hotel guest over to the paramedics.
Yet, he knew he wasn’t mistaken. Andrew had locked eyes with him, they’d recognised each other, he’d called Andrew’s friend just like he’d been asked to—then … then, he wasn’t sure about the rest, but somehow Andrew had ended up being looked after, successfully it seemed, by these friends.
They had to be awful good doctors because Andrew had been really sick. Close to death, really.
Yet, when he’d spoken to him on the phone he’d sounded good. Maybe it just hadn’t been as serious as he’d first thought. But there had been all that blood.
And he hadn’t heard from the guy. That hurt. He’d been so sure Andrew had been sincere about them getting together. He’d tried calling the number Andrew had given him—that Jared whatever his last name was—but there had been no reply, no voice mail to leave a message. Why the hell hadn’t he thought to ask for Andrew’s cell number?
Oh well, chalk it up to just a bout of anonymous sex. Except it hadn’t been anonymous, and the memory of Andrew’s beautiful eyes, luscious lips and sexy accent just wouldn’t fade from his memory.
Damn, but he needed to get laid!
He’d celebrated his time off by taking a long leisurely bath then cracking a Bud light. Now he lolled on the couch, beer in hand, wearing only his boxer briefs and fiddling with the remote trying to find something worthwhile on the television. Maybe he’d go out later…
A knock at the door startled him.
Can’t be Alex, he thought, padding over to the door, he’s on duty ‘til tomorrow morning. He pressed his eye to the peephole just in case it was someone he should put more clothes on for. His breath quickened.
Andrew.
He flung open the door, a big welcoming smile on his face.
Andrew’s eyes gleamed as they skimmed over Tommy’s naked torso, but his answering smile was shy.
“I hope you don’t mind me just dropping by like this?”
“No, not at all. Come in, come in.”
Tommy beamed some more as Andrew stepped inside, and was glad he’d taken a few minutes to tidy up some after his bath.
“How do you feel? You look good—amazingly good, considering. Hey, how’d you know where I lived?”
Andrew chuckled. “You’re listed in the phone book.”
“Oh, right… Duh. Well, I’m real glad you came by.”
“I wanted to see you, Tommy, and thank you again for all you did for me the other night.” Andrew reached out and touched Tommy’s face gently with his fingertips. “I would have undoubtedly died, but for you.”
Tommy tangled Andrew’s fingers with his. “Not on my watch,” he said huskily. He raised Andrew’s hand to his lips and kissed the cool palm. Their eyes met and Tommy whispered, “God, but you are beautiful. That night in the club, I remember only some of it. God knows why. I should remember it all. It was—you were wonderful.”
Andrew could hear the countless questions forming in Tommy’s mind. Questions he could not yet answer. Answers that Tommy would never understand. If the time ever came when Tommy should know the truth, he would have to be told in the most careful and gentle way possible. But for now, Andrew only wished to bring the handsome fire-fighter pleasure. He owed this man his life; it was the very least he could do. While their eyes were still locked on one another, a quick mental pulse calmed the confusion in Tommy’s mind.
Andrew moved into Tommy’s embrace, and their parted lips met in a scorching kiss, tongues tussling, probing, breath mingling, setting each man’s senses on fire. Andrew felt the power in his new blood course through him, heightening his awareness of Tommy’s scent, his taste, the warmth of his skin, all of it fantaszticus. A low growl rumbled up from his throat and Tommy tightened his arms around him.
“Oh, yeah…” The young fire fighter breathed his desire into Andrew’s mouth. “My thoughts exactly.”
They didn’t make it to the bedroom. As if of one mind, they both sank to their knees, their mouths still locked together, Andrew’s arms around Tommy so tight he had to remember to ease up just a little in case he cracked the sweet man’s ribs. Andrew fell backwards, bringing Tommy down on top of him. His mouth settled on Tommy’s neck and the scent and the lure of the young man’s blood almost drove him mad with desire.
Not yet, not yet, not this time…
His hands slid down the length of Tommy’s sleek, muscled body, ripping away the fabric of Tommy’s boxers, to cup the round swell of his ass and pull him in against his own stone-hard erection. Tommy was tugging at the buttons on Andrew’s shirt. In his impatience to feel Tommy’s naked body pressed to his own, Andrew threw caution to the wind and willed his own clothes gone.
Tommy didn’t even seem to notice, just started feasting on Andrew’s nipples, all the while giving out little moans and sighs of appreciation. Tommy’s mouth moved sensuously over Andrew’s chest, teasing the dusting of black hair between his teeth, licking and nibbling at Andrew’s nipples until the vampire thought even he could not bear it a moment longer.
Was it simply because he had gone so long without this exquisite intimacy, or did this young man possess some kind of sexual enchantment that made Andrew crave his touch like he had no other, since Jared? Whatever the reason, it was all he wanted right then. He pushed his fingers through the thick blond hair on Tommy’s head, murmured something in his ecstasy that was incomprehensible even to himself, and Tommy’s mouth slid into Andrew’s armpit, his tongue burrowing hard into the cool scented flesh, taking long and languid strokes that had Andrew gasping his pleasure out loud.
“Oh, yeah…” Tommy’s mumbled approval vibrated on Andrew’s skin, sending tingling jolts through his body. He clasped Tommy tighter and rolled him onto his back. Tommy gazed up at him, his lips slightly lifted in a wanton smile.
“You are so fuckin’ hot, Andrew.”
“And you are the most wonderful mort—man I have ever met.” Andrew almost laughed at his near mistake. He would wager anything and everything that Tommy had never before been called a mortal.
“Mortman?” Tommy’s hands caressed Andrew’s butt. “Is that Hungarian for something?” he asked, his voice low and husky, a teasing light in his eyes.
“No…” Andrew’s eyes met Tommy’s, and there was sincerity in that look. “The Hungarian word—or rather, words—for you are, Csodálatos minden tekintetben.”
“Whoa, that’s kind of a mouthful. What’s it mean?”
“It means…” Andrew laid his lips on Tommy’s, then whispered, “Wonderful in every way.”
“Mmm… Same goes for you.” Tommy curved his strong, limber body into Andrew’s. The fit was perfection. His lips parted under the pressure of Andrew’s demanding kiss. Once again their tongues filled each other’s mouths, intensifying their desire, their bodies writhing together, their swollen cocks sparring like dancing sabres. Tommy whimpered and struggled under Andrew.
“Want to taste you. Want to have what you wouldn’t let me have last time.”
Tommy, a firefighter has rescued Andrew from a hotel fire unaware that the man is a vampire. Several days later they meet again...
I'm offering a free copy of this story or if you would prefer any ebook from my website: http://wwwjpbowie.com
BLOOD LURE:
Tommy was glad he had the next twenty four hours off. It had been the week from hell, and even he, in his near perfect physical condition, was feeling the toll of too many long shifts—dealing with the hotel fire on Robinson, then an apartment fire that had taken hours to contain. Then there had been that weird situation with the guy he’d rescued from the hotel fire—Andrew.
He’d checked with the paramedics who were supposed to have taken Andrew to the hospital and they’d looked at him like he had three heads. Even his buddy Alex didn’t seem to remember much about the incident, and when he’d gone to check the log there was no mention of them handing a hotel guest over to the paramedics.
Yet, he knew he wasn’t mistaken. Andrew had locked eyes with him, they’d recognised each other, he’d called Andrew’s friend just like he’d been asked to—then … then, he wasn’t sure about the rest, but somehow Andrew had ended up being looked after, successfully it seemed, by these friends.
They had to be awful good doctors because Andrew had been really sick. Close to death, really.
Yet, when he’d spoken to him on the phone he’d sounded good. Maybe it just hadn’t been as serious as he’d first thought. But there had been all that blood.
And he hadn’t heard from the guy. That hurt. He’d been so sure Andrew had been sincere about them getting together. He’d tried calling the number Andrew had given him—that Jared whatever his last name was—but there had been no reply, no voice mail to leave a message. Why the hell hadn’t he thought to ask for Andrew’s cell number?
Oh well, chalk it up to just a bout of anonymous sex. Except it hadn’t been anonymous, and the memory of Andrew’s beautiful eyes, luscious lips and sexy accent just wouldn’t fade from his memory.
Damn, but he needed to get laid!
He’d celebrated his time off by taking a long leisurely bath then cracking a Bud light. Now he lolled on the couch, beer in hand, wearing only his boxer briefs and fiddling with the remote trying to find something worthwhile on the television. Maybe he’d go out later…
A knock at the door startled him.
Can’t be Alex, he thought, padding over to the door, he’s on duty ‘til tomorrow morning. He pressed his eye to the peephole just in case it was someone he should put more clothes on for. His breath quickened.
Andrew.
He flung open the door, a big welcoming smile on his face.
Andrew’s eyes gleamed as they skimmed over Tommy’s naked torso, but his answering smile was shy.
“I hope you don’t mind me just dropping by like this?”
“No, not at all. Come in, come in.”
Tommy beamed some more as Andrew stepped inside, and was glad he’d taken a few minutes to tidy up some after his bath.
“How do you feel? You look good—amazingly good, considering. Hey, how’d you know where I lived?”
Andrew chuckled. “You’re listed in the phone book.”
“Oh, right… Duh. Well, I’m real glad you came by.”
“I wanted to see you, Tommy, and thank you again for all you did for me the other night.” Andrew reached out and touched Tommy’s face gently with his fingertips. “I would have undoubtedly died, but for you.”
Tommy tangled Andrew’s fingers with his. “Not on my watch,” he said huskily. He raised Andrew’s hand to his lips and kissed the cool palm. Their eyes met and Tommy whispered, “God, but you are beautiful. That night in the club, I remember only some of it. God knows why. I should remember it all. It was—you were wonderful.”
Andrew could hear the countless questions forming in Tommy’s mind. Questions he could not yet answer. Answers that Tommy would never understand. If the time ever came when Tommy should know the truth, he would have to be told in the most careful and gentle way possible. But for now, Andrew only wished to bring the handsome fire-fighter pleasure. He owed this man his life; it was the very least he could do. While their eyes were still locked on one another, a quick mental pulse calmed the confusion in Tommy’s mind.
Andrew moved into Tommy’s embrace, and their parted lips met in a scorching kiss, tongues tussling, probing, breath mingling, setting each man’s senses on fire. Andrew felt the power in his new blood course through him, heightening his awareness of Tommy’s scent, his taste, the warmth of his skin, all of it fantaszticus. A low growl rumbled up from his throat and Tommy tightened his arms around him.
“Oh, yeah…” The young fire fighter breathed his desire into Andrew’s mouth. “My thoughts exactly.”
They didn’t make it to the bedroom. As if of one mind, they both sank to their knees, their mouths still locked together, Andrew’s arms around Tommy so tight he had to remember to ease up just a little in case he cracked the sweet man’s ribs. Andrew fell backwards, bringing Tommy down on top of him. His mouth settled on Tommy’s neck and the scent and the lure of the young man’s blood almost drove him mad with desire.
Not yet, not yet, not this time…
His hands slid down the length of Tommy’s sleek, muscled body, ripping away the fabric of Tommy’s boxers, to cup the round swell of his ass and pull him in against his own stone-hard erection. Tommy was tugging at the buttons on Andrew’s shirt. In his impatience to feel Tommy’s naked body pressed to his own, Andrew threw caution to the wind and willed his own clothes gone.
Tommy didn’t even seem to notice, just started feasting on Andrew’s nipples, all the while giving out little moans and sighs of appreciation. Tommy’s mouth moved sensuously over Andrew’s chest, teasing the dusting of black hair between his teeth, licking and nibbling at Andrew’s nipples until the vampire thought even he could not bear it a moment longer.
Was it simply because he had gone so long without this exquisite intimacy, or did this young man possess some kind of sexual enchantment that made Andrew crave his touch like he had no other, since Jared? Whatever the reason, it was all he wanted right then. He pushed his fingers through the thick blond hair on Tommy’s head, murmured something in his ecstasy that was incomprehensible even to himself, and Tommy’s mouth slid into Andrew’s armpit, his tongue burrowing hard into the cool scented flesh, taking long and languid strokes that had Andrew gasping his pleasure out loud.
“Oh, yeah…” Tommy’s mumbled approval vibrated on Andrew’s skin, sending tingling jolts through his body. He clasped Tommy tighter and rolled him onto his back. Tommy gazed up at him, his lips slightly lifted in a wanton smile.
“You are so fuckin’ hot, Andrew.”
“And you are the most wonderful mort—man I have ever met.” Andrew almost laughed at his near mistake. He would wager anything and everything that Tommy had never before been called a mortal.
“Mortman?” Tommy’s hands caressed Andrew’s butt. “Is that Hungarian for something?” he asked, his voice low and husky, a teasing light in his eyes.
“No…” Andrew’s eyes met Tommy’s, and there was sincerity in that look. “The Hungarian word—or rather, words—for you are, Csodálatos minden tekintetben.”
“Whoa, that’s kind of a mouthful. What’s it mean?”
“It means…” Andrew laid his lips on Tommy’s, then whispered, “Wonderful in every way.”
“Mmm… Same goes for you.” Tommy curved his strong, limber body into Andrew’s. The fit was perfection. His lips parted under the pressure of Andrew’s demanding kiss. Once again their tongues filled each other’s mouths, intensifying their desire, their bodies writhing together, their swollen cocks sparring like dancing sabres. Tommy whimpered and struggled under Andrew.
“Want to taste you. Want to have what you wouldn’t let me have last time.”
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Super Review for A Ghost Story
This review is from Miz Love Reviews - and I can't thank her enough!
I wondered when another Golden Nib book would come our way—and here it is! A Ghost Story ticked every box for me and left me wanting more, wishing it would go on forever. It starts off in the past, and let me tell you, the writing and voice is out of this world. I settled down thinking it was an historical, loving every minute of it, but it switches to contemporary. And there we have another treat, another side of J.P. Bowie’s talent. The contemporary voice was different but no less excellent—very British, so if you like the English way, this is definitely the book for you.
The historical opener drew me in. I was right there, readers! I saw the gathering, felt the spite emanating off a certain person, and wanted to read more about this section of the tale. The characters are delightfully real, a big splash on the page. At this point I’d to say a historical by this author would be at the top of my wish list, hint hint!
Jamie and Kevin (contemp characters), along with Jamie’s adorable mother and sweet niece, are a set of characters who also came alive while I was reading. I loved the way Jamie’s mother didn’t bat an eyelid that Jamie is gay—it was nothing to write home about at all for her. The instant chemistry between Jamie and Kevin is a joy to experience, and wanting them to get together is a strong pull on the heart strings.
The later scenes where the spirits battle is gripping, and the explanation as to why Kevin and Laura can see and hear spirits is sad yet understandable.
Best Bits: The historical introduction.
Verdict: One word: stunning. Actually, here are two more: buy it!
Buy Now!
I wondered when another Golden Nib book would come our way—and here it is! A Ghost Story ticked every box for me and left me wanting more, wishing it would go on forever. It starts off in the past, and let me tell you, the writing and voice is out of this world. I settled down thinking it was an historical, loving every minute of it, but it switches to contemporary. And there we have another treat, another side of J.P. Bowie’s talent. The contemporary voice was different but no less excellent—very British, so if you like the English way, this is definitely the book for you.
The historical opener drew me in. I was right there, readers! I saw the gathering, felt the spite emanating off a certain person, and wanted to read more about this section of the tale. The characters are delightfully real, a big splash on the page. At this point I’d to say a historical by this author would be at the top of my wish list, hint hint!
Jamie and Kevin (contemp characters), along with Jamie’s adorable mother and sweet niece, are a set of characters who also came alive while I was reading. I loved the way Jamie’s mother didn’t bat an eyelid that Jamie is gay—it was nothing to write home about at all for her. The instant chemistry between Jamie and Kevin is a joy to experience, and wanting them to get together is a strong pull on the heart strings.
The later scenes where the spirits battle is gripping, and the explanation as to why Kevin and Laura can see and hear spirits is sad yet understandable.
Best Bits: The historical introduction.
Verdict: One word: stunning. Actually, here are two more: buy it!
Buy Now!
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Sunday Snog - in Victorian England
This excerpt is from The Officer and the Gentleman - Robert MacDonald, a young Scotsman recently made heir to his grandfather's fortune attends a soiree at a fashionable townhome in London where he meets Captain Charles Wentworth, an officer in the Royal Hussars:
The rain had indeed ceased, and the night had taken on a balmy feel. A gentle breeze ruffled Robert’s curls as he and Charles stood together looking down across the verdant sweep of the lawn, only just visible beneath the lightening sky.
For a while, neither man spoke then Charles turned and smiled at Robert. “May I say, sir, that you are a very pleasant addition to my aunt’s usually rather boring soirees?”
“Thank you.” Robert felt his cheeks glow at the compliment. “And may I say that I did not expect to meet a dashing cavalry officer this evening?”
Charles chuckled. “Emily been keeping me a secret, has she?”
“She mentioned in passing that she had a brother…”
“Only in passing?” Charles affected mock displeasure. “I shall have to have words with my dear sister.”
“She did say I would like you. And in that,” Robert added shyly, “she is correct.”
“Then I have forgiven her already.” Charles met Robert’s eyes, and Robert had to fight the urge that threatened to overwhelm him. The urge to forget all propriety and fling his arms about Charles, hold him pressed to his own eager body and taste the sweetness of his full lips. He trembled from the need building inside him. His cock throbbed and pushed against the front of his trousers, and he flushed with embarrassment at the sight he must now present.
“Shall we stroll a little?” Charles suggested.
Robert could not find his voice to reply but simply nodded once, so sharply he almost did his neck an injury.
They walked down the steps that led to the garden path and were soon swallowed by the darkness, the moon having scudded behind some clouds that loomed overhead. They paused to look back at the brightly lit house, from which emanated the sound of voices and laughter. Robert jumped slightly as he felt Charles slip an arm around his waist, then he leaned against the strong body and let himself be steered towards a large oak tree.
“No one can see us here,” Charles said, his voice low and strangely husky. He pulled Robert into his arms and held him, his lips a mere inch from Robert’s, his breath sweet and warm on Robert’s skin.
“Dear God,” Robert heard himself whisper as Charles kissed him. His lips were taken by a moist warmth that caused his head to thrum. For a moment, he thought he might swoon then he was kissing Charles back, his lips parting to let the other man’s tongue slip inside his mouth. Charles moaned, and his erection ground against Robert’s. Both men shuddered as their desire swept through them. Their arms tightened about one another, their kiss deepened, tongues meshing, tussling, caressing…
All too soon, Charles broke away, slightly out of breath. “Not here, Robert. Not here amongst this mud and wet grass.”
Robert thought he might fall over without Charles to support him. He reached out and gripped Charles by the shoulders.
“You…you’re right,” he stammered. “It wouldna’ do for our first time. I have rooms in Mayfair, if you would do me the honour of accompanying me there.”
“I am the one who would be honoured, Robert.”
“How can we make our excuses?”
“I’m staying at the officer’s club in Marylebone while I’m in town. I will tell my aunt that I’m taking you there to introduce you around to the chaps, that kind of thing.”
“Excellent. Let’s away then.”
Charles chuckled. “Patience, Robert. Though I am flattered at your eagerness, we must not just rush away. We’ll go in and chat for little while then—”
“Every second we tarry will seem like an hour.”
“And every hour we spend together will seem like a second,” Charles murmured, kissing Robert’s lips gently. “Come now, let us go in.”
Just before they entered, Charles turned to study Robert in the light thrown onto the terrace from the salon. Gently, he brushed down the lapels of Robert’s coat and straightened his collar.
“There,” he said his voice once again strangely husky. “You are quite presentable, sir.”
The rain had indeed ceased, and the night had taken on a balmy feel. A gentle breeze ruffled Robert’s curls as he and Charles stood together looking down across the verdant sweep of the lawn, only just visible beneath the lightening sky.
For a while, neither man spoke then Charles turned and smiled at Robert. “May I say, sir, that you are a very pleasant addition to my aunt’s usually rather boring soirees?”
“Thank you.” Robert felt his cheeks glow at the compliment. “And may I say that I did not expect to meet a dashing cavalry officer this evening?”
Charles chuckled. “Emily been keeping me a secret, has she?”
“She mentioned in passing that she had a brother…”
“Only in passing?” Charles affected mock displeasure. “I shall have to have words with my dear sister.”
“She did say I would like you. And in that,” Robert added shyly, “she is correct.”
“Then I have forgiven her already.” Charles met Robert’s eyes, and Robert had to fight the urge that threatened to overwhelm him. The urge to forget all propriety and fling his arms about Charles, hold him pressed to his own eager body and taste the sweetness of his full lips. He trembled from the need building inside him. His cock throbbed and pushed against the front of his trousers, and he flushed with embarrassment at the sight he must now present.
“Shall we stroll a little?” Charles suggested.
Robert could not find his voice to reply but simply nodded once, so sharply he almost did his neck an injury.
They walked down the steps that led to the garden path and were soon swallowed by the darkness, the moon having scudded behind some clouds that loomed overhead. They paused to look back at the brightly lit house, from which emanated the sound of voices and laughter. Robert jumped slightly as he felt Charles slip an arm around his waist, then he leaned against the strong body and let himself be steered towards a large oak tree.
“No one can see us here,” Charles said, his voice low and strangely husky. He pulled Robert into his arms and held him, his lips a mere inch from Robert’s, his breath sweet and warm on Robert’s skin.
“Dear God,” Robert heard himself whisper as Charles kissed him. His lips were taken by a moist warmth that caused his head to thrum. For a moment, he thought he might swoon then he was kissing Charles back, his lips parting to let the other man’s tongue slip inside his mouth. Charles moaned, and his erection ground against Robert’s. Both men shuddered as their desire swept through them. Their arms tightened about one another, their kiss deepened, tongues meshing, tussling, caressing…
All too soon, Charles broke away, slightly out of breath. “Not here, Robert. Not here amongst this mud and wet grass.”
Robert thought he might fall over without Charles to support him. He reached out and gripped Charles by the shoulders.
“You…you’re right,” he stammered. “It wouldna’ do for our first time. I have rooms in Mayfair, if you would do me the honour of accompanying me there.”
“I am the one who would be honoured, Robert.”
“How can we make our excuses?”
“I’m staying at the officer’s club in Marylebone while I’m in town. I will tell my aunt that I’m taking you there to introduce you around to the chaps, that kind of thing.”
“Excellent. Let’s away then.”
Charles chuckled. “Patience, Robert. Though I am flattered at your eagerness, we must not just rush away. We’ll go in and chat for little while then—”
“Every second we tarry will seem like an hour.”
“And every hour we spend together will seem like a second,” Charles murmured, kissing Robert’s lips gently. “Come now, let us go in.”
Just before they entered, Charles turned to study Robert in the light thrown onto the terrace from the salon. Gently, he brushed down the lapels of Robert’s coat and straightened his collar.
“There,” he said his voice once again strangely husky. “You are quite presentable, sir.”
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Sunday Snog
This is from my new Valentine's Day shortie - Laying Down For the Law - due out Feb from MLR Press - more details later:
After Steve and his cop buddy Rich go out on their first date, Rich gently refuses an invitation to go back to Steve's apartment...
My cell rang as I walked into my apartment. Rich? I glanced at the caller ID. No, Betty.
“Hi, Betty.”
“Steve, hope you don’t mind me calling this late, but I had to tell you, you won’t be dateless at the party. I went ahead and asked Angela to bring her brother, Kent, and he said yes, so you have a date. Isn’t that great?’
“Betty, I already have a date,” I said with some impatience. What was she, my personal yenta?
“But you said you didn’t!” she moaned.
“And now I do. His name is Rich, you’ll like him.”
“Oh, what am I going to do about Kent? He’ll be the one who’s dateless now.”
“Maybe you could ask around again, you know like you did for me. Sorry…” I was distracted by the sound of a knock on my door. “Gotta go, Betty, someone’s at the door, Bye.”
She was still protesting when I hung up. I wondered who it could be at this time of night. Most of my friends called before they came over and rarely this late. I swung the door open and nearly yelped with surprise.
“Rich. Is something wrong?”
“Yeah. Can I come in?”
“Of course. What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I’m a damned fool, that’s what’s wrong,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “I told myself before we met tonight that no matter what I was not going to make love to you on our first date, but I’d no sooner got on my bike than I cursed myself for all kinds of an idiot for turning you down when you asked if I’d come home with you. Of course I wanted to, more than I’ve ever wanted anything—so, here I am. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? Are you crazy? But I thought you said you had a—” His lips on mine shut me up and we lost ourselves in a long, long kiss that would give all those in the Guinness Book of Records a run for their money. His hands were inside my shirt, stroking my back, pushing past the waistband of my chinos, cupping my butt, his fingers slipping into the crack, teasing my hole. Wow! When he wanted something he went all out.
Our clothes were scattered round our feet in a matter of seconds, his magnificent naked body was pressed to mine, and I could scarcely believe this was really happening. It was all so amazing—he was amazing—every inch of his muscled flesh a sculptor’s dream. He wrapped his arms around me and his lips took mine again in another long bruising kiss that had us both moaning and gasping into each other’s mouths. He lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing and I wound my legs round his waist. Without breaking our kiss he headed for the bedroom door, pushing it open with his foot then depositing me on top of the bed. He lay over me, stretching his body so that every part of our nakedness was pressed together.
I was beginning to imagine I had died and been transported to Heaven. I could even hear some heavenly string section close by, then realized it was coming from the beside radio I’d been leaving on ever since the burglary attempt. That’s right—frighten off all would-be thieves with some light classical music. It seemed to fit the mood though as Rich’s lips covered mine and his tongue slid inside bringing with it an electrical jolt just as the music reached a crescendo.
Then Rich’s mouth was everywhere at once, scorching my lips, my jaw, my throat, my nipples. God! My body arched against his. I felt a rush of adrenaline flood through me. I was desperate to have Rich’s cock, to hold it in my mouth. I rolled him onto his back, no mean feat in itself, but he didn’t resist which made it easier, and I scooted down to encircle his long, thick, awesome dick with my fingers, to lick the swollen head and savor the salty cream that glistened at the slit.
After Steve and his cop buddy Rich go out on their first date, Rich gently refuses an invitation to go back to Steve's apartment...
My cell rang as I walked into my apartment. Rich? I glanced at the caller ID. No, Betty.
“Hi, Betty.”
“Steve, hope you don’t mind me calling this late, but I had to tell you, you won’t be dateless at the party. I went ahead and asked Angela to bring her brother, Kent, and he said yes, so you have a date. Isn’t that great?’
“Betty, I already have a date,” I said with some impatience. What was she, my personal yenta?
“But you said you didn’t!” she moaned.
“And now I do. His name is Rich, you’ll like him.”
“Oh, what am I going to do about Kent? He’ll be the one who’s dateless now.”
“Maybe you could ask around again, you know like you did for me. Sorry…” I was distracted by the sound of a knock on my door. “Gotta go, Betty, someone’s at the door, Bye.”
She was still protesting when I hung up. I wondered who it could be at this time of night. Most of my friends called before they came over and rarely this late. I swung the door open and nearly yelped with surprise.
“Rich. Is something wrong?”
“Yeah. Can I come in?”
“Of course. What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I’m a damned fool, that’s what’s wrong,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “I told myself before we met tonight that no matter what I was not going to make love to you on our first date, but I’d no sooner got on my bike than I cursed myself for all kinds of an idiot for turning you down when you asked if I’d come home with you. Of course I wanted to, more than I’ve ever wanted anything—so, here I am. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? Are you crazy? But I thought you said you had a—” His lips on mine shut me up and we lost ourselves in a long, long kiss that would give all those in the Guinness Book of Records a run for their money. His hands were inside my shirt, stroking my back, pushing past the waistband of my chinos, cupping my butt, his fingers slipping into the crack, teasing my hole. Wow! When he wanted something he went all out.
Our clothes were scattered round our feet in a matter of seconds, his magnificent naked body was pressed to mine, and I could scarcely believe this was really happening. It was all so amazing—he was amazing—every inch of his muscled flesh a sculptor’s dream. He wrapped his arms around me and his lips took mine again in another long bruising kiss that had us both moaning and gasping into each other’s mouths. He lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing and I wound my legs round his waist. Without breaking our kiss he headed for the bedroom door, pushing it open with his foot then depositing me on top of the bed. He lay over me, stretching his body so that every part of our nakedness was pressed together.
I was beginning to imagine I had died and been transported to Heaven. I could even hear some heavenly string section close by, then realized it was coming from the beside radio I’d been leaving on ever since the burglary attempt. That’s right—frighten off all would-be thieves with some light classical music. It seemed to fit the mood though as Rich’s lips covered mine and his tongue slid inside bringing with it an electrical jolt just as the music reached a crescendo.
Then Rich’s mouth was everywhere at once, scorching my lips, my jaw, my throat, my nipples. God! My body arched against his. I felt a rush of adrenaline flood through me. I was desperate to have Rich’s cock, to hold it in my mouth. I rolled him onto his back, no mean feat in itself, but he didn’t resist which made it easier, and I scooted down to encircle his long, thick, awesome dick with my fingers, to lick the swollen head and savor the salty cream that glistened at the slit.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Who is Megan Slayer - Cock and Bull Blog Tour
My guest today is Megan Slayer:
When she's not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don't seem to mind.
When she's not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school.
She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love, suits her fancy best.
So, off you go Megan!
I’d like to thank JP for having me here today. It’s always fun to talk about books and such. But I’m supposed to start with a little bit about myself. I never thought I was that exciting, but here goes.
Who is Megan Slayer? Megan Slayer’s bio says she’s a whip-wielding writer by night and a mom by day. That’s half true. There’s a little more to Megan. I’ve got an unhealthy addiction to Queen music, the Tudors, and dirt racing. Gotta have my dirt car races. I’ve dyed my hair almost every color, but the natural ones. I have body parts pierced and not all of them are in my ears. I started writing six years ago and really got serious about it three years ago. I spend way too much time at my laptop and more than enough time on itunes when I’m not taking care of my totlet and three vampire cabana boys.
Now that you know a little bit about me, I thought I’d share a little bit about my latest work. My newest novella is titled Permanent. I got the idea for the story born out of a short story I’d written for my blog. Basically the characters, River and Tory told me they wanted their story told. At the time, it was just a sex scene. Once I let them talk more, I realized just what River had been through. It wasn’t just a simple sex scene. Tory is pretty much a –what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy. The thing they had in common was their affection and friendship. But for their story to make sense, Tory has to learn the dirty, ugly past River carries around. Writing Permanent was both emotional for me, and sometimes really hard. Emotional because I had to go down the same roads River traveled and hard because River is a complex guy.
Speaking of complex, like writing River, writing itself is complex and rewarding. I love writing...in some ways it’s an easy question and in some ways it’s really hard. Easy because I have so many characters all talking at one time, I have to write their stories. Hard because while I love listening to them, there are times when I can’t sit down to write. I love when the characters throw a total curveball at me...just not when I’m in the middle of my totlet’s school program. But really, even then, if I scribble the idea down on a paper or napkin and make sure to get it into paper later it’s all good. I love learning about the different characters and finding out just what made them who they are.
But for every fun and exciting part of writing, there are a few things that aren’t so hot. I’ve said it before, I love writing. What I’m not so keen on? Reviews. I love hearing what readers say about my work. Its the best to get fan mail. I even like getting reviews that aren’t so hot. I use them as learning tools. But what’s hard is the reviews that simply say something like ‘this is garbage’. Maybe it shouldn’t, but those hurt. Another thing that’s hard is editing. Getting the story out is fun. Going over it to make sure it’s the best it can be, that’s great. The edits, nitpicking through the manuscript is what can be tedious. Making sure there aren’t any typos or missing words. I know it’s necessary, but sometimes, it’s evil. Thank goodness I’ve got great editors.
You might be wondering, now that you’ve read my gripes about writing, what I’m working on now. Funny you should ask. I’m working on the fourth of my Glow band books for Changeling Press. The series follows the members of the punk band, Glow. The final book has no elementals in it. The other members of the band are either elementals or involved with an elemental. Writing Hiram and Slash’s story is going well. They both love to talk and are eager to get their story going.
I’ve also started a story about a vampire who doesn’t want to be one any longer. The shine has dulled on being a creature of the night. The one small issue is when one becomes a vampire, one cannot go back. So far, Julian isn’t buying that logic.
Now writing vampires and punk rockers doesn’t happen in a vacuum. Nope. I love to read and be inspired by other authors. I love to see what others are doing and how I can turn that on it’s ear. Inspiration comes from everywhere, but the authors who have inspired me? I love Kresley Cole’s vampire and supers. Those guys rock. Another who has inspired me is KA Mitchell. She manages to take characters that are more or less very ordinary and make them memorable. It’s like reading about friends. I’d like to say I want to grow up and write like Mitchell. Really, I’d like to come into my own and have readers like what I’ve written on it’s own merits. I love to read just about anyone in the MM genre and within the erotic romance genre. Like my characters, I like the heat along with the story.
Keep in mind, the writing and the reading doesn’t happen all the time. As much as I’d like to spend my waking hours either holed up with a good book, or at my laptop writing a book, I have other time-fillers. I have an EDJ as well as a totlet, so there’s not much time for free time. Grin. But when I have a spare moment, I like to draw. I’ve always been good at art and I like it. I don’t personally race cars, but I love to watch the races on television and in person. There’s something exciting about watching cars, and especially trucks, zip around a race track. The edge of danger and control is really cool. Maybe I’ve got a daredevil streak after all.
Speaking of daredevils, seeing those drivers in action makes my heart race. If I had my druthers, I’d spend my vacation time at the race tracks. I got to go down to Charlotte to the dirt track over my birthday. Yes, its dirty. Yes, its VERY noisy. But holy cow, the combination of fast cars, sexy drivers and those suits...gets me every time. Happy shivers.
Do you want to know more about my latest work, Permanent? Here’s the blurb and a saucy excerpt!
Sometimes love just ain’t enough...
River Cortland trusted the person he loved. His faith couldn’t protect him from the bitter sting of a cold-hearted Domme. If he’s going to learn to trust again, he’s got to deal with his past. His roommate and best friend, Tory, has seen the physical damage and hasn’t walked away. Can he deal with the emotional scars as well?
Tory McClellan wanted the carefree life...until one night with River changed everything. There’s more to the shy art teacher and Tory wants to know everything-how he tastes, the scent of his skin, the feel of his body as they make love. What terror lies behind River’s brown eyes? Better yet, how can Tory make the sadness go away and be in River’s life, permanently?
Here’s a white hot excerpt, because I can.
“You suck at subtlety. I know you look when you think I don’t see and I remember the way your body reacted when I held you. I liked it.” He closed the gap between them until only a breath kept them apart. “I’m not innocent and I have done some experimenting.” He inched closer, his arm and knee bumping River’s. “But I’ve waited too long for you to make a move.”
Not innocent? Experimenting? Make a move? If River didn’t know him better, he’d think Tory was attracted to him. The guys who tried to pick River up weren’t nearly as handsome as Tory. Most of the women hardly held a candle to Tory’s natural charisma.
“River?”
River opened his mouth to reply, to tell Tory he had no idea what he wanted him to say. This will change our friendship? Duh. Being with me will seriously screw up your reputation at the station? Without a doubt. I’m head over heels in lust with you? Oh hell.
Instead of answering, River fused his lips to Tory’s. The guttural moan erupting from Tory’s throat spurred River on. He fisted the sleeve of Tory’s T-shirt in his hand. Holy fuck.
The more River tasted Tory, the more he wanted from him. River cupped Tory’s jaw, the rough stubble prickling his palm.
Tory broke the kiss long enough to click off the television. His eyelids drooped. “Take off my shirt.”
Holy shit.
River didn’t think. He acted. He’d guessed right about Tory—the guy really did have a deep-down need to dominate. Now was the time to take his chance and live out his fantasy with Tory. River yanked the hem of Tory’s shirt up over his head and tossed the discarded clothing into the hallway. His nipples beaded. Cold air? Or arousal? River wasn’t sure.
“Taste me.”
Yes, sir. River feathered kisses over Tory’s jaw, rubbing his hands against Tory’s chest. He couldn’t get close enough to him. With a gentle, but firm nudge, Tory directed River to his pecs. River loved the firm texture of male nipples. Women’s were soft and forgiving. Men’s were more sensitive and needed care. Tory’s fingers twined into River’s hair, tugging the strands. River wasn’t into hardcore kink, but he needed the pleasure-pain. Needed to know he was responsible for Tory’s enjoyment.
“Fuck…want to fuck you.”
That's pretty hot, Megan! Can't wait to read the rest.
Here's her links:
http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm
http://theauthormeganslayer.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/#!/MeganSlayer (Megan on Twitter)
http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100000938063999 (Megan on FB)
Don't forget to leave comments and enroll yourself for the prize giving!
When she's not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don't seem to mind.
When she's not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school.
She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love, suits her fancy best.
So, off you go Megan!
I’d like to thank JP for having me here today. It’s always fun to talk about books and such. But I’m supposed to start with a little bit about myself. I never thought I was that exciting, but here goes.
Who is Megan Slayer? Megan Slayer’s bio says she’s a whip-wielding writer by night and a mom by day. That’s half true. There’s a little more to Megan. I’ve got an unhealthy addiction to Queen music, the Tudors, and dirt racing. Gotta have my dirt car races. I’ve dyed my hair almost every color, but the natural ones. I have body parts pierced and not all of them are in my ears. I started writing six years ago and really got serious about it three years ago. I spend way too much time at my laptop and more than enough time on itunes when I’m not taking care of my totlet and three vampire cabana boys.
Now that you know a little bit about me, I thought I’d share a little bit about my latest work. My newest novella is titled Permanent. I got the idea for the story born out of a short story I’d written for my blog. Basically the characters, River and Tory told me they wanted their story told. At the time, it was just a sex scene. Once I let them talk more, I realized just what River had been through. It wasn’t just a simple sex scene. Tory is pretty much a –what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy. The thing they had in common was their affection and friendship. But for their story to make sense, Tory has to learn the dirty, ugly past River carries around. Writing Permanent was both emotional for me, and sometimes really hard. Emotional because I had to go down the same roads River traveled and hard because River is a complex guy.
Speaking of complex, like writing River, writing itself is complex and rewarding. I love writing...in some ways it’s an easy question and in some ways it’s really hard. Easy because I have so many characters all talking at one time, I have to write their stories. Hard because while I love listening to them, there are times when I can’t sit down to write. I love when the characters throw a total curveball at me...just not when I’m in the middle of my totlet’s school program. But really, even then, if I scribble the idea down on a paper or napkin and make sure to get it into paper later it’s all good. I love learning about the different characters and finding out just what made them who they are.
But for every fun and exciting part of writing, there are a few things that aren’t so hot. I’ve said it before, I love writing. What I’m not so keen on? Reviews. I love hearing what readers say about my work. Its the best to get fan mail. I even like getting reviews that aren’t so hot. I use them as learning tools. But what’s hard is the reviews that simply say something like ‘this is garbage’. Maybe it shouldn’t, but those hurt. Another thing that’s hard is editing. Getting the story out is fun. Going over it to make sure it’s the best it can be, that’s great. The edits, nitpicking through the manuscript is what can be tedious. Making sure there aren’t any typos or missing words. I know it’s necessary, but sometimes, it’s evil. Thank goodness I’ve got great editors.
You might be wondering, now that you’ve read my gripes about writing, what I’m working on now. Funny you should ask. I’m working on the fourth of my Glow band books for Changeling Press. The series follows the members of the punk band, Glow. The final book has no elementals in it. The other members of the band are either elementals or involved with an elemental. Writing Hiram and Slash’s story is going well. They both love to talk and are eager to get their story going.
I’ve also started a story about a vampire who doesn’t want to be one any longer. The shine has dulled on being a creature of the night. The one small issue is when one becomes a vampire, one cannot go back. So far, Julian isn’t buying that logic.
Now writing vampires and punk rockers doesn’t happen in a vacuum. Nope. I love to read and be inspired by other authors. I love to see what others are doing and how I can turn that on it’s ear. Inspiration comes from everywhere, but the authors who have inspired me? I love Kresley Cole’s vampire and supers. Those guys rock. Another who has inspired me is KA Mitchell. She manages to take characters that are more or less very ordinary and make them memorable. It’s like reading about friends. I’d like to say I want to grow up and write like Mitchell. Really, I’d like to come into my own and have readers like what I’ve written on it’s own merits. I love to read just about anyone in the MM genre and within the erotic romance genre. Like my characters, I like the heat along with the story.
Keep in mind, the writing and the reading doesn’t happen all the time. As much as I’d like to spend my waking hours either holed up with a good book, or at my laptop writing a book, I have other time-fillers. I have an EDJ as well as a totlet, so there’s not much time for free time. Grin. But when I have a spare moment, I like to draw. I’ve always been good at art and I like it. I don’t personally race cars, but I love to watch the races on television and in person. There’s something exciting about watching cars, and especially trucks, zip around a race track. The edge of danger and control is really cool. Maybe I’ve got a daredevil streak after all.
Speaking of daredevils, seeing those drivers in action makes my heart race. If I had my druthers, I’d spend my vacation time at the race tracks. I got to go down to Charlotte to the dirt track over my birthday. Yes, its dirty. Yes, its VERY noisy. But holy cow, the combination of fast cars, sexy drivers and those suits...gets me every time. Happy shivers.
Do you want to know more about my latest work, Permanent? Here’s the blurb and a saucy excerpt!
Sometimes love just ain’t enough...
River Cortland trusted the person he loved. His faith couldn’t protect him from the bitter sting of a cold-hearted Domme. If he’s going to learn to trust again, he’s got to deal with his past. His roommate and best friend, Tory, has seen the physical damage and hasn’t walked away. Can he deal with the emotional scars as well?
Tory McClellan wanted the carefree life...until one night with River changed everything. There’s more to the shy art teacher and Tory wants to know everything-how he tastes, the scent of his skin, the feel of his body as they make love. What terror lies behind River’s brown eyes? Better yet, how can Tory make the sadness go away and be in River’s life, permanently?
Here’s a white hot excerpt, because I can.
“You suck at subtlety. I know you look when you think I don’t see and I remember the way your body reacted when I held you. I liked it.” He closed the gap between them until only a breath kept them apart. “I’m not innocent and I have done some experimenting.” He inched closer, his arm and knee bumping River’s. “But I’ve waited too long for you to make a move.”
Not innocent? Experimenting? Make a move? If River didn’t know him better, he’d think Tory was attracted to him. The guys who tried to pick River up weren’t nearly as handsome as Tory. Most of the women hardly held a candle to Tory’s natural charisma.
“River?”
River opened his mouth to reply, to tell Tory he had no idea what he wanted him to say. This will change our friendship? Duh. Being with me will seriously screw up your reputation at the station? Without a doubt. I’m head over heels in lust with you? Oh hell.
Instead of answering, River fused his lips to Tory’s. The guttural moan erupting from Tory’s throat spurred River on. He fisted the sleeve of Tory’s T-shirt in his hand. Holy fuck.
The more River tasted Tory, the more he wanted from him. River cupped Tory’s jaw, the rough stubble prickling his palm.
Tory broke the kiss long enough to click off the television. His eyelids drooped. “Take off my shirt.”
Holy shit.
River didn’t think. He acted. He’d guessed right about Tory—the guy really did have a deep-down need to dominate. Now was the time to take his chance and live out his fantasy with Tory. River yanked the hem of Tory’s shirt up over his head and tossed the discarded clothing into the hallway. His nipples beaded. Cold air? Or arousal? River wasn’t sure.
“Taste me.”
Yes, sir. River feathered kisses over Tory’s jaw, rubbing his hands against Tory’s chest. He couldn’t get close enough to him. With a gentle, but firm nudge, Tory directed River to his pecs. River loved the firm texture of male nipples. Women’s were soft and forgiving. Men’s were more sensitive and needed care. Tory’s fingers twined into River’s hair, tugging the strands. River wasn’t into hardcore kink, but he needed the pleasure-pain. Needed to know he was responsible for Tory’s enjoyment.
“Fuck…want to fuck you.”
That's pretty hot, Megan! Can't wait to read the rest.
Here's her links:
http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm
http://theauthormeganslayer.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/#!/MeganSlayer (Megan on Twitter)
http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100000938063999 (Megan on FB)
Don't forget to leave comments and enroll yourself for the prize giving!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
New Release - He Ain't Heavy
Brad and Duncan McKinley, brothers, best friends and business partners think that the most difficult part of the days ahead will be the aftermath of their coming out to their parents---but secrets their parents had been keeping from them all their lives come to light in a brutal fashion.
The murder of their parents exposes a brother they never knew existed, a man without a conscience who is out to destroy them, but not before he reveals to them something that will not only change their lives forever, but also make them come to terms with the feelings for one another they have suppressed for years.
The murder of their parents exposes a brother they never knew existed, a man without a conscience who is out to destroy them, but not before he reveals to them something that will not only change their lives forever, but also make them come to terms with the feelings for one another they have suppressed for years.
Christmas Wishes
Christopher Fielding has no choice but to spend Christmas with his family in York, away from William Macpherson, the biology professor with whom he has fallen in love. Finding his sister Nan in some distress over her pregnancy, Christopher makes a wish that all will be well with her and the baby, and another that William, traveling by train to his family in Scotland will be safe from the blizzard raging over the countryside.
As Christmas Eve approaches, William's train is stranded in snow drifts and Nan's baby is about to arrive prematurely. Cut off by the weather from a doctor's help, the family is in despair, and Christopher feels that his wishes may not be enough. Perhaps what they now need is nothing short of a miracle.
As Christmas Eve approaches, William's train is stranded in snow drifts and Nan's baby is about to arrive prematurely. Cut off by the weather from a doctor's help, the family is in despair, and Christopher feels that his wishes may not be enough. Perhaps what they now need is nothing short of a miracle.
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