Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Editor's Pick: We Wander Far from Home by Lilith Duvalier


EDITOR'S PICK


A crack shot best gal, a former criminal lover, a sudden ejection from everything he's ever known, and the faintest taste of freedom. That's what drives Will Kearny out of the comfort of a normal life and out into the Nebraska wilderness. Soon the sweet, quiet cattle rancher from Minnesota is robbing stagecoaches, knocking over banks, and running off into the mountains to celebrate in Henry Fitzpatrick's arms. But winter's coming on, the stagecoach routes are drying up, and the law is onto them. Life on the edge is the only way Will and Henry can be together, but life on the edge is short. Can forbidden love survive in a harsh world?
Be Warned: m/m sex
epeditorsesal1s.png
Excerpt: 
He shifted closer to Henry’s body under the covers and realized that they were both naked. Had he really been so exhausted last night that he didn’t remember undressing? Or possibly being undressed? He set a hand to Henry’s chest, tracing a line down to Henry’s flat, red nipple. The contrasts of Henry were astonishing. The hills and valleys of his chest and shoulders, the gentle touches of his rough hands. Will ran his hands down Henry’s broad shoulders and slipped his fingers into those calloused palms.

And this man was a criminal.

And between him and Annie, they had made Will one too.

Memories sparked from last night. Henry’s hand wrapped around Will’s, tugging him patiently into this room. Henry’s stubbled chin pressed to his face in an affectionate good night kiss that Will had barely been conscious enough to return.

So. Sweet. Affectionate. Beautiful. His.

But a criminal.

Well, Will supposed, you couldn’t have everything. He pressed his body against Henry’s, closing the small, cautious gap between them, and kissed the other man. He slid his hands out of Henry’s and wrapped his arms around Henry’s back, running his fingers over the ridges of muscle there.

Henry began to kiss him back slowly, as though not quite woken from a dream, before his loose grip tightened and his hands began to wander up Will’s body.

“Morning,” Henry murmured.

“Afternoon, actually, I think,” Will replied.

“Mhm,” Henry responded disinterestedly as he resumed the kiss, sliding his tongue past Will’s lips like walking through an open door. He took control of the kiss. Eased his body on top of Will’s. Will sighed happily as he sunk down into the feather mattress under Henry’s solid weight. Despite Annie’s assurances that there were other men like him, Will hadn’t really let himself believe it until the night Henry kissed him in the barn, only weeks ago.

Henry, here, warm and willing, was more of a salve than Will would have imagined. Henry’s touch made the sting of moving away from his family lessen. It muted the horror of the smell of the barn and all its inhabitants burning. And it almost made the crime they’d committed feel a little like an adventure. The sexy little show Henry put on for the audience. The charming move of leaving the women their jewelry.

The way that Henry’s skin moved over Will’s, the heavy scent of him dominating Will’s senses, made it easier for Will to concentrate on his rewards rather than his sins.

Will rolled his hips up against Henry’s, sighing at the feeling of Henry’s firming cock against his groin. A small noise of disappointment escaped him as Henry broke the kiss.

“Hen—”

“Shhh,” Henry said. He settled himself back on his haunches, straddling Will’s legs. His half-hard cock hung between his thighs. The tip rested where the hard ridge of Will’s hipbone sunk into the crease between hip and thigh.

Henry set his broad palms over Will’s chest and stomach and began tracing nonsense shapes across Will’s chest. He set his thumbs to the swells of muscle in Will’s stomach and chest, then flattened his hands over Will’s body and swept back down, smiling gently.

Will reached up to take Henry’s arm in his hand.

Henry pulled away, caught Will’s hand and pushed it back down to the mattress. “Shhhh…lie back.”

Will watched as Henry’s hands ran over his chest. Down his stomach, palms flat and warm. He traced his fingers down into the grooves between Will’s hips and his groin, where the skin was soft and sensitive, unaccustomed to being touched.

Will pushed his hips up against Henry’s hands, asking for more. He’d been ready back in the cabin a few nights ago, he didn’t need all this careful touching.

Henry’s slid back up his chest, rubbing and pinching his nipples.

Will felt his breathing getting heavier. His hips worked up against empty air. He looked down between Henry’s legs and swallowed. Henry’s cock was standing between his legs now, thick and flush and full.

And out of reach.

“Look at you,” Henry murmured, rolling the bud of Will’s nipple between his thumb and forefinger, every touch making the nerves more sensitive.

The sluggish warmth in Will’s belly started to coil, not urgent yet, but threatening to become so. “Henry, please.”

Henry grinned, and patted Will’s chest as though he was going to stop teasing. Then he dropped his mouth down to Will’s chest and took a reddened nipple into his mouth.

The coil of warmth in Will’s stomach tightened suddenly, the steady hum of arousal in his body spiked. He dug his fingers into Henry’s shoulders and bucked his hips up against nothing when the grip made Henry suck harder.

Will reached for his cock while Henry rolled the bud between his teeth and flicked his tongue over it. Henry caught Will’s hand and brought it back up to his shoulders.

“Henry, I don’t wanna wait no more,” Will moaned as Henry let his nipple go with a loud, wet “pop.”

“Yeah,” Henry said. His voice was heavy and rough and his eyes were dark with lust. His gaze ran over Will’s body like another caress and Will shivered. “I won’t make you.”

Will’s breath caught.

Henry moved off his thighs, arranging himself so that he was kneeling between Will’s legs. He slipped his hands underneath Will’s knees, calloused hands tickling at the sensitive skin underneath the joint. Will felt too exposed as Henry lifted his feet up off the mattress and spread his legs wider, so wide that his toes poked over either side of the mattress.

Henry arched down, kissing Will softly. Will set his hands back to Henry’s shoulders, letting himself stay open under Henry’s increasingly insistent tongue, kissing back with everything he could muster while Henry turned the kiss dirty and breathtaking. He finally settled his body down against Will’s, pressing his rock hard cock into Will’s body, rubbing against him until Will moaned against his lips.

“No more interruptions. Door’s locked. Hell, I even jammed a chair under the handle.” He dropped his face to Will’s neck, sucking at a tendon, then worrying his teeth against it. “Even if the goddamn law comes knocking, even if they break down the door, I’m gonna make you come before they cart us away.”

Monday, August 11, 2014

Love in Dark Settings Press: August 2014 e-books and free fiction

Suspenseful gay stories and male romantic friendship fiction. All e-books are DRM-free; new e-books and reissues are multiformat.
 

NEW E-BOOK: Trial (Life Prison: Hell's Messenger #1)

Trial

"Compassion's Keeper took his hand off the dagger hilt only long enough to turn a page. '"Sentenced to sixty lashes of the leaded whip. Sentence commuted to a transfer to Compassion Life Prison."' The Keeper raised his eyebrows. 'That's the first time I've ever heard a transfer to this prison described as a commutation. We'll assume that particular phrasing was meant as a joke.'"

The prisoner has suffered endless pain and has raised a rebellion. Now he faces his greatest trial.

For fifteen years, Tyrrell has struggled against odds to better the lives of his fellow prisoners. Now he must start all over again, for he has been transferred to Compassion Prison, reputed to be the worst life prison in his nation. The first signs of trouble at his new prison are brutally armed guards, a probing physician, and a Keeper of mysterious motives. But Tyrrell knows that, when he walks into his new cell, he'll face danger beyond measure:

The prisoners of Compassion, who are waiting to test him.

This suspenseful novella (short novel) can be read on its own or as the first story in the "Hell's Messenger" volume of Life Prison. Friendship, desire between men, and the costs of corruption and integrity are examined in this multicultural speculative fiction series, which is inspired by prison life at the end of the nineteenth century.

Tags: bisexual and gay characters, multicultural, prisoners, guards, wardens, spies.


Excerpt

He lay on the cold concrete in the darkness, cursing in an indiscriminate manner that embraced every guard he had possessed the misfortune to be serviced by. The chill of the ground, combined with his wetness, had set him shivering, and he could taste blood in his mouth where his teeth had caught his cheek as he fell. In an automatic manner, he checked his teeth. They were all there, except for the four he had lost over the years, courtesy of past guards.

He allowed Bailey to pull him onto his feet, and as he did so, he realized that laughter echoed in the dark room. The laughter did not come from either of his guards.

He raised his head. He was in a large, high-ceilinged room. That much he could tell from the echoes and from the fact that he could not see the ceiling. Most of the room was lightless. But in the left-hand corner ahead of him, on a balcony about where he would expect a ceiling to be, sat two men lit by wall-lamps. Both wore dark blue uniforms, and both had their boots resting in a leisurely manner on the low, barred railing of the balcony. Both had rifles in their laps, and both rifles were pointed straight at Tyrrell.

Tyrrell felt his empty stomach lurch. One of the men who had been laughing called across the room, "Mercy's man! What gift do you bring us today?"

"Compassion's man!" Oslo called back in a casual manner that suggested he was acquainted with the other guard. "I have a prisoner transfer for you. Fresh meat for the banquet."

The rifle-bearing guards seemed to appreciate this small witticism more than Tyrrell thought it merited; they hooted with laughter. "Tenderizing the meat, are you?" asked the second guard, who held a cigarette between his lips.

"Oh, believe me," said Oslo, grinning, "I've poked the meat quite thoroughly to make sure it's well done."

Tyrrell rolled his eyes. Even Bailey winced at Oslo's poor wit.

The first guard lifted his rifle and set it aside. "Ah, what a pity we will not be able to feast at length on him at our banquet. But we are somewhat gentler on our prisoners than you are at Mercy Prison. How many fuckings a year do you service each of your prisoners with? One hundred? Two hundred?"

"We're working on raising the number." Oslo's voice held nothing but amusement.

"Whereas we are unlikely to see your prisoner more than once or twice this year . . . if that much." The first guard pulled his boots off the railing and leaned over the railing, remaining in his chair as he scrutinized the scene before him. The wavering light of the gas-lamps on the balcony wall moved shadows across his face, which was thoughtful. "Hard to say from this distance," concluded the guard finally. "Why the transfer?"

"Your Keeper knows. You can probably guess. His name's Tyrrell."

The second guard, who had removed his cigarette from his lips in order to tap it over a spittoon nearby, went suddenly still. The first guard raised an appreciative eyebrow. "Oh-ho!" he said softly. "So that's the way of it. I was wondering how long it would be before Mercy's Keeper lost patience with those riot-rousers he's been housing. What happened to the others?"

Oslo shrugged. "We'll know when we get back. The first decision our Keeper made was to arrange this transfer. Your Keeper seemed willing to take him in."

The first guard shrugged as he leaned back in his chair. "Our Keeper," he said, "has all sorts of grandiose plans for this prison, though whether any of them will come to fruit is another matter. I suppose that servicing riot-rousers is part of his plan. Will you break your fast with us? Starke likes to arrive early for his gunner duty . . ." He gestured toward the second guard. "But I prefer to extend my dawn break as long as possible. You're welcome to join me in the guards' dining hall. The night watch will be coming off-duty soon, and I can introduce you."

"Yes," muttered Bailey through gritted teeth. "Warmth. Yes."

Oslo ignored him. "Good food wouldn't go amiss," he said, smiling. "And I hear that Compassion Life Prison is famed for that."

More hoots of appreciative laughter erupted from the first guard, though the second was busy drawing a long lungful of smoke from his cigarette and scrutinizing Tyrrell with an expression he could not read.

"We promise to feed you only the best," replied the first guard, getting to his feet and reaching toward a hand-sized lever set within a small, red hatch on the wall. "Come to the dining hall when you've delivered your charge. You remember the way, I'm sure."

"I hope I do," said Oslo, beginning to tug Tyrrell forward into the darkness, "but everything may be changed here, from what I hear. Your Keeper seems to want to turn things upside down."

"We'll see," said the second guard as his eyes followed Tyrrell's progress. His voice was barely audible, and his expression was hidden behind a puff of smoke. "We'll see. . . ."
 

Available as a multiformat e-book (epub, html, mobi/Kindle, pdf, doc): Trial.


FREE FICTION

Click on the covers for more information. The online editions are free; the newly-reissued multiformat e-book editions are as priced.

Life PrisonMen and Lads

Online fiction:

Coded Messages (Life Prison). One of them rapes prisoners. The other wants to help prisoners. So why are they talking to each other? (Includes major spoilers for the novella Life Prison.)
 

RECENT CATEGORY BESTSELLERS

Click on the covers for more information. "The Breaking," "Love and Betrayal," and "Re-creation" are also newly reissued in multiformat.

The BreakingLove and BetrayalFirst TimeIn TrainingThe Eternal DungeonDebt PriceRe-creation
 

REISSUED IN MULTIFORMAT

Click on the cover for more information.

Noble
 

REVIEWS

"This series takes very complicated ideas and executes them masterfully.. . . I've never seen anyone handle the subject matter better." —Megan Derr's Top Ten MM Fantasy and MM Sci-Fi book lists (Scorching Book Reviews) on The Eternal Dungeon.

"A powerful tale of two men who accommodate the needs of each other – and learn to find happiness in a hopeless situation." —Amazon (Lee Phillips) on Pleasure (Slaves of the Northern Corporate Dominion).
 

DARKFICS

My new series in the Turn-of-the-Century Toughs cycle is Darkfics, which is simply a collection point for all the side stories in the five Toughs series: The Eternal Dungeon, Life Prison, Michael's House, Commando, and Waterman. Many of the stories are free. The stories are listed in chronological order of the date when they were set, with a timeline interspersed, so even readers who have already read all of the side stories may find this page of interest.

If you look carefully at that page, you'll notice that I've also listed stories and art which are created by other authors and artists but are set in the Toughs universe. This is one of my periodic encouragements to folks to please feel free to borrow my characters. My characters like to get out of my yard now and then.
 

SUBTEXT

I've updated at Subtext the list of writings by other authors that inspired my own work. Every time I think that list is finished, I reread another book and discover where my Muse got a story idea from. This time I reread the final chapters of Mary Stewart's heterosexual romantic suspense novel Nine Coaches Waiting ("I saw the look that came down over his face, bleak bitter pride shutting down over anger, and I knew that I had turned my world back to cinders, sunk my lovely ship with my own stupid, wicked hands . . ."), only to realize that I was rereading the final chapter of Unmarked.
 

TAGS

My tags page is one of the most-visited pages at my website, so I've added more tags in hopes of making it easier for visitors to find the particular stories they're looking for. Asexual characters! Senior-aged characters! Afterlife! Rebels! BDSM! Age of Sail! Romantic friendship fiction! They're all here, along with many more tags.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Wheels of Fortune

With his sights set on a bright red sports coupe, Jack pulls into Happy Jack's Used Car Lot hoping to get a good trade-in for his old clunker, Junior, and encounters a very persuasive salesman who convinces him to buy a van. Unsure of his decision at first, Jack quickly finds that the van is much more than transportation. For him and his friends, the less than impressive looking vehicle becomes their wheels of fortune!

Excerpt:
Buying a van was the last thing on Jack's mind when he pulled into Happy Jack's Used Car Lot one hot August Saturday afternoon. He had planned and saved all summer to get a little sport coupe that would get him back and forth to campus. Junior, as he called his old clunker, just wouldn't handle another year of the wear and tear of the daily trek. It barely got him around town as he delivered pizza for Angelo's Pizza every night. Time had taken its toll on the old vehicle and it was time to move on.

At least twice a week Jack had driven past the lot and yesterday he spied a shiny red Chevy for $3000.00. He had risen early, showered, shaved, and pulled out a pair of good dress slacks and one of his few ironed shirts. "Dress to impress" was one of his mottos and if he were to get a good deal, he knew he had to impress the salesman.

He turned into Happy Jack's lot and parked Junior on the side of the building. He climbed out of the car, adjusted his shirtsleeves, and headed directly over to the red Chevy. He was examining the body when a very proper-looking salesman arrived.

"Hi, I'm Sam," he said, shaking Jack's hand as he handed him a business card with the name Sam Devlin on it. "Can I help you?" he asked, looking Jack directly in the eyes.

"Sure can. I'm Jack. What's your bottom price on this one?" He absently gazed back at the hazel eyes of the salesman.

"Three grand."

"No, no – your bottom price, not your asking price," Jack replied.

"Three grand."

Jack watched him slowly turn and start to walk away. "I really had my heart set on this Chevy. It looks like it would be great for getting me back and forth to classes at State," Jack said.

"State? You're going to State? I went to State six years ago."

Jack liked the enthusiasm he suddenly heard in Sam's voice. His hopes rose. Maybe there was still hope of a deal on the Chevy.

"Listen," Sam continued with a little more animation in his voice and eyes, "You really don't want a sports coupe for that commute. Trust me. You're taking the interstate back and forth and the cops love to nail guys in sports cars. Think of something a little less flashy. I have the perfect vehicle for you. It's a cream colored van. The body's great, the engine runs perfectly, and there's a lot of room in the back, if you catch my meaning."

"A van? I don't think so."

"Just take a look at it."

"I guess it won't hurt to look," Jack said. He followed Sam into the garage and he couldn't help noticing how broad the man's shoulders were and the fact that his muscles bulged under his white shirt. He thought to himself, "Wonder what he'd be like in bed." He shook his head quickly to banish the sex fantasy and get his mind back on the reality at hand.

"Hey, Joe!" Sam hollered. "The van finished yet?"

Dressed in a mechanic's blue coveralls, a man on a dolly rolled himself out from under the Bronco he was repairing and Jack's mouth dropped wide open. This guy was an Adonis, even covered in garage grease. In another quick private fantasy, Jack could see himself dropping to the greasy floor with this god of a man.

"Yeah, I just finished it. It's as good as new."

The mechanic rolled himself back under the Bronco, leaving only his legs and pelvis visible. Jack swallowed hard and hoped Sam had noticed nothing.

Jack walked over to the van and was surprised by it. He was impressed by the captain's chairs and all the options included. "Go ahead, climb in, get the feel of it!" Jack climbed in and perched himself behind the wheel. It was the first time he had ever been in a van and the feeling was strange, but he liked the sensation of being so high up. Sam walked up to the open window. "We could take it for a test drive." Sam slapped plates on the van and climbed inside.

Jack was silently amazed at the ease with which the van handled. He turned onto the interstate, added a little more gas, and marveled at the smoothness of the ride.

Sam was quick to speak up. "A nice thing about a van is all the extra leg room. A passenger can really stretch out," and he stretched his legs out longer and wider apart. "Feels good to stretch out. Never feel cramped." His hand reached over to Jack. "You feeling a bit cramped?"

"Go for it," Jack smiled warmly. "Hell of a way to make a sale, but I like the approach."

"There's a rest area a half mile up the road. Why not pull over? Then I could really show you the advantages of a van, like all the space in the back, since there's no third seat."

Jack flipped on the turn signal, shifted to the right-hand lane, and pulled onto the exit ramp.

“Wheels of Fortune,” a new erotic romance novel by Duncan More, is available from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, All Romance ebooks, Kobo ebooks, and the Apple iBookstores.  Also available in print from Amazon.  Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.

Friday, July 4, 2014

New Gay Teen Romance



Have you ever wanted to get noticed? Have you ever felt like no matter how hard you worked or how hard you tried, nobody in the entire world cared what you did? Well, what if someone famous—and we’re talking Oprah-famous, here—noticed you for the one thing you wish you could hide? For your one big secret…

That’s exactly what happens to 18-year-old Kenneth McIntyre when television guru Prahna Mehta hails his self-published novel as the next bestseller. Little do his new fans know Truth and Other Lies wasn’t written by Kenny at all… and it isn’t fiction. Kenny’s been keeping secrets for years. Sometimes he feels like he’s lying to everybody he loves.
When Kenny gets swept into stardom, how will he hide the secrets he’s kept for years? And, if his lies are exposed, will anyone stay by his side?
14+ for sexuality, language, adult situations, alternative MMF relationship

Excerpt:
Nobody cried more than Kenny’s mom.  Not even Kenny. 
He started to understand that saying, “he was beside himself,” because that’s exactly how he felt.  At Millie’s funeral, he kept glancing at the empty seat beside him—one of five they’d reserved in the front row for Millie’s family—because he felt like the real Kenny was sitting in the next chair, and his body was just an empty shell.
Millie was right, all those times she’d said her parents wouldn’t come to her funeral.  She’d told Kenny and his mom, “You don’t understand, guys.  I’m already dead to them.  Why would they go to my funeral when I died three years ago?  I died when I came out.”
Kenny didn’t believe that, of course.  When he and his mom made the funeral arrangements, they even asked to have some of the readings done in Chinese.  If her parents did come—and Kenny really and truly believed they would—they’d certainly appreciate the scripture in their mother tongue. They were very religious people, from what Millie said.
He stared at the grey chair beside him while the funeral people played one of Millie’s favorite songs.  Any other day, he’d have been fuming that her family hadn’t shown up.  But today?  Today he didn’t have enough energy to feel anger.  He didn’t have enough energy to feel anything, not even sadness.  It was like a total absence of emotion.  He was an empty shell.
The funeral went by in a haze.  As they drove to the cemetery, all he could think about was the look of serenity on Millie’s face as she lay in that coffin.  That gleaming white coffin, like Liberace’s piano.  She would have laughed at it.  She would have thrown her head back, cackled, and said, “You’re gonna bury me in that?”
Kenny could still hear her laughter.
When his mother pulled into the cemetery parking lot, he pressed his head against the cool glass and cried.  More than cried.  Sobbed.  He felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest.  It was an actual, physical pain, and it hurt so badly he worried that, when he opened his jacket, his crisp white shirt would be stained in blood.  He almost wished it was.  He wished his wounds could be obvious to the world.  He wanted everybody to understand.  Nobody did.
Except his mom.  She squeezed his hand so hard she jammed his knuckles together.  That was a good pain, a useful pain.  He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, but he gripped her hand, trying to show some support.  Because she was hurting too.
“Come on, buddy.”  Mom snapped a tissue from the box and blotted her face, wiped her nose.  “Let’s get out to the gravesite.”
Millie would have thought all this grief was hilarious.
Plenty of people from school had come to the service.  Far fewer had come out for the burial.  Kenny’s mom had paid for everything—the funeral, the coffin, the plot—and it didn’t come cheap.  In all, she’d spent nearly ten grand, most of it on credit.  But Millie was worth the expense.  She was the daughter Mom never had.
Kenny felt old before his time, having to deal with all this death stuff.  But there he went, thinking about himself again.  If Millie were there, she’d tell him to be happy. “Be happy you’re still alive.  Be happy the sun is shining and the birds are chirping.  Be happy spring is in the air.”
Well the sun wasn’t shining and the birds weren’t chirping, not for Kenny.  And spring?  Spring was just a pile of mud. Slick mud and stinking dog crap under a mound of melting snow.
That’s all Kenny could think of during the burial: how Millie was going underground, under all the mud and crap and snow.  She’d never feel the sunlight on her skin.  She’d never hear the birds. She’d died in the springtime of her life.

Monday, June 30, 2014

New from Xondra Day...


Lust at First Sight, 3
Stuck in a world full of cannibalistic corpses after a mysterious flu-like virus kills off the majority of the world's population, Nick Sparrow has learned to survive in a world where the dead outnumber the living.
Matchim Chase has been surviving on his own for the past couple of weeks. When he's suddenly surrounded by a horde of zombies, he's thankful to have a handsome stranger come to his rescue.
Holed up together in a motel room and subsequently in an abandoned house, the connection they form is instant. They find what they need in each other. In a world torn apart they come together sharing their pasts and hopes for the future. Living in the moment is all they have because tomorrow might never come.
Be Warned: m/m sex, gore

Excerpt:
Nick listened to the sound of water running in the other room. The door was left ajar, and that had gone unnoticed to his prying eyes. He moved to the door and stood outside with his head down. He desperately wanted to go in there, but the guy most likely wasn’t gay or even bisexual. He must have lost his mind to be even thinking about such things. The world was nearing its end, and all he had was sex on the brain. The last time he’d had sex…well it was quite some time ago before all this shit came along. Still, he craved to be touched, and to have someone touch him. “Hey, I need to take a leak,” he said. He did need to go, that wasn’t a lie, but he could have easily waited until Matchim was done in there.
“Sure, come on in. I’m almost finished.”
Nick stepped into the steamy bathroom and through the clear shower curtain he spied the perfect male form. He stopped for a moment and forgot what he was actually supposed to do, and when Matchim pulled the curtain to one side, he turned away quickly. “Sorry,” he muttered, lifting the toilet’s lid and feeling more than a little embarrassed.
“Sorry for what, looking?” Matchim raised one brow, and flashed him an amused grin.
“I wasn’t,” he replied, but the way his jeans bulged in the crotch told on him. So much for maintaining control. “It’s been a while since I’ve been around anyone—living, that is.”
Matchim turned off the water as he stepped out of the shower. “I understand how you feel. I admit that my heart leapt just a little when I heard your voice call out to me. I was starting to think that I was the only one left alive out there among the dead.” He wrapped a towel around his waist, and dried his hair with another. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, motioning to the toilet. “I can’t pee with anyone in the room.”
“Pee shy,” Nick said.
“What was that?” Matchim asked.
“That’s one term for it.” He smiled.
“Ah, got it. I’ll be in the other room.”
****
Outside, the noise coming from the dead had lessened, and while it was obvious some of them still lingered outside, Nick had been right. Most of them had moved on.
Matchim dug through his backpack for his one other change of clothes. It wasn’t exactly clean, but it was far better than what he had taken off and tossed on the bathroom floor. It was a glorious feeling to feel free of dirt and grime again.
Nick, like everyone, must have had a story. Matchim was curious to know more about the man and what had led him to this place. He was extremely easy on the eyes, and in a way Nick reminded Matchim of Brian. It was the way he carried himself mostly, along with the soft way he spoke.

Friday, June 27, 2014

Accidental President



When President Alvarez dies unexpectedly, Enry Pruitt is forced into the foreground where he fears his long held secret may be exposed.  The new president is gay, and the object of his affection is an officer in the armed forces of which he is commander-in-chief.  Navigating his way through the rough seas of a country in crisis, the inexperienced young president must deal not only with his desires, but with a trail of horrendous atrocities from an unknown assailant as well.  When an old friend tries to locate him, Enry fears that a lost weekend in Singapore years ago may threaten his career and so much more.

Excerpt:
Greg Downs crashed into the Newark City diner and crumbled his large frame into a booth.  The world was spinning around him with adrenalin pumping out of proportion.  He managed to order a cup of coffee from the waitress who wondered if he was on an acid trip.  His breathing was labored and he wasn’t sure if he was in the grip of a panic attack.  Newark was used to street people living on the edge of sanity.  They were merely ignored, and for this moment in time, Greg was grateful that he was blending in.  Waves of nausea held him hostage, and he struggled to maintain some kind of poise in the tiny little world of his booth.  The mug of coffee arrived and he couldn’t keep his trembling hands around it long enough to lift it to his lips.  Thankfully, the waitress had thought to bring him some ice water, and he put his head down to the glass to sip on the liquid coolness.  He was hyperventilating and the diner was growing dimmer and dimmer in his vision.  Everything was a blur when he finally passed out in his booth, overcome by excitement and the thrill of the most dangerous escapade of his life.  He had just blown up the junior U.S. senator from New Jersey.

*****

“My wife and I met when I was in flight school as a dashing young officer and she was a senior in college.  We met in a bar of all places and began dating almost immediately.  One of the things I loved about her was that she had a streak of nymphomania running through her.  I found her terribly exciting and open to almost anything sexually.  A few years into the marriage she confessed that she had no desire to have children, which was contrary to everything we had talked about while we were courting.  Then she said she wasn’t satisfied in bed and wanted to experiment with another man in our bed, the three of us.  I foolishly agreed to it, and one thing led to another, but I discovered I was fonder of having sex with a man than with my wife.”

Enry sat there enthralled and fascinated, and moved.  Michael was opening up his deepest secret and shame, and it drew the president more closely into the mystery of General Michael Shimibura.

“One thing evolved into another, and all I wanted sexually was the pleasure and strength of another man.  Valerie’s presence began to turn me off completely.  I was away a lot on tours of duty, and after ten years of marriage, we were merely orbiting each other, and I officially moved out.  I send her an allowance every month and we agree to live apart until I retire.  Mr. President, tell me about President Alvarez.”

The question caught Enry off his usual poise, and Michael could tell that the president’s emotions were rising to the fore.  Enry stood up, walked behind the sofa, and put his hands down on the back as he faced Michael to answer the question.  Michael watched Enry gather the soul within him to answer a question he had not had the time to deal with in the days since the death of Diego Alvarez.

“Diego, sweet Diego.  I can’t imagine a better president.  He was genuinely gracious, genuinely kind, and genuinely intelligent.  He was a peacemaker.  He could bring in members of congress who hated him and they would leave offering to polish his winged-tip shoes.  And he was personally gracious towards me. 

“Diego was a damned good friend, and I wish he were still president.”  He was embarrassed by his emotion but couldn’t contain it.  For the first time, he had unearthed his sentiment towards his fallen friend and mentor, and felt exposed by the display of his emotion.

Michael rose from his seat and went to his president.  “Mr. President, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal, and you need to get all of this out of you.  From the beginning, you have handled this with great purpose, and I was genuinely impressed at your swearing-in ceremony, when you held the head of the chief justice to your chest and comforted him. You are a man of great ability to love.”

Enry could feel Michael’s strong hand massaging his shoulder in comfort.

“Mr. President, Enry, in case you haven’t heard it from anyone lately, you’re a wonderful man and a beautiful human being.  The most exciting thing I’ve ever known in life has been the past few weeks with you.”

Enry’s ears melted in the calming voice of Michael Shimibura, and after a shared three bottles of wine, he stepped into the abyss.  As he looked into Enry’s eyes, his hands moved to unwrap the presidential belt buckle.

“Enry, don’t say a word.  I’ll say it for both of us.”

“Accidental President,” political thriller/romantic suspense by Dominic Lacerva, is available from Apple, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand, All Romance ebooks, Kobo, and Coffeetime Romance.  Also available in print from Amazon.  Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

New Release: Sugar Rush by Leigh Ellwood

At long last, SUGAR RUSH is now available! I'm doing a gift card giveaway to celebrate. Enter below!

Buy Now! Kindle ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Ellora’s Cave

Baker Neve Rush is surprised to receive social media attention, both the good and bad varieties, after agreeing to bake a wedding cake for a lesbian couple. She cares about people’s tastes in pastries, not sexual partners. The newfound fame has gained her new customers—as well as one resurfaced ex. Gianna stirs up memories Neve would rather forget, and an impromptu flirtation with a client might just do the trick.

Judy Goldsmith finds Neve’s open-mindedness refreshing and attractive, and isn’t above a little scheming to get to know her better. As Neve and Judy satisfy each other’s sweet tooth in the most pleasurable ways possible, feelings begin to blossom. But their deepening attraction may not survive a little white lie…and an even bigger, darker secret.

A Romantica® GLBT erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Friday, June 20, 2014

Thursday at Ten


At Turner’s, gossip and beverages are as important as sharp scissors, but clients know they are safe from having anything repeated. Leaking any privacy is as fireable an offense as putting a side pony on the wrong head. Despite the fact that gossip stopped with Aaron Turner, the owner of the high end salon, the prominent hair stylist wouldn’t miss being out on the floor listening to the stories traded like pirate currency. The murder of a senator is the talk of the day, and the young man accused had been with Aaron only two weeks earlier. He had been a hot fling, but a murderer – no way. When a few more murders occur, including the stylist’s best friend, Trixie aka Robert Landers, who in full makeup was a star, a sexy new detective makes an unannounced visit to Turner’s.


Excerpt:
Stretching his arms, he yawned, twisting his lithe body. The lakeside house had the feel of old money, and the client had been easy, but this patron was the exception. Clean and polite, he took his time and never asked for anything kinky. It was rare for the young man to go to a trick’s home, preferring ‘in calls’ at his tiny apartment. In this case, the money was always worth the time. This trick would arrange a meeting downtown and then bring him back to the large house. Glancing around the room, the young man continued to note how expensive everything looked. The place was obviously taken care of by a staff, or a trophy wife. Many of his best clients were married men of means who would always live buried deep inside the closet.

A trim middle aged man walked in from the master bathroom wearing a robe. Bringing a fold of bills from the pocket, he handed them down to the younger man who was still in bed. Smiling from his nest in the pillows, the ‘for hire’ leaned up to accept the money. The still grinning client was proof that he had done his job well.

Two weeks earlier the prominent hair stylist and owner of Turner’s salon had a long late night make-out session with the same young hustler. “Wow, that kiss is like your superpower,” Aaron told the young man with a grin after the first hot meeting of their lips. “I’m all weak in the knees!” Cody had just laughed as they went at it again on a dark banquet on the bar’s second level.

Aaron knew how Cody made his living. Everyone knew. The stylist was not a client, but he liked his guys the way he liked his salad greens – a little wild. The short, hot fling had not come to equal love for either of them, but Aaron had liked Cody a lot. Hearing that the young hustler had been booked on murder charges for killing a senator was hard to believe. Powerful men often held powerful secrets, but even if the senator had hired Cody, Aaron could not imagine the young man killing anyone.

*****
The entire salon went quiet as two handsome officers entered and were led to the back where the senator’s former wife (Babs) sat. Aaron, scissors in hand, was behind her. Missy and Franny, two well known socialites who had watched the handsome young officers enter the salon along with everyone else, cut looks at each other while brushing away salon attendants who were trying in vain to get the women to return to their stylist’s stations. It would have taken an avalanche bomb squad to unseat the pair from their front row perch to the drama playing out in Turner’s that rainy afternoon.

“How did you know I was here?” Babs flirted with Detective Matt Stone as she perched herself on the edge of the desk, folding a long, toned leg behind the other one. Aaron was thankful that she didn’t reach up and unclasp the top button of her blouse as she ate the hot blond Officer Stone with her eyes as if he were made of sugar and whipped cream.

“We appreciate the use of your office, Mr. Turner. Could we have a few moments alone with Mrs. Hickman?” Matt asked. Despite the age difference, the young officer appreciated the well preserved cougar in front of him.

“Of course,” said Aaron, who had nearly been panting with lust at the sight of the other detective, sexy Eli Young. The uniform on the hot officer was icing on the cake, as far as Aaron was concerned.

“Do you know Cody Patterson?” the detective asked.

“Yes. Not well, but I know him.”

Eli traded a knowing glance with his partner, and then turning to Aaron he said, “Perhaps we should speak somewhere else, Mr. Turner.”

“Let’s go to the storage room,” Aaron answered as if he had been planning to couple up with the man he just met. In his mind he had already turned down the lights, folded back the sheets, and shot the cork off of a bottle of Veuve Clicquot 1996. Aaron led Eli to the small storage room, stepping aside to allow the officer entry. The stylist had to physically restrain himself from reaching over and stroking the smooth dark skin of Eli’s cheek as the officer began to question him.

“Thursday at Ten,” by James Brock, is a murder mystery packed with zany hair stylists, over-the-top drag queens, shallow socialites, sexy detectives, too many suspects to mention, and is available from Apple, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand, Kobo, All Romance ebooks, and Coffeetime Romance. Available in print from Amazon.



Friday, June 13, 2014

Erotic Ménage Romances Reference List now has Helgaleena!

Erotic Ménage Romances Reference List  



Just added, The Incredible Heidi Wasabi , my paranormal MMF.  http://www.adultebookshop.com/The-Incredible-Heidi-Wasabi-p-2601.html



http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/134931 



Shakti or succubus? Faithful spouse or figment of the imagination?
Whatever she is, Rufus and Steen would not have made a grand success in
their chosen profession, as the stars of the heavy metal band Virgen
Steel, without Heidi. And they probably never would have gotten married -
to each other, anyway. This is her incredible story. 

A Friendly Neighbor by KC Kendricks

New release, June 13, 2014

A FRIENDLY NEIGHBOR
Gay romance available now at Ellora’s Cave
Purchase link: http://www.ellorascave.com/a-friendly-neighbor.html


Kyle isn’t typically a voyeur but when his sexy neighbor forgets to close his curtains, he finds it difficult to look away. And why should he? It’s just a little harmless fun and maybe an erotic bit of self-pleasure to balance out the long hours he’s put in on the job lately. Next time he’ll exercise some self-control and turn away from the too-hot for words spectacle, but just this once he’s determined to let himself enjoy the show.

Jackson might have been offended by his neighbor’s voyeuristic evening had Jackson not taken advantage of the delicious show he unwittingly inspired. Unwilling to let the opportunity to turn a smoldering fantasy into a scorching hot sex life, Jackson invites Kyle over for a drink and is pleasantly surprised to find Kyle is smart, sexy and someone Jackson wants to get to know—in bed and out.


EXCERPT:

Somewhere on earth there had to be a quiet place to sleep but unfortunately it wasn’t located anywhere near Kyle Remington’s apartment. He was stuck in quaint little Key’s Crossing, population ten thousand, in what was marketed as an upscale complex with a mere ninety-nine neighbors.

He rolled onto his belly and pulled a pillow over his head. The low, mournful sound invaded even his private blackness. He liked cats, really he did, but not at midnight. Never again would he rent in a complex that allowed cats, no matter how swanky the accommodations.

It was for the pure stylish luxury of the place Kyle had endured two years on a waiting list to live at the Keys Towers. A fourteen-hundred-square-foot loft-style apartment just five minutes away from a train station for only fourteen-hundred dollars a month and an option to purchase in two years was unheard of this close to New York City.

Add a newly renovated kitchen and he couldn’t turn it down even though he’d had reservations about the open floor plan. Who cared if it was actually in New Jersey? Now that he’d lived in the space, he loved it. Well, except for the noisy cat whose mournful meowing gave him weird-ass dreams about twelve kittens sitting in his bathtub singing Christmas carols and brought him out of what was once a sound sleep.

The yowling took on a desperate edge. Kyle rolled from the bed in one fluid motion and shoved the curtains aside. His heart stopped as he peered across the moonlit central courtyard. A tiger-striped cat sat on a ledge just off a fourth-story balcony. The beast turned its head and stared at him, its green eyes glowing fiercely in the moonlight.

His course was clear. He had to get to that poor creature and rescue it before it fell to its death. Kyle counted the number of windows in from the corner of the building. If the units in the east wing were on a par with the ones in the west wing, he needed to go up the “B” stairwell and knock on door number three.

His sleep-deprived brain regained clarity. Wait a minute. How’d that critter get out there in the first place? It had to have found an open a balcony door, or window, so it stood to reason it could perhaps get back inside the same way. Kyle took a closer look at the rows of windows in the opposite building and spotted sheer curtains blowing in the breeze. The cat must have exited there.

Who would be so irresponsible as to allow their pet to go out on that narrow ledge? The cat lifted a front paw, seemingly unconcerned about it precarious perch, and began to wash with a complete disregard for its position. Come tomorrow, he’d go knock on the door and explain to the owner just how bad an idea it was to allow the cat to do what cats do in an unsafe spot like the ledge.

He reached to pull his curtains closed, pausing as a movement inside the apartment across the way grabbed his attention. A light came on.

Holy shit.

Just because he’d never in his life had voyeuristic tendencies before didn’t mean he couldn’t have them now. Kyle backed into the shadows and sat on the foot of his bed to watch the young man across the courtyard disrobe.

The fellow was tall and slender, verging on too thin for Kyle’s personal preferences although, he decided, the angle and the moonlight did trick the eye. In the low lamplight it was impossible to determine if the guy’s hair was brown or dark blond as Kyle watched him skim out of his t-shirt and toss it aside. Arms over his head, he stretched for the ceiling and pushed his palms together. Even at a distance, Kyle discerned the gentle rises and dips of skin over the man’s ribs as he slowly lowered his arms and rolled his shoulders.

Kyle stared, transfixed by the smooth motions as the young man threw his head back and arched his spine. He couldn’t see if the guy had much hair on his torso, and maybe it was his own imagination that filled in dark discs where the man’s nipples should be, but in the moment he didn’t care. Kyle rubbed his chest and squeezed his own nipples. The familiar jolt of pleasure sped along nerve endings to the base of his cock.

He stopped. He wasn’t going to sit here and jerk off like some sexual deviant while that guy undressed.

Not. Gonna. Do. It.

Across the courtyard, a pair of jeans slid off slender hips and hung suspended, covering the other man’s genitals and kept the line where thigh met body hidden. Kyle drew a fingertip from his balls to his hip, caressing his own soft skin but in his imagination, he touched the mystery man. His dick swelled in a few pounding heartbeats.

Just this once. He’d jerk off watching him just once.

A FRIENDLY NEIGHBOR
Gay romance available now at Ellora’s Cave
Purchase link: http://www.ellorascave.com/a-friendly-neighbor.html

KC Kendricks
Website: http://www.kckendricks.com
Between the Keys blog: http://kckendricks.blogspot.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/kckendricks
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kckendricks