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

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

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.

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

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.

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. 

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

Gay romance available now at Ellora’s Cave
Purchase link:

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.


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.

Gay romance available now at Ellora’s Cave
Purchase link:

KC Kendricks
Between the Keys blog:

Friday, June 6, 2014

Submission Call

Join the Evernight Family!

Evernight Publishing is seeking quality gay and lesbian romance and erotic romance

Evernight Teen is seeking quality alternative fiction and young adult romance

Out Now! HEAD OVER HEELS by Remmy Duchene

Firefighter Christian Shane, badly scarred from a fire that ravished a city block, runs away from New York to Beacon Cove, hoping to hide away in his family's beach house. All he wants is to be left alone.
Case Jenkins never met a sexy, muscled stud he liked. They were always jocks and always dicks—plain and simple. He was too much of a nerd and not built like a brick house. But when he sees Christian Shane, he can't control himself. Nothing worth having ever comes easy, and Case isn't quite sure he has enough patience. But there’s a mad-man trying to burn down the world, and in the end, both men must come to terms with their feelings.
Be Warned: m/m sex

Christian’s nightmares had gotten progressively worse over the past two days. Since he could do nothing but sleep, there was no way to avoid it. Every time he drifted off, he woke up in a cold sweat. The first few times he jerked awake, he heard someone screaming. Then he realized the sound was coming from him as he clutched at his throat. The machines beeped furiously and his nurse rushed in, pleading with him to be careful.
He felt like a moron.
He’d chosen the career, and the moment the bad of it raised its ugly head, Christian felt useless and confused. When he thought deeper about it, he felt discarded and betrayed. For so long he hungered to become a firefighter and worked tirelessly toward his dream. During his fight to make his dream come true, everything else had fallen by the wayside, and somewhere over the years he’d become a sheltered, jaded ass.
Christian sacrificed everything for his dream. Then, that dream scarred him for life.
 One day faded away, followed by a few more he couldn’t keep track of. From time to time, his doctor would force him out of bed to walk around a bit with the help of a cane and a nurse. Another moment when he was lucid, his friend the doctor was standing in the room, peering pensively at his chart.
“Hey, Doc.”
“You’re a very lucky man, Christian Shane.” Dr. Clancy O’Neal didn’t look at him but scribbled away at his clipboard. “A really lucky man.”
“I don’t feel like it.” Christian’s throat was like he swallowed sandpaper—dry. He shifted on the bed, and a burning sensation shivered through him from his back. “I feel like someone doused me in hot water.”
“That’s what happens when you have half of your back covered in burns. You could have died, Christian.” Clancy looked up then to focus his piercing green eyes on Christian. “You have to always remember that. It doesn’t matter how scarred or damaged you think you are, life is way more precious than beauty—and if I swung your way, I’d definitely tap that.”
Christian laughed. “You do swing this way.”
“No, no. Not that way.” Clancy hooked the clipboard to the foot of the bed.
Christian arched a brow and tilted his head. “Em… maybe it’s the drugs, but I’m lost. What way are we talking here?”
“I meant.” Clancy laughed. “If I went for the buff, firefighter types.”
“I see.”
“Seriously, though. Just remember you could have died, but you didn’t.”
For so many years, Christian had said those same words people he pulled from fires. He would tell them to be thankful they were still alive with only a few scars, to be happy. As he lay there, hearing those words tossed back at him, he felt physically ill. “Quick! Hit me over the head with a mallet.”
“Stop being dramatic. You’ll be fine. You just have to remember you’re alive and there are people who didn’t wake up this morning.”
“Why are you saying all this?”
“Because I’m your friend and I know you. You spend hours per week making sure your body looks a certain way, and these scars are messing with that. I don’t want you to think anything changes because of them. You’re still as sexy as before… just with a few additions.”

Monday, May 26, 2014

Something About Jayden - Rawiya Amira Press

Good morning. My newest release under pseudonym under Rawiya is Something About Jayden. It’s an m/m story with a hot upstart intern and a closeted, married advertising executive. Jayden is more than just a pretty face and Isaac Bridges quickly finds out that Jayden isn’t easily swayed.

Here is the blurb and an excerpt from my new book releasing from Amira Press.

Blurb: It is better to love than inflict pain…

Isaac Bridges, married, closeted account executive for Denton & Associates is waiting to take over the company from CEO Silas Denton Senior after he forced Isaac’s father to sign the company over while on his deathbed.  Standing in the way is Silas Junior and upstart intern Jayden DeMario. Jayden’s beauty, intelligence, and commitment to excellence has wowed Isaac so much that Isaac changed his mind about the importance of vengeance for his dad into the vow to win Jayden’s heart. Will Isaac’s decision backfire, leaving him lonely and thus destroying his career?

 Married and closeted, Isaac Bridges seeks to win intern Jayden DeMario’s heart against all odds including his own selfish desire to regain his father’s company. After years of being the good son to the homophobic CEO Silas Denton Sr., Isaac wishes to place the Bridges name back in the forefront but will he throw away all his hard work for the young man he obsesses over?

Isaac grimaced when Silas finished his statement. “Right…I…” When a man approached with his secretary in tow, he stopped talking.
“Isaac? You what, man?” Silas tilted his head, asking a question.
Isaac gulped hard, glancing at the young gentleman coming into view.
Damn, who is this?
Isaac blinked, “I agree, I totally… um, Silas, you got…” Isaac nodded his head in the man’s direction. He could barely form the words looking at this pretty sight standing behind his boss.
Silas turned around. “Oh, hello, and you…are… my goodness, who are you?” He reached for the man and grasped his hands tightly.
Yeah, who the heck are you, sexy man?
“Mr. Denton, this is Jayden DeMario. He’s one of the interns from Roosevelt University.” The lady with him smiled sweetly and winked at Isaac. “Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Bridges. You both look amazing tonight.”
Isaac had to change his focus and stop staring at the hot young intern. “Well thank you. I’m really loving that dress on you, Tamela. It’s uh…” Isaac didn’t want to be disrespectful to Debra, but he had to do something not to give away his interest in Jayden.
“Oh, thanks.” Tamela gushed and kissed him on the cheek.
When Debra elbowed him, Isaac squeezed her hand and glanced in the direction of the intern who’d moved away from them.
Maybe it was for the best they did. Jayden was a beauty, tall and of Latino decent. His black ponytail reached the small of his back. Even through the suit, Isaac could tell the man took care of himself. He’d love to see more of that up close and personal. Shit.  Dark brown eyes lay behind those black frames, and his face chiseled from stone; perfect nose and narrow cheekbones, and the chin. Damn, the man was so well put together he looked like he just stepped out of a magazine or movie.
Who was this kid, and when could he start so he and Isaac could get to know one another before Silas corrupted him?
“Isaac. You okay?” Debra’s voice broke him out of his trance.
Isaac glanced down at her and pulled her hand up to his lips. “Sorry about that, honey, but I think I just found love. And I… I swear, I don’t think I’ve ever been hit like this.”
“Whoa, babes.” Debra whispered to him, looking around her while she talked. “The kid? I mean, he is pretty hot, but he’s an intern. Didn’t you just tell me about dating men half my age?”
“Yeah, I did but… I mean, look at him.” Isaac peered over at Silas, most likely wooing him with his Twitter account followers and the spiel on being his favorite boy. Isaac had to admit he’d probably be doing the same thing if he had the chance.
“Isaac, you don’t wanna date where you work. That’s dangerous, and besides, again, you told me about Darnell and…”
“And that was for you, my friend, not me.” Isaac cleared his throat, hoping to get Silas’ attention and meet the man in person. “Hey, um, Silas, you need another drink or…”
Silas looked up and laughed, taking Jayden by the hand.
Oh, hell, it might be too late to save him from Silas.
“This, my friends, is Jayden DeMario, our new intern. I think I’m going to put him under your tutelage, Isaac. You’re great at what you do, and the man seems to know a lot about our company.”
Isaac smiled, wishing he could do a silent fist pump.
Jayden’s eyes widened when Silas stopped speaking. “So… you mean I got the job? I…”
“Of course, young man. You’re…” Silas moistened his lips and gripped his palm. “You’re too smart and well qualified. I’d love to have you on my team. So… this is Isaac Bridges and his lovely wife. Isaac, Jayden DeMario. Let me inform the ladies at the front that the position’s been filled. They can turn away all other interns for the evening. We found our man!” Silas let go of Jayden’s hand and grasped his shoulder instead, shaking it. “Why don’t the two of you get acquainted?” Silas slapped Jayden’s back and walked away.
Isaac held out his hand for Jayden. Once they connected, a shot of adrenaline went from his hand straight to his cock. Damn, this was only the first meeting, and the man already had an effect on his libido. “Nice to meet you, Jayden. I’m, uh… very excited to work with you. This is my beautiful wife, Debra.”
“Hi, Jayden, lovely to meet you.”

BIO: RAWIYA is the more sensual erotica writer in the BLRawiya duo. She loves multiracial characters who overcome obstacles other than race. Sweet, sassy, and spicy would be the best way to describe her work. Happily married mother of two, loves music, computers, and travel. For more please visit the Rawiya's blog on Wordpress