Sunday, December 4, 2016

Roxy Katt Likes Finger's Breadth!

(from M.Christian's Technortica)

Check out this really touching review of my queer/horror/erotic/SF/thriller Finger's Breadth by the one and only Roxy Katt.

And don't forget that Finger's Breath is available as both an ebook as well as an audiobook!


I love noir. I love noir movies. And I was pleasantly surprised by M. Christian’s Finger’s Breadth. Not that I was surprised that it was good, having already read and positively reviewed his Bionic Lover. But I did not think it would be this good. I was surprised to see a complex noir plot so deftly handled. Finger’s Breadth has a great many characters and different story lines in it, and it is difficult to write such a novel without putting the reader off. The risk is that just as one story line gets interesting, another one is picked up and the first line is awkwardly interrupted.

Not so with this book. M. Christian takes us through a gay San Francisco some time in the not too distant future where gay men are being tricked and attacked in an unusual way I will not discuss for fear of spoilers.

The plot is tense, the characters well drawn, and the suspense is strong. The text is certainly erotic, but for me the primary interest was in trying to decipher the mystery: what was going on, and who was doing it, and why. Also, the effects on the gay community add a deeper dimension to the book not usually present in a whodunit. A terrific read.

Friday, November 25, 2016

LOST & FOUND Now Available for Pre-order at 35% off!

Coming Dec 5 (but you can pre-order yours now--at 35% off thru Monday!): LOST & FOUND, my love story about how a dog brings two men together. 

On a bright autumn day, Flynn Marlowe lost his best friend, a beagle named Barley, while out on a hike in Seattle’s Discovery Park.

On a cold winter day, Mac Bowersox found his best friend, a lost, scared, and emaciated beagle, on the streets of Seattle.

Two men. One dog. When Flynn and Mac meet by chance in a park the next summer, there’s a problem—who does Barley really belong to? Flynn wants him back, but he can see that Mac rescued him and loves him just as much as he does. Mac wants to keep the dog, and he can imagine how heartbreaking losing him would be—but that's just what Flynn experienced.

A “shared custody” compromise might be just the way to work things out. But will the arrangement be successful? Mac and Flynn are willing to try it—and along the way, they just might fall in love.

PRE-ORDER from Dreamspinner Press and save 35% through Monday, November 28!


Where There's Smoke is now available! "Smoke" is the tenth book in the Men of Marionville collection.

When I wrote A Cat Named Hercules, which featured combined stories from those special felines who shared my life, I knew I had to write a story that included a special dog. I thought that dog would be Jett, but it turned out to be both Jett and Deuce. (That's Deuce on the cover.)

I hope you'll enjoy Where There's Smoke.



Book #10 of the Men of Marionville series
Contemporary gay romance available at:

All Romance eBooks:

Leon McNamee successfully worked his life plan to a good job, his own home, and the one thing he always wanted as a boy - a dog. He hasn’t had much luck in the relationship department, but in Smoke, he has all the company he usually needs.

Jeremy Cooke’s new plan is to stay clear of entanglements and not get hurt again. He moves to Marionville to start over and decides to rescue a damaged dog. After all, he’s well acquainted with abuse.

Leon and Jere get acquainted over their shared love of dogs, but Jeremy holds close his secrets. When an argument escalates, disaster strikes. Leon has to fight to save Jere’s dog - and the man’s trust. At the end of the day, his best ally is a black Labrador Retriever named Smoke.


“Yeah, it’s like twice the size and population. I think people here are nicer, though.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I…had a bad relationship. Like, really bad. My bad judgment. I knew someone here, a relative of sorts, so I came here to… I guess start over.”

The flat tone of his voice spoke volumes. It was a hopeless defeat, a tiredness I’d never personally experienced. What tore at my heart was the total absence of any defiance.
I’d been bitter when Allan decided he didn’t like my dog enough to stay with me. Good riddance, I’d said. I’d been determined to put him behind me and move on - and I had. I sensed Jeremy had floundered on his way to ending the relationship. Maybe he still did.

Today wasn’t the day to pry further. Today was for building a friendship and finding possibilities.

I put my hand on his knee. “Are you sorry it ended?”

He stared at my hand but didn’t move away. “I’m sorry it began.”

I patted his knee. “Well, it’s Saturday. What should we do now? Take in a flick?”

“You’re nothing if not predictable, Leon. I knew you were going to suggest a movie some time before I let you drive me home.”

“Okay. No movie. You like boats?”

He leaned away and looked down his nose at me. “Seriously? You really can’t help yourself, can you? What’s wrong with sitting here and chilling out?”

“My dog is on a leash. My dog ate and will no doubt want to poop in public grass where kids play, and I won’t allow him to do his outside activities here. My dog needs to go home to his backyard, and then his crate for a nap.”

Jeremy straightened. “Good points. I guess you should take me and Mo home so you can get on with your day.”

I didn’t want to do that. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him for fear I’d never see him again. My instinct said he’d never call me, and if I called him, he might hesitate to answer. I showed my desperation.

“Do you like baseball?”

“Yeah, I do! It’s really cool Marionville is getting a double A team.” He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

I hung my head. “I don’t know a fucking thing about baseball.”

“So why the hell did you ask me if I liked it?”

“Would you like to hang out at my place and watch the game? You can teach me about it.”

He stared at me, lips slightly parted, an enigmatic expression in his eyes. “Do you like anything other besides dogs?”

“I like to ski.”

He glanced at the sky, and then looked at me. “Water or snow?”

I grinned at him. “Both.”

“Thank God. I’ve never been water skiing, but I’m pretty good on the slopes.”

“I didn’t know they had mountains in Peoria,” I quipped, still smiling.

He smirked at me. God, he was adorable when he wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes.

“When I was a mere lad, we spent every, and I mean every fucking Christmas at my grandfather’s place in Pennsylvania. I learned to ski. And you’re a smartass, Leon McNamee.”

“And you’re just too cute Jeremy Cooke.”

I didn’t actually think about it. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have done it.

I slipped my arm around his shoulders, leaned in, and kissed him.

He started and sucked in a quick breath. I’d never had anyone go so still in my arms. But he didn’t pull away. His lips trembled under mine, and yet he didn’t push us apart. I moved my lips over his in a soft caress and ended the kiss.

Book #10 of the Men of Marionville series
Contemporary gay romance available at:

All Romance eBooks:

KC Kendricks

Friday, November 18, 2016



Now available for pre-order!
Coming December 1st, 2016

Two years ago, to the night, my world changed when Lt. Salvador Delvecchio rescued me from a beat down and decided I belonged to him. A year ago, he changed my life once again when he asked me to marry him. We were soul mates, which was why I was so confused that Sal wasn't there to celebrate our anniversary.

As I sat there alone, waiting on Sal, I had to wonder if the things in life I found important, were important to Sal.

Two years ago, to the night, I found the man of my dreams and rescued him from a beat down. I grabbed onto him and refused to let go. I knew he felt the same when he agreed to marry me a year later. Lany would do everything to be with me, which was why I was so confused when he didn't come right to the hospital when he learned of my injuries.

As I sat there alone, waiting on Lany, I had to wonder if the things in life I found important, were important to Lany.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016


Click to Purchase

Tired of the cold gray skies of the island of Manhattan, Sebastian longed for the clear blue skies of summer and the gentle beating of waves against distant island shores – like a hot August weekend on Fire Island at the Pines. So, he decided to take a few months away from the hustle and bustle of the metropolis and head to Puerto Rico.


The flight wasn’t too bad once he saw the very attentive and absolutely gorgeous flight steward whose nametag said Ramón Ramirez. The uniform of dark blue Bermuda shorts, short-sleeved white oxford shirt, and dark blue bowtie revealed enough of the olive skin to make Sebastian visualize him totally naked, and he liked what he saw. Prior to take-off, Ramón was closing all the overhead storage bins and had to stand on his toes to rearrange some luggage above Sebastian’s aisle seat so the bin would lock properly. That put his crotch right in Sebastian’s face if Sebastian had been forward enough to turn his head and nuzzle. But the scent of pure manliness did tease Sebastian’s nostrils from the short distance nonetheless.

Later, taking beverage orders, he politely asked, “Would you and your family like to order something now?”

“Oh, we’re not a family. Ticketing just booked us all in the same row,” Sebastian said, with a glance at the mother and whiny child seated next to him.

“Pardon me, I should know better than to make that assumption.” He smiled the same gratuitous smile that all airline employees have when trying their best to give customers personalized service… a gentle raising of the corners of the mouth and a little flash of teeth. His were sparkling white. “What would you like?”

“You in the restroom right now alone with me,” was the thought that dashed across Sebastian’s mind. “Bourbon and water,” were the words that crossed his lips.

Sebastian silently admired the well-manicured hands of the steward. The brilliant white half-moons at the base of evenly trimmed nails contrasted with his skin tone. His arms were richly endowed with silky black hair that ended at his wrist but continued along the outside edge of his hands. Sebastian wondered if the chest was as pleasantly fuzzy, or as barren as his own chest. He had already admired the chest and nipples straining against the oxford shirt. This was stuff that fulfilled his fantasy sessions.

A New Romance novel by Duncan More - Available at Amazon, B&N, Kobo, Apple, and All Romance ebooks. Paperback available from Amazon.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Kyle and Jason: The Beginning

Click to Purchase

Jason Montgomery is a wealthy businessman with a gnawing desire for 18-year-old Kyle Brennon. Their friendship turns into a sizzling, turbulent relationship, and slowly but surely Jason prepares Kyle, through dominance and submission games, for a place in his unique world. For Kyle, it’s a sexual awakening like no other. For Jason, the slightest touch from his young prey weakens his self-control, and he has no idea how far and deep this will go.

Jason stopped him immediately by lifting his chin with one hand. He would be damned if he would let the inexperienced mouth near his crown jewels.
“As your Master, I can teach you anything,” he stated firmly.
“Will you teach me everything, Sir?” Kyle asked, “I want to learn everything.”
Jason bent down and kissed him, “You will.” It was a superior feeling to have so much power over another man. He had finally found a partner who was eager to please, and eager to satisfy him, the partner he had always longed for, and he could hardly wait to see Kyle lying submissively in front of him.
Kyle felt goose bumps creeping over his body. There it was again, the undertone that conjured up all kinds of feelings within him… the undertone of the Master. He stood with his back to him, waiting for further instructions, and would only turn around when Jason ordered him to. With a quiet moan, he stared at the ceiling, begging for more composure.
Jason could feel Kyle shiver as his fingertips touched his nude body at his neck, his shoulder, and then at the small of his back. He kissed his shoulder, took a few steps backward, and finally walked in a circle around Kyle, looking at him in detail.
“You are beautiful!” Jason told him.
Jason held him softly by his arms. “And what is expected outside closed doors?” he asked Kyle.
“Discretion and discipline, Sir!” he replied quietly.
Jason let his shirt fall to the floor, and stood for the first time bare chested in front of Kyle, who basically fought for breath at the sight. The man was athletic, and the silver chain with the ring hung around his neck. Artful tattoos wound themselves over the right side of his chest, across his stomach, until they disappeared secretly.
“What I tell you now is really important. Do you hear me?”
Kyle hung on his words.
“You always… have the right to one word.”
Kyle looked at him at a loss.
“The most important word is No. You always have the right to say No, and I will always respect it, okay?”

A hot, sizzling erotic romance - Amazon, B&N, Apple, All Romance ebooks, Kobo.

Sunday, October 30, 2016

Blazing Trails with Hirah Blaze - A Rockstar Bisexual Romance Book 1

My New Bisexual Romance Blazing Trails With Hirah Blaze is available at All Romance, Amazon, and Smashwords. This is a continuation of the Wretched Tales, but from the POV of the band's new lead guitarist. If you haven't read The Wretched, it's FREE on ARe and Smashwords.

If you want somethin’ real bad, you gotta work harder than everyone else.

My grandma was right about that. I did want to be the best damn guitarist. Not the best female guitarist or the best black female guitarist. The best fucking guitarist on the planet. Although Sarge and Diabolical Plan had given me the initial opportunity to show off my chops, I couldn’t be what I wanted to be with my ex-boyfriend steering the ship. I had to be the captain of my destiny. I had to be the one taking the lead.

Five months into it and I’m still pinching myself over this. Me, the little black goth girl from Milwaukee, along with Corey, Bryan Taylor, Nicolai Zander and the new guy on bass named Chad Stephenson.

Have I mentioned that Chad is hot as hell?

More about that later.

This is a spinoff of The Wretched Tales with new guitarist Hirah Blaze. She's kicking ass and taking names, looking to become the metal world's newest guitar goddess, but will she get sidetracked by The Wretched's gorgeous new bass player?

Closely Guarded by Michael Mandrake - PROTEKT series, book 2

Closely Guarded is just released from Pride Publishing. This is the second book in the PROTEKT series. It can be read standalone.

Blurb: Darien Mosely, aka BA Pointe, is a former NYPD officer with a chip on his shoulder. He came to PROTEKT in search of a new identity and career after being accused of killing a man in cold blood. Darien’s keen perception is what has made him an asset, but his cockiness has often landed him in hot water.

Kimball Emerson, aka Justice Masters, is an important figure in PROTEKT. Being a former army sergeant, he’s used to keeping secrets and being in danger on a regular basis. As one of the prime figures in the organization, he is counted on to be the finisher and, for the group’s latest task, he’s been called upon to find the leaders of a Russian mob. It should be easy enough with all his knowledge and special skills but not with his close friend Darien Mosely along for the ride.

Kimball made a promise to his fiancé that he’d come back in one piece and not watch his partner’s ass, but he isn’t sure he’ll be able to keep the latter. Darien and Kimball have been best friends for five years and, at a Christmas party several months ago, they shared a kiss that left an indelible mark on their relationship.

This latest mission calls for focus and calmer heads if they are to find the offenders who are bringing illegal drugs into Russia. The question is, how can they do it with mutual feelings and the threat of extreme danger looming over their heads?

Upper Manhattan, New York, three sixteen p.m.

“Okay, let’s start from the top. A one, and a two, and a one, two, three, four.” Darien Moseley, the drummer for the band Phuze, counted in rhythm and his bandmates Salvi Johann and Ira Passe followed his lead on bass and keyboards. They were a bare bones band who’d made their name on the local and national scene. They refused to compromise with record companies, so they’d created their own label, Musictyme, only using a bigger label for distribution.

Darien Mosely, aka BA Pointe, was largely part of their desire to stay virtually unknown, besides the band’s basic stubbornness. As a control freak, he ran the social media pages, negotiated contracts for distribution and sent the music to traditional and Internet radio stations. He took over the bulk of the work because, in his mind, it couldn’t be done right unless he was behind it. But he controlled everything to keep his cover secret for PROTEKT.

To Johann and Ira, he was just Darien—their drummer, manager and financial provider, willing to take over all tasks if needed. To PROTEKT, he was a top agent, working undercover on missions the authorities couldn’t complete. As of late, his directions from Chief Wes Moreland had been to lie low while they continued the search for Pablo Ora. But, as with all agents, they never worked on one solitary mission, because the need was too great.

“Darien. Hey, man, did you get lost in the music again?” Ira laughed and threw a guitar pick at him.

Darien stopped hitting his drum and dodged the small object flying in his direction. “For a minute,” he lied. “Hey, I’m not sure I like this part. Can we go over it one more time?”

Johann grimaced. “Man, we went through it like six times already. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s almost seven. I’d really like to get home before nine. The game’s on television, and I don’t wanna miss it.”

“Pssh, haven’t you ever heard of a DVR? Johann, we’re not leaving this place until we’re fully happy with this album. I’m not paying this studio money to put out a shitty-ass product, all right? I wanna watch the Giants, too, but this isn’t the time to fool around. This album’s gotta be done so I can leave at the end of the month.”

“You still haven’t told us where you’re going, man. In fact, you never do. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were an undercover spy working for the government or something,” Ira chided him.

Darien sighed, not saying anything in answer to that. If he did, it would open the door to suspicion from his bandmates and possibly put their lives in danger. “Forever the joker. I told you I need to go see my lover. You know, the one that finances my place and everything this band does? I promised to visit him abroad for a couple of months once the disc was done.”

“Abroad where?” Johann inquired. “And, why don’t you ever mention the cat’s name? Do ya think we’d go after the sap and look for him?”

“I told you. His name is Wesley.” That lie was almost true. Darien was going to see Wes but not for romance.

“And you and Wes are going…” Ira asked.

“I don’t know yet. I’m meeting him in Italy.” Another lie. He’d gotten used to telling them now.

“Ooh, Italy.” Johann swooned and walked over to Ira. “Look, babe, our Darien is going off to Roma to have a romantic rendezvous with his secret lover.”

“How come we haven’t been anywhere outside of the States? Why are you so dead set on keeping us here? We’re big, and people outside the USA wanna see us tour.”

“I told you. We don’t have enough popularity to waste money going to Europe,” he quipped.

“But you have the money to see your lovah boy,” Johann answered in a high-pitched tone.

“He’s paying for it, but I refuse to have the band travel to a country when we won’t sell out the venue. Anyway, this isn’t about me. It’s about this band and what we need to do to succeed. It’s worked for us so far. Why should we change things up now?” Darien looked at the couple who had been his friends for the last ten years.

Ira and Johann eyed one another then Darien. Neither appeared to be thoroughly convinced with his half-assed answer.

“I suppose you’re right, Darien. Things are good, and since you’ve got all the business sense, we let you run it. I can’t take care of our household money, let alone the band’s finances. Still, I think we should look to explore going overseas. The record sales have been good enough to at least go to Canada and do a short stint in Europe.”

Just as Darien was about to speak, his phone rang on his hip.

Saved by the bell!

Darien plucked the second phone from his holder, seeing Goofy Goober on the caller identification. The number was masked so that in the event he ever lost his phone, no one would know the contact digits or the person from PROTEKT who called him.

“Hang on, guys. I gotta take this. Work on that note a moment while I talk to my man.” He quickly got up from his drum kit.

“Ooh, oh, oh, kissy, kissy.” Johann laughed, along with his boyfriend Ira.

Darien harrumphed and sprinted out of their practice area to the side room he kept for conversations with Wes. After looking to make sure the coast was clear, he pushed the makeshift wall, revealing a tiny space for him to step into. Once he made it in, he shoved it back in place until it was locked tight. Good thing he was still skinny enough to fit inside this small space.

“Bonjour, mon ami.” Darien spoke low and in French, on the off chance the guys were in earshot.

“Well, I guess I’ve interrupted another brilliant jam session from the Phuze outfit, hmm?”

Darien smirked and slid down the wall until his butt hit the floor. “You did, but no worries. They’re in the next room, thinking I’m talking to my boyfriend. I’m pretty sure they can’t hear. We are in the middle of finishing this latest project, so I can’t talk long.”

“You wish I was.”

“No, actually you do, but I’m not the type that dates my boss.”

Wes cleared his throat. “Aren’t you in the soundproof room we had built for you?”

“Yeah, I am, but they’re asking too many questions. I’m really starting to wonder if they’re on to something.”

“I believe we’ve had this conversation before, BA. Your civilian job as a musician isn’t the smartest choice for this line of work. You’re a public figure—”

“As Darien Moseley, not any of my code names I use for the mission,” he interrupted.

“Still, you’re seen too much and you’re in a band with nosy friends. Cut the ties with the band and be a solo artist. I’d almost appreciate that better.”

“They’re my friends, Wes, and music is my second love,” he countered. “Making music is something I have to do to keep sane.” Darien gulped hard and rubbed the back of his neck. Sweat beaded under his hairline, making him feel gross. Uncomfortable. He desperately needed a shower.

“I get it. Believe me. You were a wreck when you came to us straight from NYPD. I know you’re suffering inside, and making that noise is your release.”

Darien almost appreciated the fatherly tone Wes took on, but he didn’t want to go into it.

“Yes, it is, but that’s not what you called me about, right?”

“No, it’s not. I’m fully aware that Bonnie Leighton and Clyde Huxley need your help, but right now, Justice Masters needs you more.”

Darien raised his head, staring straight ahead at the wood in front of him. Bonnie and Clyde were the code names for new agents Miranda Ashley and Devlin Crawford. They were busy trying to find Pablo Ora, son of fallen mobster Augustine.

Justice Masters, aka Kimball Emerson, was his closest friend other than Ira and Johann. He hoped the three would never meet because, if they did, it would mean only one thing—his own death.


“Yeah, sorry, sir. What’s wrong with Justice?”

“Nothing’s wrong with him, but he and Thalia will need your assistance with securing the Russian dignitary.”

Darien grimaced at that statement. Although that was part of the job, he hated being anyone’s bodyguard. “What? You really think he needs three of us to take care of him?”

“No, but there is a lot more to this than just protecting an important politician. We need to meet so I can give you the details. We’ll be at the headquarters close to Queens at ten p.m. sharp.”

“Will K—I mean Justice—be there, too?”

“Yes, as will Thalia.”

Thalia was the code name of BA’s other fellow agent. They hadn’t gotten along at all due to past history.

“Well, I guess one out of two ain’t bad,” he joked, trying his best to lighten the mood. Wes was so serious all the dang time, and he felt himself becoming a lot like him.

“Hmph. She’s a good agent, BA. I know you two aren’t friends.”

“Yeah, because she almost got me killed in Paris!”

“True, but Justice was there to save you.”

Darien shuddered at the thought of his best friend, who he’d always had more than a simple liking for, but Kimball was taken, damn near married. There was no chance his friend was leaving his partner Mike Jacoby.

“As he always is. All right then, so I’ll see you around ten,” BA said.

“Yes, and don’t be late.”

“I never am. See you then.”


The line went dead and Darien pushed the disconnect button. He raked his hand through his hair and shook his head, trying his best to get out of the haze.

Kimball needs me?

If only that were true, then he wouldn’t be alone. Darien’s double life as a PROTEKT agent and musician had become a welcome distraction—his way of forgetting about the hurt of being betrayed by NYPD and the loss of his parents at such an early age. This proved to be a blessing and a curse all at once because it numbed the feelings and took up so much time that he didn’t have to reflect on being by himself.

For the last four or so years, it had worked like a charm, but now, with his thirty-third birthday around the corner, Darien was tired of living the bachelor life and dating random men just to get the edge off. Perhaps it was best to forget about Kimball Emerson being his man and move on to find someone else to fill the void.

With much still on his mind, he forced himself up and slowly slid the paneling open. He looked both ways, making sure Ira and Johann weren’t in the vicinity, then stepped out, before quickly pushing the wall back together. He shoved the phone back on his belt clip and walked into the room. He hoped to mask the emotions of hearing about Kimball so his bandmates wouldn’t suspect.

“Hey, there you are. I think we found something we like a little better. You ready to hear it?” Johann called out to him, interrupting his train of thought.

“Yep. Let’s do it.” Darien smacked his sticks together and counted off again, waiting for his band members to follow. And this time the note did fit the tune they called Fainted a lot better than the last. Darien knew he could always count on his friends when he needed them most.

Though Darien was pleased at the outcome, his mind was miles away from the practice space. In less than a couple of hours he’d shed one personality and adopt another to prepare for a mission from his secret employer.

With every trip, he prepared himself for extreme danger, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Making music did sustain him, but living on the edge and executing justice was what kept him alive.

Thursday, October 20, 2016


As a lieutenant on the city's elite SWAT team, I had a job I loved. I lived in a beautiful penthouse apartment overlooking the city park. And the love of my life spent every night in my arms. My life was pretty damn good.
Which was why I was not thrilled that someone was messing with it.

Someone should have told me I was the comic relief. I would have prepared better for it or at least remembered to wear underwear. Tonight was the one year anniversary of the night Sal and I met. It was special. I was going to propose. It would have been a whole lot easier to propose if the man I wanted to propose to was actually there. Tonight was supposed to be perfect.

Which was why I was not thrilled that someone was messing with it.


Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Thicker than Water - Taboo Gay Romance

Thicker Than Water - Taboo Gay Romance

Lionel and Rodney, equally handsome and as close as two men can be, are invited to a threesome.  They find themselves more interested in each other than the person who invited them.  This is wrong—they know this fact just as well as they know each other.  Can they pursue something that might destroy everything?

Thicker Than Water presents three stories of taboo love between men.

The first, Twin Discovery, is Yamila Abraham’s prequel to the bestselling taboo novella Teaming Our Teacher.

Amelita Rae, the fastest-rising star in yaoi style novels, presents Polaroid, the story of a Sheriff who becomes the guardian to a younger man who looks at him in a way he shouldn’t.  Sheriff Lawson can’t force himself to look away.  How can a man who’s sworn to uphold the law violate one of society’s most notorious taboos?

Finally, Delmire Hart is introduced to readers for the first time with her story A Different Kind of Love.  When Aspen’s mother remarries he finds himself in close quarters with a burly new stepbrother.
Be aware, these stories present taboo relationships and graphic depictions of adult content.
Only $.99 until Friday Oct 7, or Free on Kindle Unlimited!  You can read kindle books on ANY device.  No Kindle required!  Click your country to grab it now:
Kindle USA, Kindle UK, Kindle Germany, Kindle Australia, Kindle Canada, Kindle France, Kindle Italy, Kindle Spain, Kindle Brazil, Kindle Mexico, Kindle Netherlands, Kindle Japan, or Kindle India!
Excerpt ~

The train jostled the twins as they traversed the Czech countryside. Rodney attempted to sleep with his jacket as a pillow against the train window.  Lionel, fast asleep beside him, had his seat tilted back, and his head lolled to one side.  He created an obstacle between Rodney and the train loo where he considered masturbating away his erection.

If he climbed over his brother, he knew he’d wake him.  Lionel would then notice the length of his absence.  He also wouldn’t be able to get it up again tonight if they found any girls.

He blew a frustrated sigh through puckered lips.  A threesome from two days ago beleaguered his mind.  The visions played on his eyelids whenever he closed his eyes.  Most prominent:  seeing his brother’s shuddering orgasm on the stomach of the girl they’d shared.

Rodney’s cock lurched.  Fuck.
It was the second time they double-teamed a willing country woman. The first event was awkward. Rodney wasn’t sure if he was allowed to grunt while fucking the woman.  Lionel emboldened him with the occasional wink and unrestrained moaning. He reassured Rodney that he could be as wild and erotic as he wished in his brother’s presence.

The most recent escapade went even further.  Lionel grasped his hips to urge him to fuck their shared woman even harder.  Their faces came near enough for them to be touched by each other’s breaths, and neither displayed any discomfort.  They’d watched each other come without trying to hide their eyes.  It looked like they were giving each other a show, jacking across from each other with heaving breaths.  Exploding with ribbons of white cum onto the belly of their shared partner.

Rodney still heard Lionel’s erotic grunts in his ears.


Lionel woke beside him.  He snuffled. “Let’s get laid tonight.”

“Yeah,” Rodney said.

“We can get a whore or something.  Go two-on-one on her.  That’s always fun, eh?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Lionel smiled and then nestled his head back on the padding of his chair. Rodney chewed his bottom lip.  He glanced at his brother’s crotch and noticed an erection going down his trouser leg.  His hand itched to reach over and give it a rub.

How ‘bout we forget the whore and shag each other?

No.  They’d never been like that.  Threesomes were one thing, but full on fucking each other was just wrong.


He gave another sigh.  How could he be thinking of his own brother that way?  They never should have started sharing women.  It was the gateway to something illicit he’d never given thought to before.

But fuck—it would be so hot.

When sex had grown mundane, even tedious due to their never ending nightly conquests, the thought of something so perverse was a thrill to Rodney.  How far would Lionel let him go?  Would they kiss and make love, or just jack each other off without making contact?

Then again, he may have been fantasizing something that repulsed Lionel. To show his desire might place a wedge between them that their relationship may never recover from.
Rodney winced at that thought.

Better to keep to myself than risk him hating me.

The train stopped at their destination in Prague.  They gathered their bags and headed to a youth hostel where they had a shared room.

After settling in, Rodney went to the communal men’s showers.  He found it to be two shower heads over an open tiled floor.  Lionel popped in beside him.

“Best use shower shoes,” his brother said.

“Right.”  Rodney headed back to their room to get them.

They’d never showered together.  In the past they would have taken turns to grant the other his privacy. It was foolishness now.  They’d seen each other’s bodies in the most intimate way possible.
When Rodney returned Lionel was already soaping his naked testicles under a stream of water.  Rodney’s breath caught at the sight of his beautiful ass.  Their identical bodies were composed of lean muscles covered in blond fuzz.  Lionel’s firm ass cheeks had the same dimples as his own.  The water made his flesh shine.

“Checking me out?” Lionel said.

Rodney scoffed.  They were too comfortable with each other for the accusation to sting him.  “May as well look at myself.”  He stripped speedily.

Lionel looked back at him twice and then gave a lingering glance when he got beside him.  Rodney didn’t dare meet his eyes.

You want me too, then?  Let’s go on and do it…just us two.


He focused on washing himself.

They dressed and went into the Old Town, by the river.  A festival was going on that had the archaic stone buildings covered in lights.  Crowds wandered with them through the cobbled streets and cute girls sauntered in groups. They each got a beer from passing vendors.  Lionel made his move on several women while Rodney played the part of the gorgeous twin beside him.  Aside from some giggles they got nowhere.

“Aw fuck it.”  Lionel got another beer.  “Let’s just get pissed.”

Rodney grumbled.  “But I’m horny, though.”

Lionel sipped and then turned up a hand.  “They don’t speak any bloody English.”

“We were going to get a whore.  What happened to that?”

He scanned the street.  “Let’s head into a pub.  See if there’s any about.”

The small pub was almost too crowded to get into.  Lionel shimmied his way to the bar and ordered whiskey. Rodney got a cognac.  The bartender was too busy to offer them any tips.

“Wait till it empties,” Lionel shouted over the din.

Fuck waiting.  He did his best not to daydream.  A pleasant buzz of inebriation settled over him.  Could he proposition his brother now and then claim it was the booze if he rejected him?

The men they started a conversation with beside them were tourists, the same as them.  When they left some older women took their place.  Lionel focused on them since he fancied experience women.  Neither spoke English.  They killed some time miming conversation.

Once they broke the ice Lionel hit on them by raising his brows and pointing to his crotch.  Rodney tried to laugh off his crudeness, but the women looked interested.  They spoke enthusiastically in their Slavic tongue. Lionel was at a loss.  He pointed to his crotch a second time and then tipped his head toward the door of the pub.  One of the women started digging around in her purse.  She took out a medicine bottle and placed a small blue pill in his hand.  Then they smiled, patted his shoulder, and left.

Lionel displayed the pill to Rodney.

“What the fuck is this?”

He squinted.  “Ecstasy?”

“Naw, it’s like some professional stuff.  From a chemist or whatnot.”

Rodney shrugged.

After several hours the bar emptied.  Lionel leaned near the pot-bellied bartender when he came by.
“Where can we find some working girls, eh?”

He made a face.  “No in Old Town.  They not like curfew here.”

“Curfew?” Rodney said.

The middle-aged man pointed to his watch.  “Last drink.”

“What in the bloody fuck!” Lionel slammed his palm on the bar.

“Bullocks.”  Rodney saw the last of the patrons filtering out.

Lionel grabbed the sleeve of his button-down shirt and pulled him out. “We’ll go into the alleys.  Got to be someone.”

They speed-walked down the pavement, scanning each alleyway for activity. When they got to a crosswalk, a magistrate blew a whistle at them.  He spat it out onto its hanging chain and ordered them in the Slavic language.

“You got English?” Rodney said.

“Go home, Americans!  Is curfew!”

“Do we sound like bloody Americans, you twat?” Lionel said.

Rodney hooked his arm and nearly wrenched him off his feet.  They were several meters away from the officer before he dared speak.

“You want to end up in a Czech prison?”

Lionel made a tss noise through his teeth and broke free from his arm. “What the fuck, then?  We got to jack off in that fucking hostel room?  We ain’t fucked anyone in a week.”

“Three days.”  Rodney led the way into the hostel.

“Feels longer.”  He ranted loud enough for the owner to glare at him from behind the check-in counter. “How’s it that now one speaks English here?  Those older ones at the bar were game.  I could have worked it if we knew the fucking language.”

Rodney headed up the staircase to their room.  “You really wanted two old birds like that?  They had to be married, right?”

“So?  They could fetch their old mans and we could have a proper orgy.”

Rodney made a groan of disgust.  “What if they were old fat toffers like that bartender?”
“Who gives a fuck, so long as they’re clean?”

Rodney gaped back at him.

His brother shrugged with both shoulders.  “What’s it matter if they’re a bit beefy?  A stiff cock, or a swollen clit is sexy.  It don’t matter what’s attached to it, so long as they ain’t belching or farting or whatnot.  Their hands on the skin feel just as good as any others.  All we fuck are tens.  Ain’t you ripe for something new?”

Rodney thought about this as he unlocked their door.  “Course I am.  Though I don’t fancy some fat old sweaty bloke getting it on with me.”

Lionel shook his head.  “No, I don’t either.  But if they were fine things, like us, wouldn’t that be all right?”

Rodney plopped down on the solitary queen sized bed in the room. Lionel locked the door and then crawled past him to sit against the headboard.  He toed off his shoes and reclined next to Lionel.  For a short while he just looked at the mirror image of his own face.

After wetting his lips, Rodney said, “You want to start going after blokes, then?”

He saw his brother hesitating.  “What do you think of that?”

Rodney concentrated.  “Should be a good deal easier than getting with a girl.”

“Right.  Exactly. They’ve got their own districts and what not.  You show up there and it’s a clear way to say you’re looking for a bloke to fuck.”


Silence followed.  After a minute Lionel started up again.  “So with men then.  One’s just as fine as us.  You’re all right with that?”

Rodney leaned back against the headboard.  In front of them was an ancient television set, currently turned off. He looked at their reflection on the dark grey screen.

“I don’t think either of us would be called gay,” Rodney said.


“But we’re adventurous, right?”


Rodney turned up one hand as he spoke.  “I could see myself kissing a bloke.  Getting it on with him.  If he were as sexy as me that is.”

“That’s how I feel too.  And it’d be easier, too.  Like you said.”

Rodney met his brother’s eyes.  “But we got no experience.  What if he wants to be fucking us up the bum?  We can’t just dive into that sort of thing.  You have to be broken in.  Otherwise it’s too painful.  We could get injured.”

“I don’t fancy a cock up my ass,” Lionel said, with the beginnings of a sneer. “I was just thinking about the rest of it.  Sucking and fucking them and whatnot.”

Rodney didn’t look toward him.  “I could take a cock in my ass.  Sounds exciting.”

Lionel looked at him with a raised brow.  “Is that right?”

He demurred.  “Yeah. If we’re being honest.”

“We ought to be, don’t you think?  It’s good to get it all out sometimes.”

Rodney nodded enthusiastically.  The conversation petered out.  Neither got up to retrieve the remote for the television.  They sat staring at it, as though it were on, but only their thoughts were playing.

Rodney thought of Lionel gently guiding him through his first anal sex. Squirming his fingers in his ass, then pushing in his greased cock nice and slow.  His eyes closed.  God, it would be hot.

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