Posts
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Merry Christmas!
No new book today, but I just wanted to say Merry Christmas from Steph and I. Have a great day and stay safe!
Monday, December 24, 2007
A Lick of Frost by Laurell K Hamilton
Today I took some time for me. That means to do some reading for enjoyment. Something I rarely do anymore *sigh* Well, as I knew it would happen when I started this book last night, I'd get hooked and in less than 24 hours it was completed. Now I have to wait about a year for another one *double sigh*
If you read the Merry Gentry books, you'll enjoy this one. I will warn that there are maybe a total of two sex scenes. Very, very low compared to her last Merry book, Mistral's Kiss. It isn't until Ch 15/pg 154 that Merry gets intimate with one of her men. Some of her readers can't complain this time around about all the sex poor Merry is having (though I'm not one to complain as I stare at awe at the great sex she's having *lol* )
This books deals a lot more with the plot going on around Merry and why her Uncle is so insistant on seeing her. I won't spoil the plot for anyone but there are several twists that I didn't see coming and several I did. Her Aunt is such a bitch and her uncle a loone. But there is both great joy and sadness toward the end of the book. I admit, I cried like a baby. The title was appropriate.
This is a great book, but make sure you have time to get drawn into it as it sucks you in from the first chapter.
A Lick of Frost
by Laurell K Hamilton
Print book
Available at major book stores
and Amazon.com
Read Excerpt and more information at
http://www.laurellkhamilton.org/Merry/ALickOfFrost.html
To be crowned queen, I must first continue the royal bloodline and give birth to an heir of my own. If I fail, my aunt, Queen Andais, will be free to do what she most desires: install her twisted son, Cel, as monarch . . . and kill me.
My royal guards surround me, and my best loved–my Darkness and my Killing Frost–are always beside me, sworn to protect and make love to me. But still the threat grows greater. For despite all my carnal efforts, I remain childless, while the machinations of my sinister, sadistic Queen and her confederates remain tireless. So my bodyguards and I have slipped back into Los Angeles, hoping to outrun the gathering shadows of court intrigue. But even exile isn’t enough to escape the grasp of those with dark designs.
Now King Taranis, powerful and vainglorious ruler of faerie’s Seelie Court, has leveled accusations against my noble guards of a heinous crime–and has gone so far as to ask the mortal authorities to prosecute. If he succeeds, my men face extradition to faerie and the hideous penalties that await them there. But I know that Taranis’s charges are baseless, and I sense that his true target is me. He tried to kill me when I was a child. Now I fear his intentions are far more terrifying.
If you read the Merry Gentry books, you'll enjoy this one. I will warn that there are maybe a total of two sex scenes. Very, very low compared to her last Merry book, Mistral's Kiss. It isn't until Ch 15/pg 154 that Merry gets intimate with one of her men. Some of her readers can't complain this time around about all the sex poor Merry is having (though I'm not one to complain as I stare at awe at the great sex she's having *lol* )
This books deals a lot more with the plot going on around Merry and why her Uncle is so insistant on seeing her. I won't spoil the plot for anyone but there are several twists that I didn't see coming and several I did. Her Aunt is such a bitch and her uncle a loone. But there is both great joy and sadness toward the end of the book. I admit, I cried like a baby. The title was appropriate.
This is a great book, but make sure you have time to get drawn into it as it sucks you in from the first chapter.
A Lick of Frostby Laurell K Hamilton
Print book
Available at major book stores
and Amazon.com
Read Excerpt and more information at
http://www.laurellkhamilton.org/Merry/ALickOfFrost.html
To be crowned queen, I must first continue the royal bloodline and give birth to an heir of my own. If I fail, my aunt, Queen Andais, will be free to do what she most desires: install her twisted son, Cel, as monarch . . . and kill me.
My royal guards surround me, and my best loved–my Darkness and my Killing Frost–are always beside me, sworn to protect and make love to me. But still the threat grows greater. For despite all my carnal efforts, I remain childless, while the machinations of my sinister, sadistic Queen and her confederates remain tireless. So my bodyguards and I have slipped back into Los Angeles, hoping to outrun the gathering shadows of court intrigue. But even exile isn’t enough to escape the grasp of those with dark designs.
Now King Taranis, powerful and vainglorious ruler of faerie’s Seelie Court, has leveled accusations against my noble guards of a heinous crime–and has gone so far as to ask the mortal authorities to prosecute. If he succeeds, my men face extradition to faerie and the hideous penalties that await them there. But I know that Taranis’s charges are baseless, and I sense that his true target is me. He tried to kill me when I was a child. Now I fear his intentions are far more terrifying.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
The Gift by Rob Graham
Looking for something special to give that loved one? Give them the pleasure of showing how freeing BDSM truly is by sharing Mr. Rob Graham's The Gift. They'll gladly give control over to you for some steamy holiday nights!
Stephanie
EXCERPT:
Stephanie
The Gift by Rob Graham
Publisher: Phaze
ISBN 1-59426-478-3
$3
$3
Charlene Raleigh knows where she is going in life. She knows she won't get there without jettisoning a lot of useless baggage. Things like pleasure, joy and sex are things she's leaving out of her life until she succeeds in reaching her goal.
Then she meets Tom Jackson. Although Charlene tries very hard to deny it, her emotions flare when he's around. For once, she has no control. And to her surprise, she enjoys this very much.
Step by step, Tom leads her, guides her, draws out of her all the feelings and drives Charlene thought were of no use to her.
When Charlene is ready, Tom gives her a gift. The gift of herself.
EXCERPT:
Going behind her desk, Charlene sat down. "So, what can I do for you today, Mr. Jackson?" A touch of frost rimed the edges of her words.
"I need you to set up a trust fund for me," was his reply.
Inwardly Charlene rolled her eyes. This man couldn't possibly have much money for such a thing, and a small trust was almost as much trouble to set up as a large one. "And how much money is available for the fund?" She dreaded the answer.
"Twenty-five million dollars."
The amount completely derailed Charlene's train of thought. Not possible flashed inside her. She stared at Mr. Jackson for several long seconds.
"And where will the funds for this be drawn from?" Charlene finally managed to ask. I'm going to have to see the color of your money, sir, echoed through her mind, with a touch of sarcasm on the 'sir'.
Mr. Jackson pulled a wallet from his jeans, reached into it, and took out a folded sheet of paper.
He handed it to Charlene. It was a bank statement showing that this particular account did indeed contain twenty-five million dollars.
She blinked at it. What was happening was too strange. The paper in her hands and the man behind it couldn't mesh in her mind.
After another pause she managed to ask, "And the purpose of this trust?" Charlene's words were no longer frosty. Instead, they were a little unsure.
"I want to set up scholarships for inner city kids, the type who normally wouldn't get to go to a good university."
What?!
"But Mr. Jackson! Surely there other strategies you could use the trust for. The tax avoidance alone is…"
"Ms. Raleigh." His voice wasn't raised but it stopped her dead. She looked at him and quailed inside. That force that had affected her earlier was back. Without any physical change save a narrowing of the eyes, power filled him.
This was not a man she should question. "Are you going to do what I ask?" Mr. Jackson went on.
Without thinking Charlene answered, "Yes, sir," and lowered her eyes.
Thus she didn't see his expression change. The strength there became curiosity. After a moment it transformed again and he smiled, a smile of anticipation. It faded just before she raised her eyes again.
"All right then, let's get to work," he told her.
Over the next hour Charlene outlined what she wanted to do. Mr. Jackson approved her ideas for the most part. His only quibble was to add extra security in the form of an independent auditor, plus more for investigation. She thought that a bit much, but he was the boss.
Soon they had the basics decided on and Mr. Jackson rose to leave. Charlene also came to her feet. "Thank you, Ms. Raleigh," he said, "you can be quite competent when you're not trying too hard to be strong."
Charlene blushed for a second, happy with the praise. Then she puzzled. Was that praise?
"How soon can we start the scholarships?" he asked, keeping her from pondering further.
"It won't take long. In about two months, I'm sure."
"Good. I don't want any kids lost if I can help it." His voice betrayed his concern.
Again, Charlene was confused. All the wealthy men she had met before had been strong, as Mr.
Jackson was. Few had really cared about anything but themselves. Mr. Jackson was actually worried that a child might get left behind. She stared at him in wonder.
He extended his hand to her and Charlene took it without thinking. A shock ran through her at his touch. Her stomach grew hollow, her head ballooned and she felt her heart flutter.
Mr. Jackson let go of her. Charlene stood there for a second, blinking, hand hanging in the air.
"Ms. Raleigh?" His words bought her back to reality. "Show me out, please."
Charlene was moving before he said the 'please'. She escorted him to the reception area.
Mr. Jackson handed her a card then. "Be at this address at one PM on Saturday, buzz the number listed." His face showed no anxiety, no doubt, as was so often the case when men asked her out. He was confident she would assent.
Charlene's eyes went wide with shock. She opened her mouth to refuse.
Mr. Jackson's face took on its power. You're not denying me, his expression exclaimed.
She bowed her head before him and agreed. Again she was awash in that strange feeling.
Familiarity was not decreasing the effect, just the opposite. "What should I wear?" she asked.
"Something practical, we're going to be outdoors most of the day."
Mr. Jackson took her hand in farewell. Once more, it jolted her, set her to trembling. "This Saturday," he repeated.
He released her hand, swiveled, and strode out the door.
Charlene watched until he disappeared. Turning, she returned to her office and sat down.
What have I got myself into? Was the only rational thought in her mind.
She was quite distracted the rest of the day.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Phaze Fantasies, Vol. I by Alessia Brio, Leigh Ellwood, Bridget Midway and Ann Regentin
Looking for something special? I recently had the opportunity to edit this book for print and must say you cannot find a more diverse bunch of innovative stories! There's a terrific selection of erotic tales that come with this one. What ever your taste be it reality or down right fantasy it's here! So take a peek in e-book and now in print also.
Stephanie
Stephanie
Phaze Fantasies, Vol. I
From Pura Vida! by Alessia Brio
Charlie descended the rolling metal staircase onto the tarmac at Juan Santamaría International Airport, shielding his eyes with one hand as he made his way into the terminal. Even though Stormy promised to meet him at the little café on the other side of Customs, he scanned the crowd for her anyway--eager to see her again. It had been several months since they parted company in Pittsburgh; he to promote his new company, and she to expand the presence of hers in Jamaica and Costa Rica.
Stormy's advertising company now topped her former employer's for tourism-related accounts, and she partnered with Charlie's newly-launched travel agency--Pura Vida!--whenever feasible. Together they explored exotic vacation destinations and documented the most sensual and serene aspects of their trips. Their business ventures dovetailed beautifully, and when they combined their creativity, they could make even a mosquito-infested swamp seem like the sexiest place on earth. The lucky folks who followed their travel advice invariably agreed, and their talents were in great demand--both individually and as a team.
Her e-mail had simply read: Found an opportunity near Jaco. I need your advice (and I want your body). Come soonest. I guarantee it'll be worth your while. Charlie admired her moxie. Stormy didn't make requests; she gave directions--but she did so in an utterly compelling fashion. Knowing that she tolerated neither fools nor sycophants, he was pleased that--in spite of her wild successes--she still sought him out for both advice and sex. She could have anyone she chose, and she chose him. That fact would make any man feel good about himself.
To be fair, his own accomplishments rivaled those of Stormy, and he had no shortage of offers to partner with other business--and personal--interests. Somehow, they all paled in comparison to the energy and innovation Stormy brought to both the boardroom and the bedroom. She challenged him in every way imaginable, and he realized very early in their relationship that he might never find a better partner with whom to explore new territory, both personally and professionally.
Jess' uncanny intuition, Mia's diplomacy, Richard's encyclopedic knowledge of the sexual psyche, and Sam's organizational talents combined to complete their winning team's roster. If intimacy was the sun, they orbited it like planets--each independent, but each influenced by the pull of the others. Their paths crossed in varying combinations, but always cooperated to form a balanced system. While their interactions might seem seedy and tabloid-worthy to the unfamiliar, within their ranks they functioned much like a Heinlein family.
Charlie spotted Stormy before she noticed him. She looked relaxed yet vibrant, sipping an iced mocha latte and chatting with a stunning young man as they awaited his arrival. Pietro, he assumed, their newest team member. When the Costa Rican government signed a long-term advertising contract, Stormy offered the former rainforest tour guide a job as manager of a local office--a move which pleased both the local business community as well as the entrepreneurial young tico. She met Pietro on the same fateful trip that brought her into his world, and Charlie suspected Pietro's would also never be the same.
Stormy glanced at her cell phone and a small frown creased her brow. She rapidly punched its keypad with both thumbs and snapped it closed just as Charlie's phone beeped in the pocket of his jeans. "Where are you?" the text message read. He grinned and shot off a reply, watching her reaction as she received and read it.
She stood and peered through the glass, searching for him with her hands forming parentheses around laughing brown eyes. When she spotted him, she pressed her lips to the glass, winked, and waved. Charlie fired off another text message and waited for her reply. He drew the stares of his fellow travelers as he laughed out loud at her response: "Yes, but he doesn't know it yet."
It took another ten minutes to make it through the Customs line. The moment he stepped through the security checkpoint, Stormy pounced. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she breathed into his ear, "I've missed you!"
Pietro hung back, looking a wee bit uncomfortable. Peeling Stormy off of him, Charlie extended his hand and introduced himself in halting Spanish, which earned him an appreciative nod and a brilliant smile. Gorgeous didn't even begin to describe the man! Stormy swore his looks had no bearing on her decision to employ him; that she chose him because his charisma and wit relaxed the stodgiest of government officials, and his resourcefulness enabled the office to capitalize on even the smallest business advantage. Charlie believed her, but he knew that she also appreciated his appearance a great deal.
"Gracias, señor. Stormy was just telling me that Pura Vida! topped its first quarter earnings by nearly thirty percent. That's very impressive for a brand new company!"
Charlie grinned. "Yes, well, at least part of that is due to our alliance. We're still drawing a nice chunk of business from Stormy's Wetter Has Never Been Better campaign. Sex sells, mi amigo, regardless of what the fundamentalists would like us to believe. It's an inescapable--and wholly natural--part of who we are."
"Careful." Stormy nudged Pietro's ribs with an elbow. "He's about to get preachy. Better change the subject or he'll be talking about sex all the way to the coast! The Right Reverend Charles Thomas delivering the sexual gospel."
"Seeing as how it's one of my favorite subjects--correction: my all time favorite subject--I'd welcome that! He'd be preaching to the choir, though." Pietro gestured toward a battered 4x4 parked at the curb. "Shall we be on our way?
by Alessia Brio, Leigh Ellwood, Bridget Midway and Ann Regentin
Publisher: Phaze
Anthology
eBook or CD (5 formats, zipped)
ISBN 1-59426-556-9
$7.00
ISBN 1-59426-556-9
$7.00
Trade Paperback
ISBN 978-1-59426-954-7
$14.00
ISBN 978-1-59426-954-7
$14.00
Four tales of erotic fiction by four Phaze favorites! Alessia Brio continues the Costa Rican adventure that launched fine flickering hungers, her EPPIE Finalist. Bridget Midway shines with "Service Recall," a tale of relationship rebound done right. Leigh Ellwood opens the door to a magical menagé in "Midnight Passions." And Ann Regentin's "Midnight Conversations" explores the sexual memories of a fixer-upper's past occupants.
EXCERPT:
From Pura Vida! by Alessia Brio
Charlie descended the rolling metal staircase onto the tarmac at Juan Santamaría International Airport, shielding his eyes with one hand as he made his way into the terminal. Even though Stormy promised to meet him at the little café on the other side of Customs, he scanned the crowd for her anyway--eager to see her again. It had been several months since they parted company in Pittsburgh; he to promote his new company, and she to expand the presence of hers in Jamaica and Costa Rica.
By the time he reached the terminal, the muggy tropical air had his shirt clinging to his back, but the cooled interior dried him quickly. His mind swirled with memories of their first encounter, nearly three years ago, when together they discovered the sensual delights of the Costa Rican rain. While ostensibly a business trip, both their private and public lives had been forever changed by the experience; their horizons expanded in ways neither anticipated.
Stormy's advertising company now topped her former employer's for tourism-related accounts, and she partnered with Charlie's newly-launched travel agency--Pura Vida!--whenever feasible. Together they explored exotic vacation destinations and documented the most sensual and serene aspects of their trips. Their business ventures dovetailed beautifully, and when they combined their creativity, they could make even a mosquito-infested swamp seem like the sexiest place on earth. The lucky folks who followed their travel advice invariably agreed, and their talents were in great demand--both individually and as a team.
Her e-mail had simply read: Found an opportunity near Jaco. I need your advice (and I want your body). Come soonest. I guarantee it'll be worth your while. Charlie admired her moxie. Stormy didn't make requests; she gave directions--but she did so in an utterly compelling fashion. Knowing that she tolerated neither fools nor sycophants, he was pleased that--in spite of her wild successes--she still sought him out for both advice and sex. She could have anyone she chose, and she chose him. That fact would make any man feel good about himself.
To be fair, his own accomplishments rivaled those of Stormy, and he had no shortage of offers to partner with other business--and personal--interests. Somehow, they all paled in comparison to the energy and innovation Stormy brought to both the boardroom and the bedroom. She challenged him in every way imaginable, and he realized very early in their relationship that he might never find a better partner with whom to explore new territory, both personally and professionally.
Jess' uncanny intuition, Mia's diplomacy, Richard's encyclopedic knowledge of the sexual psyche, and Sam's organizational talents combined to complete their winning team's roster. If intimacy was the sun, they orbited it like planets--each independent, but each influenced by the pull of the others. Their paths crossed in varying combinations, but always cooperated to form a balanced system. While their interactions might seem seedy and tabloid-worthy to the unfamiliar, within their ranks they functioned much like a Heinlein family.
Charlie spotted Stormy before she noticed him. She looked relaxed yet vibrant, sipping an iced mocha latte and chatting with a stunning young man as they awaited his arrival. Pietro, he assumed, their newest team member. When the Costa Rican government signed a long-term advertising contract, Stormy offered the former rainforest tour guide a job as manager of a local office--a move which pleased both the local business community as well as the entrepreneurial young tico. She met Pietro on the same fateful trip that brought her into his world, and Charlie suspected Pietro's would also never be the same.
Stormy glanced at her cell phone and a small frown creased her brow. She rapidly punched its keypad with both thumbs and snapped it closed just as Charlie's phone beeped in the pocket of his jeans. "Where are you?" the text message read. He grinned and shot off a reply, watching her reaction as she received and read it.
She stood and peered through the glass, searching for him with her hands forming parentheses around laughing brown eyes. When she spotted him, she pressed her lips to the glass, winked, and waved. Charlie fired off another text message and waited for her reply. He drew the stares of his fellow travelers as he laughed out loud at her response: "Yes, but he doesn't know it yet."
It took another ten minutes to make it through the Customs line. The moment he stepped through the security checkpoint, Stormy pounced. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she breathed into his ear, "I've missed you!"
Pietro hung back, looking a wee bit uncomfortable. Peeling Stormy off of him, Charlie extended his hand and introduced himself in halting Spanish, which earned him an appreciative nod and a brilliant smile. Gorgeous didn't even begin to describe the man! Stormy swore his looks had no bearing on her decision to employ him; that she chose him because his charisma and wit relaxed the stodgiest of government officials, and his resourcefulness enabled the office to capitalize on even the smallest business advantage. Charlie believed her, but he knew that she also appreciated his appearance a great deal.
"Gracias, señor. Stormy was just telling me that Pura Vida! topped its first quarter earnings by nearly thirty percent. That's very impressive for a brand new company!"
Charlie grinned. "Yes, well, at least part of that is due to our alliance. We're still drawing a nice chunk of business from Stormy's Wetter Has Never Been Better campaign. Sex sells, mi amigo, regardless of what the fundamentalists would like us to believe. It's an inescapable--and wholly natural--part of who we are."
"Careful." Stormy nudged Pietro's ribs with an elbow. "He's about to get preachy. Better change the subject or he'll be talking about sex all the way to the coast! The Right Reverend Charles Thomas delivering the sexual gospel."
"Seeing as how it's one of my favorite subjects--correction: my all time favorite subject--I'd welcome that! He'd be preaching to the choir, though." Pietro gestured toward a battered 4x4 parked at the curb. "Shall we be on our way?
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Melting Ice by DJ Manly
Anyone who knows me, knows my love for gay fiction. I love reading and writing it. So it's no surprise when I found DJ Manly and her splendid writing style. Melting Ice was her first work I read and fell for Ice *pant* It was also easy to follow this story and get absorbed by it until I didn't want to stop reading until I was done.
If you like M/M romance fiction and especially about cops, yeah, this book is for you :D
Marty
Melting Ice
by DJ Manly
Publisher: Mojo Castle
Cover Artist: April Martinez
ISBN: 1-60180-003-7
Length: Bedtime Story
Price: 3.99
BUY BOOK
A young cop, in the closet and isolated, is transferred to the bikers squad, where he is betrayed by a higher ranking officer. When Brian Fuller finds himself in the middle of a field surrounded by a group of notorious outlaw bikers, he is in for the fight of his life.
He wakes up battered and bruised, only to discover that he is the hostage of the gang's leader, the infamous, brutally handsome Ice. At first, Brian doesn't understand why he is still alive. It turns out that the man who murdered Ice's family, is the same one who left Brian for dead... and Ice intends on trading Brian's life to get him as soon as Brian is strong enough. In the meantime, while Ice waits for Brian to heal, a raging sexual heat between them begins to fuel.
Melting Ice is a story of great passion, sizzling sex, and above all, a love story laced with the unexpected.
EXCERPT:
I wasn't sure who he was, but within a few minutes of seeing him, I was sure that he was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. Now remember, I wasn't exactly in cruising mode. I was frustrated, enraged and in pain, and still the man facing me took my goddamned breath away. He stood at least six-foot-four. The tight jeans and T-shirt he wore weren't intended to be sexy, but they were because he had a luscious body; hard, compact, muscular and lean. His hair was coal black and hung over his broad, square shoulders, settling on his back about halfway to an ass that could only be described as a delight to behold. And yes, I could see his ass, because he walked into the room and stood between me and the mirror. His eyes, well, they weren't brown, or even black. In fact, they looked blue, cobalt blue, and at the moment, it seemed as if there were sparks flying out of them.
I don't know who was angrier, him or I, but through the maze of all that hostility, my heart beat like a drum in my chest when he approached. "I believe you wanted to see me," he said. "I'm Ice."
When he spoke, his voice was deep and steady. I couldn't detect an accent, but from the creamy tan colour of his skin, he was definitely of Latin origin. My mind quickly reviewed the descriptions I'd received of him. Tall...yes, dark...yes. But the eyes were blue, damn it, dark blue, and as for the large package, umm...well, that appeared to be a fact. The jeans did nothing to disguise that he was hung like a horse.
"Fuller, I'm talking to you," he said. "What do you want?"
I snapped back to reality; the anger that had been simmering inside me now making a full recovery. "What in fuck is going on here?" I had some difficulty rising to my feet from where I sat on the bed. My leg hurt like hell. "How long do you intend to keep me cooped up in this room?"
He looked me over, then walked around the room as if he were appraising it. "What's wrong, cop? You're not happy with the accommodations?" He gave me a cheesy grin. "You prefer the Ritz?"
"Very funny. Why didn't you just kill me? What use am I to you?"
He lifted his hand for a moment. "I have no reason to kill you."
"You have no reason to bandage me up and feed me, either."
"Maybe I do," he said softly. He came to stand in front of me. He let his gaze move over me again, then slip back to my face. I think I blushed. I felt as if he'd just undressed me, raped me, then lit up a cigarette. "You're pretty fucked up, Fuller."
"I probably need a doctor. I might have a bullet in my leg."
"It went right through. You were lucky, it didn't hit the bone," he said without blinking.
I let myself study his face for a moment. It was a beautiful face, smooth angles, almost sculptured. Michelangelo would have wept painting him; creamed his pants first, then wept.
"How in the hell do you know that?"
"A doctor took a look at it."
"A doctor, too? Why go to all that trouble?" I eyed him suspiciously.
"Maybe I was concerned."
"Right. Now, what's the real reason?"
He narrowed his eyes. "You need a cane. I'll make sure you get one," he said, turning toward the door.
"Oh no," I said, reaching out and grabbing his arm.
He didn't yank it away, just turned around and glared at me. "Don't you ever grab me again, or I'll break your neck."
He never raised his voice. It still retained that calm, soft tone. Only his eyes gave him away. His emotions were written in those eyes of his, releasing lethal sparks again.
I let go of his arm and took a step back. "Fine. Just know this. I'm not staying in this room another day. So either kill me or let me out of here."
He pursed his lips for a moment, considering what I'd said. He nodded. "You'll sleep in my room."
Want more of DJ's books? Visit her website at http://www.djmanly.com/index.html
If you like M/M romance fiction and especially about cops, yeah, this book is for you :D
Marty
Melting Iceby DJ Manly
Publisher: Mojo Castle
Cover Artist: April Martinez
ISBN: 1-60180-003-7
Length: Bedtime Story
Price: 3.99
BUY BOOK
A young cop, in the closet and isolated, is transferred to the bikers squad, where he is betrayed by a higher ranking officer. When Brian Fuller finds himself in the middle of a field surrounded by a group of notorious outlaw bikers, he is in for the fight of his life.
He wakes up battered and bruised, only to discover that he is the hostage of the gang's leader, the infamous, brutally handsome Ice. At first, Brian doesn't understand why he is still alive. It turns out that the man who murdered Ice's family, is the same one who left Brian for dead... and Ice intends on trading Brian's life to get him as soon as Brian is strong enough. In the meantime, while Ice waits for Brian to heal, a raging sexual heat between them begins to fuel.
Melting Ice is a story of great passion, sizzling sex, and above all, a love story laced with the unexpected.
EXCERPT:
I wasn't sure who he was, but within a few minutes of seeing him, I was sure that he was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. Now remember, I wasn't exactly in cruising mode. I was frustrated, enraged and in pain, and still the man facing me took my goddamned breath away. He stood at least six-foot-four. The tight jeans and T-shirt he wore weren't intended to be sexy, but they were because he had a luscious body; hard, compact, muscular and lean. His hair was coal black and hung over his broad, square shoulders, settling on his back about halfway to an ass that could only be described as a delight to behold. And yes, I could see his ass, because he walked into the room and stood between me and the mirror. His eyes, well, they weren't brown, or even black. In fact, they looked blue, cobalt blue, and at the moment, it seemed as if there were sparks flying out of them.
I don't know who was angrier, him or I, but through the maze of all that hostility, my heart beat like a drum in my chest when he approached. "I believe you wanted to see me," he said. "I'm Ice."
When he spoke, his voice was deep and steady. I couldn't detect an accent, but from the creamy tan colour of his skin, he was definitely of Latin origin. My mind quickly reviewed the descriptions I'd received of him. Tall...yes, dark...yes. But the eyes were blue, damn it, dark blue, and as for the large package, umm...well, that appeared to be a fact. The jeans did nothing to disguise that he was hung like a horse.
"Fuller, I'm talking to you," he said. "What do you want?"
I snapped back to reality; the anger that had been simmering inside me now making a full recovery. "What in fuck is going on here?" I had some difficulty rising to my feet from where I sat on the bed. My leg hurt like hell. "How long do you intend to keep me cooped up in this room?"
He looked me over, then walked around the room as if he were appraising it. "What's wrong, cop? You're not happy with the accommodations?" He gave me a cheesy grin. "You prefer the Ritz?"
"Very funny. Why didn't you just kill me? What use am I to you?"
He lifted his hand for a moment. "I have no reason to kill you."
"You have no reason to bandage me up and feed me, either."
"Maybe I do," he said softly. He came to stand in front of me. He let his gaze move over me again, then slip back to my face. I think I blushed. I felt as if he'd just undressed me, raped me, then lit up a cigarette. "You're pretty fucked up, Fuller."
"I probably need a doctor. I might have a bullet in my leg."
"It went right through. You were lucky, it didn't hit the bone," he said without blinking.
I let myself study his face for a moment. It was a beautiful face, smooth angles, almost sculptured. Michelangelo would have wept painting him; creamed his pants first, then wept.
"How in the hell do you know that?"
"A doctor took a look at it."
"A doctor, too? Why go to all that trouble?" I eyed him suspiciously.
"Maybe I was concerned."
"Right. Now, what's the real reason?"
He narrowed his eyes. "You need a cane. I'll make sure you get one," he said, turning toward the door.
"Oh no," I said, reaching out and grabbing his arm.
He didn't yank it away, just turned around and glared at me. "Don't you ever grab me again, or I'll break your neck."
He never raised his voice. It still retained that calm, soft tone. Only his eyes gave him away. His emotions were written in those eyes of his, releasing lethal sparks again.
I let go of his arm and took a step back. "Fine. Just know this. I'm not staying in this room another day. So either kill me or let me out of here."
He pursed his lips for a moment, considering what I'd said. He nodded. "You'll sleep in my room."
Want more of DJ's books? Visit her website at http://www.djmanly.com/index.html
Monday, December 10, 2007
Come and Get Me by Alyssa Brooks
Surprised be a marriage proposal from her boyfriend of six months - with her parents looking on no less - Sadie feels like she can't say no. But when sexually explicit nightmares and panic attacks start as she's lovingly guilt tripped into the wedding of their parents' dreams, she can't resist the urge to run and gets caught in the act.
Dylan can't believe Sadie's acting so irresponsibly with this game of come and get me, but he won't lose their future or her love over it. When he finally sees the challenge for what it is - a test of their love for them both - Dylan turns the tables on Sadie and the leader becomes pursuer. With the both of them winning some sexy sweet to OhMiGod moments as they race around the world's most exotic locations.
Too Hot To Handle does not do this story justice! The afterglow and sweet smile on your face when you've read the end leaves you fulfilled and wanting to celebrate this loving couple's first anniversary with them. This white-hot author leaves you with the impression of the rules and the locations of "The Game" are about to be rocked again!
I hope we get to see Come and Get Me Again!!
Stephanie
Come and Get Me
Dylan can't believe Sadie's acting so irresponsibly with this game of come and get me, but he won't lose their future or her love over it. When he finally sees the challenge for what it is - a test of their love for them both - Dylan turns the tables on Sadie and the leader becomes pursuer. With the both of them winning some sexy sweet to OhMiGod moments as they race around the world's most exotic locations.
Too Hot To Handle does not do this story justice! The afterglow and sweet smile on your face when you've read the end leaves you fulfilled and wanting to celebrate this loving couple's first anniversary with them. This white-hot author leaves you with the impression of the rules and the locations of "The Game" are about to be rocked again!
I hope we get to see Come and Get Me Again!!
Stephanie
Come and Get Me Berkley Heat
ISBN: 0425215946
Genre: Contemporary
Release date: June 2007
Length: Novel
Available at Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble
Sexual freedom ... exotic destinations ...
Who ever said you can't have a honeymoon before and after your wedding?
The thought of her impending marriage is giving Sadie panic attacks. Hives. Nightmares. She loves her fiancé, Dylan, but the concept of happily ever after is suffocating her. She isn't ready to face the future, and worse, the sex could be better.
Panicking, she packs her bags in the middle of the night, and dares her sexually repressed lover to come and get her.
Dylan will be damned if he’s going to lose Sadie so easily. Leaving behind his inhibitions, he pursues her, a sexually hungry and desperate man prepared to do anything to seduce his woman, once and for all.
And so the game begins ...
Excerpt:
Shit. What did Dylan think he was doing?
Sadie paused, her hand in mid-air. The dinner fork shook and the shrimp dangled from the utensil, ready to fall off. Her breath hitched as a bead of sweat threatened to roll from her forehead and ruin her perfect makeup.
She stared at the shrimp. What now?
Did she eat it? Drop it? Throw it across the fancy restaurant?
If her eyes grew any wider, they'd pop right out of her head and fall on her plate. What the hell was Dylan thinking?
He had dropped to one knee and now rested his hand on her thigh, entreating her full attention.
How she wanted to play dumb, to focus on her shrimp, anything besides Dylan.
Reaching in the breast pocket of his sport jacket, he revealed a small, black velvet box.
Oh. No.
Not here. Not now. Not in front of her parents.
Good grief! They'd barely been dating six months. It was too soon! Way too soon.
Hell, she'd just told him she loved him last month.
She wasn't ready for marriage!
Her gaze darted to her mother and father. Their tan, sun-wrinkled, ever-so-pleased gazes beamed at her. Of course they were happy. They'd been angling for a grandchild for two years now. Every guy she dated was a potential baby maker.
Sadie chalked it up to post maternal and paternal longing. The past fifteen years, they'd been so busy enjoying their millions from the Kansas state lottery, they hadn't the time for raising her.
Now, the money had become boring. Their focus had shifted to wanting a grandkid to spoil.
She'd never wished for a sister more.
God, of all the luck. Why did Dylan have to do this in front of them? He should know better. She had dinner with her parents once a week, and for the past two months, he'd escorted her to their restaurant of choice. By now, he was quite aware of the sticky situation she was in. The wily fox.
Dylan gave her a weak, lopsided smile that punctuated his damn adorable dimples. His dark, almost black eyes shone with love. Opening the box, he revealed a dazzling, downright huge, pink diamond. At least two carats.
"Marry me, Sadie?" he asked in a smooth, velvet voice, sounding sure of her answer.
A shiver coursed along her spine. In her mind, she imagined her backbone turning to Jello.
Dylan had never looked sexier. Bent on one knee in front of her, his hopeful eyes and seductive smile turned her into instant lovey-dovey mush. The no she wanted to scream lodged in her throat.
She couldn't do it. She couldn't turn him down.
Her gaze swept his length, wanting him, loving him, needing to say yes. But how could she? It was too soon!
She didn't know what to tell him. To do. Her heart and mind played a fierce game of tug-of-war.
He cleared his throat. His brows furrowed. His forehead creased. Worry etched the lines of his strongly-defined face, demanding some sort of answer.
She had to take some sort of action. Quick.
Bringing the shrimp to her mouth, she bit into the spicy meat. Again, Dylan cleared his throat.
She chewed quickly, cursing herself a hundred times. What a dumb move!
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Who would take a bite of food in the middle of a proposal? Only her. Now she had to finish eating the damn piece of seafood, all eyes on her.
Waiting. Hoping. Demanding.
She loved Dylan. She did. After all, she wouldn't have told him so if she hadn't meant it. He was everything she'd ever dreamt of in a husband. She wanted to become his wife.
But one day, in the future. Not now.
She didn't make a lot of plans in her life. Everything was pretty much easy come, easy go. But there was one thing Sadie had promised herself years ago. She would not marry before thirty.
While she wanted to settle down and have a family, she wanted to be ready.
Was she ready?
Her parents sure were.
"Sadie?" Dylan questioned, shifting with nervousness. "Will you marry me?"
"He's been waiting five minutes, sugar," her father pushed. "Give the boy a dang answer already."
"Yes." The response sputtered from her before she could stop herself. "But, I want a long engagement."
The moment she blurted the ill-thought words, she wanted to kick herself in the ass. Not the most romantic thing to say the moment after accepting a man's proposal.
Why did she keep sticking things in her mouth? First the shrimp, now her foot. What next?
"Of course." Dylan nodded stiffly, wriggling the band on. "As long as you want."
The diamond ring fit so tightly, Dylan had to work it into place. The whole time he twisted it down her finger, Sadie made reassuring promises to herself.
She loved him.
She needed him.
She loved him.
She could get married and give up her freedom at twenty-seven, instead of waiting until thirty, because she loved him.
Reviews:
"Come & Get Me by Alyssa Brooks is an erotic screwball comedy with heart. I laughed, I cried, I cheered, and I couldn't turn the pages fast enough to find out what happened next in Dylan and Sadie's madcap voyage of healing both engagement and themselves. Look out, world: Alyssa Brooks is on her way up!" - Diane Whiteside, www.dianewhiteside.com
4/5 Stars! "Ms. Brooks has penned some fascinating sex scenes that will leave you breathless, sweating and panting. The swoon worthy stuff is what I want when I pick up erotic romances to savor and the author delivers in spades, never stopping even for a minute." Mahaira Fatima, Just Erotic Romance Reviews
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Savior by Jade Falconer
Looking for a little m/m to spice up your reading selection? Have I got one smokin' story for you: Savior by Jade Falconer! A Terrific writer to say the least. This writer's story draw you in and keeps you entertained.
Make sure to check out what happens when a rock star and his newly hired bodyguard take more than a professional interest in each other.
Stephanie
Savior by Jade Falconer
Publisher: Phaze
ISBN 1-59426-746-4
A Phaze Force HeatSheet!
$2
Buy Book
Ricky has it all, and that's part of the problem. Countless personal assistants and managers organize his celebrity life for him, so that he barely needs to lift a finger. It's not until he hires Jim as a bodyguard that he realizes he can't pay everyone to kiss his ass.
Jim's quiet manner and integrity makes him a challenge. However, the more Ricky gets to know the no nonsense body guard, the more he realizes what's missing in his life. And when Ricky's life is in danger, sparks begin to fly.
Excerpt:
Ricky turned to face Jim and slid his arms around Jim's middle, pressing against him. "I don't care. As long as you're here. You saved my life," he said quietly, as if finally getting over the shock of the afternoon. He looked up into Jim's eyes. "Thank you."
He almost said something flip like, 'That's my job' or 'It's all part of the service' but the words died on his lips. "You're welcome," was what he settled for, and he gazed into Ricky's eyes. He was holding him like a lover now, and Ricky's body was compact and slender in his arms. He realized then that he'd wrapped his arms around Ricky without even knowing he'd done it, and they stood, twined together, in the middle of Ricky's plush bedroom. Jim felt his arousal begin again and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Ricky worried his lower lip between his teeth. "Jim," he whispered. He slid his hands up Jim's chest, over his shoulders. "You're so brave," he breathed, never breaking eye contact.
"No I'm not," Jim said automatically, but he was caught up in Ricky's chocolate brown gaze. He knew he should step back, disentangle himself, put some distance between them. But Ricky was frightened, and needed comfort. Jim wanted to give it to him. Ricky looked smaller this way, more delicate, and Jim's heart beat faster as he tried to keep his hips away from the other man.
"And so...Handsome," he whispered. Ricky leaned up on tiptoe and pressed his lips against Jim's, just lightly, barely a press of warm skin to warm skin.
Jim whimpered but didn't pull back. It was exactly what he wanted, what he'd been aching for.
He kissed back after a second, arms tightening around Ricky. He was suddenly fully aroused and he parted his lips. He wanted desperately to taste Ricky’s sweet mouth.
Ricky parted his lips, kissing back. He held onto Jim tightly, a low moan in his throat.
Jim didn't think, didn't hesitate. He parted Ricky's lips more with his tongue and claimed his mouth, the other man's moan spurring him on. He pulled Ricky's body against him, and felt his hardness against his thigh. It made him even harder, and he wanted Ricky to feel it now.
Make sure to check out what happens when a rock star and his newly hired bodyguard take more than a professional interest in each other.
Stephanie
Savior by Jade FalconerPublisher: Phaze
ISBN 1-59426-746-4
A Phaze Force HeatSheet!
$2
Buy Book
Ricky has it all, and that's part of the problem. Countless personal assistants and managers organize his celebrity life for him, so that he barely needs to lift a finger. It's not until he hires Jim as a bodyguard that he realizes he can't pay everyone to kiss his ass.
Jim's quiet manner and integrity makes him a challenge. However, the more Ricky gets to know the no nonsense body guard, the more he realizes what's missing in his life. And when Ricky's life is in danger, sparks begin to fly.
Excerpt:
Ricky turned to face Jim and slid his arms around Jim's middle, pressing against him. "I don't care. As long as you're here. You saved my life," he said quietly, as if finally getting over the shock of the afternoon. He looked up into Jim's eyes. "Thank you."
He almost said something flip like, 'That's my job' or 'It's all part of the service' but the words died on his lips. "You're welcome," was what he settled for, and he gazed into Ricky's eyes. He was holding him like a lover now, and Ricky's body was compact and slender in his arms. He realized then that he'd wrapped his arms around Ricky without even knowing he'd done it, and they stood, twined together, in the middle of Ricky's plush bedroom. Jim felt his arousal begin again and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Ricky worried his lower lip between his teeth. "Jim," he whispered. He slid his hands up Jim's chest, over his shoulders. "You're so brave," he breathed, never breaking eye contact.
"No I'm not," Jim said automatically, but he was caught up in Ricky's chocolate brown gaze. He knew he should step back, disentangle himself, put some distance between them. But Ricky was frightened, and needed comfort. Jim wanted to give it to him. Ricky looked smaller this way, more delicate, and Jim's heart beat faster as he tried to keep his hips away from the other man.
"And so...Handsome," he whispered. Ricky leaned up on tiptoe and pressed his lips against Jim's, just lightly, barely a press of warm skin to warm skin.
Jim whimpered but didn't pull back. It was exactly what he wanted, what he'd been aching for.
He kissed back after a second, arms tightening around Ricky. He was suddenly fully aroused and he parted his lips. He wanted desperately to taste Ricky’s sweet mouth.
Ricky parted his lips, kissing back. He held onto Jim tightly, a low moan in his throat.
Jim didn't think, didn't hesitate. He parted Ricky's lips more with his tongue and claimed his mouth, the other man's moan spurring him on. He pulled Ricky's body against him, and felt his hardness against his thigh. It made him even harder, and he wanted Ricky to feel it now.
Review:
Survivor is one hot male/male read! Jade Falconer sets the pages on fire with this scorcher. I enjoyed reading it from page one. I warn you if your not use to reading male/male then this story is not for you. — Sensual Reads and Reviews
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
The Assignment by Evangeline Anderson
This was one of the first e-books I ever read. It's what dragged me into the world of electronic books and made me think that I too could actually become published writing M/M books. Needless to say, I really enjoy Ms. Anderson's style of writing and the stories of hers that I've read are intriguing and keeps my attention the entire time. She's a great storyteller :)
Marty
The Assignment
by Evangeline Anderson
Publisher: Loose-Id
ISBN: 978-1-59632-225-7
$5.99
Genre: Contemporary, Gay, BDSM
BUY BOOK
Detective Nicholas Valenti, tall, dark and stoic, has been best friends with his partner, Sean O’Brian for six years. The two men have seen each other through divorce, disaster and danger and saved each other’s asses more times than Valenti can count. Exactly when he started seeing his blond, intense partner in another light, Valenti isn’t really sure. He only knows that he wants O’Brian in a way that had nothing to do with friendship and everything to do with possession. It is a desire he will have to hide forever because O’Brian is undeniably straight.
Just as Valenti is coming to grips with his new, unacceptable feelings for his partner their police Captain puts them on a new case that could blow Valenti’s cover once and for all. He and O’Brian are going undercover at the country’s largest and most infamous gay resort to bust a notorious drug lord and stop the shipments of poison cocaine that are flooding the gay bars all over the city.
Now Valenti will have to make a choice between friendship and desire. He and O’Brian will play the roles of gay men that will push the limits of their relationship to the breaking point. Will their time at the RamJack forge a new bond between them or destroy their partnership forever?
Excerpt from Loose-Id:
Early 1980s
“This is gonna take some getting used to.” Detective Sean O'Brian plopped down on the huge, four-poster, king-sized bed and slid one hand up the elaborately carved post nearest him thoughtfully. “Lap of luxury,” he muttered.
“What, sleeping in the same bed, or being my ‘boy'?” Detective Nicholas Valenti, O'Brian's partner of six years, grinned at the smaller man while he stowed his folded clothes in the carved oak dresser that matched the bed. O'Brian was done with that chore, having shoveled his own clothes into the two drawers above Valenti's the minute they walked into the room.
Usually O'Brian was the neatnik, while Valenti tended to let things go, but the tall man felt the need to have something to do with his hands. As for O'Brian's hasty unpacking job -- well, Valenti reflected, it wasn't the first thing his partner had done out of character lately -- not by a long shot. The fact that they were unpacking their bags at the RamJack was ample proof of that.
“Both,” O'Brian said succinctly. “But I still don't understand why I have to be your boy. Why can't I be the sugar-daddy, huh? I'm butch enough.”
Valenti sighed. Not this again. He was beginning to think that O'Brian was whining about their arrangement just to get to him. A small smile playing around the corners of his partner's full mouth told him his guess was probably correct.
“We agreed that you would be the boy because you're so little and cute and furry -- like a blond teddy bear, remember?” He looked over his shoulder and grinned at O'Brian, who had flopped onto his back, the better to enjoy the plush mattress.
Valenti knew his partner hated to be teased about his blond good looks and compact stature. O'Brian wasn't exactly short at five-nine, but he wasn't exactly tall, either, especially compared with Valenti's six-two. “Also, because you're better at shaking your ass,” Valenti added.
“You got that right.” O'Brian grinned back, refusing to rise to the bait. The grin reaching all the way up to his sea-green eyes, fringed thickly with reddish-blond lashes. “Yeah, I know I'm cute, and I'll play your boy. Just don't expect me to suck your dick, all right?”
“I think I can safely promise it won't come to that,” Valenti answered dryly. But his partner's words caused something low in his body to tense. “After all,” he continued, trying to put O'Brian's careless words out of his mind as he shoved the rest of his socks in the drawer,
“Captain Harris told us to go undercover -- not under the covers .”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Remind me again how we got such a plum assignment,” O'Brian grumbled. He rolled over on the bed so that he lay on his stomach and looked at his partner in the mirror over the dresser. “Oh, yeah -- 'cause none of the Narc detectives that should be doin' this job are comfortable enough together to play ‘gay.' But apparently we are.”
“You have to admit, O'Brian, we don't freak out if we accidentally touch each other, like a lot of guys do.” Valenti caught himself noticing in the mirror how tightly his partner's jeans were stretched over his firm ass and had to look down quickly at the drawer he was filling so methodically.
“That's 'cause we're so studly, we don't have to worry. We're secure in our masculinity, corazón. Muy macho ,” O'Brian answered contentedly. It was a joke between them that the Irish O'Brian knew more Spanish than his partner. Valenti couldn't speak a word despite the fact that he looked every inch of his Colombian heritage, with his black hair, brown eyes, and natural tan. He was actually more WASP than Latino in temperament and background.
“Yeah, we're a regular couple of studs, all right,” Valenti answered distractedly, still unpacking. “Wish you wouldn't call me that, Sean.”
O'Brian had always had a penchant for crazy nicknames, and he had picked up the affectionate Spanish corazón , which meant “heart,” from Valenti's grandmother on a trip back east to visit his best friend's family a few years before.
Abuelita was the only member of Valenti's family to retain her ethnicity in the move his parents had made from the south side of the Bronx to the Hamptons when Valenti's father had made it big. Valenti had only been three at the time, and his upwardly mobile father had insisted that nothing but English would ever be spoken in his new home.
So aside from a few standard phrases and his grandmother's pet name for him, Valenti didn't speak a word of Spanish. O'Brian, who had no formal training but a natural ear for languages, did.
“What, corazón? You know you love it, Valenti. Besides, what are you afraid of -- that people are gonna get the wrong idea about us? In this place, it'd be the right idea, ya know?” O'Brian laughed, a musical tenor that always fooled people into thinking he had a beautiful singing voice. Valenti knew the truth about that -- his partner might have an ear for languages, but he was completely tone-deaf when it came to music. O'Brian couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.
“I should never have let you know I hated that nickname,” Valenti grumbled, still trying not to look in the mirror. Honestly, he didn't see how the hell O'Brian's jeans stayed on at all. He wore them so tight over his round, firm ass, they always seemed in imminent danger of spontaneous combustion -- the way Valenti felt any time he was around his partner lately. Since he and O'Brian were almost always around each other, it was creating something of a problem for him.
“Make ya a deal: I promise not to call you by your abuelita's nickname for you, if you'll just hurry the hell up with the unpacking. I wanna go check this place out -- it's s'posed to be really ritzy.” O'Brian sat up suddenly on the bed.
“Almost done. Can't wait to get out there and shake your groove thang, huh, partner?” Valenti answered, trying to get back to their normal banter. He risked a look in the mirror and saw his own worried eyes looking back.
“You know it babe -- I'm hot.” O'Brian jumped off the bed and did a few impromptu dance steps to prove it, shaking his round ass for the benefit of Valenti and thousands of adoring invisible fans.
Valenti shook his head in mock exasperation. This was the first really big case they'd been assigned since O'Brian's near-fatal stabbing over six months ago, and his partner was a ball of nervous energy.
“Get outta here,” he growled, slapping O'Brian on the back with a folded undershirt. “Go explore on your own for a while and leave me to finish unpacking in peace. Just try to stay out of trouble, and I'll meet you later.”
“You sure you wanna risk some other daddy bear grabbin' my tender virgin ass when you're not there to protect me?” O'Brian grinned and batted surprisingly long eyelashes. He stripped off his leather jacket, revealing the familiar furry chest underneath a skin-tight white T-shirt.
Twonnie, their consultant about all things gay, had tried his best to convince O'Brian to wax, arguing that gay men in general and boy toys in particular didn't go for that much body hair. But O'Brian had adamantly refused. Secretly, Valenti was glad about that -- his partner wouldn't have been the same without the mat of wiry, reddish-gold hair that decorated his well-defined chest.
Still posing for his fans, O'Brian preened for the mirror. “I'm a hot little twinkie.” The skin-tight jeans clung lovingly to his plush ass and outlined his heavy cock, which bulged suggestively through the worn material.
Valenti groaned and rolled his eyes in mock disgust, although he privately agreed with his partner's assessment of his own body. “Would you get outta here?” He shook his head sarcastically. “You're driving me nuts with your blatant sexuality.” In fact, he was more than half hard from watching his partner move so provocatively, but he kept up their usual casual banter, hoping O'Brian wouldn't notice. There was no reason for his partner to be looking at his crotch anyway. O'Brian didn't swing that way, no matter what Valenti had been wishing lately.
“I'm goin' already.” O'Brian threw one last grin over his shoulder as he sashayed to the door of their suite in that hip-rolling, ass-shaking swagger he had perfected for this assignment. “But you're gonna miss me when I'm gone.”
“Yeah, I'll miss you like a bad rash,” Valenti said lamely and made as if to throw a pair of rolled-up socks at his partner's head. Pretending to duck, O'Brian scooted out the door quickly, only to open it a second later, poking his head through the crack to say, “See ya later -- daddy .” The socks hit the door as he banged it shut with a flourish, and Valenti could hear him laughing all the way down the hall of the luxurious resort.
Marty
The Assignment
by Evangeline Anderson
Publisher: Loose-Id
ISBN: 978-1-59632-225-7
$5.99
Genre: Contemporary, Gay, BDSM
BUY BOOK
Detective Nicholas Valenti, tall, dark and stoic, has been best friends with his partner, Sean O’Brian for six years. The two men have seen each other through divorce, disaster and danger and saved each other’s asses more times than Valenti can count. Exactly when he started seeing his blond, intense partner in another light, Valenti isn’t really sure. He only knows that he wants O’Brian in a way that had nothing to do with friendship and everything to do with possession. It is a desire he will have to hide forever because O’Brian is undeniably straight.
Just as Valenti is coming to grips with his new, unacceptable feelings for his partner their police Captain puts them on a new case that could blow Valenti’s cover once and for all. He and O’Brian are going undercover at the country’s largest and most infamous gay resort to bust a notorious drug lord and stop the shipments of poison cocaine that are flooding the gay bars all over the city.
Now Valenti will have to make a choice between friendship and desire. He and O’Brian will play the roles of gay men that will push the limits of their relationship to the breaking point. Will their time at the RamJack forge a new bond between them or destroy their partnership forever?
Excerpt from Loose-Id:
Early 1980s
“This is gonna take some getting used to.” Detective Sean O'Brian plopped down on the huge, four-poster, king-sized bed and slid one hand up the elaborately carved post nearest him thoughtfully. “Lap of luxury,” he muttered.
“What, sleeping in the same bed, or being my ‘boy'?” Detective Nicholas Valenti, O'Brian's partner of six years, grinned at the smaller man while he stowed his folded clothes in the carved oak dresser that matched the bed. O'Brian was done with that chore, having shoveled his own clothes into the two drawers above Valenti's the minute they walked into the room.
Usually O'Brian was the neatnik, while Valenti tended to let things go, but the tall man felt the need to have something to do with his hands. As for O'Brian's hasty unpacking job -- well, Valenti reflected, it wasn't the first thing his partner had done out of character lately -- not by a long shot. The fact that they were unpacking their bags at the RamJack was ample proof of that.
“Both,” O'Brian said succinctly. “But I still don't understand why I have to be your boy. Why can't I be the sugar-daddy, huh? I'm butch enough.”
Valenti sighed. Not this again. He was beginning to think that O'Brian was whining about their arrangement just to get to him. A small smile playing around the corners of his partner's full mouth told him his guess was probably correct.
“We agreed that you would be the boy because you're so little and cute and furry -- like a blond teddy bear, remember?” He looked over his shoulder and grinned at O'Brian, who had flopped onto his back, the better to enjoy the plush mattress.
Valenti knew his partner hated to be teased about his blond good looks and compact stature. O'Brian wasn't exactly short at five-nine, but he wasn't exactly tall, either, especially compared with Valenti's six-two. “Also, because you're better at shaking your ass,” Valenti added.
“You got that right.” O'Brian grinned back, refusing to rise to the bait. The grin reaching all the way up to his sea-green eyes, fringed thickly with reddish-blond lashes. “Yeah, I know I'm cute, and I'll play your boy. Just don't expect me to suck your dick, all right?”
“I think I can safely promise it won't come to that,” Valenti answered dryly. But his partner's words caused something low in his body to tense. “After all,” he continued, trying to put O'Brian's careless words out of his mind as he shoved the rest of his socks in the drawer,
“Captain Harris told us to go undercover -- not under the covers .”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Remind me again how we got such a plum assignment,” O'Brian grumbled. He rolled over on the bed so that he lay on his stomach and looked at his partner in the mirror over the dresser. “Oh, yeah -- 'cause none of the Narc detectives that should be doin' this job are comfortable enough together to play ‘gay.' But apparently we are.”
“You have to admit, O'Brian, we don't freak out if we accidentally touch each other, like a lot of guys do.” Valenti caught himself noticing in the mirror how tightly his partner's jeans were stretched over his firm ass and had to look down quickly at the drawer he was filling so methodically.
“That's 'cause we're so studly, we don't have to worry. We're secure in our masculinity, corazón. Muy macho ,” O'Brian answered contentedly. It was a joke between them that the Irish O'Brian knew more Spanish than his partner. Valenti couldn't speak a word despite the fact that he looked every inch of his Colombian heritage, with his black hair, brown eyes, and natural tan. He was actually more WASP than Latino in temperament and background.
“Yeah, we're a regular couple of studs, all right,” Valenti answered distractedly, still unpacking. “Wish you wouldn't call me that, Sean.”
O'Brian had always had a penchant for crazy nicknames, and he had picked up the affectionate Spanish corazón , which meant “heart,” from Valenti's grandmother on a trip back east to visit his best friend's family a few years before.
Abuelita was the only member of Valenti's family to retain her ethnicity in the move his parents had made from the south side of the Bronx to the Hamptons when Valenti's father had made it big. Valenti had only been three at the time, and his upwardly mobile father had insisted that nothing but English would ever be spoken in his new home.
So aside from a few standard phrases and his grandmother's pet name for him, Valenti didn't speak a word of Spanish. O'Brian, who had no formal training but a natural ear for languages, did.
“What, corazón? You know you love it, Valenti. Besides, what are you afraid of -- that people are gonna get the wrong idea about us? In this place, it'd be the right idea, ya know?” O'Brian laughed, a musical tenor that always fooled people into thinking he had a beautiful singing voice. Valenti knew the truth about that -- his partner might have an ear for languages, but he was completely tone-deaf when it came to music. O'Brian couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.
“I should never have let you know I hated that nickname,” Valenti grumbled, still trying not to look in the mirror. Honestly, he didn't see how the hell O'Brian's jeans stayed on at all. He wore them so tight over his round, firm ass, they always seemed in imminent danger of spontaneous combustion -- the way Valenti felt any time he was around his partner lately. Since he and O'Brian were almost always around each other, it was creating something of a problem for him.
“Make ya a deal: I promise not to call you by your abuelita's nickname for you, if you'll just hurry the hell up with the unpacking. I wanna go check this place out -- it's s'posed to be really ritzy.” O'Brian sat up suddenly on the bed.
“Almost done. Can't wait to get out there and shake your groove thang, huh, partner?” Valenti answered, trying to get back to their normal banter. He risked a look in the mirror and saw his own worried eyes looking back.
“You know it babe -- I'm hot.” O'Brian jumped off the bed and did a few impromptu dance steps to prove it, shaking his round ass for the benefit of Valenti and thousands of adoring invisible fans.
Valenti shook his head in mock exasperation. This was the first really big case they'd been assigned since O'Brian's near-fatal stabbing over six months ago, and his partner was a ball of nervous energy.
“Get outta here,” he growled, slapping O'Brian on the back with a folded undershirt. “Go explore on your own for a while and leave me to finish unpacking in peace. Just try to stay out of trouble, and I'll meet you later.”
“You sure you wanna risk some other daddy bear grabbin' my tender virgin ass when you're not there to protect me?” O'Brian grinned and batted surprisingly long eyelashes. He stripped off his leather jacket, revealing the familiar furry chest underneath a skin-tight white T-shirt.
Twonnie, their consultant about all things gay, had tried his best to convince O'Brian to wax, arguing that gay men in general and boy toys in particular didn't go for that much body hair. But O'Brian had adamantly refused. Secretly, Valenti was glad about that -- his partner wouldn't have been the same without the mat of wiry, reddish-gold hair that decorated his well-defined chest.
Still posing for his fans, O'Brian preened for the mirror. “I'm a hot little twinkie.” The skin-tight jeans clung lovingly to his plush ass and outlined his heavy cock, which bulged suggestively through the worn material.
Valenti groaned and rolled his eyes in mock disgust, although he privately agreed with his partner's assessment of his own body. “Would you get outta here?” He shook his head sarcastically. “You're driving me nuts with your blatant sexuality.” In fact, he was more than half hard from watching his partner move so provocatively, but he kept up their usual casual banter, hoping O'Brian wouldn't notice. There was no reason for his partner to be looking at his crotch anyway. O'Brian didn't swing that way, no matter what Valenti had been wishing lately.
“I'm goin' already.” O'Brian threw one last grin over his shoulder as he sashayed to the door of their suite in that hip-rolling, ass-shaking swagger he had perfected for this assignment. “But you're gonna miss me when I'm gone.”
“Yeah, I'll miss you like a bad rash,” Valenti said lamely and made as if to throw a pair of rolled-up socks at his partner's head. Pretending to duck, O'Brian scooted out the door quickly, only to open it a second later, poking his head through the crack to say, “See ya later -- daddy .” The socks hit the door as he banged it shut with a flourish, and Valenti could hear him laughing all the way down the hall of the luxurious resort.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Bonded Hearts by Marty Rayne
The day has finally arrived! The first book to my Dragon Riders series is released today. I'm so excited! Take a look....
Marty
Dragon Riders 1 : Bonded Hearts
by Marty Rayne
Publisher: Loose-Id
Artist: Christine M. Griffin
ISBN: 978-1-59632-580-7
e-book: $4.99
Genre: Fantasy, M/M/F menage
When Detective Nick Montgomery finally catches up to the serial killer plaguing Miami, he finds himself in a kind of trouble he never expected: caught up in the killer's magic. The killer's spell transports him to Ketall, an alternate world of a primitive nature, home of dragons.
Jax, a red-eyed dragon, doesn't exactly like him -- or the idea of having to share her Rider, Kel, with anyone, especially not Nick. Kel's young, possessive, and spoiled. At least that's what Kel tells her. So why is she starting to be attracted to this off-worlder who interrupts their life? Why does he set her blood boiling with desire every time they are near? And why can't she kill him to rid her of the annoyance?
Kel, her Rider, has been drawn to the stranger he saved from death from the beginning; more so when he realizes that Nick is also fated to bond with his dragon, Jax. Never has a dragon had two bondmates at one time, and the prospect astounds -- and arouses -- him.
Then an evil sorcerer and his witch complicate matters by trying to send Nick back to his own world. If they succeed, it will destroy Ketall. And kill both Jax and Kel.
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Ménage (m/m/f), homoerotic sexual practices, violence.
Excerpt:
Awareness came slow to Nick. The floor beneath him was leisurely rocking, almost lulling him back into the abyss of unconsciousness until it jostled none too gently. The movement slammed the air from his lungs. Just when his breath came back to him, the ground jumped from beneath him again.
Nick groaned with pain and forced his eyes to open. He tried to lift to his hands and knees, keeping his balance with the sway, but his right leg refused to hold his weight so he tumbled back down while his right arm screamed in protest as he landed hard on it.
“Fuck,” he spat.
The rattle of chains drew Nick’s attention to his surroundings for the first time. His eyes finally focused on the wood floor. The sun heated his skin, birds chirping reached his ears, and a horse neighing let him know he was outside without having to look around.
His thoughts were foggy. What was the last thing he remembered?
He was chasing a killer. Amos Bronson. And blood. Lots of blood everywhere. There was a light, its brightness and heat burning him, followed by cool darkness. What had happened? How had he gotten outside? And hadn’t it been nighttime?
“He’s awake,” a sharp voice dragged Nick from his cloudy memories.
There were six sets of eyes staring at him. All were men of varying ages, their appearance unkempt. They were streaked with dirt and were clad only in pants that tied at the waist. The only other items adorning them were the thick manacles on their wrists that dangled with a chain connected to the floor.
Prisoners? What was he doing with prisoners? But they weren’t dressed in the normal inmate attire. Nick’s confusion deepened.
“Where the…?” Nick attempted to sit up again, this time being more careful of his leg and arm.
Nick was in some sort of cage. Crudely created. The top and bottom made of thick wood and the bars surrounding them made of solid black iron. The swaying and jostling was the result of it being pulled behind a single horse. The wheels kicked up dust from the dirt road.
Like the others, thick iron manacles adorned his own wrists locking him to the floor. Even if one weren’t chained, there would be no way a man of average height could stand in it. Even at his five foot eleven inches, Nick wouldn’t be able to kneel without having to slump down.
“Who are you? Where am I?” His throat was dry and scratchy. He felt hot and chilled at the same time. Sweat dripped from his forehead, yet he shivered. “How did I get here?”
“Found you on the side of the road. The Master thought he’d get some coin for you before you died,” a red-haired man sneered at him.
Nick shook his head. The Master? Coin before he died? What was with the cage? This dirt road? Where the hell was he? Certainly not in Miami. Instead of tall buildings, busy streets, and palm trees, there were thick clumps of trees along one side of the road and open fields on the other.
Definitely not Miami.
He closed his eyes, nothing making sense. Nick ignored the sharp pain in his leg and the way the fabric of his jeans stuck to the wound.
“I don’t…” His words were clipped by the pop of a whip. The six men flinched and cowered as far as their chains would allow.
“No talking, slaves.” A harsh, deep voice boomed from Nick’s left. Turning, he was met with near black eyes. They belonged to a large built man dressed straight out of a medieval festival. His pants were dark brown, resembling leather. His shirt, probably originally white in color, now coated with sweat and the dirt from the road, was tight around his bulky build. He had several leather bands around his wrists and leather boots adorning his feet. The most menacing part of him was the long bullwhip he held in his hand.
Nope, Toto. He definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
Nick groaned with pain and forced his eyes to open. He tried to lift to his hands and knees, keeping his balance with the sway, but his right leg refused to hold his weight so he tumbled back down while his right arm screamed in protest as he landed hard on it.
“Fuck,” he spat.
The rattle of chains drew Nick’s attention to his surroundings for the first time. His eyes finally focused on the wood floor. The sun heated his skin, birds chirping reached his ears, and a horse neighing let him know he was outside without having to look around.
His thoughts were foggy. What was the last thing he remembered?
He was chasing a killer. Amos Bronson. And blood. Lots of blood everywhere. There was a light, its brightness and heat burning him, followed by cool darkness. What had happened? How had he gotten outside? And hadn’t it been nighttime?
“He’s awake,” a sharp voice dragged Nick from his cloudy memories.
There were six sets of eyes staring at him. All were men of varying ages, their appearance unkempt. They were streaked with dirt and were clad only in pants that tied at the waist. The only other items adorning them were the thick manacles on their wrists that dangled with a chain connected to the floor.
Prisoners? What was he doing with prisoners? But they weren’t dressed in the normal inmate attire. Nick’s confusion deepened.
“Where the…?” Nick attempted to sit up again, this time being more careful of his leg and arm.
Nick was in some sort of cage. Crudely created. The top and bottom made of thick wood and the bars surrounding them made of solid black iron. The swaying and jostling was the result of it being pulled behind a single horse. The wheels kicked up dust from the dirt road.
Like the others, thick iron manacles adorned his own wrists locking him to the floor. Even if one weren’t chained, there would be no way a man of average height could stand in it. Even at his five foot eleven inches, Nick wouldn’t be able to kneel without having to slump down.
“Who are you? Where am I?” His throat was dry and scratchy. He felt hot and chilled at the same time. Sweat dripped from his forehead, yet he shivered. “How did I get here?”
“Found you on the side of the road. The Master thought he’d get some coin for you before you died,” a red-haired man sneered at him.
Nick shook his head. The Master? Coin before he died? What was with the cage? This dirt road? Where the hell was he? Certainly not in Miami. Instead of tall buildings, busy streets, and palm trees, there were thick clumps of trees along one side of the road and open fields on the other.
Definitely not Miami.
He closed his eyes, nothing making sense. Nick ignored the sharp pain in his leg and the way the fabric of his jeans stuck to the wound.
“I don’t…” His words were clipped by the pop of a whip. The six men flinched and cowered as far as their chains would allow.
“No talking, slaves.” A harsh, deep voice boomed from Nick’s left. Turning, he was met with near black eyes. They belonged to a large built man dressed straight out of a medieval festival. His pants were dark brown, resembling leather. His shirt, probably originally white in color, now coated with sweat and the dirt from the road, was tight around his bulky build. He had several leather bands around his wrists and leather boots adorning his feet. The most menacing part of him was the long bullwhip he held in his hand.
Nope, Toto. He definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
To find out more about Marty Rayne and her books, visit her website and blog.
Website - http://www.martyrayne.com/
Monday, December 3, 2007
Going Topless by Renee Knowles
Going Topless By Renee Knowles
What does predictable Susannah Carmack do when confronted with her late husband's infidelity? What any self-respecting widow might. She allows her sister, Chelsie, to drag her on vacation to Amsterdam, where she gets lost in the Red Light District, is pursued by a younger man, and sunbathes on a topless beach. But will going topless help her escape the pain of the past?
Chelsie Joyner has always believed a roll in the hay can cure what ails her. But her free lifestyle never helped her forget Martijn, a married professor with whom she had an affair five years ago while doing graduate work in Amsterdam. She's determined to find closure on this trip.
But when her adulterous affair is made known, can Susannah, still smarting from her husband's betrayal, forgive Chelsie for the ultimate sin?
Sensuality Rating: SIZZLING
Genre: Erotic Chick Lit/Women's Fiction
Length: Full Novel (62,000 words)
EXCERPT:
27 Ways to Lure the Perfect Man
1. Always wear sexy underwear. A black lace demi bra, a red satin peek-a-boo thong, lace-topped fishnet stockings. When you dress sexy on the inside, you feel sexy on the outside, and that can go a long way in catching the attention of Mr. Right.
. . .
11. Never initiate sex. Always let the man feel like he is the one in control. Men enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Don’t make it too easy for him.
When she could finally talk, “Wow” was all that came out of her mouth. Okay, it wasn’t brilliant, but Hagen didn’t seem to care.
“Get up, Susannah.” He took her hand and helped her rise.
“I want all of you this time,” she breathed.
Susannah ran her hand along his cock, reveling in his hardness. It felt like he might split the front of his jeans. She popped the button fly and pushed his jeans and underwear down.
He hissed when she wrapped her fingers around his length. His flesh was silky, and she couldn’t resist massaging it.
But he stilled her hand. “Okay, Liebling, you’d better stop or I’ll explode.” He kissed her and she could taste herself on him. It turned her on even more.
“Do you have something?” She wasn’t sure he would understand, but he ran quickly to the bedroom and came back with a condom.
She rolled it down his cock, massaging it as she went. His eyes closed and he moaned.
When she was done, he commanded, “Turn around.”
She did, and he gently pushed her forward so her hands were on the table and her back was facing him.
He grasped her around her waist and slid in her from behind. Susannah gasped. Hagen’s thrusts were slow and gentle at first, but his pace became quicker and more insistent.
“Oh, Gott,” he moaned.
He tightened his arm at her waist as he pushed in and out. The friction built in her once again, as his free hand reached up to rub her nipple. Her body shook, the orgasm rocking her.
. . .
Chelsie’s hands trembled violently. She put them into her jean’s pockets to stop the shaking.
What had she done? “What am I talking about? N-nothing. I didn’t mean—”
Susannah’s breath grew ragged. “You were involved with a married man?” Her voice shuddered.
“I…” Chelsie stopped, terror clawing in her chest. I, what? She couldn’t lie anymore. She drew a deep breath. “Yes, Susannah. I was.”
“When? Who?” Susannah stopped, her eyes narrowing until they looked like small slits.
“Stephen?”
“No! Are you insane?” This was worse than she’d thought. “You think I could do that?”
“How am I supposed to know what to think? Who then?”
“The man I was involved with who lives here in Amsterdam. The man I told you about the other day.”
“You had the affair when you went to school here?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know he was married?”
Resignation overcame Chelsie. It was time to explain the whole thing. “Yes. I knew everything.”
She shook her head and said a silent plea to the heavens that her sister would understand. “It was an unhappy marriage. And the truth is, I took advantage of the situation. He’d made it obvious he was attracted to me. And I wanted him. So I seduced him.”
The light had started to fade, making Susannah’s stunned face appear distorted like a freak-show clown.
Her sister sank against a lamppost and ran a hand threw her hair. She suddenly looked all of her thirty-nine years. “What were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I was young. I thought I was in love.”
“So did his wife.”
“Suz, I know now how wrong it was. But at the time, I was mesmerized by Martijn. He was a professor, and so much older than me and extremely interesting. He’d traveled the globe. I thought he was smarter, more exciting than any other man I’d ever known. And his wife, well, he said she was cold. She wasn’t able to keep him satisfied—”
Susannah jumped up. “Don’t even try to rationalize this to me. Besides, you’re not stupid, Chels.
The ‘martyr syndrome’ has been done a million times. It won’t cut it. Poor married man. Has to put up with his hag of wife. And the stupid bitch doesn’t even know how to give a good blowjob.
Oh! How he’s suffered.”
“Please listen! It wasn’t like that!”
“Then what was it like? Did he say the wife nagged him all the time? Did she make him do horrendous things like put out the trash and rinse his dishes? Until finally, one day, a sexy slut, twenty years younger comes by. She has perky breasts, a slim waist, and doesn’t hassle him about everything. And she’s willing to have sex three times a day if he wants it. She’s the one bright spot in his otherwise horrific existence.” Susannah threw her hands into the air as if she was a preacher delivering a Sunday sermon. “Halleluiah, he’s saved!”
Chelsie’s shoulders shook. Hell, her whole body shook. All she’d been able to hear was the word slut. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Her sister despised her. She despised herself. “One mistake doesn’t make me a slut.” Her voice cracked.
Susannah ran her eyes over Chelsie, disgust lining her face. “Was he really the only one?”
Cold slithered down Chelsie’s spine at her sister’s callous words. The past had finally caught up with her. And there was a devil of a price to pay.
. . .
21. Don’t think of sex as a cure-all. Using sex to solve relationship problems is bound to disappoint you. It only provides a temporary balm. That said, there is no hotter sex on the planet than...
. . .
21. Don’t think of sex as a cure-all. Using sex to solve relationship problems is bound to disappoint you. It only provides a temporary balm. That said, there is no hotter sex on the planet than...
REVIEWS for Going Topless
"Going Topless is beautifully written, erotic, and, best of all—fun! I loved following these characters on their European journey learning about love and, most importantly, themselves. This is a great read." —Theresa Alan, national bestselling author
"A sexy, fun read! Renee Knowles crafts a fabulous story with fun characters and an enjoyable plot. Going Topless is thoroughly entertaining and steamy!" —M.A. duBarry, award winning author
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Suni's Gift by Anne Rainey
Working with Anne was a delight! She was ready and roarin' to go as soon as we were assigned to each other. She's written a Terrific story about a loving husband wanting to make his wife's wildest fantasy come true. Who could ask for a more perfect holiday gift!
But also, Anne did some really fabulous research into Ross's job as a firefighter. She lets you see and feel the tragedy these people have to work with everyday but most especially when something awful like this happens over a holiday. Ross wants to show Suni how much he loves and appreciates all that she does for him by putting aside his possessiveness of his wife for one night is a beautiful gift of love. That's not to say he too gets his own sense of satisfaction out of this experience as well ;) Anne is a Great writer and I see a bright future ahead for her! Make sure to check out her site at http://www.annerainey.com/
Stephanie
Suni's Gift by Anne Rainey
He bolted upright in bed, the covers twisted around his feet. After a few seconds of trying to make sense of where he was and how he'd gotten there, Ross remembered Suni putting him to bed. Normal people dreamed odd bits and pieces of their ordinary lives. Ross's dream world consisted of burning bodies and screams of pain and horror. Fictitious victims who died because he was either too slow or too late. It was the same every time he closed his eyes. He wondered if he'd ever have a peaceful night's sleep.
But also, Anne did some really fabulous research into Ross's job as a firefighter. She lets you see and feel the tragedy these people have to work with everyday but most especially when something awful like this happens over a holiday. Ross wants to show Suni how much he loves and appreciates all that she does for him by putting aside his possessiveness of his wife for one night is a beautiful gift of love. That's not to say he too gets his own sense of satisfaction out of this experience as well ;) Anne is a Great writer and I see a bright future ahead for her! Make sure to check out her site at http://www.annerainey.com/
Stephanie
Suni's Gift by Anne Rainey $2
High School English Teacher, Suni Buchanan married the man of her dreams and has a job she loves. As a firefighter, Ross sees his fair share of heartache and performs heroic acts every day. So, why does she fantasize about being with two men? It's wicked and selfish of her to even consider something so scandalous. But then Ross shocks her when he announces that he's read her journal and knows her secret desire. He goes one further when he surprises her with a special present for Christmas. A threesome that includes their mutual friend, Alex Boggs.
But will the passion-filled night change their marriage for better or worse?
But will the passion-filled night change their marriage for better or worse?
excerpt:
He bolted upright in bed, the covers twisted around his feet. After a few seconds of trying to make sense of where he was and how he'd gotten there, Ross remembered Suni putting him to bed. Normal people dreamed odd bits and pieces of their ordinary lives. Ross's dream world consisted of burning bodies and screams of pain and horror. Fictitious victims who died because he was either too slow or too late. It was the same every time he closed his eyes. He wondered if he'd ever have a peaceful night's sleep.
He flung the covers to the side and sat up. It wasn't until his feet hit the floor that he became aware he was on the wrong side of the bed. He'd somehow managed to roll to Suni's side. He rubbed his eyes and dragged his fingers through his hair. Slowly, his senses came alive. He could smell Suni's cooking. The room was dark, so he knew he must have slept the day away again.
As he moved to stand up, a paper crunched beneath his feet. He bent and picked up Suni's journal. He started to lay it on her nightstand when the word 'threesome' popped off the page. Intrigued, he sat back down and read her handwriting.
I know I should be happy. After all, I'm married to the man of my dreams. The high school I'm teaching at now is perfect for me and the kids are great. I've been blessed with a lovely home, and we've even talked about having children of our own. Ross would make a terrific father.
Still, there's just something missing. I want him to know, but I feel so ashamed. I'm afraid he'll think less of me if he knew about my fantasies. Dreams of being sexually dominated by Ross. Of having him and another man at the same time. The very thought of a threesome makes me wet and edgy. But if just writing it down has my face burning in mortification, how could I ever tell Ross? I can't imagine actually forming the words. I know he'd think I've lost my mind.
Ross gulped and nearly swallowed his tongue. How the hell could he not know that his wife was unhappy? There should have been signs, right? Even as he tried to absorb what he'd just learned, images ran through his head like an x-rated movie.
As he moved to stand up, a paper crunched beneath his feet. He bent and picked up Suni's journal. He started to lay it on her nightstand when the word 'threesome' popped off the page. Intrigued, he sat back down and read her handwriting.
I know I should be happy. After all, I'm married to the man of my dreams. The high school I'm teaching at now is perfect for me and the kids are great. I've been blessed with a lovely home, and we've even talked about having children of our own. Ross would make a terrific father.
Still, there's just something missing. I want him to know, but I feel so ashamed. I'm afraid he'll think less of me if he knew about my fantasies. Dreams of being sexually dominated by Ross. Of having him and another man at the same time. The very thought of a threesome makes me wet and edgy. But if just writing it down has my face burning in mortification, how could I ever tell Ross? I can't imagine actually forming the words. I know he'd think I've lost my mind.
Ross gulped and nearly swallowed his tongue. How the hell could he not know that his wife was unhappy? There should have been signs, right? Even as he tried to absorb what he'd just learned, images ran through his head like an x-rated movie.
He pictured Suni tied to the bed and him pounding into her. Dominating her like she'd described. Suni on her hands and knees, being fucked by himself and some other faceless man. Both of them driving into her pussy and ass. She wanted this? His sweet, mild wife, wanted a threesome? Jesus, just thinking about it had him hard as iron. And pissed. How could she even think of another man? Then a little voice mocked him for a hypocrite, because he'd sure as hell thought of her and another woman. Why should it be any different for her?
How could he fulfill her fantasy without her knowing he'd read her journal? The last thing he wanted was for her to feel ashamed or embarrassed. Then it hit him. He'd make it his idea. His Christmas gift to her. He'd just finished his shift, and he had forty-eight hours to prove to his wife that he could be everything she wanted. He mentally shoved his possessive side into a box and locked it tight, then ran through a list of men. Men who would be willing to join in a threesome, but not take it beyond a single night. One night of pleasure in the privacy of their home. Whomever he chose, the man would have to be trustworthy. A decent guy. Single. The only man that fit that description was his buddy Alex Boggs. Alex was single. He was a good firefighter. Would he go for it or laugh in his face? What the hell was he saying, of course Alex would go for it. Christ, Suni was sexy as hell. But, could he handle seeing another man penetrate her? It made him tense up just thinking about it. But it also made his dick hard.
One night. No more. He could grant her this wish and she'd have it out of her system.
He placed the journal on her nightstand and went to the bathroom. Adrenaline fired his nerves as he rushed through his shower. He had plans to make. It was crazy, but for the first time in months, Ross felt truly alive. He couldn't wait to put his thoughts into action. His gentle little wife was about to be taught a lesson. Between a husband and wife, nothing should ever be taboo.
He placed the journal on her nightstand and went to the bathroom. Adrenaline fired his nerves as he rushed through his shower. He had plans to make. It was crazy, but for the first time in months, Ross felt truly alive. He couldn't wait to put his thoughts into action. His gentle little wife was about to be taught a lesson. Between a husband and wife, nothing should ever be taboo.
I'd say someone is in for a special surprise ;)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)