When he was 16 years old, Rich Miller saved a young man from drowning at his local pool. Little did he know that years later, as a senior in college and Olympic diving hopeful, Rich would meet up once again with Johnny Milloway, now a big football player – and when Rich says big, he really means “bear”. The shy jock remembers his saviour, and the two men become friends.
Max Vos is a classically trained chef with over 30 years of food service experience. After retiring in 2011, Max found himself with time on his hands and was urged to turn his talents to writing. ‘Cooking English’, a short story, was his first published work, and has four other short stories currently in publication with Ravenous Romance. His first novel, My Hero was a number one best seller on Amazon. He continues to challenge himself with varying topics, from Marine Vampires to taboo subjects. The one thing you will always be guaranteed to find in his writing is hard, gritty, man-on-man sex.
Max loves hearing from readers. You can keep up with him by reading his weekly blog posts on his own blog page: http://www.maxvos.com/
Jared Bradford has been a nation-wide gay nightlife icon, actor, go-go dancer, singer, model, classically-trained pianist, yogi, and educator in physics and mathematics. He is originally from Louisiana, but now lives very happily in New York City with his partner of three and half years, Seth Fornea, and adorable Chihuahua, Miley. As a debut narrator and producer, Jared is proud to present his performance of My Hero as his first introduction to the audiobook world.
Jared has always had a strong interest in music and the theater and has starred in several productions of plays and musicals including Hay Fever, Old Wicked Songs, The Exonerated, Godspell, and A Grand Night for Singing. He also recently portrayed Chandler in the daytime web series La Fleur de Mai. Now, he is delighted to be able to bring his interests in music recording and acting together to produce quality audiobooks.
Like most, Jared loves to enjoy life, and always tries to find the FUN in everything. If you have the chance to see him twerking it on a box somewhere around the world, don’t be shy and come say hi!
Chaos reigns in The Sleepless City, and it’s really beginning to piss Detective Jonas Forge off. He’s got inner demons to battle and a life to build with his new soul mate, Blair Turner. Nothing is going right, and he already feels the universe is conspiring against him when a turn of events he never saw coming flips his world upside down.
Hallucinations grip the town and everyone in it, threatening to tear their precariously built family apart, and the only way forward is to bare all to each other. This means Declan and Blair need to learn to accept one another. Lucas Coate has to move forward without ties to his werewolf pack and live a monogamous life with Declan.
But while Forge and Declan confront horrors from their shared past, Simon learns a terrible truth about vampires—one he couldn’t have imagined in his worst nightmares.
Pages or Words: 73,000 words
Excerpt:
“What happened?” Blair asked. He turned his head toward the back door. A second later Moose was running to the back of the house.
Jonas strode in, jerked his jacket off, and tossed it down beside Ben’s helmet, muttering as he went. He stopped and faced them. “Those fools have decided I must be head detective.”
Lucas came to a stop behind Jonas, grinning.
“Wait, you’ve been pissed off all day because you got a promotion?” Blair asked.
Ben lunged forward and threw his arms around Jonas’s neck. “Sweet as! We have to celebrate. It’s about time they recognized you like this. I think it’s crappy you haven’t been promoted until now.”
Jonas pulled in a breath and stepped back from Ben. “I thank you, but it’s a fucking disaster.”
“Another of the Council’s tricks,” Declan added.
“They can’t do this, can they?” Simon said and sat down abruptly on the couch. “That’s against the Council rules.”
“What’s wrong with all of you?” Ben turned in a circle, glaring at each of them in turn.
“I can’t be the head detective.” Jonas took a DVD from the shelf under the television and put it in the player. He grabbed the remote control, aimed, and pointed. “This”—he waved at the scene appearing on the TV—”is why I can’t have this job.”
An image of Stewie in relation to some incident that, by the looks of it, had happened a few years ago appeared on the screen. Underneath were the words “Flint, Ohio, Head Detective Stewart Belle,” and Stewie was speaking to a reporter.
“Oh crap,” Blair said. He and Ben stood side by side.
“Yes. Oh crap covers it nicely. The head detective must be a human, has always been a human. You know, someone who can be seen by a camera and is available during the full moon,” Jonas said. “Before Stewie there was some dick by the name of Felton, and before that we had the oh-so-delightful Smyth.”
Ben nudged Blair and waved one hand between Declan and Jonas. “Have you noticed that between the thief and the cop, the cop is the one with the problems with authority?” Sales Links:
Elizabeth Noble started telling stories before she actually knew how to write, and her family was very happy when she learned to put words on a page. Those words turned into fan fiction that turned into a genuine love of M/M romance fiction. Being able to share her works with Dreamspinner is really a dream come true. She has a real love for a good mystery complete with murder and twisty plots as well as all things sci-fi, futuristic, and supernatural and a bit of an unnatural interest in a super-volcano in Wyoming.
Elizabeth has three grown children and is now happily owned by an adorable mixed breed canine princess named Rosie, and two cats, Murphy and Yeti. She lives in her native northeast Ohio, the perfect place for gardening, winter and summer sports (go Tribe!). When she’s not writing she’s working as a veterinary nurse, so don’t be surprised to see her men with a pet or three who are a very big part of their lives.
Two of Elizabeth’s books have received Honorable Mentions in the Rainbow Awards.
Excerpt:
That night Luis dreams for the first time in years.
His surroundings are a surreal clash between pub and coffee shop. The bar is one he frequents only when he craves the noise and companionship of a crowd instead of an empty studio. The coffee shop is where he sat only days ago, agreeing to take on his first commission in ages. The mix of locales is strangely chaotic, too many details going awry between them. Gray windows hang opposite the bar itself, reflected by a wide mirror along the back wall. Yellow light glints from the ceiling, painting the pub brighter than Luis has ever actually seen it.
The booth he occupies is plush, empty but for himself, and the cushions beneath and behind him are cracked with wear.
“Can I join you?” a coffee-smooth voice asks, and Luis raises his eyes to find absolute perfection smiling down at him.
He can’t answer. His voice has frozen in his throat.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the man says, dropping into the booth across from Luis. Mischief glints in dark eyes, and Luis stares in helpless silence, taking in everything he’s been searching for in a thousand unsuccessful sketches. Sharp cheekbones cut across a narrow face, perfectly symmetrical and softened by a widening smile. The face is narrow, but the jaw is strong, the nose straight and broad and fitted perfectly to deceptively delicate features. There’s an uncanny smoothness to the brow where it slopes beneath dark curls, but the smoothness creases when sharp eyebrows rise in pointed amusement.
Generous lips quirk into an even wider smile, and the man asks, “See something you like?”
Luis tries to reply, but he’s still too floored. Even knowing this is a dream, he’s mortified with himself for gawping. It’s embarrassingly difficult to summon his voice and answer.
“You’re perfect.” He means to say more, but a grating alarm sounds, jarring him. When he blinks he’s not at the bar any longer, but at home in his own bed, early sunlight piercing between window curtains and the alarm clock a cacophony in his ears.
The grogginess of sleep vanishes in a rush of adrenaline, and Luis reaches for the sketchbook on his nightstand
from By Hand and Heart by Yolande Kleinn
John doesn’t expect Michael to be as weirdly taken with the ocean as he is with the wild woods. It doesn’t seem like his element the way the trees are. But he is mesmerized by the beach almost instantly upon their arrival, insisting they walk along the hard wet sand of the tide line. It doesn’t matter how many times John says their muscles will ache unhappily tomorrow from miles walked at the edge of the frigid fall water; Michael either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care enough to respond.
John is fascinated as Michael keeps a close eye on shells and rocks. One is shaped like a small egg, and he’s disappointed when it’s not. Still he makes John hold it for him, running ahead to a rock jetty to comb through the midden of mussel shells left by persistent and angry seagulls.
John tries not to be horrified, but the sight of Michael’s fingers picking through the dead bivalves and seaweed stinking in the sun is a bit much.
“What’s this?” Michael asks, eventually, holding out a shell, colored and swirled, to him.
It’s in perfect condition, and John is about to be impressed with the find until he realizes there’s still a creature using the shell as its home.
“That’s an animal in there.” He doesn’t actually know what kind. But it’s gelatinous and of the sea and not really a thing they should be messing with. They’ve seen dozens of jellyfish washed up on the beach already today.
“Does it go in the ocean or not in the ocean?”
“Ocean,” John says. He’s not 100 percent sure, but he suspects, like the jellyfish, the sun and the birds will eventually cook and peck it to nothing if it’s not saved by the sea.
Michael throws the shell back and returns to the tide line as they walk, gaze carefully on the ground and picking at every shell he sees that looks like whatever creature he just rescued. Most of them have their animals in them, and John suspects the coming hurricane that’s going to ruin their trip is churning them up.
As Michael throws each one back into the water, John is charmed that he’s trying to save creatures that have no spine, names he doesn’t know, and forms he’s never seen before.
Eventually Michael decides they can leave and reaches for John’s hand. John flinches away. It’s not the strangeness of the town this beach is attached to, half religious meeting town, half gay beach paradise. There’s even a club down the block from their inn that advertises “Less Lights, More Fun!” It’s that he can only think about whatever bacteria Michael is now coated in from all the dead mussels.
God, but he’s going to look like an idiot explaining that.
When he tries, stumbling through a mini monologue about seaweed and sea creatures and sand, Michael just listens with his head tipped to the side.
Finally John’s speech drags to a halt under Michael’s incredibly unimpressed gaze. He sighs and starts again.
“Okay. I swear the handholding thing has nothing to do with anything except your gross dead bivalve hands. But I think I may be freaking out.”
Michael blinks at him. “Did this start when we checked in and you had to deal with people who know we’re here to fuck?”
It’s sharp, but John knows he probably deserves it.
“You know I don’t mind being out in public with you,” he says cautiously. He wants to be honest with Michael, but he also doesn’t want to provoke anger by being less willing to be out than Michael deems sufficient.
Thankfully Michael considers John for a moment and then grins. “Somewhere in the romantic beach getaway, I got that.”
John lets out a relieved sigh and wraps an arm around Michael’s waist. He wants to prove his willingness to be fully in this relationship without shame, but life is also just better when they’re touching. Michael leans into his side, and they start walking down the sand again.
“But it’s something I can’t help being aware of,” John says quietly as they walk. “What we are and what people see when they look at me. Which apparently means I’ve found my internalized homophobia, and I am completely aware of how gross that is. I’m going to work on that, but there it is.”
“You still want to, like, go out to dinner tonight and make out on the boardwalk, though, right?”
“Oh my God, you have no idea. I want to tell everybody about you.”
Michael smirks. “So why don’t you?”
“Coming out at my age is kind of more complicated than it is at twelve. Or however old you were when you did.”
“I was fourteen, thank you.”
“So how did you come out to your parents?” John asks after they walk for a few minutes in silence.
Michael cracks up.
“I’m serious!”
Michael buries his face in John’s arm and apparently can’t stop laughing. “You do understand how ridiculous this is, right?”
“I understand that I’m forty-two and have to come out to everyone in my entire life that I give a remote shit about, because you are addictive and fascinating and wonderful and also are sadly holding me to some pretty legitimate ethical standards. So help a guy out, okay?”
“I was making out with my first high school boyfriend in the living room, and my mom walked in.”
John is entirely not surprised. “So hey, when you meet my family, let’s not go with that plan, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Michael says, drawing the word out in a way that makes it clear it’s his turn to be defensive and weird.
John smirks, pleased to be off the hook for the moment. “You haven’t told them about us either,” he says smugly.
Michael mumbles something against John’s arm.
“What was that?”
“You’re really old,” Michael says. “And they’re going to freak.”
Sales Links: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6728
About the authors: Erin McRae is a queer writer and blogger based in Washington, D.C. She has a master’s degree in International Affairs from American University, and delights in applying her knowledge of international relations theory to her fiction and screen-based projects, because conflict drives narrative.
Racheline Maltese lives a big life from a small space. She flies planes, sails boats, and rides horses, but as a native New Yorker, has no idea how to drive a car. A long-time entertainment and media industry professional, she lives in Brooklyn with her partner and their two cats.
Together, they are co-authors of the gay romance series Love in Los Angeles, set in the film and television industry — Starling (September 10, 2014), Doves (January 21, 2015), and Phoenix (June 10, 2015) — from Torquere Press. Their gay romance novella series Love’s Labours, set in the theater world — Midsummer (May 20, 2015), and Twelfth Night (August 12, 2015), is from Dreamspinner Press. They also have a story in Best Gay Romance 2015 from Cleis Press and edited by Felice Picano. You can find them on the web at http://www.Avian30.com.
Spunky commander Berit Turner is known for two things: his huge libido and his lack of a filter—he says what he thinks. Berit sets his mind on being part of the mission to Ligador, to make sure the planet is habitable for humans. He’s ecstatic when his team is assigned to the task force. A delegation of Nadisc, a humanoid alien race, accompanies them, and passion ignites between Berit and their commanding officer, Tom. But Berit is determined that Tom is just another notch on his bedpost, as he doesn’t do relationships.
The excursion to Ligador goes wrong from the beginning, when they discover Ligador has been established as a breeding station by their worst enemy: the Tash’Ba. Dinosaur-like creatures become the team’s worst nightmare, and staying alive is going to take everything they’ve got… and then some.
Pages or Words: 204 pages or about 65,000 words
Categories: M/M Romance, Science Fiction
Excerpt:
Excerpt from Chapter Two
Several alarmed shouts warned me of something going on, but I had no time to process what happened. Something roped around my waist and yanked me over to the side. I crashed into Tom’s chest as a harsh growling sound erupted from his throat.
I tried jerking myself free, but he held onto my wrists with one hand, while his tail kept me tethered to his body. “What the hell?”
Niyara squared off in front of Tom, her dark eyes gleaming with an eerie, demonic red glint where her pupils should’ve been. Her long tail swished from one side to the other and her arm muscles flexed.
“What the ever-loving fuck is going on?” I asked.
“Quiet!” Tom hissed.
My mouth fell open, and I gaped at him. Okay. Enough was enough. I caught the tip of his tail in my hand and pinched it—hard. He roared, but I used the chance to slip free. A Nadisc’s tail tip was the most sensitive part, which came in handy during sex but was a real disadvantage in a fight. Or maybe not. I’d never heard of someone winning a fight against a Nadisc when—
Niyara’s fist closing around my shirt stopped all my pondering. She lifted me off my feet, hissing and boring her eerie gaze into mine. Maybe I should’ve stayed with Tom. He’d felt slightly less dangerous than she did.
Carson appeared next to Niyara’s side, eyes as large as saucers but an equally determined look on his face. He reached out. As soon as he touched her arm, her head whirled around. I held my breath. Would he be able to save me from Niyara’s wrath? She’d seemed rather taken with him earlier. What the hell had I done, anyway, to agitate her?
As I wracked my brain, Carson and Niyara gazed at each other. The next instant he rose on tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
She let go of my shirt, and I would’ve landed flat on my ass if Tom hadn’t snatched me around the waist. Niyara rested her head on Carson’s shoulder, which meant she had to stoop because of her height. No one said anything, and no one moved for what seemed like a long time. When she lifted her head, several people—including me—hissed, afraid of what she’d do next.
Niyara bowed her head toward Tom. “I apologize for my outburst. I’ve never encountered a jealousy spell before.”
“Jealousy spell?” I echoed.
She gazed at me, suddenly looking sheepish. “Feeling such a strong connection is new to me, and I didn’t like Carson using an endearment toward you.”
I blinked, then looked over at Carson. He gawked, and his eyes were the same size as before. Would they stay like that forever?
Niyara swept an arm around to include everyone in her proclamation, which resulted in startled jerks and coughs. “I’m claiming Carson as my mate. Anyone who’d like to object has to fight me.”
No one objected. Everyone seemed busy inspecting their boots or the ceiling. I never noticed before how very ugly the hatch’s ceiling was.
“Berit!” Carson wheezed out.
I sighed and transferred my gaze from the ceiling to Carson. “Congrats?”
Someone cheered and the others followed suit, clapping their hands to add to the noise. Carson was so pale I feared he’d faint, but Niyara cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. After that, he didn’t seem to mind that much, not anymore.
Chuckling, I told the others to open the hatch and take up their position. The hatch opened with the usual buzz, but when I started to walk, Tom’s arms around my waist tightened to an almost painful level.
“Tell them to secure the area and wait for further instructions,” he whispered into my ear.
“Dream on. I won’t do—” My words ended abruptly when the steel bands around my waist left me no room for breathing.
“Now.”
Tom allowed me more breathing room, and I gave the desired order. No one looked twice or questioned my instruction, for which I’d have been grateful on any other day, just not today. Ticking off a Nadisc was a bad idea. One of the worst, really.
We waited until everyone had cleared the hatch’s area. Tom spun me around in his arms and lifted me up until we were face-to-face.
“You accepted me as your leader on this mission, remember? That means no punching me,” I said, “or doing anything that would harm me.”
Tom’s gaze intensified, and my mouth went dry when he spread out a red and orange speckled frill around his neck. I’d read about this display, but had never seen it before. Only a few Nadisc still had those frills—most opted for surgery because it gave away their emotions too easily—and those that did had a very tight control over it.
“But it’s okay for you to hurt me?” he rasped.
I tried to reason with him. “I… look, I’m the commander here. You can’t just order me around or hold me captive, okay?”
“Niyara could’ve killed you.”
I shrugged. “She didn’t, and she’ll just have to get used to the way Carson and I talk to each other.”
The frill around his neck unfolded even more. He said, “I’m not fond of the way you talk to each other.”
I had an inkling where this conversation was headed. I had an even bigger inkling that I’d panic if Tom said anything, so I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around his neck—over the frill, which was kind of awkward—and sought his mouth with mine.
He opened up immediately, and I dipped my tongue into his mouth, licking along his teeth and eliciting an approving hum from him. Somehow I ended up with my legs wound around him and one of his hands steadying my ass.
When we broke apart for air, he said, “I won’t forget what you did.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” I replied. His eyes lit up with interest, so I added, “Deal?”
“Deal.”
Chris T. Kat lives in the middle of Europe, where she shares a house with her husband of many years and their two children. She stumbled upon the M/M genre by luck and was swiftly drawn into it. She divides her time between work, her family—which includes chasing after escaping horses and lugging around huge instruments such as a harp—and writing. She enjoys a variety of genres, such as mystery/suspense, paranormal, and romance. If there’s any spare time, she happily reads for hours, listens to audiobooks or does cross stitch.
Several alarmed shouts warned me of something going on, but I had no time to process what happened. Something roped around my waist and yanked me over to the side. I crashed into Tom’s chest as a harsh growling sound erupted from his throat.
I tried jerking myself free, but he held onto my wrists with one hand, while his tail kept me tethered to his body. “What the hell?”
Niyara squared off in front of Tom, her dark eyes gleaming with an eerie, demonic red glint where her pupils should’ve been. Her long tail swished from one side to the other and her arm muscles flexed.
“What the ever-loving fuck is going on?” I asked.
“Quiet!” Tom hissed.
My mouth fell open, and I gaped at him. Okay. Enough was enough. I caught the tip of his tail in my hand and pinched it—hard. He roared, but I used the chance to slip free. A Nadisc’s tail tip was the most sensitive part, which came in handy during sex but was a real disadvantage in a fight. Or maybe not. I’d never heard of someone winning a fight against a Nadisc when—
Niyara’s fist closing around my shirt stopped all my pondering. She lifted me off my feet, hissing and boring her eerie gaze into mine. Maybe I should’ve stayed with Tom. He’d felt slightly less dangerous than she did.
Carson appeared next to Niyara’s side, eyes as large as saucers but an equally determined look on his face. He reached out. As soon as he touched her arm, her head whirled around. I held my breath. Would he be able to save me from Niyara’s wrath? She’d seemed rather taken with him earlier. What the hell had I done, anyway, to agitate her?
As I wracked my brain, Carson and Niyara gazed at each other. The next instant he rose on tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
She let go of my shirt, and I would’ve landed flat on my ass if Tom hadn’t snatched me around the waist. Niyara rested her head on Carson’s shoulder, which meant she had to stoop because of her height. No one said anything, and no one moved for what seemed like a long time. When she lifted her head, several people—including me—hissed, afraid of what she’d do next.
Niyara bowed her head toward Tom. “I apologize for my outburst. I’ve never encountered a jealousy spell before.”
“Jealousy spell?” I echoed.
She gazed at me, suddenly looking sheepish. “Feeling such a strong connection is new to me, and I didn’t like Carson using an endearment toward you.”
I blinked, then looked over at Carson. He gawked, and his eyes were the same size as before. Would they stay like that forever?
Niyara swept an arm around to include everyone in her proclamation, which resulted in startled jerks and coughs. “I’m claiming Carson as my mate. Anyone who’d like to object has to fight me.”
No one objected. Everyone seemed busy inspecting their boots or the ceiling. I never noticed before how very ugly the hatch’s ceiling was.
“Berit!” Carson wheezed out.
I sighed and transferred my gaze from the ceiling to Carson. “Congrats?”
Someone cheered and the others followed suit, clapping their hands to add to the noise. Carson was so pale I feared he’d faint, but Niyara cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. After that, he didn’t seem to mind that much, not anymore.
Chuckling, I told the others to open the hatch and take up their position. The hatch opened with the usual buzz, but when I started to walk, Tom’s arms around my waist tightened to an almost painful level.
“Tell them to secure the area and wait for further instructions,” he whispered into my ear.
“Dream on. I won’t do—” My words ended abruptly when the steel bands around my waist left me no room for breathing.
“Now.”
Tom allowed me more breathing room, and I gave the desired order. No one looked twice or questioned my instruction, for which I’d have been grateful on any other day, just not today. Ticking off a Nadisc was a bad idea. One of the worst, really.
We waited until everyone had cleared the hatch’s area. Tom spun me around in his arms and lifted me up until we were face-to-face.
“You accepted me as your leader on this mission, remember? That means no punching me,” I said, “or doing anything that would harm me.”
Tom’s gaze intensified, and my mouth went dry when he spread out a red and orange speckled frill around his neck. I’d read about this display, but had never seen it before. Only a few Nadisc still had those frills—most opted for surgery because it gave away their emotions too easily—and those that did had a very tight control over it.
“But it’s okay for you to hurt me?” he rasped.
I tried to reason with him. “I… look, I’m the commander here. You can’t just order me around or hold me captive, okay?”
“Niyara could’ve killed you.”
I shrugged. “She didn’t, and she’ll just have to get used to the way Carson and I talk to each other.”
The frill around his neck unfolded even more. He said, “I’m not fond of the way you talk to each other.”
I had an inkling where this conversation was headed. I had an even bigger inkling that I’d panic if Tom said anything, so I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around his neck—over the frill, which was kind of awkward—and sought his mouth with mine.
He opened up immediately, and I dipped my tongue into his mouth, licking along his teeth and eliciting an approving hum from him. Somehow I ended up with my legs wound around him and one of his hands steadying my ass.
When we broke apart for air, he said, “I won’t forget what you did.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” I replied. His eyes lit up with interest, so I added, “Deal?”
“Deal.”
Chris T. Kat lives in the middle of Europe, where she shares a house with her husband of many years and their two children. She stumbled upon the M/M genre by luck and was swiftly drawn into it. She divides her time between work, her family—which includes chasing after escaping horses and lugging around huge instruments such as a harp—and writing. She enjoys a variety of genres, such as mystery/suspense, paranormal, and romance. If there’s any spare time, she happily reads for hours, listens to audiobooks or does cross stitch.
Spunky commander Berit Turner is known for two things: his huge libido and his lack of a filter—he says what he thinks. Berit sets his mind on being part of the mission to Ligador, to make sure the planet is habitable for humans. He’s ecstatic when his team is assigned to the task force. A delegation of Nadisc, a humanoid alien race, accompanies them, and passion ignites between Berit and their commanding officer, Tom. But Berit is determined that Tom is just another notch on his bedpost, as he doesn’t do relationships.
The excursion to Ligador goes wrong from the beginning, when they discover Ligador has been established as a breeding station by their worst enemy: the Tash’Ba. Dinosaur-like creatures become the team’s worst nightmare, and staying alive is going to take everything they’ve got… and then some.
Pages or Words: 204 pages or about 65,000 words
Categories: M/M Romance, Science Fiction
Excerpt:
Excerpt from Chapter One:
After a five-minute standoff with our Nadiscs, I rolled my eyes and squared off in front of them. “Look, I know you have a rule about not giving your name out to anyone, so why don’t we cut it short. You”—I pointed at the woman—”will be R1.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, which I ignored, even though my hands began to perspire. I pointed at the man standing on her left and said, “That’ll make you R2.” I leveled my finger at the remaining one and added, “So you’ll be R3. We should all be able to remember R1, and if we get it wrong when there’s an emergency, we’ll only have to shout for R2 and R3 together and one of you will help us out.”
R2’s eyebrows knitted together very closely, and in the background feet shuffled. Someone cleared his throat. R3 came forward, one step at a time. I could’ve sworn the floor vibrated with every move. All my instincts screamed at me to leg it, but if I’d learned one lesson well, it was not to show fear. Not too much, anyway.
R3’s arm shot out before I had a chance to see it coming. His large hand clasped around my neck and all my hairs stood on end. I kept completely still, waiting for the blow to come.
He gazed at me from dark brown eyes, then lifted his other hand. The atmosphere around us thickened, and my poor confused cock perked up with interest. The Nadisc laid a hand against my cheek, left it there for a while, before he eventually pulled it away.
He pointed at his comrades. “Niyara.”
The Nadisc woman inclined her head.
“This is Xevon. And to make it easier for you and your people, you may call me Tom.”
“Tom?” I blurted. “Don’t you have a fancy name like the others?” The grasp around my neck tightened, and I hastened to add. “Short is cool, though. Really cool.”
“Thought so.”
Tom released my neck, but didn’t step away. Slightly wary, I glanced up at him. He grinned at me, showing a full line of well-tended white humanoid teeth, then beckoned to Niyara and Xevon. They bridged the distances in two long strides and formed a circle around me.
“Um, guys, what’s going on?” I asked, mulling whether I could slip past them or not.
They intertwined their hands and closed the circle around me. Someone—I think it was Carson—muttered something fierce, and a moment later three large bodies crowded me. I opened my mouth to tell them off, or maybe to ask them very politely to back off a little—same difference, really—when an eerie shout resounded through the hangar.
My eyes had to be circular by the time they finished. You could’ve heard a pin drop, it was that silent around us.
Niyara, Xevon, and Tom took one step backward, and I breathed more freely. Niyara smashed her fist against her chest, declaring, “We accept you as our leader on this mission.”
I gaped at her. The Nadisc helped and supported humans, but accepting leadership from a human? They very rarely did. Niyara smiled at me, a genuine smile that showed a prettiness I hadn’t seen before, then she engulfed me in a rib-creaking embrace. I was stumbling to find my footing once she’d set me down when Xevon lifted me off my feet and hugged me too.
He and Niyara turned around and advanced on my crew members, eliciting a few terrified squeaks. I peered at Tom, who showed no inclination of moving.
“What? No hug from you?” I asked.
He held out his broad muscled arms for me, grinning. My mouth went dry and my damn cock pressed heavily against the fabric of my pants. It had to be visible to everyone. For the first time in many years, heat rose into my cheeks. Tom’s grin expanded before he laughed. I stepped into his arms, bracing myself for another painful embrace. Instead, I found myself leaning against a hard chest with equally hard arms around me, fencing me in but without hurting me.
I mumbled into his leather vest, “Do you by chance happen to like blond humans?”
“I do.”
I would’ve screamed hallelujah if Baker’s voice over the loudspeaker hadn’t demanded we get going.
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Chris T. Kat lives in the middle of Europe, where she shares a house with her husband of many years and their two children. She stumbled upon the M/M genre by luck and was swiftly drawn into it. She divides her time between work, her family—which includes chasing after escaping horses and lugging around huge instruments such as a harp—and writing. She enjoys a variety of genres, such as mystery/suspense, paranormal, and romance. If there’s any spare time, she happily reads for hours, listens to audiobooks or does cross stitch.
Jordan’s muscles slackened, and cold anticipation formed a lump in his stomach. Rick isn’t really jealous?
But the feral look in Rick’s eyes said he was.
The hand on his shoulder nudged him toward the ballroom. Did Rick want him? Was that why he’d agreed to come stag?
Rick’s fingers idly tapped the small of Jordan’s back as they walked. The whisper of contact was odd and possessive, and it sent Jordan’s blood surging to all the wrong places. He shouldn’t have had that second scotch. He was relaxed and horny, especially with Rick so close, when he needed to keep his wits about him. Rick would never forgive him if he let something slip about their past together in front of their high school friends.
The tapping continued, revving his nerves into high gear. His fly pressed painfully against his flesh. He turned to Rick. “Will you stop touching me?”
Rick’s easy smile fled. “Why?”
He grabbed the collar of Rick’s shirt and said in his ear, “Because, dumbass, you’re making me hard.”
Rick raised his brows and smirked. They moved forward again. The tapping slowed but didn’t stop.
About the author:
Andrea Dalling lives in the sexy Southeast, where the summers are hot and the romance hotter. During the day, she’s an award-winning technical writer, but at night, she writes steamy stories. She loves to torture her characters but eventually rewards them with a happily-ever-after. Married to her college sweetheart, she’s a progressive Christian and an advocate for LGBT rights. You can follow her on Facebook (andrea.dalling.romance) or on Twitter (@Andrea_Dalling).
Publisher: Artesian Well Publishing
Cover Artist: Andrea Dalling
Excerpt:
Gage checked his shirt before he headed into the sushi place. Boulder had the best downtown, charming and upscale, but not formal. Not as hipster as Austin or Portland, not as redneck as Denver or Dallas — it managed to be clever and casual all at once.
He totally approved.
Now if he could only approve this date. A bear? Him?
Gage was as far from low-key twink as they came. He was… challenging. Doms dumped him regularly.
A bear seemed so. Oh, he didn’t know. Sweet. Goofy.
He glanced around, wondering if he was early.
He tended to be early.
He liked being early.
There. Back in the corner where the bar bent around. That has to be his date. A huge man with shaggy, dark brown hair and a sunbaked face with lots of smile lines.
He looked a little like a lumberjack. It was adorable. So not his type, but cute.
The guy stood, smiling, making his oddly light brown eyes light up. “Hey! You must be Gage. I’m Hamish.” He pronounced it “hay-mish”.
“Hamish. Hello.” He found a smile to offer back. How could you not like a guy who grinned like that?
“Hi. I hope you like sushi.” Hamish waved to the seat next to him at the bar.
“Fish, salty peppery yumminess. What’s not to like?”
“Right?” Hamish was a big guy. Not fat at all, but he overflowed his personal space into Gage’s, warm and spicy smelling. At least he didn’t stink. That was always hard to get around. “Anyway, I got a little hungry before you got here, so I got mussels and carpaccio. In case you hate mussels.”
“Mussels are good. Tuna is my favorite. Cliché, but true.”
“They have an amazing hamachi appetizer.” Food was a great social equalizer.
“I’m totally in, man.” He nodded to the waiter, got his attention.
“Excellent. So, what do you do?” Small talk. Again with the cute.
“I’m a software designer. I create weird little things that people don’t know they need. You?”
“I build shit. Right now I’m very into tiny houses. For other people. I need square footage.” He grinned.
“Tiny houses? No shit?” Okay, that was cool. Not sexy, but better than software designer.
“I’ve done some work for local architects, and I love carving on a large scale.” Hamish held up his hands, scarred and callused.
He took one in hand, hoping for a zing, for a flash of lightning, but there wasn’t one. Just a warmth. Sweet. Steady.
He looked at the palm, fingers tracing over the calluses. “I approve.”
“Thanks.” Hamish grinned. “It’s good work.”
“That’s sort of how I feel about mine. It’s computer work, but there’s a lot of design involved in it.”
“Sounds neat. Keeps you from getting bored, right?” Hamish flagged down a waitress to order their hamachi.
“It does.” He ordered a couple of honey wheat beers.
“So…”
They both said it at the same time, then laughed. “You go,” Gage said.
“I was just wondering what made you go to Full Moon.”
“I’ve been searching for something and I’m beginning to think that I’m doomed, that I’m too much to handle.” And now he was sitting with a big teddy bear. “What about you?”
“Oh, you know. Everyone thinks I’m a big marshmallow. No one wants to play rough.” Hamish’s cheeks went pink.
“No one? That totally sucks.” He was touching Hamish’s wrist now.
“I know! I mean, this is a cosmopolitan place, kinda. Boulder, I mean. You’d think I could find someone not afraid to bait the bear.”
Okay. Okay, now there was a hint of promise there. “What are you into?”
“All sorts of things.” Hamish met his gaze, golden eyes alight. “I love bondage. Spanking. Some discipline, though not deep domestic or anything. And I like rough stuff, when someone will fight me, make me work for it.”
Well, now he got it, why they were put together. He was, at best, a pushy little bottom. Still, Hamish seemed so… laid-back. Could there really be an opportunity?
About the author:
Julia Talbot lives in the great Southwest, where there is hot and cold running rodeo, cowboys, and everything from meat and potatoes to the best Tex-Mex. A full time author, Julia has been published by Torquere Press, Dreamspinner and Changeling Press. She believes that everyone deserves a happy ending, so she writes about love without limits, where boys love boys, girls love girls, and boys and girls get together to get wild, especially when her crazy paranormal characters are involved. Find Julia at @juliatalbot on Twitter, or at http://www.juliatalbot.com.
Excerpt:
Todd sought solace where he always had—in the woods where he’d camped as a kid. He could hear birds in the trees and small animals scurrying through the undergrowth, but other than that uninterested company, he was alone. The spring rains had just tapered off and Todd wanted to take advantage of the outdoors before droves of tourists descended on Edgerton. The shorter days cut into his hiking time, but he would deal with that. He wasn’t sick of his own company yet and could read by lantern light when his thoughts got to be too much.
The ground was littered with dead leaves and other detritus typical of undisturbed nature. If he hadn’t been watching where he was going so carefully—one false step could leave him with a broken leg, and even Todd wasn’t so melodramatic that he wanted to die out here—he might have missed the flannel jacket that blended so well with the forest floor. Todd was about to dismiss it as trash from a previous camper when he realized it was attached to something.
Something that looked suspiciously like a hand.
About the author:
M. Durango ~ Mar to her friends ~ has been writing on and off since her first foray into fanfic at the age of 8. Sometime in 2003, she discovered m/m romance and was hooked. Finally figuring out what she wanted to do with her life at the early age of 34, she quit her corporate job, bought a bunch of writing books, and set out to learn how to create characters, dialog, and actual plots.
Mar grew up in New Jersey and has lived in the Pacific Northwest since the mid-90s with her scientist hubby and two insane cats.
