Excerpt:
Sebastiano Fiorentelli studied the calendar — a freebie from the Humane Society with photos of puppies and kittens on it — on the wall of his cluttered basement laboratory and observed that it was the thirtieth day of October. Since emigrating to the United States and discovering the Halloween custom of sending children around to beg for treats, he’d made a habit of including something extra in the candy he made for the occasion each year. By the Nineteen-seventies, when hysteria over poison and razor blades swept the population, Mr. Fiorentelli had been living in his San Jose neighborhood long enough that no one fussed about letting their children eat his wax-paper-wrapped candies.
He paced back and forth in front of open cabinets and crowded shelves, pondering what to make this year, until finally he stopped and nodded.
“Courage,” he said. “This year, I think I’ll make courage…”
Angela Benedetti lives in Seattle with her husband, five computers, and thousands of books. She started writing as a teenager, and discovered soon after that romances with two hot guys are twice as good as romances with only one. When she’s not at the computer, she enjoys cooking and baking, going to science fiction conventions, and cruising with her husband. She’s one of the few people in the universe who loses weight on cruises. (Must be all those walking-around shore tours and the lack of free internet access.) Her favorite mainstream fiction genres are science fiction and fantasy, both of which tend to seep into her own writing; the Hidden Magic series is a fun blend of romance and fantasy.
Excerpt:
Weighed down by groceries and a bulging duffle bag, I rang Terry’s doorbell.
“It’s open!” he called.
I left the bag in the entryway so he wouldn’t see it and brought the groceries to the kitchen. He was wearing jeans, an apron and nothing else, and he was sexy as hell. I wanted him to ravish me, right there, right then, but he was busily stirring and chopping and other mysterious kitchen pursuits—I’m not much of a cook.
“Don’t come into the bedroom.” I kissed his shoulder.
“Sure.” He gave my butt a quick pat before turning back to his frying pan.
Making sure he wasn’t watching, I carried the heavy bag down the hall to Terry’s bedroom and started unpacking my goodies.
I’ve known I was interested in BDSM for a long time, though I’d never had a play partner of my very own before Terry. Every now and then I’d see something in an adult store or on a website that I just had to buy, for private use or the hope that I would eventually find a top to play with. “Every now and then” adds up over the years, and soon the bag wouldn’t be big enough to hold everything.
I laid it all out on the bed so I could see everything and try to narrow down exactly what I wanted to do with Terry—or rather, have him do to me. As I pulled out each toy, I remembered the fantasy that had made me buy it.
Terry and I haven’t discussed roleplaying yet, and I was still too shy to mention it, and worried he’d think I was immature for wanting to play “let’s pretend”.
Simple was probably best. A scene that took too long to set up could use up all our energy before we’d actually played. I tossed almost everything back in the bag, except for my matching set of black leather wrist and ankle cuffs, and what had quickly become my favorite toy. It was a jockey bat; similar to a riding crop, but the leather tip was hard instead of flappy. Terry has used it in all sorts of ways—using it the way it was intended, flipping it around to hit me with the handle, striking my thighs or ass with the shaft like a cane, even holding it across the backs of my knees to pin me down.
“I’m ready,” I called.
“Me too. We’d better eat first, or we might not get around to it.”
I was restless. I wanted to play now, but I knew he was right. If we played, we probably wouldn’t leave the bed until morning, and the dinner he’d cooked would go to waste. With a final glance at the toys neatly arranged on the bed, I sauntered out to meet him.
“Are you sure you didn’t own a restaurant in a past life?” I asked, bumping him with my hip while I grabbed a plate. I thought about serving him, but we hadn’t discussed that level of D/s yet, so I only got food for myself.
“I’d go crazy in a restaurant, surrounded by people, everyone in a hurry. I couldn’t even do your job.” He was used to being his own boss; if he felt like working fourteen hours one day, he did. If he wanted to ride to the coast for the weekend, there was no one to stop him but his own deadlines.
T. Strange has been interested in BDSM for as long as she can remember. She and her wife were active participants in their local community for a number of years, but lately they’ve been focusing more on their own relationship. When not writing or being spanked, T. enjoys gardening, playing with her cats and other animals, and playing video games. She writes vanilla fiction under the same pen name.
Where to find the author: Facebook Facebook Author Page Twitter Pinterest Goodreads Blog
Other: Torquere Author page Goodreads Book Link
Publisher: Torquere Press
Cover Artist: B.S. Clay a Rafflecopter giveaway
Blurb: Corbin Ford, aka the Nightwatchman, named for the antique pocket watches he leaves behind at jobs, has been in the cat-burgling business for years. His father was. His grandfather was. His mother is still one of the most renowned thieves. Corbin likes his high-profile heists, priceless paintings from private collections, artifacts from museums, but his favorite? Jewels. Sparkly, beautiful jewels. If they’re famous, better yet.
Interpol agent Luke Eldridge has one goal and one goal only: to catch the Nightwatchman. Luke’s been after him for months, but getting the slip time and again is getting embarrassing. Luke has never even laid eyes on the bastard, but he’d happily strangle him. And then arrest him.
When Luke meets Corbin, the man of his dreams, he falls hard and fast… only to catch Corbin red-handed with his hand in a jewelry case at the scene of the highest-profile murder that’s rocked the international world in years.
Corbin was half-asleep when Luke said his name. They’d rinsed off again after, and he was cuddled into Luke’s fresh, puffy sheets.
“Cor, you still awake?”
Corbin wanted to sleep but he couldn’t resist the nickname Luke had been using for him lately. It made him feel like he belonged, like strolling in the streets or going to dinner. Like he was part of the real world. The world he didn’t even know he’d wanted until hed dipped his toes into it. He doubted he could keep it, but it was nice while it lasted.
“Yeah, babe. I’m still awake. What’s up?”
Luke’s arm, that had been warm around his middle, slid away, and he felt Luke sit up in bed. “I need to talk to you about something.”
That didn’t sound good. Corbin turned and sat up as well. He reached for Luke’s hand. “What is it?”
“I don’t know how to say this. I never have before.” He shrugged.
“You know you can tell me.”
Corbin’s mind raced. What the hell was it Luke had never told anyone? He didn’t seem like the type to keep secrets. He had a family and close friends he talked about constantly. Was he going to tell him… oh God. Corbin wasn’t ready for that word yet. Not when he was barely used to the fact that someone had his real phone number. He wasn’t—
“It’s about my job.”
Oh. Corbin’s heart stood still for one long moment before thumping back to life. That, he could handle. “What about it?”
“I don’t work in a bank, Corbin.”
Corbin choked. He was glad he wasn’t drinking anything; it would’ve ended all over the bed. “What?” Maybe he‘d been a little too quick to assume he could handle it.
“Okay, that sounded way more dramatic than I meant it to. It’s not, like, a secret.” He smiled, but the smile was shaky. A little weird. “My family knows. I, It’s not… I’m not CIA if that’s what you’re thinking,” Luke cracked a smile. “I just usually don’t tell people I’m dating. Well I usually don’t date at all, and it’s really easier not to get into it with guys at the pub, and you know, if I take them home for the night. I don’t want questions, but it’s not illegal, and I really wanted to tell you since we’re not just messing around anymore.”
Poor guy looked nervous, sounded nervous too, babbling like that. Not as nervous as Corbin suddenly was. The only kind of semi-secret, don’t-want-to-talk-about-it jobs people could have were, well, government. There wasn’t another choice unless they were talking mafia. Either way it wasn’t good. Corbin mentally took about fifty-five dives out Luke’s bedroom window. But he had to stay. He had to finish this.
“What do you do, Luke?” he asked. His voice was trembling. Luke probably thought he was angry. He was too freaked out to get to anger.
“Interpol. I’m an Interpol agent.”
Corbin’s heart stopped. “A-And what do you do for Interpol?” He already knew. Spain. Business trips. He knew. Part of him had known for weeks, but he hadn’t wanted to examine it. Fuck. He had to hear Luke say it out loud.
“I work in an art crimes and jewel theft unit.”
“O-Oh. Jesus. I don’t know what to say to that.” How about can I break the land speed record to get out of here?
Corbin had gone from boyfriends and “maybe he’s going to say the L-word” to “get me the hell away from this thing” in less than a minute. He was naked, and he felt even more naked, like all of the people chasing him were staring at him, looking under his skin. In a way it was true. Luke was chasing him. Luke. The thought that Luke’s main job at the moment was probably to catch him floored Corbin. He started to giggle. Worst stress reaction ever.
“Why are you laughing? I was sure you’d be angry with me.”
“A bank, Luke? A bank?”
Luke shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s what I tell all the guys. By the time I knew I wanted more than one night with you, it got awkward. I just…I’m sorry. I didn’t know when to tell you. Tonight seemed like the best option.”
“So Rob from the bank? Your best friend?”
“An agent.”
“His wife and kids?”
Luke gave him a quizzical look. “What about them?”
Corbin had this overwhelming need to hear all the details. He didn’t know why since he was getting the hell out of here at the first opportunity. “That wasn’t a story?”
“Of course not. They really exist. Pretty close to here actually.”
“And you’ve told them about me?”
“An embarrassing amount, yeah.” Luke must’ve noticed Corbin shaking. “Listen, what can I do? I really am sorry about this. I’ve been sorry for weeks. I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”
“You picked a good time, with my dick hanging out here.” Crass, maybe. But he felt so exposed.
“Well, so’s mine, and you’re not the one who just had to admit something.”
True enough. The giggles came again. Luke pulled Corbin close until he was practically in his lap, legs straddling Luke’s thighs. “Are you okay?”
“Freaked out,” Corbin said. It wasn’t a lie.
“It’s fine. I’m not like James Bond or anything. I told you. I go after thieves.”
“You’d make a hot secret agent.”
“You don’t hate me for lying?” Luke looked really worried. Corbin didn’t want to think about the other side of that confession. What Luke’s face would look like if he found out who he was in bed with.
“I understand why you did it. I feel really dumb for like, participating in your bank talk. Asking questions about your job.”
“Don’t. That was my fault. Now you don’t have to do it. You know what I am.”
“Are you allowed to talk about the cases you’re working on?”
“I’m not really supposed to. Not beyond general detail.”
“So tell me. Just what you can.”
“We catch thieves. Burglars; the kind local police can’t handle, international operations. High-profile crimes, high-profile victims.”
“Like that lady… I forget her name. The one with the stolen earrings?”
“Yes. Exactly like that.” Luke looked down at the bed.
“That’s your case?” Corbin tried to look excited but his insides were churning. He had to have confirmation. He had to have proof.
“Yeah. That’s my case. Anyway, I really shouldn’t say too much about it. We’re trying to keep the details under wraps, not that we have many.”
“Um. Wow. So, I guess that’s all then?”
Luke pulled Corbin tighter. “Yeah. It really isn’t that exciting. I just wanted you to know what I was doing when I was gone. I’m not sitting behind some desk transferring money from one millionaire to another. I guess I just… yeah. I wanted you to know the truth. Are we okay?”
“Yes. I’m going to need a little time to wrap my head around it, but I think we’re fine.”
Until I get the hell out of here and never come back.
He wasn’t leaving right then. Talk about suspicious. He didn’t want to do anything to make Luke notice he was acting weird. So he cuddled in Luke’s arms and tried to act like nothing was wrong. Odd part was, he found himself drifting off after a few minutes of staring into the dark.
I’m Mj O’Shea 🙂 I grew up, and still live, in sunny Washington state and while I love to visit other places, I can’t imagine calling anywhere else home.
I spent my childhood writing stories. Sometime in my early teens, the stories turned to romance. Most of those were about me, my friends, and our favorite movie and pop stars. Hopefully, I’ve come a long way since then.
When I’m not writing, I love to play the piano, dance, cook, paint pictures, and of course read! I like sparkly girly girl things, own at least twenty different colored headbands, and I have two little dogs who sit with me when I write. Sometimes they comes up with ideas for me too…when they’re not busy napping.
Lini then went to the kiln and put the glass blowing rod into it, collecting a blob of molten green glass. He wore gloves, but there were old burns on his arms above the glove cuff. He blew into the cloth mouthpiece of the iron rod carefully, and Kjartan gasped as the bubble expanded. Lini spun it round and held a tool to it, shaping it into a symmetrical bowl shape. When finished, he put it into the low-heated oven so it would cool down slowly and not crack. He then repeated the process a few more times.
By this time, Kjartan had completely forgotten what he was talking about and stood just gazing, mesmerised.
“It’s wholly different to fighting in a battle, yes?” Lini smiled and wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm. “Quite calming.”
Kjartan just nodded, staring at the sweat running down Lini’s tanned back.
“So, the fighting school? You got as far as saying what you were going to teach them.”
“Oh. Yes. I’ll think of something.” It was far too hot in the forge and stopped his mind from working properly.
Note: Kjartan the Gentle Series: Tales of Forbidden Love From the Danelaw, book 3. This is the only M/M book of the trilogy and can be read as a standalone.
53 – You meet a time traveler who will take you ‘anywhen’. Do you go to the past or the future?
The past. Medieval or Victorian times are the ones that most interest me. I wonder, if we are obsessed with a certain historical period, does that mean we used to be someone in that period and have been reincarnated over and over until now?
About the author:
Catherine L Byrne amused herself writing as a hobby for some years until she had her daughter, but becoming a mum made her realise she now had a purpose and time was limited, so she must get on with writing seriously.
The winter of 2009 was severe and as she and her family live in a small village, they were house bound by unusually deep snow for southern England. So she settled down in her office (i.e. the corner of her bedroom) and began her first book, which was published in 2010.
She hasn’t stopped writing since, generally on the theme of forbidden or unrequited love, and often including erotic scenes.
My new book, The Altered, was released yesterday. Its a paranormal romance, set twenty years after a laboratory pathogen contaminated the UK water supply.
The two main characters, Daniel and Jordan, both moved to London for the anonymity of a big city, but their lives are very different.
Daniel lives with his best mate, Matt, who he’s known since childhood, and Ash. He’s suspicious by nature as a result of the change, and his treatment by other altereds has left him bitter.
When I started writing this story I had a vague image of what I wanted him to look like. He has silver-blond hair as a result of being altered, sort of like Spike from Buffy, but taller and with less pronounced cheekbones. Although I love Spike, I pictured Daniel as more of a young-ish Leonardo Dicaprio.
Jordan’s whole being was affected by the change. The pathogen not only increased his strength, but his senses as well. He’s fiercely loyal, but possessive–although he tries hard not to come across as overbearing and controlling.
Jordan is dangerous if crossed, but is also someone who can be trusted without question if you were on his side. The guy on the cover for this book is pretty much what I was going for, and Natasha Snow did a great job with it 🙂
He laughed at the joke Matt was in the middle of telling, chipping in for a bit and teasing him, and then he felt it again, creeping up the back of his spine like icy fingers. Daniel stayed perfectly still, suppressing his body’s natural reaction, and carefully turned to place his empty pint glass on the bar.
He let his gaze wander along to the end of the bar, past the couple he’d spotted earlier, and—
Bloody Hell.
He sucked in a sharp breath before he could stop himself. Usually he got a flash of images, depending on how much they’d been altered—claws, teeth, and fur if they changed fully, but never anything like this. One minute Daniel was looking at a tall dark-haired, really hot man, and in the blink of an eye he’d changed into a huge black wolf, fangs bared in a snarl—clearer than anything he’d seen before.
The image vanished almost as soon as it appeared, and the noise from the bar suddenly jarred Daniel back to his senses.
Fuck.
Blurb:
Twenty years ago the UK’s water supply was contaminated with an experimental pathogen, Lycanaeris, causing widespread panic across the nation. Terrorism was suspected but never proven, and when nothing happened–no epidemic, no unexplained illnesses–the whole episode was written off as an elaborate hoax. But Lycanaeris was selective. Only those of a certain age, and with a specific gene in their DNA were infected. Time would reveal the pathogen’s true nature, when those susceptible grew up Altered.
Daniel is one of thousands forced to hide his altered status by living a quiet life. He’s not like the others, though. Daniel can’t help looking so distinctive or being able to see every altered for what they really are. To those abducting altereds, that skill makes him valuable.
For Jordan, shifting from human to wolf means living under the radar to avoid unwanted attention. Meeting Daniel complicates matters. Daniel’s existence is a threat to Jordan and his friends, but Jordan can’t seem to shake the strange connection between them. When danger threatens, there’s little time for Daniel and Jordan to work out their feelings before lives are at stake.
Author Bio
Annabelle Jacobs lives in the South West of England with her husband, three rowdy children, and two cats.
An avid reader of fantasy herself for many years, Annabelle now spends her days writing her own stories. They’re usually either fantasy or paranormal fiction, because she loves building worlds filled with magical creatures, and creating stories full of action and adventure. Her characters may have a tough time of it—fighting enemies and adversity—but they always find love in the end.
“How about you? Did you always want to be a writer?”
“Yeah. I think I did.” He finally gives up on work completely and closes the laptop. “I mean. I guess what I write about is kind of pointless, but I wanted to be a poet once upon a time, so I guess it could be even more pointless,” he jokes.
Benji’s eyebrows knot. “It’s not. Why would it be pointless?”
Simon gives a humorless laugh. “I mean, I write a sex column for women. Not exactly moving prose or hard-hitting journalism.”
Benji scoots over little on the desk, sitting with his legs so close to where Simon is sitting low in his chair that he can smell Benji’s crisp laundry detergent and citrusy soap. He suddenly has to fight the urge to move a fraction to the left, press his nose to the inside seam of Benji’s jeans and breathe him in.
“You listen to people. You remind them that they’re valuable and worthy of love and respect. How is that not important?” Simon is struck speechless, chest tight and breath caught. Then Benji claps him on the shoulder and hops off the desk. “Come on. Let’s go have lunch.”
Pages or Words: 228 Pages
Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
More than anything I want the readers of Spice to come away from the story with a sense of happiness. In a genre that sways towards heavy drama and heartache, I wanted to offer something fun and funny, and a look at a relationship that’s about two people who genuinely like and take pleasure in one another.
The overall message would probably be that a relationship itself can be a compelling story. I wanted to take the standard story beats of a Rom Com, make it a little more modern and honest, and then take it beyond that: What happens after the happily ever after? I wanted to settle into this relationship and bring the reader inside. What does this committed relationship look like? How does it feel? What are the ups and downs and joys and sorrows within it? I want readers to fall in love with Simon and fall in love with Benji right along with him. And then I want them to fall in love with their relationship.
Stories about heartache and angst are important, and interesting, and certainly something I enjoy. But with Spice I really started from a place of wanting something that was fun and joyful, and I believe that not only is there room in the romance genre for this sort of story, but that it’s important and interesting and the type of narrative I wish I’d seen more of when I was figuring out what love looks like. If a reader comes away at the end of Spice with a smile on their face, then that’s more than enough of a message for me.
Author Bio:
Lilah Suzanne has been writing actively since the sixth grade, when a literary magazine published her essay about an uncle who lost his life to AIDS. A freelance writer, she also authored a children’s book and has a devoted following in the online fan community.
The East Terrace had clear views of the city and the hills in the distance, and the setting sun bathed the world in hues of red, purple, and orange. “One of the best views from the palace,” Ollie said. “Guests aren’t usually allowed here.”
Kai glanced back to the door. “Will we get in trouble?”
“No, Menish is a personal friend. He won’t mind.”
“Must be good to have a friend who rules the city.”
Ollie chuckled. “We went to school together. I often have to remind myself that he’s the sultan and not the kid who helped me toilet paper the housemaster’s study windows.”
“Very good friends.”
Ollie didn’t think Kai needed to know just how good a friend Menish had been at one point, although what they had enjoyed was nothing more serious than teenage exploration. “Put it this way: he’d have no problem with me showing you this terrace.”
“The sunset is quite beautiful,” Kai said, turning to face it, and Ollie thought Kai wanted to steer the conversation away from Menish.
“Yes. It changes through the seasons, but I think this is my favorite time of year.”
“Then I am fortunate we chose this time to visit and a place on the mission became available.”
Kai’s choice of word in calling his visit a mission was a little strange, but Ollie thought better of mentioning anything. “Oh, you were. The festival to celebrate the end of harvest starts in a few days, and the city is awash with stalls and street entertainment.”
Kai turned back to him, cocked his head to one side, and smiled. “Perhaps you would agree to be my guide for that as well?”
The hopeful expression and the slight smile made Ollie swallow thickly as he stared into Kai’s dark brown eyes in the failing light. Kai bit his bottom lip and tilted his head back a little to look Ollie in the eye, making Ollie lick his own lips involuntarily. His hand twitched to cup Kai’s cheek and rub his thumb across his cheekbone to prove his hypothesis that Kai’s skin would be soft and warm to the touch.
The little voice in the back of his head returned, and it bluntly reminded Ollie he wasn’t a single man. The pang of guilt made him turn away, and he saw a confused look on Kai’s face. Not only was he in danger of betraying Rica, but he was also leading Kai along on a dance that Kai didn’t know Ollie already had a partner for.
He stepped away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Kai. I can’t do this. While I can’t deny you have caught my eye like no one else, I am not the type of man to be unfaithful.” There, he’d said it, made it clear he was attached, and Kai’s expression morphed first to confusion and then into hurt. “I don’t understand.”
“I have a boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” asked Kai weakly.
“His name is Rica. He’s away at sea.” The devastation on Kai’s face almost made Ollie step closer and gather him into his arms, but he forced himself to put more distance between them. “I’m sorry, Kai. I was so wrapped up in the connection we seemed to share I lost sight of things. I should never have let it get this far, and I must stop it going further.”
“I see.” Kai turned away. “I wish you a good evening, Mr. Gyin. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to enjoy the view a little longer before I find one of the servants to show me to my room.”
“Of course. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Kai didn’t reply, and Ollie retreated back inside, part of his mind protesting that he was going the wrong way, the other part telling him he was doing the right thing. He turned back to see Kai still standing on the terrace, his head bent. Ollie fled, fearing that if he stayed a moment longer he’d do something he’d really enjoy but regret later.
Rebecca Cohen is a Brit abroad. Having swapped the Thames for the Rhine, she has left London behind and now lives with her husband and young son in Basel, Switzerland. She can often be found with a pen in one hand and a cup of Darjeeling in the other.
Short Interview:
Kimi-Chan:
What character in ‘Under Glass’ was your favorite?
Without hesitation I’d say Kai. In ‘Under Glass’, certain people are born with an organ called a caerellon. The caerellon governs a biological process called psychogenetics which links an individual with their perfect partner. Kai thinks he has lost his true love and has made the best of it by joining the novices, giving him the chance to learn to build and look after the planets. But it hasn’t been easy for him, having been bullied at school and pitied for losing his true love. He is pretty resilient. I loved reuniting him with Ollie, but I’m afraid the path of true love doesn’t run smooth.
Did the story go exactly as you expected, or did the characters drag you off in a different direction?
I’m what you could call a plotter, and I planned a lot of the story before I started writing with most of the big elements in place. What did happen was I had to move a few things around and change the order to help the flow and pace of the overall story.
What do you hope people get out of ‘Under Glass’?
On paper, reuniting Kai and Ollie should mean they get their true love. But as you can imagine it’s not that simple. Here I wanted to show that just because you think you deserve something doesn’t mean you don’t have to work for it. But something precious is worth the wait and work needed to achieve it.
The East Terrace had clear views of the city and the hills in the distance, and the setting sun bathed the world in hues of red, purple, and orange. “One of the best views from the palace,” Ollie said. “Guests aren’t usually allowed here.”
Kai glanced back to the door. “Will we get in trouble?”
“No, Menish is a personal friend. He won’t mind.”
“Must be good to have a friend who rules the city.”
Ollie chuckled. “We went to school together. I often have to remind myself that he’s the sultan and not the kid who helped me toilet paper the housemaster’s study windows.”
“Very good friends.”
Ollie didn’t think Kai needed to know just how good a friend Menish had been at one point, although what they had enjoyed was nothing more serious than teenage exploration. “Put it this way: he’d have no problem with me showing you this terrace.”
“The sunset is quite beautiful,” Kai said, turning to face it, and Ollie thought Kai wanted to steer the conversation away from Menish.
“Yes. It changes through the seasons, but I think this is my favorite time of year.”
“Then I am fortunate we chose this time to visit and a place on the mission became available.”
Kai’s choice of word in calling his visit a mission was a little strange, but Ollie thought better of mentioning anything. “Oh, you were. The festival to celebrate the end of harvest starts in a few days, and the city is awash with stalls and street entertainment.”
Kai turned back to him, cocked his head to one side, and smiled. “Perhaps you would agree to be my guide for that as well?”
The hopeful expression and the slight smile made Ollie swallow thickly as he stared into Kai’s dark brown eyes in the failing light. Kai bit his bottom lip and tilted his head back a little to look Ollie in the eye, making Ollie lick his own lips involuntarily. His hand twitched to cup Kai’s cheek and rub his thumb across his cheekbone to prove his hypothesis that Kai’s skin would be soft and warm to the touch.
The little voice in the back of his head returned, and it bluntly reminded Ollie he wasn’t a single man. The pang of guilt made him turn away, and he saw a confused look on Kai’s face. Not only was he in danger of betraying Rica, but he was also leading Kai along on a dance that Kai didn’t know Ollie already had a partner for.
He stepped away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Kai. I can’t do this. While I can’t deny you have caught my eye like no one else, I am not the type of man to be unfaithful.” There, he’d said it, made it clear he was attached, and Kai’s expression morphed first to confusion and then into hurt. “I don’t understand.”
“I have a boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” asked Kai weakly.
“His name is Rica. He’s away at sea.” The devastation on Kai’s face almost made Ollie step closer and gather him into his arms, but he forced himself to put more distance between them. “I’m sorry, Kai. I was so wrapped up in the connection we seemed to share I lost sight of things. I should never have let it get this far, and I must stop it going further.”
“I see.” Kai turned away. “I wish you a good evening, Mr. Gyin. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to enjoy the view a little longer before I find one of the servants to show me to my room.”
“Of course. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Kai didn’t reply, and Ollie retreated back inside, part of his mind protesting that he was going the wrong way, the other part telling him he was doing the right thing. He turned back to see Kai still standing on the terrace, his head bent. Ollie fled, fearing that if he stayed a moment longer he’d do something he’d really enjoy but regret later.
About the author:
Rebecca Cohen is a Brit abroad. Having swapped the Thames for the Rhine, she has left London behind and now lives with her husband and young son in Basel, Switzerland. She can often be found with a pen in one hand and a cup of Darjeeling in the other.
Excerpt:
Because anything really could happen, couldn’t it? What if what happened in Philadelphia wasn’t a total mistake, but simply the prelude to Jake finally listening to what his instincts have been telling him for weeks? What if, what if, what if…
“What are you doing? Come see this!” Aiden calls out.
Jake takes a deep breath and steps out of the shadows. Aiden is silhouetted against the fading sun, the light picking out the auburn in his hair, and as he stretches his arms up over his head, one finger hooked through the woven bracelet he bought earlier, he grins out at the horizon. Jake feels as if he’s watching Aiden through brand new eyes; he knows that there is rescue in those arms. Suddenly he wants to fall into them and hold on until he feels safe.
Aiden turns away from the vista, pushes his sunglasses up on top of his head and looks down at Jake, his eyes sparkling with warmth and light. He leans forward and holds out his hand, and he looks… beautiful.
Author Bio:
Mimsy Hale has been a contributing ghostwriter to several bestselling nonfiction books. She is also an established writer in online fan communities, where her stories have hundreds of thousands of reads. 100 Days is her first novel. She lives in Suffolk, England, with her roommate and four cats.
Where to find the author: http://www.mimsyhale.co.uk
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/themimsyhale
Twitter: @mimsyhale
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/mimsyhale/
Publisher: Interlude Press
Cover Artist: Front cover concept by Abbi Lawson
Cover design by Buckeyegrrl Designs
Taber Delane is lucky be alive, but his career as a firefighter ended the day a beam snapped resulting in a crushing spinal injury. Most of his friends are willing to give him space, everyone except paramedic, Deacon Hall.
Deacon hasn’t met a challenge he couldn’t tackle and he knows Taber needs someone in his corner who isn’t afraid to stand up to the big bad fireman. The longer he’s around Taber, the more the sexy vulnerability of the man comes through. Deacon finds he doesn’t just want to be Taber’s live in caregiver, he wants a chance at the passionate man beneath the stubborn shell.
A shell that is cracking, no matter what Taber tries to hold it together. Without knowing how, Deacon being in his home starts to open his eyes to the man Deacon hides from the rest of the world and Taber craves to know more. A lot more.
Now if only Deacon can get Taber to see that it isn’t so bad having him there to assist. Even if sometimes Taber is naked, dripping wet, and angry as hell.
Pages or Words: 43,556 words
Excerpt:
“You’re not giving me a sponge bath,” Taber snapped and glowered at Deacon as he wheeled himself into the locker bay. The sweat ran down his temples, his shirt soaked through with it. He took in his motionless legs and grimaced before shooting Deacon another irritated look.
Deacon sat with his feet on one of the peeling dark blue benches, his back reclined against a bank of gray lockers along the far wall in the physical therapy building. A book was balanced on his knees, and black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His shaggy auburn hair fell to curl around his ears in disarray.
Deacon peered at him with pale green eyes. “There go my dreams of rubbing you down and tweeting the pics.”
About the author:
Draven St. James is a born and raised Oregonian. She has traveled extensively in search of mischief and mayhem to fill her books. Her ventures have been quite successful in inspiring a wealth of stories. Of course at the end of the day, coffee within reach, laptop at the ready is where she finds her peace.
Where to find the author:
About the author:
Title: Family Jewels
I’m Mj O’Shea 🙂 I grew up, and still live, in sunny Washington state and while I love to visit other places, I can’t imagine calling anywhere else home.
