Temper, meet brick wall.....

Showing posts with label Guest blogger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guest blogger. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Ladies and Gentlement - Neil Plakcy


 
One of the things my critique group believes in is that when you bring a character on stage for the first time, he or she needs at least a brief bit of description. Sounds reasonable, right? Give folks a visual to go along with the character’s name and actions, and help distinguish him or her from the others on stage.

I’m surprised now, after over thirty published novels, that I used to miss that basic principle in my earlier books. I’ll be working on the next book in a series and jump back to the last book to see what I’d said—and discover that the character walked on and off without a word of description.

So description has become one of those things I’ve trained my brain to do. Every time a new character walks on, give him or her some particular detail that establishes the character in the reader’s mind.

Here’s the opening paragraph from my latest M/M romance, A Cold Wind:

Slava Vishinev leaned back in the giant Roman tub of his luxury apartment in the Palazzo Raphael, at the edge of the Mediterranean in Monaco. He let the warm water slosh over his beefy thighs and then up, submerging his thick penis, then covering his broad chest. It was still a good body, he thought, though gray hairs had invaded his pubic thatch and the shag beneath his pecs. Too bad there was no one to see it.

I like the way the character is introduced doing something, even if it’s just taking a bath, and by including details of his gray hair, I can establish that he’s an older man without citing a particular age.

I try to use interesting language in descriptions, especially when they come so early in the book. Verbs like slosh, submerging and invaded add some oomph to the picture I’m painting.

Description can also indicate the attitude of the point of view character. Here’s the way Aidan Greene, one of the two heroes of the Have Body, Will Guard series looks at his partner:

Liam’s body was so well-sculpted it was like being up close and naked with Michelangelo’s David, though in flesh rather than stone. Broad shoulders, beefy biceps, a narrow waist, and a dick that was generous even in repose. His ass was tight, his thighs and calves well-muscled. Sure, some of his blond chest hairs had faded to white, and occasionally his bones creaked, but he was still the most amazing man Aidan had ever been with.

 

Can you tell that aging is one of the themes of the book?

Sometimes I can get away with using dialogue for description, as in this case, where Aidan and Liam’s neighbor, Thierry, is showing their little dog Hayam around his house:

He stood up, holding the dog in his arms, and began introducing her to Gabriel. “See how I am so skinny and Gabriel, he had more weight on him,” he said, pointing at one photo. “We had friends who said they reminded us of the American comedians, Laurel and Hardy.”

The technique Thierry is using is one I teach in my English lit classes, called “allusion,” which means referring to some shared cultural reference. I’m depending on the reader knowing who Laurel and Hardy are.

The best details, in my opinion, are ones that serve multiple purposes. For example, in this introduction of one of the regular supporting characters, a Tunisian-born architect named Hassan:

Louis’s husband was a slim man with skin the color of milky coffee, his dark hair artfully styled to cover a small bald spot. He was a few inches shorter than Aidan.

I’ve gotten across a couple of things here—first, these two men are married, or at least comfortable enough with each other to use the term husband. In addition to his general look I’ve established that he’s a bit vain—the way his hair is “artfully styled to cover a small bald spot.”

So I believe that my critique group is correct when they point out missing descriptions, because there’s so much more that be conveyed than simple details.

Please snag your copy of A COLD WIND at Loose Id here

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

[Guest Blogger] How about a little SUNSHINE and LOVE?


Thanks so much for having me on your blog with my new release Sunshine and Love. Like all of the MM stories I’ve written so far this one took me by surprise.

I’d found a yummy man candy pic to share with my reader group the RavDor Chicks. This hunk to be precise.

I wondered what hero he might be, and in our ensuing brainstorming session we came up with the following. He was a Dom, struggling with who he was. A single dad in need of a nanny. Oh and wouldn’t it be cool if this was a MM….

That’s all it took for my muse to sit up, rub her hands in glee, and force my fingers to the keyboard.
Sunshine and Love was born, and I had oodles of fun, and also shed a tear or two in the writing of this story. Hopefully, you lovely readers will go through the same emotions.

As an aside, if you’ve read Under his Boss, you will also recognize a few familiar names, as they make an appearance in this story. J

Now, to quote Jordan…Sunshine and Love is all you need….

Blurb:

He needs a nanny not a submissive…

Aaron Gibson is struggling with his many hats—single dad, business owner, Dom. His desperate search for a suitable nanny for his daughter Sunshine grinds to a halt when Jordan Carole walks into his office.

This inked biker is certainly not your ordinary kind of nanny, but the man’s instant rapport with his daughter convinces Aaron that Jordan is perfect for the job. All Aaron has to do is keep his hands off his nanny—simple, right?

Well, it would be if the two men could ignore the combustible, sexual tension between them. Jordan wants nothing more than to be allowed to take care of his new boss and his adorable baby.

If only he could convince the stubborn man that Sunshine and Love is all they need.

Adult Excerpt:
This close to the man he loved Jordan lost his composure, and before he could lose his bottle, he smashed his lips over Aaron’s. The other man’s surprised grunt granted him access, and Jordan wasted no time in slipping his tongue past the cool lips he’d been fantasizing over for weeks now, and deepened the kiss. The very scent and essence of Aaron Gibson exploded on his taste buds, and when Aaron kissed him back, the last semblance of rational reasoning fled Jordan’s brain. Tongues dueling and teeth clashing, this wasn’t just a kiss. It was punishment and connection all rolled into each other, as Jordan put all of his emotions into the frantic and ever more passionate kiss. When he ground his erection into his boss’s groin, and felt the equally hard ridge of his employer’s own need, he pulled away to study him. Aaron’s azure gaze was almost black, as his pupils dilated in his arousal, and chests heaving, they stared at each other.
“Fuck, we can’t do this.”
Aaron’s strangled groan broke the last of Jordan’s restraint, and he grasped hold of the other man’s stiff cock. Even through the fabric separating him from his prize, the heat of Aaron’s shaft branded him, and his boss groaned when he rubbed the flat of his palm up down Aaron’s dick.
“Dammit, stop.”
“No, I won’t. I want to taste you, Sir.”
Jordan dropped to his knees and closing his eyes, nuzzled into Aaron’s groin. Aaron’s hiss in answer and the way the man’s hands fisted in his hair made him bolder, and pulling away he looked up at his boss, while running his hand slowly up his thighs. The muscles bunched under his fingertips, and Aaron groaned and shook his head when Jordan reached his belt buckle and slowly undid it.
“Fuck, you really don’t have to do this. I … fuuuck.”
Jordan grinned as he pulled down the zipper, and reaching into Aaron’s boxer briefs, pulled out his boss’s cock, and licked across Aaron’s sensitive cock head.
The pressure on his scalp increased, and the slight pain fueled his own arousal, as did the drop of pre-cum that appeared on the slit of his lover’s magnificent dick. Aaron’s cock hardened further in Jordan’s fist, as he slid it slowly up and down Aaron’s thick and heavily veined shaft. The action pulled the other man’s foreskin back, and Jordan licked around the exposed, swollen head. A deep groan and yet more of the other man’s musk was his reward. Bringing his free hand up to fondle his boss’s heavy balls, he grasped the base of Aaron’s peen and hollowing out his cheeks, took as much of him in his mouth as he could.
Jordan closed his eyes and gave himself up to the heady sense of power that being on his knees and going down on another man always gave him, as he drank in Aaron’s unique spicy, salty musk, content in the knowledge that at this moment in time, the man was his and his alone.
When he came up for air, grazing his teeth along the sensitive flesh in his mouth as he let go of Aaron’s cock, he glanced up and grinned at the man who was watching his every move through hooded eyelids.
“Still think we shouldn’t be doing this, Sir?” he asked with a smirk, and gasped when Aaron yanked his head back by his hair.
“Watch the sass, boy, and finish what you fucking started, before I come all over your face, and then tan your damn insolent ass for not taking no for an answer.”
The strain behind those few words spoke of Aaron’s need for him, and Jordan grinned around his mouthful of cock, as he went back down on his boss. Aaron swore when his cock hit the back of Jordan’s throat, and he swallowed around it.
“Fuck yes, just like that.” With those growled words the last of Aaron’s restraint broke, as he took over, and hands buried in Jordan’s hair, fucked his mouth with total abandonment. Relaxing his throat muscles Jordan relished in the feel of being used for this man’s pleasure, and gave himself over to the satisfaction to be found in that. The pain in his dick added to the sensation overload, as did the sound of the door opening, and the soft feminine gasp that barely registered over the roaring in his ears. He was so damn close to coming in his pants like a randy teenager it wasn’t even real and the knowledge that someone—no doubt Nicole—was watching him go down on Aaron made the whole thing ten times hotter.
Grasping hold of Aaron’s ass cheeks he renewed his efforts to make the other man come, and when the muscular globes clenched under his digits, and Aaron thrust into Jordan’s mouth in one last, un-coordinated move that threatened to cut off Jordan’s air supply, he knew he had him.
With a muffled groan, Aaron shot his cum down the back of Jordan’s throat, and he did his best to swallow the other man’s seed. The pressure on his head let up, enabling Jordan to pull back slightly, and Aaron’s furious curse bounced through the room, even as his cock continued to pulse inside Jordan’s mouth and he continued to milk the last few drops out of his lover’s junk.
“I’m so sorry. I … I’m sorry.” Nicole’s bumbling apology registered as Aaron pulled his cock out of Jordan’s mouth and yanked his trousers back up with another muttered curse.
Jordan couldn’t help it. Looking across at a red-faced Nicole who still peered at them through the slightly open door to Aaron’s office he winked at her and burst out laughing when she turned even redder and shut the door.
“This isn’t fucking funny.”


Story Excerpt:

Aaron swiped the unwelcome tears off his face and hugged the precious bundle in his arms tighter.
“Sorry, kiddo, it’s just you, me and Auntie Kenna now.” His daughter screwed up her little button nose, as though she was disgusted with that idea, and Aaron laughed.
“Yeah, I know, not the most appealing process, is it baby girl?”
“I don’t know, that depends on your view point.” The deep gravelly voice with the hint of an accent he couldn’t place shook Aaron out of his morose thoughts, and he spun round to face the intruder to his office. He was all ready to give him a piece of his mind, but the words stuck to the roof of his mouth, when he took in the new arrival.
At least six foot three of lean muscle, the stranger smiled at him. The action exposed enticing dimples in his hard jaw. It was the incongruous sight of this man holding Sunshine’s bottle in one hand, and a motorbike helmet in the other, however, that really got to Aaron.
The biker put down his helmet, shrugged out of his jacket, and taking the lid of Sunshine’s bottle, tipped it to test the temperature of her feed on his wrist. The action exposed the swirling designs of this man’s ink, and his biceps flexed as he ran a hand through his straggly brown hair, and then took a step toward Aaron.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I was waiting outside and couldn’t help but overhear. As your assistant was busy showing the so called nanny out, I took the liberty of finishing off the baby’s bottle. If you hand her over, I’ll feed her. The way she’s sucking on that fist, she’ll erupt any minute now, and knowing babies, we won’t be able to hear ourselves think, let alone try and have a conversation, Sir.”
The unexpected intonation on the title further caught Aaron off guard, and he handed Sunshine over without protest, when the biker stepped so close that his scent invaded Aaron’s nostrils. Sunshine, leather, oil, and that unmistakable aroma of virile man that meant most of Aaron’s blood shot south, and his dick sat up and took notice. A most unwelcome development, considering where they were, and the fact that this man was currently feeding little Sunshine with a practiced ease that spoke of years of experience.
“Right, yes, and you are?” he asked. The biker flashed him another quick grin, before he dropped his gaze to Aaron’s collarbone and kept it there. The inherently submissive tell meant that Aaron grew hard as nails, and clearing his throat, Aaron sought refuge behind his desk to hide his body’s reaction to this man. He gestured to the chair opposite for biker man to sit down, and after another quick glance up the stranger did so.
“Jordan Carole, and your four o’clock appointment, I believe. At least that’s when Kenna said I should come here,” he said. “I was waiting my turn when everything seemed to kick off, and pardon me saying, Sir, I’m mighty glad you kicked that sorry excuse of a nanny out of here. Fancy wanting to put a newborn on a feeding schedule, let alone a preemie. The daftest thing I ever did hear.”
He glanced up again, rewarding Aaron with a glimpse of warm, amber eyes, which crinkled up into laughter lines. This was a man who smiled easily, and despite appearances clearly knew what he was doing, if the contented sucking noises coming from Sunshine were anything to go by.
“Quite so.” Aaron said, and Jordan smiled, put the bottle on the desk, and lifted the baby up to wind her.
“She doesn’t wind easily.” His daughter called Aaron a liar, when she immediately gave a huge burp, and Aaron shook his head in amazement.
“How the hell did you do that? It takes me hours to get her to burp, let alone take a freaking bottle, and then the minute we’re finished she wants another one.”
“Ah, can’t tell you that, Sir. Trade secret, see.”
Jordan Carole winked at him, and then turned his attention back to Sunshine.
“Like I said I couldn’t help but overhear your earlier exchange, and if you’re looking for a more holistic approach to bringing up your daughter, than I’m your man, so to speak.”
Aaron groaned under his breath at the erotic images that immediately assaulted his brain at those innocent enough words, and he picked up the stack of CVs on his desk. Anything to take his mind out of the gutter. Sure enough there on the top, sat the CV of one Carole, Jordan. He’d assumed the applicant was a woman, not one prime specimen of male hunk that reminded Aaron of how long it had been since he’d last had sex. Way before Sunshine’s mum Hope had found the first lump, that’s for sure. She’d been just eight weeks into her much wanted pregnancy then.
Aaron cleared his throat to get rid of the lump of emotion lodged in his throat, and when he looked up it was to find Jordan watching him.
“I’m truly sorry for your loss. Kenna filled me in on the details, and as I’m available right now, she thought I might be the solution you’re looking for. As you can see I have plenty of experience, and I would be more than happy to serve you … I mean your daughter, Sir.”
Buy Links:  Evernight  Amazon  Amazon UK
For all other Buy links please check the book page here.

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Author bio
Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get.  From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Happily married for the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.
Stalk her in these places

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                 http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B015NCZUQI







Friday, July 17, 2015

VEXED anyone?

Thanks for sharing in the release of my first full-length novel! I hope you enjoy reading about Kena and Luc as much as I enjoyed writing them. There's plenty of action, adventure, romance, and Vodou for everyone!
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I did a little Q&A about the book:

  Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters? Originally the story was going to be completely different when I wrote the first 5000 words or so of the book. But after I came back from the 2014 Romantic Times convention in New Orleans, I was inspired to write something with a Vodou/NOLA flair. So the book took a twist and became so much more than I ever imagined. I wanted a strong heroine and an alpha male. But Luc ended up being more of an Alpha/Beta blend. He's not really one or the other. He's quite complex. Kena ended up being a witty heroine who took things into her own hands.

  Q) Do you have any habits that get you in the writing frame of mind? Music is my biggest influence. I listened to mainly instrumental gaming soundtracks while writing. But one of my Critique Partners burned me a CD of music she thought would be perfect for this book, and it was filled with great songs by The Black Keys, Rolling Stones, Zepplin, Jack White and Muse. It ended up really making scenes come alive for me.

Q) How much real life do you put into or influences your books? In this book I tried to make the characters reflect their Vodou based deities. I did take some artistic liberties and spun a few things, but I did a lot of research to make sure a lot of the intricacies of their actual descriptions and quirks made it into the story. VEXED-evernightpublishing-JayAheer2015-finalimages  

Vodou stole her life. A gay ghost stole her boots. And the man who stole her heart stole her memories. Kena plans to get it all back.

Ex-cop Kena's life is filled with regret, beer, and Cheetos. That is, until her ghostly roomie sends her dumpster diving, leading her to a sexy stranger named Luc and a fate she'd rather not remember. As Kena's memories resurface, so do her feelings for Luc, the man she's secretly been in love with for the last thousand years. And he needs her for more than a stroll down memory lane.

Vodou spirits, known as Loa, have been trapped in human form, and are trying to make their way back to the spirit world. But Luc's brother is possessed by a vengeance demon conjured at the hands of NOLA's crime syndicate kingpin. Saving him means damning herself to a spirit prison in a loveless, arranged union with the very man she's supposed to rescue. But not helping Luc's brother sentences him to death, leaving New Orleans in the hands of black magick, and losing Luc forever.
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excerptCHANGEOFHEART
After stripping out of the wet clothes, I wrapped the towel around myself and wandered out to his room. On the bed lay a white long-sleeve button-down shirt. With a hard swallow, I dropped the towel and picked up the shirt, pulling it to my face. I took a long, hard sniff. Laundry detergent. Of course. Did I think it would smell like him?
Like he'd give you a dirty shirt to wear, Kena.
Thankful he didn't witness me in idiot-mode, I slid myself into the shirt and was caught mid-button when he knocked at the door.
“Are you decent?” He pushed the door open a crack.
“I'm clothed, if that's what you mean. Decent is debatable at the moment.” Purposely leaving the top three buttons undone, I worked my way to the bottom button as he walked in.
He halted mid-stride and looked at me. His chest rose and fell in quick spurts, training his eyes over me from head to toe. Veins traversed the length of his arm as he clenched his fists at his sides. “I don't wear underwear, so I apologize I have no bottoms. It's all I had that was long enough to cover you.” His position relaxed as he leaned against the mahogany armoire.
“Anything's better than cold, sopping-wet clothes.” I ran a finger through my hair, now slowly drying into loose stringy curls.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened tonight?” Folding his arms across his broad chest, bulging muscles stretched the navy-blue fabric barely covering his biceps.
I shook my head. “Not until I get some honesty from you, big guy.”
With a tilt of his head, he donned a sly grin. “You haven't asked the right questions.”
“Is this a game for you? Do you enjoy messing with people's lives? Do you get off on some fucked-up high being in total control?” My fingernails burrowed into the palm of my hand. Everything in me wanted to slap the shit out of him and then ride him like a cowboy.
He pushed off the dresser and walked over to me, lowering his head coming to a stop inches from my face. “You're the one in control and yet you refuse to acknowledge it. You refuse to let your mind accept it. Stop playing and start being.”
“What do you want from me?” I yelled, a little louder than intended.
“I want you to be you. I want you to”—he stopped and dropped his gaze to my lips, and then slowly made his way back up to my eyes—“come back.”
“Kiss me.” The words rushed from my lips without another thought. My heart hammered so hard in my chest I thought it would shatter my rib cage.
His breathing quickened. A low growl rumbled in his throat. “Don't do this to me, Kena.”
“Don't do what? You're the one doing things to me.” I slammed my hands against his chest and he sailed across the room, his back hitting the dresser behind him. “Shit! I'm sorry.” I reached out for him with a trembling hand.
Fuck, I’d done it again.
He shook his head and straightened himself up. In a blur of movement, he shot across the room and grabbed onto either side of my shirt, yanking me up to his face. “You want me to kiss you?”
“Yes,” I said in more of whooshing sound than a word.
He pressed his lips against my neck and his fingers curled into the fabric of the shirt, pulling me onto my tiptoes. “You don't even know who I am.”
“I don't care.” Words no longer made sense to me, only his touch spoke a language I could understand.
He laughed as he pushed me against the wall. Gripping the back of my head with the entire palm of his hand, he splayed the other across my cheek, his thumb resting against my jawline. Tilting my head back, he hovered his lips over mine. “You will.”
His lips crushed against my mouth.
With a sweep of his tongue, he devoured me into a kiss the likes of which I've never experienced before in my life. He punished my mouth with his tongue, sliding it over mine in a delicious dance of ecstasy and aggression. His hold on me was not that of violence, but of passion. The way his fingertips eased against my face, yet held me there as if he was scared to let go, revealed a vulnerability. He may be a man of few words who knew how to play the vague card, but his body and actions gave him away.
I arched into him, and he pinned me back against the wall with his hip. Clawing at his shirt, I ripped it out of his jeans and slid my fingers over his heated skin. A surge of energy rushed my fingertips as they glided along his body, electrifying me.
“Fuck, Kena,” he hissed, pulling back from the kiss.
In a movement so fast it blurred everything around me, he shot out the door, slamming it behind him. He left me gasping, clinging to the wall behind me just to remain standing. My legs wobbled like Jell-O as I stumbled to the bed and collapsed. He sucked all the air from my body and replaced it with an ache, a driving need for more of him.
What the hell was he?
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abouttheauthor
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Wren Michaels hails from the frozen tundra of Wisconsin where beer and cheese are their own food groups. But a cowboy swept her off her feet and carried her away below the Mason-Dixon line, where she promptly lost all tolerance for snow and cold. They decided they'd make beautiful babies together and they got it right on the first try. Now Wren lives happily ever after in the real world and in the worlds of her making, where she creates book boyfriends for the masses to crave.

Friday, March 20, 2015

The Death of You by Allyson Young


Margaret Madeline O’Sullivan aka Maddy Powell, is on the run from two really bad guys. In hiding, she ventures out only to a Vantage, a BDSM club, living a lonely, isolated life during the day while exploring her submissive tendencies at night.

Rafe Mason and Connor Gillespie are accomplished Doms, ex-military men who are on the lookout for a submissive who will live with them in a permanent ménage. They set their sights on Maddy, and she finds herself fleeing two really good guys, because while she is incredibly drawn to Rafe and Connor, she will not risk bringing the kind of danger down upon them that she knows is stalking her.

The Doms persist and Maddy resists, until they kidnap her and coax out the truth. Can Rafe and Connor keep her safe? Or will she be the death of them? 


Excerpt: 

Her scream echoing within the confines of the bedroom, Maddy Powell scrabbled amongst the linens, yanking them aside until she could reach the gauzy fabric of the nightgown covering her belly. Now fully awake she pressed her hand against the thin length of raised tissue throbbing with the prickling phantom pain that had catapulted her out of a fitful sleep. No telltale wetness or shards of agony resulted from her tender touch, and she fell back against the pillow, limp with vast relief. Just a flashback of being slashed, then. Not real. Slowing her breathing with every exhale, she rolled her head to check the clock. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep so she clambered off the mattress and headed for the bathroom to shower.

The steaming water rinsed off her favorite soap in bubbly rivulets that coursed over her bountiful curves, but the warmth didn’t prevent a shudder as details contained in the flashback coalesced—Ryker’s evil, curiously handsome features twisted with rage, the slash along the side of his face a seeping crimson streak that soured her stomach and made her falter…and the tables turned. With a gasp she reached to wrench the tap to cold for an instant, and the resulting deluge shocked her mind into neutral, erasing all the images.

Resting her forehead against the tiles, she focused on the night ahead. Club Vantage didn’t really get started until midnight on the weekends, and while she could have used some additional rest, the familiar curls of excitement soon overlaid the crash of adrenaline, building to warm her insides and pool between her legs. Time to choose an outfit and escape her past, even for a few hours. Maybe the Masters who occupied most of her waking thoughts would be there, and she could indulge in the fantasy that they were more to her than one scene. It was a dangerous fantasy, because she suspected they were indulging in the same wishful thinking, and that would never do. But a girl could always dream. Even a girl like her. 



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Friday, March 13, 2015

Iyana Jenna is here!


IT NEVER LEFT
by Iyana Jenna
Published by JMS Books
Genre: Gay Science Fiction Erotic Romance
Length: 10,552 Words
Heat Rating: 3
Release Date: March 15, 2015


Blurb:
After his boyfriend Jonah Wright defeats the alien queen attacking their hometown, Sean Cross thinks everything is solved and things will go back to normal. But normal no longer exists. Jonah and his other friends look and act too good to be true.

Sean's suspicions grow after his search for a boy who stayed in Jonah's house, Ryan Godfrey, turns up nothing. It’s as if Ryan no longer exists. Can Sean save his boyfriend, or will he lose Jonah forever? And perhaps the most important question is -- did the alien queen really die?

Excerpt:
Outside it was dark already but Jonah could still spot a car in the shadow of a tree not far from his house. He closed the door quietly, not wanting to disturb his parents. Luckily they were in the house somewhere -- in the bedroom? -- so he didn’t have to explain himself.

Jonah crept toward the car. After some time he realized it was Sean's car. What is it now?

He could make out Sean's shape sitting behind the wheel. The boy literally jumped when Jonah rapped on the window with his knuckles.

"Jonah!" Sean rolled down the car window.

"What're you doing here?" Jonah hissed, heedless of Sean's reaction.

"Jonah, get in the car." The heedlessness was infectious.

"What? No."

"Wilder, don't make me force you."

"What do you want, Sean?" Jonah felt sweat break out on his brow and his hands felt cold. His heart beat so fast he thought he could pass out at any time. He didn’t remember Sean ever being so harsh to him, but he knew the boy was not a bad person. Jonah could easily trust him just as he trusted every single friend at school. What was this all about?

But first of all he needed to save himself from Sean, who in the meantime had got out of the car.

"S-Sean ..." Jonah whimpered. Before he knew it, a hand lashed out and his wrist was trapped in an unyielding clutch. "Let ... go! Let me go!" But it was hopeless trying to shake Sean’s hand off his. He couldn’t release himself. Sean wouldn’t let him go.

A shriek tore out of Jonah's mouth when Sean suddenly whirled him around and squashed his hand to the small of his back. Another hand clamped over Jonah's mouth.

"I just want you to get in the car, Jonah," Sean whispered in Jonah's ear. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you. Now come."

Sean mustn’t realize that he’d hurt Jonah and frightened him. Shaking violently, Jonah could only submit as he was dragged toward the car. He muttered under Sean’s hand.

"Huh?" Sean said in a low voice, and lowered his hand from Jonah's mouth.


Jonah huffed and turned slightly. "You don't have to do that. I won't make a sound."

Sean released Jonah's wrist as well. He gave a small nudge to Jonah's shoulder. "Sorry, Jonah," he muttered.

Jonah flashed a small smile to say that it was okay, and shifted around to get in the car. Frowning a little, Sean stepped into the car.

"Trust me, Jonah," he said slowly. "I won't hurt you. I just ... "

Jonah stiffened and his eyes bulged as Sean unhurriedly brought his hand toward him.

"Do you want to kill me, Sean?" Jonah quivered, thinking that there was a knife in Sean's hand.

Sean's jaw dropped. "What? No." He showed a spray bottle to Jonah. "Don't you remember? It's pepper spray. Give me your hand."

Jonah complied uneasily. "What are you doing?"

“Jonah, don’t you remember?”

Jonah just stared. He really didn’t get it.

"I’ll just spray a little of it onto your skin, Jonah."

“And?”

“You’ll burn if you’re, well, if you’re ...”

“Burn? If I’m what?” He couldn’t understand Sean. At first he thought no harm would come from the guy, but now he might burn him? What did he actually want from Jonah?

"Sean, I think ... I think you have to go ... mmp!"

All of a sudden Sean clamped a hand over Jonah's mouth, effectively cutting off his words and partly obstructing his breathing. Jonah panicked and began to twist about. But Sean, who was much stronger than him, squashed him to the car seat, and even Jonah's flailing free hands could do little to help him.

Sean seemed to wait for some moments until all Jonah could do was to breathe through his nose. Then he felt something spurted on his skin, and nothing happened. He didn’t know what he’d do or say to Sean, not even to yell at him for having risked burning Jonah’s skin.

Jonah threw a hand over his brow. His head throbbed all of a sudden. "What did you do to me, Sean?" he mumbled. "My head hurts. I ... I can barely see." Jonah scuffled toward the door on the other side, crawling farther away from Sean. "I ... I'm going to be sick."

Buy Links:
JMS Books
Amazon:
All Romance Ebooks:
Bookstrand:
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Author Bio:
Iyana writes M/M short stories and novellas. Her works have been published by Evernight Publishing, JMS Books, Books to Go Now, Torquere Press, Bitten Press, Leap of Faith Publishing, Breathless Press, and Alfie Dog Fiction.

Iyana lives in Jakarta, a city famous for its traffic jams, a lot of cars and motorcycles, and people selling stuff on the roads. You can spend two hours on the road going to a place you can reach in half an hour in a normal situation. Thanks to the traffic jams, though, Iyana can come up with a lot of stories, mostly shorties, as she prefers to spend the time during her trips writing into her cell phone rather than sleeping.

Another thing Iyana loves is kitties. Right now she has three of them. Their names are Cil, Horus, and Betsy, and one kitten. When she doesn’t write, she plays with them, or they would play with her when she writes.

Author Links:


Thursday, March 12, 2015

The Rules - Gale Stanley Ladies and Gents!



THE RULES by Gale Stanley

Genre: contemporary, gay romance, BDSM

The Rules is book one in a new series with Evernight Publishing - 
Scenes from the Underground. The stories take place in the same world, and some characters will return, but each book will be a standalone.

The setting is New York after the elections. The new mayor and his chief of police are fulfilling a campaign promise to clean up the sex industry, and they’re targeting bars that cater to the down and dirty crowd. Kinksters who want to rub elbows and other naughty bits are forced to go underground. A gay man can still find a place to be massaged, whipped, whatever… He just has to know the right people.

The Rules

Blurb

Willis Rice has been a Dom for over ten years, but he has yet to find the perfect submissive to share his dark desires. Maybe he wants too much. He’s looking for the whole package—a partner, a lover, a man who will trust him enough to surrender body and mind.

At an underground sex party, Wil finds the submissive man of his wet dreams. He hopes their scene will lead to more, but Aiden belongs to someone else. When Wil discovers Aiden’s Master is Arthur Wright, chief of police, he knows he should walk away, but he’s hooked. He can’t get Aiden out of his head, and he’ll do anything to get his hands on the boy again.

Available at:



Excerpt

Motherfuck! Wil cursed silently, he never liked losing, but in truth, he wasn’t all that upset. The Thai boy would have been fun but Wil wanted more. He wanted to feel… a spark, chemistry, something. When he spotted the right man, he wouldn’t have to think about it, he’d know immediately. But, it looked like tonight would be another bust. Every time Wil went to one of these parties, he started out with high hopes of meeting someone special, but the evening always ended with him settling for something less. Tonight he might end up completely alone.

Suddenly, a spotlight came on, illuminating an empty platform with a Saint Andrew’s cross at one end. Wil made his way over, and stood in the shadows, waiting for the show. The minutes dragged on, allowing the audience to grow and anticipation to build. Finally, a young man climbed onto the platform, but someone much taller than Wil’s six foot two, stepped in front of him. The Goliath, in jeans and a studded harness, completely blocked Wil’s view. Cursing under his breath, Wil squeezed past Goliath, and edged closer to the stage.

The young man on display pulled a tie from his hair, and released a thick auburn mane that matched his flushed cheeks. His hair glowed like fire under the spotlight, making his blue eyes appear cold by comparison. Wil’s breath caught. In his experience, redheads made the most adventurous, passionate, and yes, dangerous lovers. He’d always been a big believer in first impressions. Usually he made up his mind about a new sub within thirty seconds. Tonight it was closer to fifteen.

Young. Smaller than me. Black muscle shirt. Skinny jeans. Short black combat boots.

The overall look screamed ‘submissive boy looking for a Master’, but Wil saw so much more.

Fearful, yet cocky. Savage, yet sweet. Submissive, yet prideful. Untrained, yet intelligent.

Wil was intrigued.

Who are you? What are you doing here?

Flashing a fake smile, the boy peeled away his shirt. The dusting of red-gold hair between toned pecs gave Wil a boner. He’d never been a big fan of the shaved look. So far, he liked everything he saw. Even watching the redhead pull his boots off was a turn-on. Wil shifted his stance to give his rapidly growing erection some breathing room.

The boy turned his back and shoved his jeans over slim hips. Wil shuddered, imagining that firm, tight, white ass covered with cum after a good hard fucking. The boy turned again, giving Wil a glimpse of the wild bush at his groin. Perfect. The lack of grooming told Wil the boy was probably new to the scene and not tied to anyone. God, what I could teach him… Wil’s gaze fixed on the redhead with a desperate fascination. He knew if he looked away, the boy would disappear like a mirage.

Happy Reading!
Gale Stanley



Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Unbearable - Here comes Wren Michaels

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1. What led you to do a retelling of this story? A friend of mine, Evie Knight, urged me to give Evernight Publishing's Naughty Fairytale line a try. I wanted to do something a little off the beaten fairytale path since everyone does Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, etc. I wanted something not as well known, but still vaguely familiar. So the retelling of Snow White and Rose Red was born.

2. Who would be your celebrity dream cast for Rose and Marcus? Probably Karen Gillan for Rose and David Gandy (with longer hair) for Marcus. I would have said Taylor Kitsch, but my good friend Jenn would shiv me. LOL

Karen Gandy

3. How would you describe your hero? Marcus, my Irish Prince who's cursed by an evil sorcerer to live as a bear by day and man by night. So he's an alpha with some animalistic tendencies. I see a man who is used to being on control and now forced to live in hiding out of his control so he's fighting with himself on a daily basis. It makes him complex and in need of help and Rose is his sanctuary.

4. How would you describe your heroine? Rose is feisty, strong willed, and independent. I tend to write strong female characters. I don't like damsels in distress, I like damsels that cause distress.

5. What can we expect in the sequel? Do you have a release date?

UNBEARABLE is Rose Red's journey, where as the sequel, BAD APPLE, will explore more into Snow's story. The real fairytale of Snow White and Rose Red is a different Snow White than the more common classic version we know from Disney. But for familiarity purposes, I've incorporated a few of the common ideals of Snow White into BAD APPLE, but there's no dwarves.

I don't have a firm release date yet for the sequel, but BAD APPLE will be coming sometime the end of March. Keep checking on my website, Twitter or Facebook page for details as they become available.

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Rose Red will stop at nothing to protect her sister, Snow White, from suffering the same fate as their mother. She vows to kill Hestor, the evil dwarf sorcerer responsible for her death. But a twist of fate lands her on the bottom of a riverbed, and her life in the hands of a mysterious stranger. Marcus is a beast of a man. He is a bear by day, man by night, thanks to a curse from the evil Hestor. But when he rescues Rose from an icy grave, he unleashes the real animal. Falling for her is dangerous enough, as he must protect the secret of his curse. But she may just be the key to getting his kingdom back as she breaks one spell and puts him under another.

EXCERPT:

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Do you have a habit of going around saving damsels in distress, Marcus?” The coy tone in her sexy voice hardens my cock even more, evidence that I've not been in female company for quite some time, and it's taking its toll.

I don't have many women that wander into the haunted woods in need of my rescuing. Which leads to the question, what were you doing there?” I fold my arms and stare down into her eyes.

I don't think that's any of your business now, is it?” The icy aftertaste of her tone stings my ears. “While I appreciate the rescue, I should get home. My sister is waiting for me and will send out a search party if I don't return.”

It'll be a mighty cold walk with no clothes,” I say, holding back the smirk climbing across my lips.

The green in her eyes darkens. “Kindly give me back my clothing and affects, sir.”

Absolutely. Once they're dry.” I fan my arms to the fire where I've laid out her soaking clothes. “It'll take hours for them to be dry enough to wear. Besides, there's a nasty storm brewin' outside. A bit treacherous for you to be wandering out in, alone and at night. It would be in your best interest to stay here and let it pass. You can venture home in the morning.” My eyes lock onto hers and I pour sincerity into them in hopes she'll reconsider my offer. “I promise, come sunrise I will leave you, and you are free to go.”

She darts her gaze between me and the fireplace. I half expect her to make a mad dash for her clothes. But she doesn't.

And what am I to do the rest of this eve then?” Her arms fold across her chest, pinching her breasts together.

I force my eyes away from the glorious cleavage and swallow over the lump in my throat. “Well, I assume you'll want to sleep. After all, I would imagine killing a man would take a lot out of you physically and emotionally. Not to mention the whole falling into the river and me rescuing you.”

Her eyes widen as big as saucers. “Were you stalking me?”

Perhaps I came upon you once or twice before.” I give an aloof shrug.

Fury blazes in her dark green eyes and it lights my cock on fire even more. Damn, she's gorgeous when she's feisty. It takes everything in me not to devour her plump lips with my own.

How much do you know?” She leans in, forgetting she's naked as her protective covering falls away from her breasts.

They stare up at me from the corner of my eye, but I'm careful not to look at them for fear she'll cover them back up. Stunning pink nipples harden at the chill in the room. My fingers ache to rub them.

How much should I know. I've never met you before, Rose. You've come into my woods for the past month, and each time a man is with you. But you always leave alone. And I'm left to dispose of bloodied bodies before morning. So, do I need to worry that you'll add me to your collection?” Jutting my hands to the blanket on either side of her body, I press in closer to her on the bed, hovering just above her lips.

Quick breaths puff from her lips as she processes my words. Her eyes stay glued to mine in a glorious rage, and it stirs me inside to think of burying myself in that fury between her legs.

Not unless you're in league with Hestor. If you are, I suggest you run.” Her body inches closer to mine, the blankets falling even further down her body. The delicate soft skin of her stomach catches my eyes and I'm unable to look away.

Hestor?” I repeat, as it's the only word that sticks in my ears under the distraction of her curves.

Are you not familiar with the dwarf sorcerer?” she asks.

Oh. On the contrary, I'm quite familiar with Hestor. The question is, why do you seek him out?” My gaze turns back to her.

Like what you see?” She tilts her head and swipes her lips with her tongue. “It's yours if you lead me to him.”

I shake my head. “You truly must think me a fool if you proposition me so, dear Rose. I know that's what you offer the targets in your game. You tease them with the reward of your body, yet you get them alone in the woods and take their lives. You cannot seduce me in this way.”

Am I repulsive to you?” her voice notches up an octave.

You, Rose Red are the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure to lay my eyes upon. But I think you should know our interest in Hestor may be of a similar nature and perhaps we could strike a deal.” I ease off her and fold my arms.

What do you want with him? His magicks are dark and bring only evil.” Her blazing eyes darken, studying me with intent.

I lean in, pressing my chest against hers as I hover above her face. “I have my reasons, as I know you do yours. They are not of your concern. What we both agree on is that he must be eliminated. No?”

Your towel seems to have come lose,” she whispers.

My brow quirks. “How would you know?” I think she's trying to distract me, but I won't fall for her games. “Your eyes haven't left mine.”

Because I'm the one who loosened it.” Her warm hand wraps around my cock, forcing a gasp from my lungs. My head yells at me to jump back, but the sensation of her fingers gripping tight to my flesh wipe all logical thought from my mind. I make the mistake of glancing down, aching to watch her hand stroke my length. It's the last thing I see before she knocks me cold.

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BUY LINKS

All Romance | Amazon | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Bookstrand | Evernight Publishing

About the Author

Wren Michaels hails from the frozen tundra of Wisconsin where beer and cheese are their own food groups. But then a cowboy swept her off her feet and carried her away below the Mason-Dixon line where she promptly lost all tolerance for snow and cold. They decided they’d make beautiful babies together and they got it right on the first try. Now Wren lives happily ever after in the real world and in the worlds of her making, where she creates book boyfriends for the masses to crave.

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Now at Dreamspinner Press

Now at Dreamspinner Press
"This story is about two grown ass gay men that each have a little doubt for one reason or another if their relationship will work. The story is conveyed well and kept completely on the adult playing field, I loved it! When these two get going in the bedroom it is passionate and sensual."--TSM