tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84715117549338612432024-03-13T17:13:57.804-07:00Scarlet BlackwellFor those who like their m/m romance dark and their heroes flawedUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger111125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-9535773372481651832024-01-28T06:58:00.000-08:002024-01-28T07:02:22.217-08:00Missing in Action - Excerpt<p>COMING THIS SPRING</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<h2 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB">CHAPTER ONE<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSjzaq1kwzSyjafceFt0A2DqizLNESNtcSGfXLiOibtxTSQWmJ8xnZV0VnsMf98bXrkhzcsFWEgNEOwdeSGAYZa-y91B6KubzA2NB-wlq1MQ9f7X_cjp5zNw-EyE6DrMAzBrSv2cqlpQemk3CunKwOc81LZpXgNqZPRufBMRW9EBx706r9uN42IFutS8/s1600/Missing%20in%20Action%20square.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSjzaq1kwzSyjafceFt0A2DqizLNESNtcSGfXLiOibtxTSQWmJ8xnZV0VnsMf98bXrkhzcsFWEgNEOwdeSGAYZa-y91B6KubzA2NB-wlq1MQ9f7X_cjp5zNw-EyE6DrMAzBrSv2cqlpQemk3CunKwOc81LZpXgNqZPRufBMRW9EBx706r9uN42IFutS8/w400-h400/Missing%20in%20Action%20square.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The nightmare was the same again. The
dust, the blood, the screaming. Then his own cries as he looked beyond his knee
and saw nothing but torn and charred flesh. Tyler awoke with a start, dazed,
sweating, disorientated. He thrashed on the bed before he took in the small
bedroom, the sun streaming through the open curtains. He fell back with a gasp.
The nightmares even invaded his afternoon naps now, while the flashbacks were
at times near damn continuous. A sudden thud on the door sounded like a gun
firing and startled him. He didn’t get visitors, who could it possibly be? He
shuffled to the edge of the bed and put his feet down, relieved he’d kept his
leg on to sleep. Down the short hallway, he saw a shape behind the frosted
glass of the door. He only wore shorts, but he didn’t stop to pull on a
T-shirt. He swung it open.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A man stood there, shorter than Tyler,
maybe five feet ten and lean, wearing faded jeans and a white open-necked
shirt. He was maybe twenty years older than Tyler, his dark hair streaked with
silver, and handsome, with dark eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Very
handsome</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">. For a moment, Tyler couldn’t speak. With
a sinking feeling, he thought he knew who this was.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Mr. Lockhart?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah,” Tyler said, waiting.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m Holden Maddison. Your new landlord.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler’s heart sank. Yeah, it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i> who he thought it was. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The guy’s gaze flickered down Tyler’s
body, glancing at his prosthesis and moving back up again with unease written
on his face. Tyler was used to the reaction. A twinge of pain just completed
his misery.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“You’ve been expecting me, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler said nothing. He had nothing to say.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The man looked irritated. He sighed. “I
sent you notice to leave over two months ago, Mr. Lockhart, and now I’m here
moving in, and I find you’re still here.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler swallowed. “Look, I don’t have
anywhere else to go. I’m not causing trouble here. I’m not in your house, I
keep myself to myself. Why do you need me gone?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Holden Maddison looked wrong-footed for a
moment. “I need quiet to work.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler frowned. “And your house is there
and mine is here. I don’t play loud music; I don’t have parties. Why exactly
are you throwing me out?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Holden stared at him for a moment. “You
have till the end of the week.” He turned and walked away, across the driveway,
away from the annex and into the main house, where he closed the door.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler slammed the door. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Prick</i>. He had a feeling he knew the
guy’s name and face, and had done when the letter of eviction had arrived. Was
he famous? Had Tyler seen him on the TV? He couldn’t place him. Maybe he was,
and that was why he was such an asshole. What did it matter who lived in the
little cottage on his land? Tyler was paying rent for fuck’s sake. He never
went anywhere or saw anyone, how exactly could he disturb Holden? He went back
into the bedroom and sat down. His leg was hurting; his stump was shrinking and
resting too hard into the prosthesis. He should have taken it off to sleep. He
grabbed a jacket from the chair in the corner. He should have rested his leg
and he should have applied more socks to the ever increasing layers that he was
always fucking about with, sometimes five times a day, but instead, he slammed
the door behind him and set off down the rutted track. Walking would help him
clear his head, help him think what he was going to do when he became homeless.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The day was too hot, he realized
belatedly. Too hot when the end of your has-been leg was jammed too deep into
the prosthesis and sweating made it worse. Too fucking hot for limping along
the fucking road in Clear Water fucking Creek like he had somewhere to go. He
had nowhere to go and no one to see.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">By the time he made it to what passed for
the town square, with the doctors’ clinic, the bakery, the diner and Bluey’s
bar, he was in agony. Why the fuck hadn’t he added extra socks? What the hell
was the matter with him? Was he some sort of masochist?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He’d only been in the diner once. He could
hardly afford to eat, never mind dine out, but if he didn’t sit down soon, he’d
fall down. He was sweating profusely and his leg was all sorts of misery that
threatened to undo him. Even worse than the usual phantom limb pain. He didn’t
know how much money he had in his pocket, but they couldn’t refuse to serve him
a glass of iced water while he rested, could they?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He climbed the steps to the diner
torturously and pushed open the door. The blast of cold air that hit him almost
made him groan in pleasure. He limped inside. It was a small, homey place, with
only a couple of patrons enjoying a drink. Behind the counter stood a lean dark-haired
man of average height in his thirties, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans and polishing
steamy glasses fresh from a dishwasher. Tyler had intended to go straight to
the counter and order the water. Instead he fell into the nearest booth, almost
collapsing onto the padded couch.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He heard running footsteps as he sat with
his eyes squeezed shut, breathing hard. “Are you okay, Sir?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler cracked open his eyes. The guy had
come out from behind the counter. He stood there with the cloth twisted in his
hands, concern written all over his pretty face. For a moment, he looked like
water in an oasis, the nicest thing Tyler had seen all day. Well, that was
apart from the silver fox at his door not so long ago, but he didn’t need to
think about that asshole.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m okay,” he managed to say. He saw the
guy glance down. “It’s hurting.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Take it off,” the man said. “I’ll get you
a cushion and a cold cloth.” With that he hurried away, leaving Tyler looking
after him in admiration. With relief, he unlocked the prosthesis. It wasn’t
every day he got invited to take his leg off in public. Most people would have
been afraid to look. He guessed this guy wasn’t most people. He took off the
two layers of stump socks. He was wearing more socks and thicker plys as the
stump shrunk and the socket was getting looser and looser. He needed a new one;
that much was obvious. Easing the liner off his stump was a welcome balm. The
air felt great; he needed to air the flesh and cool it down. He looked around
and saw the other two patrons were engrossed, one on their phone, the other
staring at a book.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler turned sideways on the couch so he
could rest what remained of his leg and concentrated on taking a few slow, deep
breaths. While it helped to remove the leg, it didn’t help the phantom pain and
sensation he still had in his non-existent foot. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He heard the guy come back. Setting a bowl
on the table, he held out a cushion to Tyler. He glanced at his stump but Tyler
didn’t see any revulsion in his eyes. When he took the cushion, he saw
something on the inner side of the man’s right arm—a pink ridged scar that
wound its way right up under the sleeve of his T-shirt. He was intrigued. Maybe
it was the reason he was so sympathetic to Tyler’s plight.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He wedged the cushion under his stump,
noticing the red raw skin along its edge. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Cool it down now,” the guy said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler nodded. A cloth floated in the bowl.
He dipped his hands in, wrung it out and patted it along the edge of his stump.
It felt great, as he had known it would. He smiled at the guy. “Thanks, man.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The guy smiled in turn. “I’m Finn Austen.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler held out his hand. “Tyler Lockhart.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Nice to meet you, Tyler. Have you got any
pain relief?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler shook his head. It was a sore point,
no pun intended. He was scared shitless of taking opiates, because he had seen
other guys hooked on them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I can offer you a couple of Tylenol?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“That would be wonderful, Finn, thank
you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No problem. And to drink? We have some
iced tea.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“That sounds great.” Tyler would need to
check the coins in his pocket, but hopefully he could stretch to that.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Coming right up.” Tyler watched him walk
back to the counter. Another guy came out of the kitchen at that moment and
they exchanged a few words. He was a young man, ten or fifteen years younger
than Finn with cropped black hair and a lip-ring, wearing a T-shirt with a
heavy metal band’s logo on, someone Tyler liked to listen to. It made him
remember long ago nights in sweaty mosh-pits, the music making him feel so
alive. Now if he wanted to go to a gig, he guessed he’d have to have a seat, in
the disabled access. He wouldn’t trust the prosthesis to hold him up in a rough
environment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He wet the cloth again and tucked it
around his stump. A bell rang over the door and Tyler lowered his head as a
tall man entered. He didn’t want a stranger staring as he walked past the
booth. Once the guy had passed though, Tyler followed his muscular figure to
the counter. He wore a sheriff’s uniform. Anxiety fluttered through him. He
didn’t want to meet the local law enforcement for fear the silver fox back at
the house had already asked the guy to throw him off his property.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">To his surprise, the guy leaned right over
the counter and kissed Finn on the lips. Finn smiled, put a hand up to stroke
the guy’s cheek. They were comfortable lovers, their body language told Tyler
that. He felt embarrassed and looked away. Of course someone as physically
blessed as Finn would have a significant other, even if Tyler hadn’t expected
that someone to be a man. He glanced up as Finn approached the table once more.
He placed the glass of iced tea down along with a small saucer that held two
white pills.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Thanks, man.” Tyler saw the cop had approached
behind Finn. And he wasn’t any old deputy, but the head honcho, the gold star
on his chest told Tyler that. He groaned inwardly, wanting to be anywhere but
here.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“This is Brandon,” Finn said, putting his
hand on the sheriff’s arm. “He can give you a ride home when you’re feeling
better.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Oh
God, no.</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> A ride home to the house he was illegally
squatting in, for the silver fox to see and tell the sheriff all about Tyler
refusing to leave? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Stop calling him the
fucking silver fox, he’s an asshole!<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He tried his best to smile at Brandon as
he held out his hand. “Tyler.” He didn’t give his last name, as though somehow
that would keep him off the sheriff’s radar.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">If Finn was handsome, Brandon was
startlingly so. Christ, what was with the hot men in this town? If Tyler hadn’t
been so incapacitated, his cock might have started to take notice. He was all
chiselled jaw and dark, soulful eyes, around six-two with that worked out body
straining his uniform.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Hi there, Tyler.” He shook Tyler’s hand
with a cop type of grip. “Sorry to hear you’re having some problems.” He barely
glanced at Tyler’s stump. Tyler wondered if Finn had had the scar before he met
Brandon or if it had happened while they were together.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Thanks.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“You take your time. I’m going to grab a
coffee. When you’re ready to go, I’ll give you a ride home.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“That’s very kind of you, but I think I’ll
be okay,” Tyler said. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why the fuck did
you say that? If you have to put that prosthesis back on today, you’ll end up
crawling home on your hands and knees.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sure,” Brandon said, looking like he
didn’t believe him. “See how you go.” He smiled. It wasn’t exactly a smile that
meant Brandon felt sorry for him, more that he understood that Tyler was trying
to act the big man. Either way, he suddenly wanted to cry. Brandon walked back
to the counter and Finn smiled at him too and that was Tyler’s eyes full to the
brim. He lowered his head, blinking back tears furiously, giving a little moan
when he heard the bell ring again. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Please,
nobody else. I can’t face anybody else seeing me like this.</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">
But the day was only going to go from bad to worse. He glanced up and locked
gazes with the goddamn silver fox.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The guy looked startled when he saw him.
His gaze fell to Tyler’s cold cloth covered stump and he looked away again quickly.
He approached the counter and sat down. The young lad with the black hair moved
up to serve him, then spoke in a voice so loud, the whole diner couldn’t help
but overhear.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Oh my God, you’re Holden Maddison.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler stared. Was the guy some kind of
movie star? He didn’t hear the low reply the man gave. Maybe he was trying to
keep his fame under wraps. Tyler had seen him somewhere before, after all.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I have one of your books right here.” The
lad pulled out a paperback from under the counter and waved it at Holden.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Ah, that was where. He was an author and
now Tyler knew where he’d seen him. He’d been all over the news for the last
few weeks. His agent had defrauded him of thousands of dollars and disappeared
off the face of the earth. The last he heard, Holden Maddison had disappeared
too. Now Tyler knew where to. To reappear as his landlord. He wondered if the
tabloids knew. It sounded like a good bargaining chip.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Will you sign it for me, please,” the
young man begged. “To Jordan.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Still he didn’t hear the soft answers the
guy gave. He watched Holden take the pen with his left hand and scribble in the
front of the book. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Thank you so much, you made my day. What
are you even doing here, dude?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler smiled viciously to himself. He was
glad Holden Maddison’s day was turning out to be as shit as his own. He popped
the pills in his mouth and took a long drink of the iced tea, then dipped the
cloth in the cold water again and rested it along his stump. He leaned back
against the couch and closed his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Footsteps sounded again and he looked up,
expecting it to be Finn or his boyfriend. Instead, Holden stood there holding a
cup of coffee. “Can I join you?” His face was carefully controlled, but he
still looked pissed off with Tyler.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No,” Tyler said. “Go away.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Holden ignored him. He slid onto the couch
opposite and faced Tyler over the table. He didn’t speak and Tyler became
annoyed. “I’m not in the mood, man.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Look…” Holden said. His tone was soft. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler hated the idea so much that the guy
felt sorry for him, that he burst in. “Does the press know you’re hiding out
here?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The author’s face turned cold as stone. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Would they be interested to know?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Holden stared at him. Between his teeth,
he said, “What do you want?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“To keep my home.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Holden looked at him for a long moment,
those dark eyes locked on his, sparking with anger. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?
You look like you need the charity.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He rose from his seat leaving Tyler
open-mouthed. He had returned to the counter before the anger and humiliation
had risen in Tyler to boiling point. He sat with his fist clenched in impotent
rage, cursing the bastard. A year ago, before his injury, he would have taken
the puny old dude down with one fucking punch. Now he was apparently relegated
to dealing with these insults from a guy twenty years older than him. He
swallowed. Once more, tears of self-pity burned his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He looked up as Finn slid into the seat
opposite. “You okay, man?” His face was filled with concern. Maybe he could see
how close to breakdown Tyler was.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“You know that guy?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tyler lowered his voice. “He’s my
landlord.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Oh, right. Is that a bad thing?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“He wants me out.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Shit. Sorry. He’s new in town. I’ve got a
couple of his books at home. He’s good.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Did you hear what happened to him?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Finn frowned. “No. what?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Maybe folks in Clear Water didn’t watch the
news so often. Tyler felt bad for gossiping, but he couldn’t forget what Holden
had just said to him. He leaned over the table. “His agent ran off with all his
money. He’s bankrupt.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Finn opened his mouth, glancing at Holden.
“No! Poor guy.” His sympathy seemed genuine and made Tyler feel like a shit.
Finn was a good man. Tyler had been once. Now he was too bitter and
self-obsessed to give a shit, looking to blame everyone else for the IED that
had taken his leg. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He gulped some iced tea and fished in his
pocket for some change. “I’m going to get going. Thanks for your help.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No problem, man. And it’s on the house.
Put your money away. I’ll tell Brandon you’re ready.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No, it’s fine.” Tyler pulled the sweat
soaked liner over his stump. He meant both the iced tea and the ride.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No, it’s not. He’ll…” Finn looked toward
Brandon as the sheriff hurried past with his cell glued to his ear. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I have to go, love.” He kissed Finn as he
passed, stroking his hip briefly in a gesture that spoke of deep intimacy
between the two of them. “Call Tyler a cab.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Bracing himself, Tyler clicked the
prosthesis in place. Money for a cab he definitely didn’t have and he wasn’t
sure his few coins added up to the price of the tea either. The pain of the
prosthesis overwhelmed him, but he shoved to his right foot and leaned on the
table. “I’m fine,” he told Finn. “Thanks for everything.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He locked gazes with Holden Maddison as
the writer turned away from the counter and slid from his stool. “I’m just
leaving,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No, thanks,” Tyler said. He grasped
Finn’s hand and shook it, then set off to the door, limping even worse than he
usually did and cursing himself.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Finn called his name, but Tyler didn’t
look back. The door swung shut behind him and he breathed easier even though
the pain threatened to overwhelm him. He set off across the square in the
blinding afternoon sun.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Take
your time. One false foot in front of the other. You can do this. <o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. He
reached the dirt track leading away to his home and wished for not the first
time, as the sun beat down on his head and the prosthesis rubbed his stump
agonisingly, that he had died in Afghanistan.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-49885839303419573702024-01-24T04:16:00.000-08:002024-01-24T04:24:42.414-08:00Missing in Action Blurb - Coming in Spring<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="text-indent: 0cm;">Holden’s hiding from the press after his
agent stole all his money.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Tyler’s just hiding from life after
Afghanistan stole his leg.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">There’s twenty-two years and a wealth of
hurt and bitterness between them. It doesn’t stop them from wanting each other.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Holden’s been leading a shadowy existence
all his life and his secret is way too explosive to share with anyone. He can’t
talk about the things he needs and craves on a daily basis.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Tyler’s down on his luck and battling just
to stay afloat in a world of pain, flashbacks and nightmares. The two of them
are worlds apart, but thrown together by circumstances that have them
questioning what’s most important to them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Themes: hurt/comfort, age gap, PTSD,
disabilities<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Warnings: PTSD, mental health issues,
addiction, drug use, mentions of past abuse and rape, homophobia</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSoCcG3GPTuHVWrASlTqVyL3-J553zkaFcuMoFwV-c9j1LJ-86yVJaXmJP37UgAM95UR3ayC83pTKFPhnbyWPXadVBVI44wARCdEEF2ZUenaTmXfg6-y33pYkHT3r2nqRE6u-Jqty9pR1XOfoxDfR_WNppWCDuARiWVKFu1URfN6bliYAJtB_SdEkUq4/s2400/Missing%20in%20Action%201600x2400.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSoCcG3GPTuHVWrASlTqVyL3-J553zkaFcuMoFwV-c9j1LJ-86yVJaXmJP37UgAM95UR3ayC83pTKFPhnbyWPXadVBVI44wARCdEEF2ZUenaTmXfg6-y33pYkHT3r2nqRE6u-Jqty9pR1XOfoxDfR_WNppWCDuARiWVKFu1URfN6bliYAJtB_SdEkUq4/w266-h400/Missing%20in%20Action%201600x2400.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><p style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-62024303496884238552024-01-21T04:58:00.000-08:002024-01-21T07:18:25.413-08:002024 Writing Update - Clear Water Creek Book 4 Cover Reveal<p> After a few very difficult and challenging months, I am pleased to announce that I will return in the spring to writing m/m romance as Scarlet Blackwell and gay erotica as Amber March.</p><p>My first release is likely to be the fourth book in the Clear Water Creek series and is entitled Missing in Action,</p><p>Readers of this series will know its books are my darkest to date and feature such themes as rape, domestic abuse, murder and snuff. While book 1 can possibly be read as a standalone, books 2 and 3 need to be read in order, and characters and events from book 1 are alluded to. Book 4 needs to be read after books 2 or 3 or after all 3 books for maximum enjoyment. It features returning characters Finn, Brandon, Jonah and Jordan amongst others and a brand new couple, Holden and Tyler.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL2c7v556krCxCz9ZflQpEQnTN1AQfwBABBK4PAgIjDC-1CYxDslB97ZHWDbSGrSZlRrpXdixQKuahMMFutybVMXxmCTzSSpvkGXVEb4tF5dD67yEguwRduO5vg9hyphenhyphenZ7sS68_010Gy9J5Ql3YDEbaa5by0c0yATuuaoqte9X8OGqJiRNTAqFmZ4o8tBRI/s2400/Missing%20in%20Action%201600x2400.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL2c7v556krCxCz9ZflQpEQnTN1AQfwBABBK4PAgIjDC-1CYxDslB97ZHWDbSGrSZlRrpXdixQKuahMMFutybVMXxmCTzSSpvkGXVEb4tF5dD67yEguwRduO5vg9hyphenhyphenZ7sS68_010Gy9J5Ql3YDEbaa5by0c0yATuuaoqte9X8OGqJiRNTAqFmZ4o8tBRI/w266-h400/Missing%20in%20Action%201600x2400.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span></span><span><a name='more'></a></span><p>Tropes featured:</p><p>Age gap</p><p>Disability</p><p>Hurt/Comfort</p><p>Veterans</p><p>Warnings: homophobia, mentions of domestic abuse and rape, PTSD, mental health issues, addiction, drug use.</p><p>Blurb and excerpt coming soon</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><span><!--more--></span><span><!--more--></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-70240683109185953552023-12-08T06:18:00.000-08:002023-12-08T06:18:35.336-08:00Short hiatus<p> Thank you to all those readers who supported me in 2023 by buying or borrowing my books. I will return to publishing in Spring 2024.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-59201442925796783282023-11-21T01:58:00.000-08:002023-11-22T13:16:23.193-08:00Updated release schedule<p> Release schedule 2023-2024</p><p><br /></p><p>TBC <b>Taken by the Kraken</b> (erotica by Amber March)</p><p>TBC <b>Missing in Action </b>(Clear Water Creek 4)</p><p>December 2024 <b>A Christmas Less Lonely</b></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-16064851357805394792023-10-11T06:43:00.008-07:002023-10-20T01:49:57.424-07:002023/2024 Release Schedule<p> Release schedule</p><p>15 October <b>Blood Kisses</b></p><p>22 October <b>Blood Tears</b></p><p>31 October <b>Blood Wine</b></p><p>TBC November <b>Taken by the Kraken</b> (erotica by Amber March)</p><p>TBC 2024 <b>Missing in Action </b>(Clear Water Creek 4)</p><p>TBC (2023 or 2024) <b>A Christmas Less Lonely</b></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-44368832386915232692023-10-11T05:24:00.004-07:002023-10-11T05:31:51.808-07:00Blood Kisses excerpt - Book 1 in the Dark Blood series, coming 15 October<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn5N6bexoTqcTr8HJ0JLGGIq-qPQBplGBheslNGsoWsnTiE6sdfbdGYAm4gQ8t6S1fG_wN-Q2zKwk3V20npb0rHz0piIZaC8Rn6Jz-cdavkv6-zuEUu03Sha5pLZOqtDwtuG9ASvvicUPfuwsGLBeFgAsZ_h_CVT-5Z08v0VvODVGyNfwUxw2jnd-llyo/s2400/Blood%20Kisses%20(1600x2400).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn5N6bexoTqcTr8HJ0JLGGIq-qPQBplGBheslNGsoWsnTiE6sdfbdGYAm4gQ8t6S1fG_wN-Q2zKwk3V20npb0rHz0piIZaC8Rn6Jz-cdavkv6-zuEUu03Sha5pLZOqtDwtuG9ASvvicUPfuwsGLBeFgAsZ_h_CVT-5Z08v0VvODVGyNfwUxw2jnd-llyo/w266-h400/Blood%20Kisses%20(1600x2400).jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><b>“You act like you hate me and I don’t know
why. All I did was love you. It wasn’t a crime.”</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Ten years ago, the vampire Severin fell in
love with the mortal Nikolaus in Vienna and abandoned him, rather than take his
life.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He and his friend, Istvan, are invited to
the vampire king Emil’s castle where he finds out that Nikolaus now belongs to
Emil. Jealousy eats Severin alive. The twin lusts of blood and sex are
intertwined for all vampires, ruling their lives. The only way to possess
Nikolaus now seems to be to accept an invitation to share Emil’s pet for one
night. But Emil is a despot, ruling all vampires with an iron fist. There is
long, painful history between Severin and his maker, and a strange kind of
relationship between the placid Istvan and the cruel Emil.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><b>“I kept you safe.”</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Storm clouds are gathering on the horizon,
threatening all their lives. Severin can run, but if he takes Nikolaus with
him, Emil will hunt them down and kill them. What’s a vampire in love supposed
to do?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A dark, steamy m/m tale of unrequited love
and longing, and vampire power games. The first in the Dark Blood trilogy</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Themes: hurt/comfort, MM, scenes of MMM
with MM ending.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 36pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Warnings: violence, sexual scenes,
spanking, blood play, double penetration.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> <a href="https://books2read.com/u/4jBzkk" target="_blank">Buy here</a></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><b>Read the first three chapters</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><b>Chapter One</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><i>Bavaria, Germany, 1895<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The place was crawling with humans.
Vampires weaved around them, their cold beauty a stark counterpoint. The
Schloss perched high on the rocks, looming sinisterly over the Bavarian forest
and shunned by the locals. They said bad things happened there. They were
right. Emil Meissner presided over it all. When he had one of his gatherings
and you were invited, you went, no questions asked.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin Murnau pulled at his tight collar
as he eyed new arrivals. He and Emil had history—five hundred years of it to be
precise. Emil had history with all the vampires in Europe: he had made most of
them, including Severin’s companion, Istvan.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Istvan caught Severin’s eye and smiled.
Uncharacteristically pleasant for a vampire, he knew Emil better than most.
They had been lovers on and off for the past hundred years. Severin didn’t know
why either. Two more polar opposites you couldn’t find. Emil was all about
control and domination. Istvan was laid back and at peace with the world,
including humanity. He didn’t like to kill. Emil scorned him for it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Istvan took two goblets of ruby-red liquid
from the silver tray of a passing waiter and gave the man a lingering look.
Human, his blood hot, rich and tantalising. Severin saw the same hunger in
Istvan’s eyes as in any other vampire’s. He was no less of a beast, try as he
might to rise above it. Nonetheless, Severin admired him. Istvan knew when to
stop.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“He always outdoes himself,” Istvan said,
indicating his glass, the beautiful guests, and the perfectly starched livery
of the waiters. The somewhat drafty ballroom of Schloss Meissner was outfitted
with silver decorations, strings of gas lights hanging from the walls and
enough candles to burn the place to the ground. A string quartet played in one
corner. On an erected dais, as self-proclaimed king, sat their host. Severin
tried not to look.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“If you say so,” he said. Meetings with
Emil were to be got through with gritted teeth. Far too often in the past they
had nearly ended in his death. The first time they met, that was exactly what
had happened.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><i>Bremen, Germany, 1350</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Emil had found Severin drunk outside a
tavern in his home town. Everyone in the place was dropping like flies from
plague and Severin swayed outside, clutching to the wall and wearing a
ridiculous mask he had fashioned himself at home.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“That won’t save you,” said a scornful
voice nearby and Severin lifted his head to see a tall, aristocratic gentleman
in fine clothes.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin glared at him, drunk enough for a
fight. The man stepped closer. His black eyes burned like obsidian. “However, I
can give you guaranteed immunity if you like.” He smiled, showing two sharp
fangs, and Severin started.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m not that way,” he stammered as the
man’s intentions became clear, because he’d only lain with women up until that
point. But he had always looked at men and admired them in just the same way.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Does it matter?” Emil said as he put an
arm around Severin’s back and hunched him in close to the wall. “I think not.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin stumbled. His head hit the wall
and a helpful hand ripped his mask off and forced his chin up. He felt hardness
against his hip a moment, the excited ghost of breath against his skin, before
lips touched his neck. A flash of arousal shot through him, swift and shocking,
and he clutched at the man’s coat, afraid and unsure.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Emil licked his neck. Severin groaned and
a moment later the stranger gripped him roughly through his woollen hose,
stroking his cock, squeezing.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin gasped and a moment later it was
all over. He felt his skin stretch and break. His essence flowed into the
stranger’s mouth and he bucked into Emil’s hand, light-headed and aroused
against his will. Emil drank, swallowing steadily, and Severin held onto him as
he grew weaker. Emil withdrew Severin’s aching cock. He worked Severin’s shaft
hard, his palm rough and calloused and desperately exciting. Severin had never
been touched by a man before. Nor had he been bitten by one.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The pain and pleasure mixed as one like
nothing he’d ever known before. The ecstasy of being drunk from overwhelmed the
knowledge that he was being murdered. Severin spurted into Emil’s hand with a
cry and slithered to the ground, glassy-eyed, his heart labouring to a halt.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><i>Bavaria, Germany, 1895</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It was Emil’s fault that Severin now
forever connected blood lust and human lust. It aroused him to drink and when
he had sex, he longed to bite. The two needs were inseparable. It was Emil who
had made them that way. Severin cast a resentful glance towards the dais.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">King Emil sat there presiding over his
subjects, on a jewelled throne no less, his suit made of velvet and his stiff
collar pinching his neck. Severin would never deny the man was sexually
magnetic, more so than other vampires. Tall and commanding, he wore his intense
sexuality on his sleeve. He lay with both sexes, but preferred men. He was
never short of a companion, vampire or human, and dominated his partners with
an iron fist. Severin could testify to that.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He glanced at his friend who was looking
at Emil too. Severin sighed. Istvan was his only friend. Vampires didn’t and
couldn’t afford to have friends, but Istvan was different. He had picked
Severin up when he was at the bottom and continued to hold him up. That was why
his friend deserved better than Emil.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Put your eyes back in,” he said
good-naturedly.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A flush bloomed over Istvan’s pale skin.
His amber eyes seemed misty. Nervously, he touched his chestnut hair.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin smiled and shook his head fondly.
Perhaps he needed to find Istvan a mate to get him over this fascination with
the dreadful Emil. His gaze took in Emil once more and sharpened with interest
when he saw Emil was holding a length of chain.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Good God, the vampire had a pet attached
to it!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A human no less—it was very popular among
vampires at that moment, a pet on tap for blood and sexual services—a man
kneeling on a silken cushion a few paces behind Emil, the chain attached to an
iron collar around his neck.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Something prickled along Severin’s spine
as he took in the pale, slight figure wearing an outfit of white silk that
clung to his lean curves. The human’s face was downcast, delicate bone
structure and sooty lashes emphasised by his cropped, glossy black hair. His
small hands were folded together on his lap. He was motionless, barely
breathing.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin reeled back, dropping his goblet.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It was the love of his life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><b>Chapter Two</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Drenched suddenly in cold sweat, Severin
stared. He knew this man like he was his own twin. As dark as Severin was
blond, as pure as Severin was defiled.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><i>Nikolaus.</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Severin?” Istvan steadied him by the arm
as Severin swayed in shock. He looked down at the marble floor running crimson
with blood as waiters hurried to clean it up, and the blood lust hit him
without warning. His fangs snapped out, eyes turning red, and it was all he
could do to stop himself darting across the room, throwing himself at the man
who still held his dead heart and tearing into his throat the way he’d always
longed to do.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Istvan’s fingers tightened on him. He had
been in Budapest when Severin met Nikolaus in Vienna ten years previously and
later picked up the pieces from the fallout of Severin’s affair. Hardly an
affair in retrospect. He had barely touched Nikolaus at all. But knowing him
over that short period of a few weeks, it was enough for him to lose his head
and his heart in a way he never had in his life before.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin allowed Istvan to lead him out of
the ballroom, through the French doors and onto the balcony that commanded
views of the rugged Bavarian countryside for miles. He slumped against the
stone railing, clutching with feverish hands.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Emil’s pet?” Istvan questioned, tense by
his side.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin nodded. “Nikolaus.” The name tore
from his chest, leaving a jagged wound. Snow fell from the black sky,
blanketing the hills and forests. Severin put his head back, opened his mouth,
and tasted soft flakes on his tongue. “Oh God,” he said. “We must leave.” Even
as he said the words, he knew he couldn’t go without speaking to Nikolaus just
once, no matter what it cost him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Istvan’s voice was gentle. “You know we
can’t. It would be the ultimate insult. He’d kill us.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“He wouldn’t kill you, you’re his
favourite.” Severin bit his tongue against the bitterness he heard on it. Who
was he to judge whatever strange relationship Emil and Istvan had? When had he
ever succeeded in being close to anyone in the last five hundred years?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Istvan was silent.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m sorry.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Istvan gazed at the snowy landscape. “I’m
not immune from his wrath, you know that.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">That was true. During lover’s tiffs in the
past, Emil had almost killed Istvan. Severin rubbed his hands over his face
roughly and gave a loud sigh. “I never thought to set eyes on him again.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I know. We must go back to the party. You
must greet Emil as though nothing has happened. Once he’s seen you he’ll be
happy. Maybe we can slip away early tomorrow.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin swallowed. How exactly did he
greet Emil with Nikolaus chained by his side without wanting to rip the
vampire’s throat out for daring to touch what Severin had never had? Wanton,
erotic images filled his mind of Emil entwined with Nikolaus, naked limbs
writhing, the vampire’s teeth in the human’s throat, drinking, tasting that
sweet nectar that Severin had always denied himself because of some misguided
view of his love for Nikolaus. At this distance, he asked himself why. Why
hadn’t he taken what he wanted? Made Nikolaus into his mate for all time. He didn’t
know. It seemed obvious now, but Severin hadn’t been sure Nikolaus had wanted
it. Maybe he had never felt the same intensity of feelings. Severin’s head hurt
to keep raking over the memories. All he knew was that leaving Nikolaus had
ripped him apart from the inside out and left him a shell.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Istvan touched his shoulder. “Come on.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin turned and followed Istvan back
inside, to the instrument of his doom.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><b>Chapter Three</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><i>Vienna, Austria, 1885</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The room was hot that night. A dance in
progress at the Vienna townhouse of some socialite Severin didn’t care for. But
he used these events to bring himself close to humans for a while. To remember
what it was like to walk among them as the same, not different. He denied that
it was in order to court victims of the highest class but he wasn’t sure he
believed it. There had to be something more to it than that. After all, the
social elite could be just as likely to be found with opium and alcohol in
their blood as the lower order. Often more so. These toxins affected Severin.
They made him weak, intoxicated, out of control. Sometimes he’d woken up in a
dirty alleyway with a hangover after sipping from a tramp on the way home. No
fun, unless he was particularly looking to forget everything.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Scandalously, he was alone that night. He
didn’t have a lady companion who he could take to social events. He sipped
carefully at a glass of white wine, taking minimal drinks, using it mainly for
cover while he watched the humans on the dance floor. He would be a liar if he
said he wasn’t attracted to both sexes. The everlasting link Emil had left him
between blood and sex guaranteed he would take men as well as women. And that
first man—Emil himself—still resonated within Severin. He still shivered and
stiffened when he thought of the rough tussles he and Emil had engaged in from
time to time since Severin’s death. But he had never bitten Emil or any other
vampire. He didn’t know what vampire blood tasted like and he had never dared
to ask Istvan. He was happy enough with the all-consuming fire that was human
blood and he wanted it tonight. He wanted it badly.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A lean man of average height was dancing
with a woman in white who was as tall as him. They made an attractive pair. He
was dark, she was red. They were both pale and sun-starved like Severin
himself. He stepped closer, following the curve of the dance floor to catch a
glimpse of the man’s face and stopped short when he saw it. God in heaven, he
was beautiful. Raven-haired and so fine of countenance, his porcelain skin
almost translucent over bluish veins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
twirled his partner around by the hand, smiling as she laughed breathlessly.
The pulse in his throat hammered hard. Severin breathed in deeply, scenting the
man. His cock thickened in his breeches. This was the one he had to drink from
tonight.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin bided his time. He was loitering
at the edge of the floor when the man and his partner came off and he caught
his prospective victim’s eye. The man glanced at him, looked away, then glanced
back over his shoulder as he led the woman away, blushing. Severin smiled. He
took his glass outside into the cool spring air and sat a while in the gardens.
He watched couples walking and eavesdropped on their private conversations with
his superior hearing. One woman was with her lover, telling him she was
pregnant and wanted to leave her husband. Another man was telling his partner
what he wanted to do to her when they got home. Neither waited; they
disappeared into the foliage quickly. Severin smiled and debated following.
Once upon a time he might have joined in and killed both of them. Severin had
once killed indiscriminately. A stern talking to from Istvan had stopped that.
Severin saw sense in not attracting attention. He could hardly live in his
beloved Vienna for much longer if he was to leave a trail of corpses in his
wake. Now he survived on moderate amounts from a number of victims. He tried
not to drain anyone dry but he slipped from time to time when he was at his most
needy sexually.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He sat back on his uncomfortable metal
chair and looked up at the stars in the black velvet sky. The beautiful man
inside had seemed happy with his woman. Perhaps Severin should leave him be and
go home now. But he didn’t want to go home hungry. What harm would it do to
take a nip and leave the young man with little more than a headache? He didn’t
have to kill him, did he?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He straightened up as he saw a pair of
slender legs appear at the top of the terrace steps. The rest of the man’s body
came into view—black suit, white linen. The moonlight shone on luminescent skin
and for just a moment, Severin thought he felt his dead heart jump in his
chest. He frowned, unsettled by the feeling. Victim, he reminded himself. A
meal. Nothing else.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The man came down the steps and saw
Severin sitting at the bottom instantly. He paused a moment, clearly torn, but
perhaps good manners made him acknowledge Severin.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“It’s hot in there.” He spoke in a local
accent. He was Austrian through and through.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin inclined his head. “And cool out
here.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The man made steady eye contact. His eyes
were an astonishing violet colour, a sharp contrast with his black hair. He bit
his lip a moment and Severin saw it blanch white, then fill with blood again
and he wanted to taste more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life before.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Nikolaus Mayr,” the man said, holding out
his hand.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin hesitated. The way the blood
stirred in his veins, he was not sure he wanted to touch this man yet. But he
did anyway. “Severin Murnau.” Nikolaus’s hand was small and delicate. Severin
thought he could have crushed its bones in an instant. He felt the human’s
energy flow into him. The man was young, perhaps twenty-one. His clear
complexion was fresh and dewy. He had years of life ahead of him if only
Severin left him alone this evening.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikolaus slid his hand free. He coughed
and looked away, pretending to admire the sculpted gardens. Severin considered
him. A man who liked men and fought his hardest against his desire? Possibly. Severin
was sure he himself would feel more guilt if he was human and not vampire. As
it was, taking men didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things. Both would
get him killed in the end.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why don’t you sit for a moment?” Severin
suggested, using his kindest, most seductive tone.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikolaus looked torn, posture tense as
though ready to flee. Did he sense the danger? He sank into the chair beside
Severin. Only the table separated the vampire from having his wicked way. He
glanced around. They were too close to the steps. Anyone descending could see
them. Nikolaus was lucky so far. Severin would have to lure him deeper into the
garden, which he had no doubt he could do.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He glanced at his companion when Nikolaus
sighed. “Are you unwell, sir?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Forgive me,” Nikolaus said. “I’m tired.”
He passed a hand over his face and for a moment looked like he had the weight
of the world on his shoulders.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin licked his lips. “The lady you are
with tonight, is she your wife?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikolaus laughed. “Good God, no. Anna is
someone my parents force me to take on social outings. They expect I will marry
her.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin digested the words a moment. Here
was a man trapped by social convention. “Do you want to marry her?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikolaus bowed his head and squeezed his
eyes shut. He shook his head tightly.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m sorry,” Severin said. He was
dangerously close to feeling human emotions he had not known in five hundred
years.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikolaus looked at him in surprise. “Why
are you sorry? You don’t know me.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin had upset him. “Forgive me,” he
said and marvelled at the conciliatory tone in his voice. He could take this
man by force if he wanted; why was he sitting here soothing Nikolaus’s ravaged
soul like he gave a damn?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikolaus exhaled loudly. “No, forgive me.
I’m rude.” He glanced up the steps. “I’m thirsty.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Severin pushed his barely-touched wine
towards him. “Please.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikolaus took the glass and drank some of
the liquid. Severin watched him swallow, Adam’s apple undulating, and his spine
prickled with heady arousal. His cock filled and his balls started to ache for
satisfaction. He had been intending to merely drink from this man but he wanted
so much more than just a drink.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikolaus wiped the back of his hand over
his mouth. He glanced at Severin with a shy smile that showed pearly teeth.
That disused heart of Severin’s clenched and seemed to throb. “That’s good,”
Nikolaus said.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Finish it,” Severin said, thinking
alcohol would loosen Nikolaus up, even if it would make Severin drunk too by
proxy.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikolaus drained the last mouthful. He put
the glass down and looked at it a moment. “I should go back inside.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why don’t you take a turn around the
gardens with me?” Severin suggested smoothly. “You look flushed.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikolaus touched his own cheek
self-consciously. He stood. “Perhaps a few minutes.” He set off walking and
behind him, Severin smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-78867307921117307892023-09-26T13:03:00.005-07:002023-09-26T13:04:44.906-07:00Spooky season approaches: Cover Reveal - Blood Kisses (Dark Blood Book 1) - Coming 15 October<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_pKITiw_DVnVEmLxNbjETZswMVP682uoswSVp3BBQVD7XNCwO42l8NOS5aey0PmN9EoYmMvbA23f2UfwW_bouwpUzho0TwGbPfEvILL_48th75r294S4BlYNnxTcZ9MXmrKGDfEMNJ8qMjtEFphZCUo27SlVI3TmjXLe_p6KWyDwh5fhvf0dU_rHblg/s2560/Blood%20Kisses%20(1600x2560).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_pKITiw_DVnVEmLxNbjETZswMVP682uoswSVp3BBQVD7XNCwO42l8NOS5aey0PmN9EoYmMvbA23f2UfwW_bouwpUzho0TwGbPfEvILL_48th75r294S4BlYNnxTcZ9MXmrKGDfEMNJ8qMjtEFphZCUo27SlVI3TmjXLe_p6KWyDwh5fhvf0dU_rHblg/w250-h400/Blood%20Kisses%20(1600x2560).jpg" width="250" /></a></div><p></p><p>This series was originally published under one of my other pseudonyms (I have a few!). It has been revised and re-edited with hot, hot, hot new covers by my amazing cover artist. It is ultra spicy with scenes not for the faint hearted. </p><p><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CJWSSL1Z" target="_blank">Buy here</a><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-10241342820230941312023-09-25T08:52:00.000-07:002023-09-25T08:52:04.901-07:00Spooky season approaches: Read Padme's Library's review of The Golden Haired BoyThe Golden Haired Boy is a hurt/comfort vampire novella set in London and on the Western Front during the first world war. Expect the usual trauma and heartbreak with a HEA guaranteed. <div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLiBnmxh5BimYiCBohdFAxhsiSdeZt5m23Kg8vo7PxhWb7A855vdvcv8MGLlNnYvPM1sdLmPCCVFS0YVKKTh8A3ffKMmjFb_XaFRYHC3zvVsuHKyTQkYbETB43WCZqe56nfFrBgSybqacGdhbmACm4pozq9aagwZhsmSvfUXWcDyqKkYdO7QYZo-zBrG8/s2560/Goldenhairedboy_Am.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLiBnmxh5BimYiCBohdFAxhsiSdeZt5m23Kg8vo7PxhWb7A855vdvcv8MGLlNnYvPM1sdLmPCCVFS0YVKKTh8A3ffKMmjFb_XaFRYHC3zvVsuHKyTQkYbETB43WCZqe56nfFrBgSybqacGdhbmACm4pozq9aagwZhsmSvfUXWcDyqKkYdO7QYZo-zBrG8/w250-h400/Goldenhairedboy_Am.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://padmeslibrarybooks4all.blogspot.com/2023/09/monday-mornings-menu-golden-haired-boy.html?fbclid=IwAR0kXVtwyxlbLrkiqhFIvgxi4j865H3rFexyktze4gRC9LqA80FcZwNQIAI" target="_blank">Read review here</a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://books2read.com/u/mVD816" target="_blank">Buy here</a><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-60570919239033422352023-09-02T07:39:00.001-07:002023-09-02T07:41:13.028-07:00Read the first chapter of Yours<p> Read the first chapter from Yours below. Out 16 September</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuUTucBWVorAwyAP8bS1ztiN4FeGzrk8fGL2coyN_6j3CxckuhSqQ32iS8BxUSQSIB6ebrG2r4bYpMIlBpd7FLUTEre-4nRh4_yH-8OnfSQQRq3j53MRBK66qUYe3IH9SauAEa5RDztJVt34PjqF7n8x4g7wfMr-z0JeEqiQZdAC6Wk4E_FI76upwqmoU/s2560/Yours%201600X2560.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuUTucBWVorAwyAP8bS1ztiN4FeGzrk8fGL2coyN_6j3CxckuhSqQ32iS8BxUSQSIB6ebrG2r4bYpMIlBpd7FLUTEre-4nRh4_yH-8OnfSQQRq3j53MRBK66qUYe3IH9SauAEa5RDztJVt34PjqF7n8x4g7wfMr-z0JeEqiQZdAC6Wk4E_FI76upwqmoU/w250-h400/Yours%201600X2560.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>The blurb:</p><p><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">“If you’re not in love with Matt, then you must be in love with me.”</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Lewis Green has his world ripped apart on the eve of the opening of his best friend’s bookstore. Matt Harmon’s almost killed in a car accident on his way to the launch and Lewis doesn’t know if he’ll survive. In his hour of need, he turns to his other friend, Nick, for solace.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Nick might work for Matt, but they haven’t always seen eye to eye. He’s not afraid to voice his opinion on the cold, self-interested Matt to Lewis and it causes untold friction. Nick can’t understand why Lewis and Matt are so close, but the idea that Matt might not survive and the effect it will have on Lewis, is too horrific to contemplate. Nick will do whatever it takes to be there for Lewis and see him through the darkest time in his life.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The two grow closer than they ever have and suddenly, things become confusing and both men start to question what they always thought they knew.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Possible Spoilers:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Themes: Bisexual awakening, hurt/comfort, angst, friends to lovers<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Genre: Contemporary romance<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Warnings: Violence and strong language. Sexual scenes. Homophobia. PTSD.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> The story is a prequel/companion piece to Heal Me and best read after Heal Me for maximum enjoyment.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CG4RVM8H" target="_blank">Buy here</a><br /></span></p><div><br /></div><div><b>Chapter One</b></div><div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Harmon’s</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">
was heaving with guests, the air con working overtime as the packed bodies
mingled between the book shelves and the heady smell of success laced the air.
A palpable sense of anticipation was turning to frustration, though, at the
late arrival of the guest of honor.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Matthew fucking Harmon. Late to his own opening night.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis Green huffed a sigh, catching the eye of Nick
Carter, Matt’s manager and general overseer. Nick had done all the work here,
and that pissed Lewis off even more when Matt was going to climb out of that
fucking Lamborghini outside any minute and swan in, making an entrance like
only he could, having every woman in the place creaming themselves over him and
fighting to take him home. Yeah, Matt knew just what to do.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">But he was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i>
late. Later than he’d ever been for anything before. Far too late to be doing
this deliberately, right? Unease swam through Lewis. He looked at Nick again.
He and Nick were tight, had been for a while since he’d worked for Matt. Nick
was done up like a dog’s dinner that night. He looked fucking amazing. He was a
lean, toned kind of guy, maybe six-one to Lewis’ five-eleven, no spare fat on
him anywhere thanks to his work-out regime, and a six-pack to die for. Lewis
could take or leave the gym. He had a tendency to run to fat though if he shirked
exercise and Nick helped and encouraged him with that. His favorite thing was
to go running with Nick, who never laughed at his poor stamina and only
encouraged. He noticed women admiring Nick, and why not? He had dark hair,
slicked back that night, and grey eyes that shifted to blue depending on the
light. He wore a black suit and a crisp white shirt with a lilac tie. He was
the best looking guy in the place and Lewis only realized he was staring when
Nick smiled at him. Their gazes held. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nick worked hard and played harder. Nights out with
him were a riot. He talked to women, and he took them home or took their number
if they hit it off, but it wasn’t a big deal for him. It didn’t seem to be the
reason why he went out. Whereas with Matt, it was his end game. From the moment
he stepped foot into a bar, he was cruising, assessing every woman, grading
them. Once he found someone willing to go home with him with minimal fuss, he
ditched his friends and disappeared. He treated it so seriously, like it was
the most important thing in his life. Lewis imagined him to be cold and clinical
in bed too. While Matt was blessed with great beauty and usually had his pick
of women—although he had a type, slim brunettes with boyish haircuts—Lewis
doubted his ability to show anyone a good time other than himself. Sometimes he
texted Matt deliberately to see where he was up to in his seduction game after
he had left their group. On several occasions, Matt had replied to the
text—sent within an hour of him leaving—to say he was home. What did he do?
Throw the woman to the nearest horizontal surface and stick it in, then walk
out the door? Sometimes Lewis asked Matt if he was seeing his conquest again.
Matt would look at him in horror like he was suggesting they get married.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He couldn’t imagine Nick to be a poor lover. He was so
warm and charming, the life and soul of the party. If he spoke to a woman in a
bar, he included all his friends and hers. She and her friends might be with
them for the night, and there was no undercurrent of pressure for her to go
home with Nick, no touches, no lingering glances. Lewis didn’t usually know if
Nick liked a woman or not, or if he was just being friendly, the way he was
with everyone. Sometimes when Lewis had asked him why he hadn’t taken the woman
he’d been talking to all night home, Nick had looked at him in surprise and
told him it hadn’t been like that at all, and she wasn’t his type. He was just
talking. Which was where he differed from Matt. Matt wouldn’t know how to talk
to a woman as a friend without attempting to get into her panties. He didn’t
have female friends. Lewis felt sorry for him. It seemed his upbringing had
left him unable to relate to the opposite sex in the right way. And Lewis
handled a lot of cases involving injustice against women in his law practice.
It made him sensitive and understanding. Matt knew he disapproved of his
behavior. It wasn’t like Lewis didn’t have one-night stands, of course he did,
but he didn’t go about it the way Matt did. He didn’t show such a lack of
respect for his partners. He behaved more like Nick, who loved and respected
women. Lewis wasn’t sure Matt cared about anyone, male or female. Apart from
Lewis himself. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nick strode across the room.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Where is he?” Lewis barked. “What the fuck is he
playing at?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nick shrugged, laid back even in the face of Matt’s
games. “You know what he’s like.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah, I do, but Nick, he’s never this late for
anything. I’ll call him now. I should have called him before.” He pulled his
cell out and connected to Matt’s number. He expected it to be answered
immediately, to hear the roar of the Lamborghini’s engine as Matt sped into
town. But it didn’t even ring. There was only silence. Lewis frowned. He cut
the call and tried again. The same thing happened. He stared at Nick. “It’s not
connecting.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“What? Let me try.” Nick pulled out his phone. He
thumbed a few buttons and held it to his ear. Then he looked at Lewis. “Must be
a bad signal.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I have full signal.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Maybe he hasn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis eyed Nick in consternation. Something tightened
his stomach.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Don’t look like that,” Nick said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Something’s happened to him.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No,” Nick said and his eyes warned Lewis not to get
carried away. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“He’s almost an hour late, Nick!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nick sighed. He pushed a hand through his hair.
“Right, I’ll make some calls.” He wandered off, jabbing buttons on his cell.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Who was he calling? The hospitals? The police? Lewis
shifted from foot to foot. He hurried to the door and went out onto the
sidewalk, looking up and down Main street. A group of people stood there
drinking the free champagne, some of them smoking. He expected to see the
Lamborghini appear at any moment and a smirking Matt leap from it in a
thousand-dollar suit with insincere apologies.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Then Nick came rushing out of the bookstore and when
Lewis saw the look on his face, his legs almost buckled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“What?” he cried, grabbing Nick’s arms. “What?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nick put his hands on his shoulders. He drew him away
from the group of people. “Stay calm.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“What’s happened, Nick? He’s been in an accident,
hasn’t he?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nick sighed. He pushed Lewis against the wall, holding
his shoulders hard, standing close to him as though he knew how jelly-like
Lewis’ legs had become. “Richard’s sister just called him.” His voice was low.
Richard was Matt’s deputy manager and was inside the shop, waiting like everyone
else. “The highway into town’s closed. She saw Matt’s car. It’s wrecked.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis let loose a howl of pain that sounded like
nothing that had ever come out of his mouth before. He broke free of Nick and
stalked across the sidewalk blindly, holding his head. Nick chased him,
grabbing him again, forcing him to a halt. “No jumping to conclusions. Not
until we know.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis gasped for breath. He whimpered, his eyes
flooding with tears. Nick clasped his face in his hands, their noses almost
touching. “Breathe,” he said. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis closed his eyes. Tears spilled down his cheeks. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Come on,” Nick said, his voice low. “Keep it together.”
His fingers stroked Lewis’ cheeks. “I need to call the hospital.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis stepped back with a nod, rubbing an embarrassed
hand over his face, gritting his teeth. Nick had never seen him cry. He grabbed his hand. He pulled him further down the sidewalk and into the shade of
a doorway, thumbing his phone. They stood pressed together. Lewis looked down
at their joined hands as Nick spoke into the phone. They had never touched this
way before.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Hi, I’m looking for a friend of mine, Matthew Harmon.
We heard he might have been in an accident on the highway.” Nick listened to
the tinny voice while Lewis stood there shivering, suddenly cold in the mild
winter air. “Okay, right. So we could come down, see if it’s him? Okay, right,
thanks.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Nick hung up. Lewis shook at the look in his eyes.
“They’ve sent the helicopter out to a crash. They don’t have any details on
casualties.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Oh God.” Lewis started to sob. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Hey.” Nick put both arms around him. “If the
helicopter’s going out, he’s alive, all right?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis dropped his face to Nick’s shoulder and held him
hard. <br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">They didn’t speak during the ride to the hospital.
Nick had only had one glass of champagne, so he drove, with Lewis beside him.
Nick rested a hand on Lewis’ knee from time to time, squeezing gently. Lewis
appreciated the touch. As they neared the hospital, he put his hand on top of
Nick’s and their eyes met briefly before Nick focused on the road again. As
they drew into the hospital grounds, lights lit up the car and a loud whirring
noise sounded above them. Nick and Lewis craned their necks through the windscreen.
They saw a helicopter coming in to land on the roof and Lewis felt his stomach
drop. He grabbed for the door handle the moment Nick pulled up in front of the
emergency department, jumping out before the car had even stopped. He ran,
leaving Nick behind.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The emergency department had a few sad-looking
stragglers hanging around and the usual suspects of a Saturday night. Lewis ran
for the desk and a woman with red hair and kind eyes smiled at him. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“My friend, he’s in the helicopter,” Lewis gasped out.
“I think.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">She was calm and polite. “Okay, sir, let me just
confirm any details and then you can book him in, if you will.” She picked up
the phone and spoke quietly into the receiver. “Hi, Sheena, any details yet on
the one coming down? Hmm, okay.” She scribbled on a pad. “Yes, I think I have
his friend here. Okay, will do. Is he…?” Lewis’ stomach lurched. He thought he
would be sick all over this woman’s shiny desk. “Okay, thanks.” She looked up
at Lewis with a serious face. “What’s your friend’s name?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis swallowed. His heart beat hard against his ribs.
She was going to say he was dead. That they had brought Matt’s broken dead body
back from the crash site and Lewis could now go and ID him. “Matthew Harmon.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">She looked down at her pad. “Yes, that’s him. They
ID’d him en route.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis stared at her with the bottom emptying out of
his world. “Is he dead?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No,” she said. “Someone will come talk to you when
they have him stable.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis let out his breath. He turned to see Nick beside
him and threw his arms around him. “He’s alive, Nick. He’s alive.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Shh,” Nick said, stroking Lewis’ head. “It’s okay.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The receptionist must have spoken to Nick, because
Lewis heard him reply. “Yes. I’m not sure. Lewis, what’s his date of birth?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis pulled back to see the woman looking at them
expectantly. He ran a hand over his eyes, tried to compose himself when he just
wanted to cry and cry. “Er, ten July, eighty-six.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He put his face back to Nick’s shoulder and left Nick
to give Matt’s address. “Lewis,” he said, touching his head gently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Do you have a phone number for his parents?
An address?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">God, Matt wouldn’t thank Lewis for getting his parents
dragged down here but he nodded and eased himself away from Nick’s solid
comfort to pull his cell from his pocket. He called up the number under Marcia
Harmon. It’d been in his phone for years. “I don’t know if she might have
changed it by now.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“We’ll try it. And if not, if you have an address, we
can send the police around.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Lewis shivered at the thought of a police officer
rapping on the door after nine at night to tell you your son was critically
injured in an accident. Because he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i>
critically injured, right? Helicopters didn’t go out to fender benders and
whiplash. He clenched his fists, struggling to keep the tears at bay and
recited Matt’s childhood address, hoping his parents hadn’t moved.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Go take a seat.” Nick gestured and Lewis stumbled
away to a plastic chair in the corner near the door and put his head in his
hands.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-10521698648417829382023-08-22T02:17:00.002-07:002023-08-22T02:19:27.972-07:00Cover Reveal: Yours<p><b> Coming 16 September</b></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDSkfm4zjJBbe5XKvTp9N0mB7lOFaNX5nNZ8_6TAjqD29FChI15UxrcQaUdFzxgClCb7lp9lWsXQtfckcTH9n86-R7iGRq_0NDo_cPziT74CnCIh-j4-ADwFBmm5gv50W_MQg5I6xcqozi0g-45kPXcwTLfgCTZYl7bS4ihqZgEa9VvXUsaTlQBjl3Cw/s2560/Yours%201600X2560.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDSkfm4zjJBbe5XKvTp9N0mB7lOFaNX5nNZ8_6TAjqD29FChI15UxrcQaUdFzxgClCb7lp9lWsXQtfckcTH9n86-R7iGRq_0NDo_cPziT74CnCIh-j4-ADwFBmm5gv50W_MQg5I6xcqozi0g-45kPXcwTLfgCTZYl7bS4ihqZgEa9VvXUsaTlQBjl3Cw/w250-h400/Yours%201600X2560.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">“If
you’re not in love with Matt, then you must be in love with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Lewis Green has his world ripped apart on the eve
of the opening of his best friend’s bookstore. Matt Harmon’s almost killed in a
car accident on his way to the launch and Lewis doesn’t know if he’ll survive.
In his hour of need, he turns to his other friend, Nick, for solace.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Nick might work for Matt, but they haven’t always
seen eye to eye. He’s not afraid to voice his opinion on the cold,
self-interested Matt to Lewis and it causes untold friction. Nick can’t
understand why Lewis and Matt are so close, but the idea that Matt might not
survive and the effect it will have on Lewis, is too horrific to contemplate.
Nick will do whatever it takes to be there for Lewis and see him through the
darkest time in his life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The two grow closer than they ever have and
suddenly, things become confusing and both men start to question what they
always thought they knew.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Possible Spoilers:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Themes: Bisexual
awakening, hurt/comfort, angst, friends to lovers<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Genre: Contemporary romance<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Warnings: Violence and
strong language. Sexual scenes. Homophobia. PTSD.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> The story is a
prequel/companion piece to Heal Me and best read after Heal Me for maximum
enjoyment.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CG4RVM8H" target="_blank">Buy here</a><br /></span></p><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-71298771174894250592023-08-22T02:13:00.001-07:002023-08-22T02:13:56.801-07:00Release Schedule and Works in Progress<p> <b>Release schedule</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnDmDhph2lAdcspn9zM229t_GvQmYmLqo7fD9p5bQJqnoaBHsYRPXGmRBhLHDHLveiNijKz09UWxd60HhzL5zxXzPLIeIghCt6VyGEPs-4HyOATFnEs9mTOKkWiYSZrRky18kRZXBoOfKFO2SwORfByGV4DtLZEtH_NyUMRdk-Ep_05SQQ1sidqRxRQs/s784/manbook7.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="784" data-original-width="526" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnDmDhph2lAdcspn9zM229t_GvQmYmLqo7fD9p5bQJqnoaBHsYRPXGmRBhLHDHLveiNijKz09UWxd60HhzL5zxXzPLIeIghCt6VyGEPs-4HyOATFnEs9mTOKkWiYSZrRky18kRZXBoOfKFO2SwORfByGV4DtLZEtH_NyUMRdk-Ep_05SQQ1sidqRxRQs/w269-h400/manbook7.jpg" width="269" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>16 September <b>Yours</b> (Damaged Goods 1.5)</p><p>TBC <b>Taken by the Krake</b>n (erotica by Amber March)</p><p>TBC 2023 <b>Missing in Action </b>(Clear Water Creek 4)</p><p>December 2023 2 x Christmas shorts</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Works in Progress</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p>Missing in Action (Clear Water Creek Book 4) - age gap, hurt/comfort - 40790/35000</p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>Professor Plum (working title) - age gap, teacher/student - 3435/21000</p><p>Wildcat Book 3 - 200/30000</p><p>Captured short story - Ethan and Gabriel - 200/2000</p><p>Taken by the Kraken 4500/5000</p><p>War Story (working title) - drama set in France during WW2 featuring American v German soldier - enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort - 6447/21000 </p><p>Beyond the Wire (Forbidden Love Book 1) - taboo love story set during WW2 - 60000/70000</p><p>Brandon and Finn - A Clear Water Creek short story 100/3000</p><p>His Heart - 120k+ opus - rework</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-77214846918904684862023-08-06T04:16:00.004-07:002023-08-08T02:54:10.987-07:00Release Schedule and Works in Progress<p><b> Release schedule</b></p><p><br /></p><p>TBC 2023 Missing in Action</p><p>December 2023 2 x Christmas shorts</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Works in Progress</b></p><p><br /></p><p>Being somewhat flighty at the moment, I have a ridiculous number of works in progress.<b> </b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p>Missing in Action (Clear Water Creek Book 4) - age gap, hurt/comfort - 33752/35000</p><p><span></span></p><p>Lewis and Nick (working title). Prequel to Heal Me - 20734/30000<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>Professor Plum (working title) - age gap, teacher/student - 3435/21000</p><p>Wildcat Book 3 - 200/30000</p><p>Captured short story - Ethan and Gabriel - 200/2000</p><p>Taken by the Kraken 4500/5000</p><p>War Story (working title) - drama set in France during WW2 featuring American v German soldier - enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort - 6447/21000 *updated 8/8</p><p>Beyond the Wire (Forbidden Love Book 1) - taboo love story set during WW2 - 60000/70000</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-41445220306599295512023-06-18T02:50:00.002-07:002023-06-18T02:56:26.355-07:00Red Hot Summer Reading - Falling for the Captain<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXM5AchVU76RvXf0aZGUD78DoC8jIOLlGDXsUzMdgJH2SQ2_9-VSPvu6t2z0-mEzafFIc_V0UGPLJvoFSLXtqETlpfnaWdcUdo0oGJV4Howi2m9IQLvQeVo0xV8Krqr4_tM0o07YsjWEb5d7b96Jgl9jHBxd8xCn2OwpEJ46QqrKixa1LPkSe6qYAs/s2560/Falling%20For%20The%20Captain%20(1600x2560).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXM5AchVU76RvXf0aZGUD78DoC8jIOLlGDXsUzMdgJH2SQ2_9-VSPvu6t2z0-mEzafFIc_V0UGPLJvoFSLXtqETlpfnaWdcUdo0oGJV4Howi2m9IQLvQeVo0xV8Krqr4_tM0o07YsjWEb5d7b96Jgl9jHBxd8xCn2OwpEJ46QqrKixa1LPkSe6qYAs/w250-h400/Falling%20For%20The%20Captain%20(1600x2560).jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 150%;"><b>A Mediterranean cruise. A broken-hearted passenger. The hottest captain to ever wear a uniform.<span></span></b></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">"The captain lifted
himself free from the water like some sort of sea god."</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Smarting from a break up, Josh Addison has no
choice but to go alone on the Mediterranean cruise he’d planned to take with
his ex. Expecting to lick his wounds in the sun, he’s struck by a thunderbolt
when he meets the captain of the ship.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Kane Kessler tries his hardest not to fraternize
with passengers. He’s led a long, lonely existence in his job, but he’s only
human and it’s lust at first sight when he sets eyes on his shy, broken-hearted
passenger.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">He wants to stay away, for the sake of his job and
for Josh’s sake. When he isn’t captaining cruise liners, he lives at the other
end of the United States from Josh—there can never be a future for them. It’s
not easy to keep away though; the chemistry between them is too explosive to
ignore. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">They have two weeks to get this thing out of their
system and go back to their lives without each other.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">They can both treat this as the casual fling it
is—right?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 36pt;">Possible
Spoilers:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Themes:
angst, forced proximity<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Genre:
Contemporary romance, hot beach read, holiday romance<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Warnings:
Violence and strong language. Sexual scenes. Hot men in uniform.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Out now at my store, Smashwords, Apple books, Kobo and Eden books plus more.<p></p><p>Out 1 July at Amazon.</p><p><a href="https://books2read.com/u/3LjBKe" target="_blank">Buy here</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Read the first chapter below</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>CHAPTER ONE</b></p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Moonlight and the bright lights of Rhodes Town shone
on the ink-black water. Waves lapped gently against the side of the ship.
Distant music swelled and ebbed from the dining room.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Joshua Addison had never felt more alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">When he’d paid for this two-week cruise around the
Mediterranean six months ago, he’d had someone to take it with. Then Drew left
him for another man. Now Josh was here alone, thousands of miles from home.
He’d flown to meet the cruise liner on the island of Rhodes, boarded, walked
around his first-class cabin, then come out onto the private balcony. He’d been
aboard approximately ten minutes and already felt like hurling himself into the
ocean. What was he doing here? He was surrounded on all sides by loving couples
and it made him want to vomit.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A sudden cry split his self-pitying reverie.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Shit, what are you doing, Freddie? Why are you using
your teeth? Christ!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh jerked his gaze sideways. He glanced across the
wall separating his balcony from his neighbors’, squinting at two shapes in the
dark. A man on his knees was being held by the hair by a man on his feet.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sorry, I’ve got cramp in my leg. Fuck.” The man on
his knees shook one leg out behind him violently.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Jesus Christ, you nearly bit my dick off.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sorry, love.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh’s face heated with blood and he tried to sink
back into the shadows in case his neighbors thought he was a peeping Tom.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It was too late.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Shit.” The man on his feet fumbled at his pants while
his partner lurched up. The man giving the public sexual favor stepped toward
the wall with a cheeky grin. Of small stature and thin, with dark hair, he was
dressed smartly for dinner, even if his shirt was luminous pink. “Hi, you must be
our neighbor. We were just,”—he coughed—“christening the place.” He held out
his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh regarded it dubiously before shaking. “Josh
Addison.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m Freddie Booth, this is Erik Dalby.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Freddie’s partner approached the wall. Taller, with
red hair and a nice smile, he put his arm around Freddie’s waist. “Sorry we
disturbed you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh was more embarrassed than his exhibitionist neighbors.
He mumbled some pleasantry. He felt anything but pleasant.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Who’re you here with?” Erik asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No one.” Josh glanced back to the safety of his
cabin, desperate to closet himself inside.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why not?” Freddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh glared at him. “Because my boyfriend ran off with
another man.” He stalked back to his cabin and slammed the door.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Music woke Josh, together with laughing and shouting.
Bright sunshine streamed through the curtains. The ship had yet to get
underway, still docked at Rhodes Town. He stretched and turned over in bed,
listening with irritation to the racket outside for a few seconds before he got
up and walked into the lounge area of the cabin to pull back the curtain at the
window.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It was his exhibitionist neighbors, of course, and
they seemed to be dancing a particularly erotic tango wearing nothing but a
pair of Speedos each.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh stared. Erik had Freddie around the waist with
one arm, one thigh thrust between his as he marched him backward, dropped him
and caught him, before he leaned over to press a kiss to his lips as Freddie
shrieked in delight.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh let the curtain fall back. Jesus Christ, was this
what he could look forward to for the next two weeks—Erik and Freddie rubbing
his face in his loneliness at every opportunity? He hated them both.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A shower didn’t help his sour mood, nor did a glance
at his watch that told him he’d missed breakfast. Cursing, he pulled on linen
shorts and a T-shirt, then left the cabin to seek out the dining room in the
hope of getting a snack.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He was soon lost on the vast ship. He hadn’t put on
suntan lotion and the mid-morning sun was hot enough to burn. Perspiring, he
cursed his way around the cruise liner, his bad temper growing and his stomach
growling.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I
want to go home. I want to go back to Alaska where it’s cold and I can hide
away. What the hell was I thinking of coming here?<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He finally made it to the enormous dining room only to
be confronted by a closed sign on the glass door with the time for lunch, which
was two hours away.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Great.
Just fucking great</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">. Josh caught sight of a woman in uniform
within and pushed open the door. “Hi there, I missed breakfast and wondered if
I could get—”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“We’re closed, sir.” The woman didn’t pause in
polishing the cutlery.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I know that, but—”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“We open at twelve for lunch.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yes, I know, but if I could just—”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m sorry, sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Come on.” Josh’s frustration boiled and his stomach
complained. The woman turned away, disappearing into the kitchen. “Goddamn it.”
Josh swung around and almost bumped into a man standing behind him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He was late thirties or early forties, tall—at least
six-foot-two, maybe six inches taller than Josh—and solid, his chest and
shoulders broad. He had short, jet black hair and a lightly tanned complexion.
His eyes were an unusual shade of gray with hints of amethyst, and his full
mouth was sarcastic and sensual. He carried a haughty expression, and he wore a
white uniform with gold buttons and epaulets, holding a hat under one arm.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh presumed him to be a crew member and disliked him
on sight despite his obvious physical attributes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“What sort of show are you running here anyway?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The man arched a sardonic brow. “Excuse me?” He was a
fellow American.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I can’t get anything to eat. I’ve had nothing since
the plane last night.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Is that so?” The man seemed coolly amused. His
sarcastic mouth twitched.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yes, I missed breakfast.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Perhaps you should get up earlier?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Excuse me?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I said—”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I heard what you said. Are you always so rude to the
passengers?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Only the spoilt demanding ones.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh stared. He was almost incandescent with anger.
“I’m going to speak to your captain right now and maybe he’ll feed me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">An arrogant smirk curled the sensual mouth. “<i>I’ll </i>feed you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Fine. Cabin twenty-five. Eggs, toast, coffee, juice.
No meat.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“You don’t eat meat? That’s a shame.” The man held
steady eye contact.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">In the silence, Josh felt the blood rise to his face.
Had he heard right? That would be something else to complain to the captain
about. That his rude first mate or whatever the hell he was, went around making
lewd and suggestive comments to passengers. He stalked past the man and left
the dining room.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">After only fifteen minutes, a knock came at his cabin
door. Josh was only slightly calmer, but his blood surged once more as he swung
open the door to be confronted with the same arrogant crew member.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The man had a silver trolley with him. He smiled, the
sunlight catching violet sparks in his gray eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sir,” he said, his tone mocking.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Biting his tongue, Josh stepped aside so the man could
enter. He pushed the trolley into the center of the room, then looked back at
Josh expectantly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“What?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Don’t I get a tip?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">If the man hadn’t been several inches taller than him
and full of muscle, Josh probably would have punched him at that point.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Tell me where I can find the captain,” he said
through his teeth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">There was the arrogant smirk again. “Top deck, follow
the signs for the bridge.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“And your name?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Kessler.” The gray eyes were like ice now.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Fine. Expect a complaint, Mr. Kessler.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Can’t wait.” He turned and closed the door behind
him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh sat down to his belated breakfast. He removed the
cover from his scrambled eggs and stared at the red rose lying on the side of
his plate. <i>What the fuck?</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The bridge was at the other end of the ship. Josh
approached it with his anger slightly abated but still simmering. He stepped
inside the bustling room and approached the first man in uniform he saw.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’m looking for the captain.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“What’s it about?” the man asked. “He’s kind of busy
right now. Perhaps I can—”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I’d like to make a complaint.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The man’s already ramrod-straight back stiffened.
“He’s over there.” He gestured to the far side of the room.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A tall, broad-shouldered man in white stood by the
window. Josh stepped forward. He had almost negotiated the distance between
them when another man shouted across the room.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Captain Kessler, phone call for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh froze in his tracks. The man at the window turned
around. “One moment.” Then he saw Josh. His sarcastic mouth widened into a
dazzling grin, his teeth perfect and pearly. His eyes remained cold. “Well,
hello there, Mr. Addison, I hope you enjoyed your breakfast. Are you here to
make your complaint?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh hovered, all composure gone. He hadn’t told this
man his name. The guy had obviously looked him up on the passenger manifesto. “You
lied to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Did I?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“You didn’t tell me you were the captain.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“You didn’t ask.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh clenched one fist. “Who’s your superior?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I don’t have a superior at sea,” the captain said
mildly. “I’m in charge.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“And on shore?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Captain Kessler’s eyes were cold steel. “I’ll have the
contact details of my employer sent to you. There’s Wi-Fi in your cabin. If you
don’t have a laptop, you’re welcome to use mine to email them.” He stared Josh
down.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh thought of the sardonic, demonically handsome
captain bringing around his own personal laptop for him to make a complaint,
and the idea of being alone with the man in his cabin again was almost more
than he could bear. His shorts tightened uncontrollably.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“That won’t be necessary,” he muttered and turned his
back, fleeing. The captain had won and Josh had made a dick of himself.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Erik and Freddie were having more fun on their private
balcony. Erik had Freddie bent over the railing, seemingly with actual
penetration taking place. Josh couldn’t believe his eyes. Didn’t these guys
ever stop? Unfortunately, the grunts and moans combined with Josh’s existing
reluctant arousal conspired to heat his blood to boiling point.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Freddie glanced over his shoulder at that moment. “Hi,
Josh, be right with you,” he called.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh fidgeted, unsure what to do.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Erik bit Freddie on the neck, thrust him harder into
the railings and came to a stop. Josh saw something spurt into the air and fall
free over the ocean. <i>Christ.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Freddie turned around, grinning, kissing his partner.
Erik moved back and both men rearranged their clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“How’s it going, Josh? Sleep well?” Freddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh sighed. “I’ve had a terrible morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Get your ass over here,” Erik said. “We’re having
margaritas.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Once Josh was settled in a deckchair with a tall glass
in his hand, the full sorry tale of that morning came out. Erik and Freddie
almost fell over laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Christ, the captain. We saw him last night,” Freddie
said. “I’m going to have wet dreams about that guy until Christmas. And I’d
swallow his meat any day, vegetarian or not.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh sank lower in his chair, thinking about his
sexual reaction to the captain. “I hope I never have to see him again.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Why?” Freddie asked. “We’re just hoping if we sit at
the pool every day he’s going to come down in the smallest pair of Speedos
known to man. I’d pay for that shit. In fact, I was thinking of asking him into
a three-way.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Josh stared, slack-jawed. “Is he gay?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Don’t care if he isn’t. I’d suck his cock until he
fucking passed out with pleasure.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Erik squeezed his partner’s knee. “Slut.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I should go.” Josh stood unsteadily. The sun was
scorching, only adding to his light-headedness despite the fact the three of
them sat under an umbrella.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“You going to sit with us tonight at dinner?” Erik
asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Sure, thanks.” Josh was grateful. He had imagined two
weeks dining alone with people whispering about him. He said his goodbyes and
retreated to his cabin, where he lay down on the bed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The captain’s handsome, sardonic face swam into his
mind. Damn him to hell.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
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</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-31161368749306700472023-06-17T06:06:00.001-07:002023-06-17T06:06:39.365-07:00Works in Progress and New Releases<p><b> Release schedule</b></p><p><br /></p><p>1 July </p><p><br /></p><p><b>Falling for the Captain</b>. Released on Amazon 1 July, out everywhere else now.</p><p><b><a href="https://books2read.com/u/3LjBKe" target="_blank">Buy here</a><br /></b></p><p><br /></p><p><b>Works in progress</b></p><p><br /></p><p>Missing in Action (Clear Water Creek Book 4) 10000/35000</p><p><span></span></p><p>Lewis and Nick (working title). Prequel to Heal Me 20734/30000</p><p>Professor Plum (working title) - 3435/21000</p><p>The Captain of his Heart - in editing</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-7276940481672901442023-05-31T12:50:00.000-07:002023-05-31T12:50:49.952-07:00#Work in Progress Wednesday - Professor Plum<p> Here's an excerpt from one of my current WIPs, working title Professor Plum. This is very rough and unedited, as evidenced by the unfinished names in this draft.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwR2JuFaB3VA5gc_mXIitpJcY8H2AjV6hZXi7HPwS7tYcCU5sAT0eRohbc7CRr5pNwNzKHzNODaWPfR-bTDSOfwz2QhRcpHivKYV377Po7L1HpFIMeiKrh8km2HZh2lGy7hxqXYVKHVumawCcePe75kXAY95RVcOCzEmSKu0htzoa0nrd_ZbKwzNKL/s500/professor-plum-6959202-normal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="355" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwR2JuFaB3VA5gc_mXIitpJcY8H2AjV6hZXi7HPwS7tYcCU5sAT0eRohbc7CRr5pNwNzKHzNODaWPfR-bTDSOfwz2QhRcpHivKYV377Po7L1HpFIMeiKrh8km2HZh2lGy7hxqXYVKHVumawCcePe75kXAY95RVcOCzEmSKu0htzoa0nrd_ZbKwzNKL/w284-h400/professor-plum-6959202-normal.jpg" width="284" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Jayden<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ten inebriated students fall about on the makeshift stage,
shoving each other, laughing and generally dicking about. Their high spirits
hide their nervousness, I’m sure of it. I’m more relaxed. I’m standing there
waiting to go to my doom because <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">it is
what it is</i>. My motto. There are bigger things to get riled up about in this
life, like global warming or the dictators having the world in a choke-hold.
This isn’t worth a drop of worried sweat. It’s something I step over on my path
to… whatever. The only way I’ll start to sweat tonight is if I’m auctioned off
to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">him</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I can see him standing at the bar. He sticks out like
a sore thumb, a head taller than most of the men here tonight at six-two or
three. He’s become my nemesis and I want to do all I can to stay under his
radar.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Professor Plum. The jokes have been done to death and
yet they still get whispered as he approaches.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Prof Plum did it with his lead piping over the desk in his study. Prof
Plum shagged Miss Scarlet to death in the library</i>. Yeah, I’ve heard them
all and joined in with them too. It’s more than his name that attracts
attention though. In a sea of stuffy old dons, it’s like someone dumped a male
model in their midst. The first time I saw him, he was striding down the
corridor, tall and lean and rocking a satchel and a suit like no one had the
right to. Every girl’s jaw around me dropped open and some of the guys too. He
left a sea of mass confusion in his wake and I’m not sure anyone’s ever
recovered from it. I know I haven’t.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The boys hate him. They’re trying to get into the
panties of girls who are wet for the Prof and see him as the ultimate in male
sophistication. Why would they want the acne riddled teenagers with the bad
hair and the beard that took them four years to grow? At times they’re unnecessarily
cruel with their jibes and I wonder how much he hears from the front of the
class. And me? Yeah, he’s left my underwear wet too. I’ve had more
uncomfortable tightening of the pants than is healthy at the hands of that man.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I thought I was off his radar for two years until I
finally ended up in his class coming into my third year. He stood there, tall
and commanding at the front of the lecture theatre, talking about Dorian Gray’s
sexuality in that first lecture, his gaze surveying every face in the room,
until they rested on mine and held. “We don’t know if Dorian was lovers with Sir
Henry Wotton and Basil Hallward,” he said, eyes boring into mine. “But they
wished he was.” I felt my face redden. In two years, I had never caught his eye
and now here he was staring at me. I felt like he’d caught me goofing off or
playing on my phone when nothing could have been further from the truth. I was
riveted by his lectures from the start. I know now that the stare was merely a
prelude warning.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The auction is a charity thing and it’s a decades old
tradition in our college. A student gets sold to the highest bidder for the
weekend. The don makes them clean his house or whatever for forty-eight hours,
the charity gets the money and everyone’s happy. The dons undoubtedly use it to
get their own back on wayward students. All the guys think there’s something
seedy about the whole thing though. What started off as innocent years ago has
been tarnished by perverts suggesting the dons are out for young flesh. Lots of
crude jokes about being made to go down on our knees within the hour are flying
around the stage and I shudder at the idea it could actually happen. A thought
drifts into my mind and I try unsuccessfully to shove it away. Down on my knees
for him, his hand tangling in my hair and urging me on.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">For the record, I’m not gay. I see you smirking now
after I just confessed to a hard-on for the Plummeister. He’s the only guy who’s
ever got me hard and I’ve never been with a guy. Okay, I accept my feelings for
the Prof make me a tiny bit gay. I haven’t discussed the little crush pricking
at me with anyone, not even Max, my best friend. Max is up on stage with me and
panting to get picked by the Prof. He’s pansexual, which I think means he
fancies everybody and boy, does he fancy Prof Plum. The guy eats, sleeps and
breathes the Prof. He’s crushed hard for two years straight and shows no signs
of letting up. He’s told me he’s going to get picked by Plum tonight and he’s
going to be his willing sexual slave. I groaned at this and tried not to have
images of Max on all fours being serviced by the Prof. Max constantly attempts
to guess the Professor’s sexuality. He’s sure his well-groomed status points to
him being gay. The other lads say he couldn’t possibly ever get any, closeted
as he is here. Max wept at the idea that the Prof might be ace. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Someone taps a microphone. The fucking dean. What a
headcase that guy is. I would not want to encounter him in a dark alleyway. He’s
someone else whose radar I’ve tried to stay off and I’ve been successful so
far, unless Plum’s been for a quiet word in his ear. I shiver at the thought.
He’s introducing the auction. He’s a small, thin man with a bad rug who by all
accounts starts a meeting off as your best friend and ends it with the walls of
his office shaking. Similar to what the Prof did to me, I guess, on our first
official meeting.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I look around the gathered masses. The function room
in the X hotel is packed with students and teachers. Never have I felt more out
of place as the token Yank as now. Five years over here and still feeling like
an outsider, even with my best Brit slang and swear words. I straighten myself
up. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It is what it is.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The Dean declares the auction open. Bidding starts
with Max. I try to make myself invisible on the back line of students, hoping
Max gets the Prof so it’s his wet dream come true, and simultaneously hoping he
doesn’t, because I might explode with jealousy. I’ve reminded Max several times
that we don’t know if the Prof is even going to bid and more to the point, why
would he? He looks at us all like we’re something on the bottom of his shoe;
why would he want a scruffy student stinking up his rooms all weekend?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Do I hear fifty pounds?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I really hope we fucking do, or Max will be crushed.
Shit, I’ll bid for himself even though I’ll be paying off my student loan till
I’m seventy, if it means Max isn’t humiliated. But someone’s put a hand up. It’s
kindly Professor Grier, a man who dishes out tea and crumpets in his office
rather than reprimands. A don we all estimate to be eighty, if he’s a day and
who we all love like a grandad. There’s a few mutters behind us, but no one
dares joke about Prof Grier being a paedo because that would be beyond the
pale. Some of the other dons maybe, him, never. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Max turns and gives me a tremulous smile and I grin
back to reassure him. He’ll be glad to get someone as undemanding as Prof
Grier, but I know he’ll be devastated if a certain other Professor doesn’t bid.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I squint beyond the lights at the tall figure leaning
casually against the bar and sipping wine. He’s alone and aloof, as he often
is. Of course I’ve noticed his routine. He lives in rooms at the college so I’m
told, and doesn’t seem to socialize. Very rarely one might see him in the
canteen. I feel a pang of pity for him. Is this life the one he willingly
chose? But why would I pity him? Look at him! He’s the most attractive thing I’ve
ever seen in my life. Am I actually worrying he doesn’t get laid? Just because
there’s no gossip about him, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have pussy or cock coming
out of his ears. Look at all his admirers, in my year alone. Some of those
students must have made a move on him and he’d be only human to accept. But I haven’t
heard a single scandalous story about him, not one. And the college is fertile breeding
ground for gossip. He seems oblivious to his many admirers. He doesn’t seem to
wear the knowledge of his beauty like a cloak of arrogance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I jerk my attention back to Max getting another bid,
this time from Professor X, a jolly woman in her sixties with loud earrings.
Poor Max. Two great offers but hardly the stuff wet dreams are made from. The
tall figure at the bar is watching with something approaching boredom on his
face. I catch his eye and quickly look away. He’s not going to bid on anyone.
Why would he? Why is he even here? Prof Grier’s pushed the bid up to two
hundred quid. It’s going once, going twice and Max is sold to much applause.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He flashes me a disappointed smile and leaves the
stage. Prof Grier claps him on the shoulder and leads him to the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Next up is Yasmin Y, a girl who lives on the same
floor as me with a passion for Emily Bronte. She and I have flirted a few times
on nights out but it’s never got further. She’s pretty. Maybe Prof Plum will
show his (straight) hand and bid for her. Then again, he’d be mad to. What
would it say about him as the youngest and best looking member of the faculty by
a mile if he bid on the best looking girl in the year? Lecherous pervert, that’s
what. What about if he bid on me? Would that be safer? I’ve been told I’m
pretty hot. Would he be a lecherous gay pervert if he bid on the pretty boy who
attends his lectures or do people’s minds not think down the same warped
directions as mine?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Yasmin is curiously short on bids, which confirms the
twitchy nature of the faculty staff. Why this stupid event is still going in
this day and age where you can’t say or do anything for fear of offending someone’s
sensibilities is beyond me. Just the word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">slave</i>
has too many connotations for too many people. This was such a bad idea. I can
tell when I glance at Prof Plum that he’s thinking the same. Eventually one of
the senior lecturers, Molly, bids on her, a woman with bright red hair in her
thirties and a love of all Russian literature. Yasmin looks both thrilled and
relieved, and steps down.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Now I’m cringing amongst the other seven students.
Reader, I didn’t sign up for this voluntarily. Max begged me. He only has to
turn those puppy dog eyes on me and I’m putty to his wishes. He’s an earl’s son
with more money than sense and a cartload of mental health issues. I love him
dearly, and that’s why I’m standing up here. I can’t help but think I’m not
going to get one single bid.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I hope I’m not lost. I turn my attention to the Dean
who singles me out. It’s my turn. I’m glad to get it over with. Max give me a
thumbs up from his seat across the room at X’s table. My legs feel unsteady. I
hate the attention. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Let’s start the bidding at fifty pounds.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">There’s silence. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Once more the Prof’s gaze catches mine and our eyes
hold for several seconds, during which everything around me recedes. I can’t
breathe. The chatter of the room and its music fades away and there’s only him
watching me. With a breath, I tear my focus from him and look around. Everyone’s
watching me; no one is bidding. Oh God, what’s wrong with me? Are people afraid
to bid, the way they were with Yasmin? Are they worried they’ll put out the
wrong message? Inside, I shrivel with mortification. I take a step to the side
of the stage, intent on running and never coming back. Then once more, I catch
his eyes, and slowly, watching me, he raises his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-941532412681697112023-05-26T06:09:00.003-07:002023-05-26T06:09:23.967-07:00Works in Progress and New Releases <p><b>New Releases</b></p><p>28 May</p><p><b>Healing</b> - bonus scene to Heal Me, 13k, free with my newsletter</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKqGHUcfLLZGH89IvIh3BhPynHghUcbbuKQgLOvQU2-5fbKCr5QAl0g5tpxXXHRWlf5S81S9xw8-5RI2JhYj92wZazfco_HmdV4wZx6NmBzITO-niUVhEwjenSrZvFbEY2S354R9omDB_LpKyEonKvchQMXzCHKBimQcLHn5uOAnsbj0JFLRejFeP/s2560/BookBrushImage-2023-5-9-18-3816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKqGHUcfLLZGH89IvIh3BhPynHghUcbbuKQgLOvQU2-5fbKCr5QAl0g5tpxXXHRWlf5S81S9xw8-5RI2JhYj92wZazfco_HmdV4wZx6NmBzITO-niUVhEwjenSrZvFbEY2S354R9omDB_LpKyEonKvchQMXzCHKBimQcLHn5uOAnsbj0JFLRejFeP/w250-h400/BookBrushImage-2023-5-9-18-3816.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>1 June</p><p><b>Save Me</b> - 80k novel<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSumszEp3cwbt8pSDMq2fPdPMw40Nq-f9p6MUBNOtbl_IO-aCnhXhxTHo4l1S_KF6REuaIcBAk3QmAF-msqCdUtE4p1WYT98SvklOCxTqLpBrJBuW_UYLHA9uxDKTMkdU4aLXInyru-dPtTHsAGjHl3tzoqLHAj0PQhIjSz691dxG9m4IIRqxbRhQT/s2400/SAVE%20ME%20(1600x2400).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSumszEp3cwbt8pSDMq2fPdPMw40Nq-f9p6MUBNOtbl_IO-aCnhXhxTHo4l1S_KF6REuaIcBAk3QmAF-msqCdUtE4p1WYT98SvklOCxTqLpBrJBuW_UYLHA9uxDKTMkdU4aLXInyru-dPtTHsAGjHl3tzoqLHAj0PQhIjSz691dxG9m4IIRqxbRhQT/w266-h400/SAVE%20ME%20(1600x2400).jpg" width="266" /></a></div><p></p><span><!--more--></span><p><br /></p><p>3 June onwards at all retailers</p><p><b>The Golden-Haired Boy</b> - 21k novella</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxzUtoJcwo24IRTFzZPk0f91PX8fOBJqvnMLM1T6ZB2cSDYP0lcxrOQHswpXQ_IS-bxaAiqb3PMlGFoR0c7Gl8LdEpxMMPF9roDHMd1Yjt4Fye1XCufsDDCvJ7BCv3dfacxiABG3qPnSLhrkZJVmwrPxH3Pcd4tEIPzFYP2gvLI21879VEQhWEhR3/s2560/Goldenhairedboy_Am.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxzUtoJcwo24IRTFzZPk0f91PX8fOBJqvnMLM1T6ZB2cSDYP0lcxrOQHswpXQ_IS-bxaAiqb3PMlGFoR0c7Gl8LdEpxMMPF9roDHMd1Yjt4Fye1XCufsDDCvJ7BCv3dfacxiABG3qPnSLhrkZJVmwrPxH3Pcd4tEIPzFYP2gvLI21879VEQhWEhR3/w250-h400/Goldenhairedboy_Am.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><b>Works in progress</b></p><p><br /></p><p>Missing in Action (Clear Water Creek Book 4) 8512/35000</p><p><span></span></p><p>Lewis and Nick (working title). Prequel to Heal Me 14000/30000</p><p>Falling for the Captain - in editing </p><p>Professor Plum (working title) - 2685/21000</p><p>The Captain of his Heart - in editing</p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-10087284331650453022023-05-12T12:06:00.001-07:002023-05-12T12:08:14.470-07:00Coming this month with my newsletter - Healing: a Matt and James storySet two days after the close of Heal Me, this is a bonus scene of 13k+ words featuring Matt and James, along with secondary characters Lewis and Nick, who will soon get their own story.<div><br /><span></span><span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeF82qaMUIx02Elksv8DnKBnSFfzZuUHOWiGI0StWeSMdzzfECrToya2UefpY1iHpCQHlO4Ix1ufzh-7PHEYSi2Lu6mc4i06QiCiLeybYHZ2eXsHi_ALbkaM27C5QKQuZy211ZODcGAv3_DlD8a7pDObwQpqs4CETc08e4P2Af0mN-4ERBueoDz7pz/s2560/BookBrushImage-2023-5-9-18-3816.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeF82qaMUIx02Elksv8DnKBnSFfzZuUHOWiGI0StWeSMdzzfECrToya2UefpY1iHpCQHlO4Ix1ufzh-7PHEYSi2Lu6mc4i06QiCiLeybYHZ2eXsHi_ALbkaM27C5QKQuZy211ZODcGAv3_DlD8a7pDObwQpqs4CETc08e4P2Af0mN-4ERBueoDz7pz/w250-h400/BookBrushImage-2023-5-9-18-3816.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br /><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Subscribers to my newsletter will get a link in the email to download the book. If you would like to subscribe to my (non-spammy) monthly newsletter please click <a href="https://subscribepage.io/zftiqV" target="_blank">here</a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE2j6ZHxrkGg9EH3m2vuiLux4ME2ueV1GLYvMbunrOomF8yAhRn1_mg4CZWIj5gjU_jbpF5aesAVs2_sZFTCJUZ1Fy9Yc2sU2Bp_jgy3xJ3t3R3Ma6v8_-0DQrVCScbPGALj71EQClALgyq-dBDYe6H5LALF8oMDKIC_IInFSZ3xbVBUtTNPs76_GH/s1200/NL1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="628" data-original-width="1200" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE2j6ZHxrkGg9EH3m2vuiLux4ME2ueV1GLYvMbunrOomF8yAhRn1_mg4CZWIj5gjU_jbpF5aesAVs2_sZFTCJUZ1Fy9Yc2sU2Bp_jgy3xJ3t3R3Ma6v8_-0DQrVCScbPGALj71EQClALgyq-dBDYe6H5LALF8oMDKIC_IInFSZ3xbVBUtTNPs76_GH/w400-h209/NL1.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>My newsletter also features coupons for discounts off my books and will have bonus content going forward.</div><div><br /></div><div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-85233786062912501062023-05-02T04:31:00.002-07:002023-05-02T04:34:01.808-07:00Save Me: Cover reveal and excerpt<p> Out 1 June</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgu1SdektgL3Nb-ewnjJhjr7_VKRmRbIt-eZhxtZ_sTRHleQ2Zqh9CdcCFbZ8po4TSrYsiU3n-GAhyHfsuh2ie0W_QRReFNUvJgEg4zi9Gm9rI4thxL2xsrvNUWYHWkawk1sse9cF__1cVS-Kib6kLJYmFZaNl4zJAAHwsI5oiZAZn5DV8ESV85Du0/s2400/SAVE%20ME%20(1600x2400).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgu1SdektgL3Nb-ewnjJhjr7_VKRmRbIt-eZhxtZ_sTRHleQ2Zqh9CdcCFbZ8po4TSrYsiU3n-GAhyHfsuh2ie0W_QRReFNUvJgEg4zi9Gm9rI4thxL2xsrvNUWYHWkawk1sse9cF__1cVS-Kib6kLJYmFZaNl4zJAAHwsI5oiZAZn5DV8ESV85Du0/w266-h400/SAVE%20ME%20(1600x2400).jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br /><p>Dark themes. Observe content warnings.</p><p>Blurb:</p><p><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The man I see in the
mirror now wears nice suits and has an expensive haircut. I like to think he
doesn’t look like a whore, but then I never study his eyes too closely. I can’t
bear to.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Morgan Martin is a high class rent boy with a dark
past. No kissing on the mouth is his cardinal rule and he sticks to it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Logan Madden is his new client, a man with touch
and trust issues, </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">bringing his own past traumas to a
bed that’s soon awash with guilt and memories as well as explosive passion.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">And he’s a cop.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> <o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Against his better judgment, Morgan takes him on.
Things soon become complicated. Rules are made to be broken and soon the two of
them are falling deep into something neither of them can control.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I want to ask him to be
something he was never supposed to be.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 269.55pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Morgan isn’t free to be with anyone. He’s in thrall
to the gangster who runs Moonlight Cove, the man who hurts him and beats him,
and demands his utter loyalty. Keeping this from Logan becomes harder and
harder until all their lives are shattered by fallout no one could have
predicted.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Possible
Spoilers:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Themes:
hurt/comfort, angst, crime<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Genre:
Dark, gritty contemporary crime romance</span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Warnings:
Violence and strong language. Sexual scenes. Abuse. Harrowing scenes and death. Drug
abuse. Alcoholism. Prostitution. Historical child abuse. Cheating. Voyeurism.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB"><a href="https://books2read.com/u/4DJe1d"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Buy here</span></a></span><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p><b>Excerpt:</b></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">May
2011</span></i></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It’s Tuesday night. I’m sitting in the bar
of the Seaview hotel in Moonlight Cove. It’s an upmarket place, expensive, but
I know the manager, Michael, and he lets me rent a room by the hour. For favors
obviously. I think he’s half in love with me and I try not to encourage him,
but what can a man do? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Tonight, I’m meeting a man named Logan. He
found me via my website as most people do these days, now I’ve reinvented
myself as high-class after years of hanging around on street corners as the
lowest kind of rent boy. My website is tasteful—no naked shots or anything as
crass as cock size or prices. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I’m not choosy about being with men or
women. The women are harder to please than the men. I always seem to get the
ones who can’t come during penetrative sex. Maybe that’s why they come to me,
seeing as my oral skills are legendary. I’ve never sent a woman home without an
orgasm and I’ve had ladies crying in gratitude on their way out the door
because they’ve never come in their lives before. That’s quite a satisfying
part of the job I can tell you.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">As for men, well, I like men. I like to
get fucked by men, but men are selfish creatures not looking to please the guy
they just paid to get them off. And why should they? It’s all about them after
all. I’m there to provide the service.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Logan sounded nervous and hesitant on the
phone yesterday. At my most professional, I took charge of the situation,
telling him I would meet him in the bar at this hotel. I told him we would have
a drink, and then go up to the room if that was okay with him. He agreed and
then I ran through a list of prices and asked him what he wanted.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He was silent for a long time and then
finally he said, in the lowest voice, “I don’t know.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I formed a mental image of him. Either a
married guy in his thirties, or a very young virgin with no sexual experience
at all, trying to come to terms with the fact that he was gay. He didn’t sound
that young though. Either way, it sounded like a nice easy night for me.
Nothing to place too much pressure on me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“That’s okay,” I reassured him. “Is it
likely to be anything not on that list?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“All right. Then we’ll discuss it in
further detail when we meet. What’s your name by the way?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Logan.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Okay, Logan, I’ll see you on Tuesday.
Looking forward to it.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I’m sitting at the bar with a vodka,
eyeing the door, when a man walks into the room and my glance turns to a stare.
<i>Holy fuck</i>. He’s maybe in his late
thirties and tall, perhaps six feet two, and all muscle, his biceps straining
the smart black shirt he wears. His black hair is pushed back from his pale
face with styling products and gleams under the lights. He’s handsome as all
holy hell and I can’t take my eyes off him. Neither can some of the other
patrons in the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> He
pauses and looks around for a moment, and it feels like my heart jumps into my
mouth. I really can’t be so lucky, can I?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Then his gaze focuses on me and he starts
to walk toward me and, oh my God, my cock actually twitches. <i>No, surely not? Oh my God, yes! Fucking yes!</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I swallow, wipe my damp palms on my pants
and smile as he reaches me. “Logan?” I try not to stare, try not to let him see
how hot I find him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He nods. His smile is tight, his teeth
kept prisoner behind his lips. He holds out a hand. It’s larger than mine and I
feel the power of his body in his handshake. I feel arousal too. My cock starts
to harden. <i>Fuck.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He slides onto the stool next to me and
stares straight ahead, rather than looking at me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“What can I get you?” I ask.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Jack and Coke.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Same again for me.” I gesture to the
barkeep with my empty glass. He nods. He’s used to seeing me sitting here with
different people every day. He never comments. He starts to pour me another
vodka. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">My client’s body is held so stiffly in his
seat he must be hurting. The tension radiating from him in palpable.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Have you come far tonight?” I don’t
particularly like the small talk. I don’t want to find out about my client’s
life because they will then become real to me and I’d rather they weren’t. I
have to keep something of myself apart from this job.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Laguna,” he says without looking at me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Not too far then.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The barkeep places our drinks in front of
us. Both of us take a gulp at the same time. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“What do you do for a living?” I don’t
give a fuck what he does. I want him upstairs in that room and I want to earn
my money and go home. However, with him looking the way he does, it doesn’t
feel like it’s going to be too much of a chore. Maybe this talking is a nice
form of foreplay.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He glances at me then and his eyes are an
odd color, like honey, with tinges of green and amber, fringed with dense
lashes. They change color when he turns his head to the light. God, he’s
absolutely beautiful. Why the hell does a man like him need to come to a man
like me? This kind of client comes once in a lifetime, no pun intended.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I can’t really tell you that,” he says.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Alarm bells go off in my mind. “If you’re
in any kind of law enforcement, you need to turn around and walk back out of
here.” My tone is sharp. “I haven’t entered into any kind of contract with you
and I’ve done nothing wrong.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Logan gives a sigh. He folds his hands
together on the bar, his knuckles white. “Okay, I’m a cop.” I slide from the
stool. He reaches out, grips my wrist. “Don’t. I’m not here to arrest you. When
we go up to the room, you can check I’m not wearing a wire and I’m not carrying
my badge or my gun.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I heave a breath, still poised to flee.
“This is fucked up.” I grab my drink and down half of it. “What the fuck are
you doing here?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He swallows and turns to look forward
again, watching me in the mirror behind the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Realizing he’s not going to answer, I try
again. “How can I trust you?” But even as I say the words, I’m thinking of
Logan in uniform. To say I have a fetish is an understatement. I’ve been
arrested for soliciting a couple of times, and honestly, they were the hottest
moments of my life, to be handcuffed and manhandled by a cop. My eyes have
probably gone glassy at the memory. I’ve never fucked a cop and I’ve always
wanted to.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“How can I trust you?” he replies and our
eyes meet. “It works both ways.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“What’s your full name?” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Logan Madden.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“And that’s your real name? Logan Madden?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yes.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“And you’re on the force in Laguna Beach?”
<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yes. There. I’m not much of a threat to
you now, am I? You could ruin me. Sit down.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I slide back onto my stool and look at him
skeptically. I wonder why he would want to give me so much information. But I
feel reassured by his honesty. Sometimes my trouble is I trust people too well.
Which is usually when I end up getting really hurt in my line of work. This
nervous and apparently shy man could probably snap me in half like a twig. I’m
an idiot for even still thinking of seeing this through. Am I really going to
go up that room with him?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I finish my drink and the alcohol swarms
through my veins. Too strong and too much. I like to drink, I can’t lie, but I
usually restrict it before work. It isn’t professional to attempt to please
someone when drunk. However, on the times I only have to lie there and provide
a hole, the alcohol is quite welcome. He’s finishing his drink a little slower
than me. The silence between us is awkward. Am I going to do it? Yes, I fucking
am. I want him and I’m going to get paid for the privilege.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Shall we?” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He nods and down the rest of his drink in
one. We slide together from our stools and he follows me out of the bar. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">We walk across the spacious lobby to the
elevator. I thought he might have wanted to go up to the room separately, but
he says nothing, just steps inside the car with me and focuses his gaze on the
illuminated buttons as they change on our way up to the eighth floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He follows me to the door and I swipe it
open with my key card and enter, holding the door open for him. Once that door
swings shut behind him, nerves hit me full force. I’ve learned to conquer them
by telling myself I’m in control. They’ve come to me and they’re paying,
therefore I’m in charge. Even when I’m face down being hurt, I’m in charge. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Yeah,
keep telling yourself that.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He glances around the room. It’s a nice
spacious place with a king size bed, a desk and a couple of chairs. The
bathroom has a shower big enough for two.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I look out the window for a moment, across
the boulevard to the fiery sun sinking into the ocean, then turn and face him.
“What do you want?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He stands looking at me. He’s a couple of
inches bigger than me and bulkier. I feel small in comparison and a little
threatened. He could hurt me all right. He still doesn’t seem to know what he
wants. Why hasn’t he made up his mind? Other people have done this though, and I’ve
had to tease out their wants and needs because they’ve been unable to vocalize
it. Maybe this guy’s desires are so depraved he can’t put them into words.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“A blow job?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He bites his lip and looks away. “Yeah.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“All right. What else?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Just a blow job.” He’s studying his shoes
rather than looking at me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“That’s it?” I think it’s strange to come
all this way to a hooker as expensive as me and just get a blow job, but then
again, I know a lot of men would take a blow job over penetrative sex any day.
Sometimes it’s a no-brainer. Not just that, but he’s not on a huge wage as a
cop and a blow job will save him money.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I shrug, because that’s fine by me, but
I’m baffled why a man as hot as him would come to me and pay such a price for a
blow job when he could have gone out to any club and got one for free. Maybe
he’s kinky. Maybe paying for it, feeling in control, turns him on. But he’s
not. <i>I</i> am. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Okay.” I don’t ask for money up front,
I’m not as crass as that. He knows how much it is and I expect him to pay at
the end. “Do you want me to take my clothes off?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yes.” He moves toward the bed, still
avoiding eye contact. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I slide my jacket off and start to unknot
my tie. “You’ll have to empty your pockets and lift your shirt up. I want to
see you’re not wired or packing something.” The only thing Logan’s packing is
the considerable bulge in his tight pants. This is really just an excuse to
perv at him, because I get the feeling he’s not going to be undressing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He doesn’t complain about this. He tosses wallet,
cell and car keys from his pants pockets onto the desk before turning them
inside out. Then he lifts his shirt up his midriff, exposing such an expanse of
hard, sculpted flesh that my mouth almost falls open. He turns around so I can
see his back, too, and my eyes slide down and focus on his ripe ass. It’s all I
can do not to groan. When he turns back around and catches my gaze lifting up
again, I’m embarrassed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I start to unfasten my shirt. “I need to
point out some rules I have for everyone, and which I don’t break, not under
any circumstances. I don’t ride bareback and I don’t kiss on the mouth.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He nods. Perhaps he wonders what this has
to do with him, but in my experience guys who come for <i>just a blow job</i> usually end up balls-deep in me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Do you want to take your clothes off?” I
pull my shirt off and toss it on a nearby chair.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“No.” His gaze slides over my torso. I
work out four days a week and I keep myself meticulously waxed. No one has any
complaints with me. I’ve embellished on what nature was kind enough to give me
in the first place, and I know I’ll never be accused of being beaten with the
ugly stick.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Are you sure? Don’t you want me to touch
you anywhere else?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He shakes his head. He lies down full
length on the bed with his legs dangling off the end and unfastens his pants. I
watch. He wears tight white briefs and his cock is barely contained. I stare as
he hooks the waistband down so he can free it. It’s strange that he doesn’t
want to be naked when his body’s in such impressive condition. I’m riveted by
the sight of his half-hard dick in his hand as he fondles it a little. Logan’s
a big boy. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I can’t remember when I last found a
client so hot. To think I’m actually going to get paid to suck his cock when,
if I had met him in a bar, I would have done it for free without doubt. I’m
disappointed he doesn’t want more. The idea of being fucked by him is very
appealing. Perhaps I should try my hand at persuading him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-65547529448171199062023-04-29T07:40:00.003-07:002023-04-29T13:44:24.813-07:00Selling M/M books wide and putting all your eggs in one basket<p> Amazon is a giant, and most MM readers buy their content there. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IeG1GGjypewul8Ykpm9k22Q6qw2EBWw7iWZ8HvRNQFvqtr7mo_MeIfhkKMpB5CuUrtYlzgrk68vaY7W1u-oSuqq9jcD57Z-HIutStRn1wUIh1xhphITS6XhBVurqXcIZ3FMvOCBD4Hp05XGYebhEA7w5PsppXQdkRhhRGylOBztAdie4GVb3SDAW/s540/manbook11.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="522" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IeG1GGjypewul8Ykpm9k22Q6qw2EBWw7iWZ8HvRNQFvqtr7mo_MeIfhkKMpB5CuUrtYlzgrk68vaY7W1u-oSuqq9jcD57Z-HIutStRn1wUIh1xhphITS6XhBVurqXcIZ3FMvOCBD4Hp05XGYebhEA7w5PsppXQdkRhhRGylOBztAdie4GVb3SDAW/w386-h400/manbook11.jpg" width="386" /></a></div><br /><span><a name='more'></a></span>But things are not okay. Amazon has been shutting down author accounts with no reason given. They have raised their subscription rates for KU but lowered their payouts to authors. Many authors, like me, rely on their Amazon royalties, but these could all disappear on a whim.<p></p><p><b>Smashwords</b> are a reliable digital platform that I've been with for years. They publish taboo and forbidden books writers can't put onto Amazon. (Even putting words like rape in CWs on Amazon can get you banned). They distribute to Apple books and Kobo, amongst others. <b>Kobo</b> have just announced Kobo plus, where you can borrow unlimited books a month for $7.99. The author does not have to place their books exclusively with Kobo.</p><p><b>Eden bookstore</b> publish taboo and forbidden as well as other romance and have a subscription service.</p><p>These are just a few alternatives to Amazon. It's not good for one platform to have such a monopoly, but it's not easy for readers to choose to go elsewhere when Amazon have KU and books are so expensive.</p><p>A lot of authors are taking their books out of KU. I am exploring the option and will be taking some books wide. I have always had some books that are available only on Smashwords and not on Amazon.</p><p>Here is my <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/scarletblackwell" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> page.</p><p>Here is my<a href="https://edenbookstore.com/author/scarlet-blackwell/" target="_blank"> Eden bookstore</a> page. </p><p>I will also be selling books at my own shop.</p><p>I hope fans of my work will support myself and other authors who decide to sell on multiple platforms. I will be offering discounts on my books on Smashwords to newsletter subscribers, starting this month.</p><p>The following books are leaving KU next month:</p><p>Love is Blind</p><p>Inferno</p><p>You can subscribe to my newsletter <a href="https://dl.bookfunnel.com/8nqzp10twb" target="_blank">here</a></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-32512599596875530882023-04-23T05:29:00.000-07:002023-04-23T05:29:04.161-07:00Now out in paperback<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhahxjeRL2v-wsihcIXC47I7JtsZS_JFIusrCqv9wRWi23uh01S3PCsFSTP9FLcTtbiAoHPX_c5bsyABsNUFPAscFFDt32NLv3sib-wM8SHYW4g1ZZHSr6Vgi8AoJ9frpTqW-znZqH6fzwByt_lM2A2WRC4h9xpCKZgfUtqvhOdrhJNFebNEMUjMrGD/s1080/inferno%20promo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhahxjeRL2v-wsihcIXC47I7JtsZS_JFIusrCqv9wRWi23uh01S3PCsFSTP9FLcTtbiAoHPX_c5bsyABsNUFPAscFFDt32NLv3sib-wM8SHYW4g1ZZHSr6Vgi8AoJ9frpTqW-znZqH6fzwByt_lM2A2WRC4h9xpCKZgfUtqvhOdrhJNFebNEMUjMrGD/w400-h400/inferno%20promo.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C2S855MK" target="_blank">Buy here</a><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-28248135904062674882023-04-22T03:26:00.004-07:002023-04-22T03:26:56.075-07:00Protect Me - Coming 1 May - Blurb and Excerpt<p> <b>Protect Me is Coming 1 May</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmRg19Jo1na0gxTargvi-jaDNmQCrEWjCLxr4Znh6H2kC0DquabOvx7RkYIBBkXLZpGNzFUFJGr4Ew67jQcIkDjUfTdmHTaBKojEji6vI9vQTnuwr7sfhHKo4il8ajM3SMUozubXRB9101ntufUeXfGHYGpZ817mMPfBhRtrDWf69yMnRyh-v2AlAD/s2400/PROTECT%20ME%20(1600x2400).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmRg19Jo1na0gxTargvi-jaDNmQCrEWjCLxr4Znh6H2kC0DquabOvx7RkYIBBkXLZpGNzFUFJGr4Ew67jQcIkDjUfTdmHTaBKojEji6vI9vQTnuwr7sfhHKo4il8ajM3SMUozubXRB9101ntufUeXfGHYGpZ817mMPfBhRtrDWf69yMnRyh-v2AlAD/w266-h400/PROTECT%20ME%20(1600x2400).jpg" width="266" /></a></b></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He was supposed to be a man from a tough world of
crime and danger. But he’d never fitted that image he was supposed to portray. He’d
always felt lost and out of his depth, like he was forever treading water.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Kayden
Cole – ex-junkie, one-time gangster’s toy and…birdwatcher<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Mason
Pearce – the Miami narcotics detective assigned to protect Kayden while he
turns state’s evidence<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Never had he wanted to
protect and cherish someone the way he did Kayden.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Mason
likes his men big, brawny and brainless. Kayden’s ten years younger, short and
slight. He’s also cerebral, introverted, and haunted by his past. Mason can’t
understand his instant attraction but it’s like being struck by a thunderbolt.
Closeted alone in a hotel room with Kayden for twelve hours every night, Mason
is driven beyond the edge of his control, but he’ll lose his job and compromise
Kayden’s safety if he tangles with him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He was back to the lowest
place he had ever been—alone with nothing and nobody— and if someone wanted to
put him out of his misery, that was just fine</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Kayden’s
damaged and scarred and in fear of his life. He lost the only man who ever
meant anything to him and he’s suspicious of the cop’s motives. But Mason
burrows beneath his skin, opens Kayden up and even though he’s scared, he wants
to hope that finally, life will give him a break.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Possible Spoilers:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Themes: hurt/comfort, age gap, forced proximity,
drama, angst, crime<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 36pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Genre: Dark, gritty contemporary romance</span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Warnings:
Violence and strong language. Sexual scenes. Rape (off page). Drug abuse.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB"><a href="https://books2read.com/u/mgPoox"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Buy here</span></a></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>CHAPTER ONE</b></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">As Mason Pearce crawled along the road in
his car squinting at hotel signs on the never-ending residential street, his
phone shrilled. He snatched it up. “Yeah?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Where are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Two minutes away. Still looking.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Christ, I already told you, it’s a blue
sign with birds on. Sparrows or something.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A second voice piped up in the background.
“They’re barn swallows, you ignoramus. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hirundo
rustica</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason laughed. “That your witness?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah, it’s him,” his partner drawled.
“He’s got a big mouth. How about you get over here before I strangle him? And,
oh”—he lowered his voice—“he’s kind of cute. Might be just your type.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason stiffened. “Mickey, don’t push it.”
He hung up, shaking his head. Really, how unprofessional did his partner think
he was?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He slammed on his brakes as he saw the
distinctive swallows on the blue sign. Even <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">he</i>
recognized the steel-blue back and forked tail combined with the red throat.
Mickey really was an ignoramus.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason climbed from the car and retrieved a
bag filled with food, drinks and reading material. Night shifts in narcotics
were not his thing. Especially night shifts spent looking after a junkie about
to turn state’s evidence against a drug lord, when the US Marshals should have
been watching him. It was co-operation all the way this time, manpower shortage
and all that jazz, and Mason had drawn the short straw. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He glanced up at the bed and breakfast as
he locked his car. It was a Victorian-style building with ivy climbing to the
eaves and hanging baskets loaded with blooms. It didn’t look like a safe house
hiding the chief prosecution witness in an ongoing trial—all power to the
person who had thought it up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He already had a key to the front door,
which had been locked on police instructions. Letting himself in, he nodded
politely at an elderly couple just leaving and headed up the stairs to the
third floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mickey took his time answering the door of
room sixty-one. Probably drawing his gun, gesturing to the witness to get out
of sight, checking the spy-hole. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“It’s me,” Mason said, and stuck out his
tongue.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Bolts rasped back. A key turned. The door
swung open and Sergeant Mickey Saldana, six-feet-five of intimidating Italian,
blocked out the meagre light from the room beyond.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Come on,” Mason grumbled, pushing past him.
“Either you want to get home to Maria, or you don’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah, okay, who got out of the wrong side
of bed today?” Mickey cuffed him over the head as Mason glanced around.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It was a small room with twin beds
separated by a nightstand. It featured a pine wardrobe, a dresser—complete with
an electric kettle, two cups and a sugar bowl crammed with tea bags and instant
coffee sachets—and a door leading to an en suite. The thin curtains were drawn.
Sitting on the bed facing the window was a slight, narrow-shouldered man with
short, dark hair.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He stood up and turned, and Mason’s glance
became a stare.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">It wasn’t like the guy was even his type.
Mason liked them big, well-hung, and brainless. He wasn’t interested in
conversation and picked men based on looks alone. He preferred blonds to
brunets and muscle to bone. He liked to dominate—and even better if there was a
fight for domination with a guy bigger than him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The witness was a little on the short
side—barely five-feet-six—and in his late twenties, probably ten years younger
than Mason. Lean and delicate in a clinging T-shirt too small for him and
skinny jeans, he looked as though he needed a good meal, or he’d stolen his
younger brother’s clothes. His short hair—chestnut with copper highlights,
shiny and poker-straight—fell into his eyes in a dense fringe. His eyes were
virtually black and wary, mistrustful. A rosebud mouth was drawn into a sulky
pout.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason swallowed on heart-stopping lust. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why?</i> he asked himself, but failed to
come up with an answer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mickey sidled up behind him and put his
mouth to Mason’s ear. “Told you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason turned to face him, cheeks burning.
“Get gone, smart ass,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">His partner smiled slyly. “Mason, this is
Kayden Cole. Kayden, this is your guardian angel for the evening, Detective
Mason Pearce of Miami-Dade’s finest.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason scowled. He kept his back turned to
the witness. “Go.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mickey winked at him. “Sure. Now be a good
boy and play nicely, Mason.” He laughed as Mason shoved him out the door and slammed
it shut.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason threw the bolts, turned the key and
slotted the safety chain in place. Then, on professional autopilot, he went
into the bathroom to check the access. A single window that no adult could
squash through—not even the witness—which was locked anyway. Back in the bedroom,
the witness was blocking his access.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Excuse me,” Mason said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Kayden shifted, a faint scent of alluring
cologne following in his wake, but it was still a squeeze, their bodies
brushing as Mason squeezed past. He checked behind the curtains. The double window
was locked with no access to it from below without a ladder or being Spiderman.
Mason looked down the street in every direction before he pulled the curtains
across.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Keep away from the window,” he told the
witness sternly. He was rewarded with a glare. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Twilight was falling outside, and he
crossed to the nightstand to flick on a lamp. The light bathed the pale, almost
luminous skin of the witness in a peach glow. He stood there at the end of the
bed regarding Mason—somewhat forlornly, it seemed to him—in silence.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The bed nearest the window must have been
his. It had a sweater and a couple of magazines on the end of it, so Mason
claimed the other, dumping his bag and sitting down, surveying the room as
though he hadn’t already just examined it thoroughly, rather than studying the
pretty face of the witness again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“I hope you’re not as talkative as your
partner. I want a quiet night. I’ve got a fucking headache.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason’s gaze jerked to his. Hadn’t Mickey
said the witness was the one with the big mouth? The thing was, Mason knew his
partner could be motor-mouthed when tedium overcame him. He shot Kayden a cool
look. “You won’t hear a peep out of me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Just great.” Kayden disappeared into the
bathroom. Mason heard the lock click into place.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He relaxed back, shaking his head. The
witness really needed to lock the door? Sure, he was hot in a curious, geeky
kind of way, like some stamp collector who had never been laid, but Mason was
hardly going to burst in during his shower and take him up against the wall
now, was he? The idea spun around a little in his head though, then germinated,
and his cock swelled inside his jeans. Christ, what was the matter with him? He
couldn’t be trapped for twelve hours in this shoebox of a room with a man who
made him hot, for God’s sake. He rooted around in his bag and pulled out a
novel. Something light that wouldn’t make him nod off on the job.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason sat down on an uncomfortable upright
chair against the wall next to the door and opened the book to the first page.
He managed a paragraph before his gaze wandered to the bathroom door as he
heard water running. He imagined the witness naked beneath the spray. He still
couldn’t understand his attraction. Was it just a culmination of sexual
frustration that had him acting this way? Would an overnight stay with any man
have resulted in this kind of longing? Hardly. He’d taken on plenty of witness
protection cases in the past, and none had aroused him quite as suddenly as
this man. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time attraction had grabbed
him like this.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">But he needn’t worry. It wasn’t as if he
would ever risk his job to do anything quite so foolish. A hard-on was a
hard-on and could be taken care of in time. Perhaps he could rub one out in the
bathroom once the witness was asleep. Mason put his book down and stood,
stalking to the window and back.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">His gaze fell to the sweater on Kayden’s
bed. Why the man needed a sweater during spring in Florida was anybody’s guess.
Maybe it was the lack of meat on his bones. Glancing at the bathroom door, he
lifted the clothing and fondled the soft wool a moment. Then, with another
guilty look toward the bathroom, he brought it to his nose, inhaling the smell
of cologne lingering around the neck of the garment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He dropped it in a flash as the shower
stopped, and when silence reigned, he walked around to the nightstand to peruse
the personal items on it. His attention was drawn first to a pair of binoculars
in a canvas case. Mason stared. What the hell? Had Kayden been spying on his neighbors
with these, or had Mickey been using them to scout for potential trouble? His
gaze drifted to a pair of black, narrow-framed glasses, which he guessed would complete
Kayden’s geek look just right. Beside them were a peanut and chocolate bar, a
small jar of night cream, and a tiny tub of lip balm. Mason touched the latter
item with interest. He glanced again toward the bathroom before he scooped up
the tub and looked at the writing on the side. Fudge brownie. A bizarre shiver
of arousal slid down Mason’s spine. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He shook his head and moved away. He rooted
through the bag he’d brought with him to tug free a bottle of flavored water.
As he tilted the bottle to his lips, the bathroom door opened and Kayden exited
in a cloud of steam, wearing nothing but a towel around his lean hips.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason almost choked on his mouthful.
Kayden was too thin, but that didn’t stop Mason from running a connoisseur’s
eye over his pale, nearly hairless torso. He’d never met a fat junkie, of
course, but his keen gaze didn’t find any track marks on the witness’s inner
arms. But then, who had ever said Kayden was a drug user? Mason had just
assumed. He didn’t actually know anything about this man, courtesy of the
secrecy surrounding the US Marshalls’ operation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The witness bristled visibly under his
scrutiny. “See something you like?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason felt his face heat. He curled his
lip. “Definitely not. You look like you’ve just done six months in Auschwitz.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Kayden’s pouty mouth tightened. “That’s
offensive.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason shrugged. “Complain to my boss.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Asshole.” Kayden stalked to the window.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Excuse me?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“You heard me.” Kayden threw the curtains
back and stood there while the fading light spilled over his milky skin. A
sitting target. On the small of his back Mason saw gothic script inscribed in
black ink. He was too far away to read the words.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Get away from the goddamn window,” Mason
ground out through his teeth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">“Fuck you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Anger surged within him so strongly he was
blinded by it. Perhaps he’d rechanneled his lust into the destructive emotion
in order to rein in his desire. But not only was the witness a rude son of a
bitch, he was also standing there against Mason’s orders waiting to get his
fucking head blown off. And hence end Mason’s career.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He strode to the window, wrenched Kayden
back by his shoulder, and shoved him against the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Kayden gasped. He grabbed at the towel
that was slipping from his hips. Mason pinned him there with a hand against his
chest and Kayden squirmed, scrabbling at Mason’s wrist, his face red, and his
dark eyes flashing with anger.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason stared him down, taller by some
inches, using his superior body strength to intimidate the witness. Kayden’s
eyes weren’t simply mundane brown close up. Black rings rimmed his dark irises,
which sparked with gold and green flecks. Those eyes were glossy, moist, their
pupils widening. They were fringed with lush lashes and were like no eyes Mason
had ever seen before.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He became aware of the soft skin under his
palm, and beyond that, the hard beating of Kayden’s heart, like a frightened
rabbit. His grip slackened. He moved his hand from Kayden’s chest to the back
of his neck and captured his panting mouth with his own.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><p><a href="https://books2read.com/u/mgPoox"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">Buy here</span></a></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-9973693073353965812023-04-22T03:21:00.001-07:002023-04-22T03:22:08.157-07:00Works in Progress<p><br /></p><p>Missing in Action (Clear Water Creek Book 4) 6500/35000<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>Lewis and Nick (working title). Prequel to Heal Me 10000/30000</p><p>Matt and James (working title) bonus scene to Heal Me 10000/12000</p><p>Loving the Captain (working title) - in editing </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-69337623980593365112023-04-21T14:23:00.000-07:002023-04-21T14:23:56.854-07:00Protect Me video - too hot for TikTok<p> Once again made by the lovely Nedra, this video for the upcoming Protect Me is absolutely NSFW.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxK-UwcdfcbGbmakC3QvY35UnkPEFTocRHT9kQxroxVgoqWBM6_lEIup_f98Pna2QYF7AzkJgmdL0ZQiEgEUA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8471511754933861243.post-69812823653560754242023-04-02T09:16:00.002-07:002023-04-02T09:16:30.015-07:00Cover reveal - Protect Me - out 1 May<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_j0nxRsGBzh75bOFy2FmABJwpTM9wU5t1a0xXMzVV3mx76Mb7uwQXcAXWkkNiPt34W5QGGiMoaQwdQxXBRdKql2DGJsnhmknXPLnLohPvosEn1Ysw4W9m4sJZmWOpEzMiqar53sKEuyjLbXT3yivVlnc2irElVG6dt19Vn86mlz09O9njOl8WLfhV/s2400/PROTECT%20ME%20(1600x2400).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_j0nxRsGBzh75bOFy2FmABJwpTM9wU5t1a0xXMzVV3mx76Mb7uwQXcAXWkkNiPt34W5QGGiMoaQwdQxXBRdKql2DGJsnhmknXPLnLohPvosEn1Ysw4W9m4sJZmWOpEzMiqar53sKEuyjLbXT3yivVlnc2irElVG6dt19Vn86mlz09O9njOl8WLfhV/w266-h400/PROTECT%20ME%20(1600x2400).jpg" width="266" /></a></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p>Damaged Good Book 2<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He was supposed to be a man from a tough world of
crime and danger. But he’d never fitted that image he was supposed to portray. He’d
always felt lost and out of his depth, like he was forever treading water.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Kayden
Cole – ex-junkie, one-time gangster’s toy and…birdwatcher<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Mason
Pearce – the Miami narcotics detective assigned to protect Kayden while he
turns state’s evidence<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Never had he wanted to
protect and cherish someone the way he did Kayden.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Mason
likes his men big, brawny and brainless. Kayden’s ten years younger, short and
slight. He’s also cerebral, introverted, and haunted by his past. Mason can’t
understand his instant attraction but it’s like being struck by a thunderbolt.
Closeted alone in a hotel room with Kayden for twelve hours every night, Mason
is driven beyond the edge of his control, but he’ll lose his job and compromise
Kayden’s safety if he tangles with him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He was back to the lowest
place he had ever been—alone with nothing and nobody— and if someone wanted to
put him out of his misery, that was just fine</span></b><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Kayden’s
damaged and scarred and in fear of his life. He lost the only man who ever
meant anything to him and he’s suspicious of the cop’s motives. But Mason
burrows beneath his skin, opens Kayden up and even though he’s scared, he wants
to hope that finally, life will give him a break.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Possible Spoilers:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Themes: hurt/comfort, age gap, forced proximity,
drama, angst, crime<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Genre: Dark, gritty contemporary romance</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Warnings:
Violence and strong language. Sexual scenes. Rape (off page). Abuse. Drug abuse.</span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB"><a href="https://books2read.com/u/mgPoox"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Buy here</span></a></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0