Posts Tagged ‘M/M’
Hi everyone! Happy almost Halloween. I’m Tara Lain and I write the Beautiful Boys of Romance. Thanks so much to Selena for inviting me to share in the 13 Days of Halloween.
When I was a kid, Halloween was almost bigger than Christmas as a favorite holiday. I’m an Army brat and we lived all over the world on Army bases and posts. Whether we were in Japan or New Jersey, Austria or Long Beach, all the kids united over Halloween. Army housing is in rows or courts, all identical, and in those days, walkable and safe. We’d take huge bags, sometimes pillowcases, and head out in our costumes. Running from house to house, we’d sometimes be lined up eight and ten deep at the doors. Trick or Treat! We loved the houses where the moms made popcorn balls held together with marshmallow, but you had to eat them quick or their plastic wrap cover would come off and get all the other candy sticky. People who gave whole candy bars became the names repeated on the kid grapevine, and we’d all be sure to show up there. But my personal favorites were Nickel Nips and candy lips. Yes, I’m showing my age. Those can only be found in retro candy stores now along with Beemans and Blackjack gum. We’d run home and pour our booty out on the dining room table, then head back out with more room in the bags while mom and dad sorted through the goodies they wanted for themselves!
Today, we don’t get much Halloween. We live on a very steep hill with no sidewalks and where the doors of houses are far from the road. It’s a great place to live — but a bad place to Trick or Treat. We frequently get no visitors with bags at the ready. But that’s okay. It would be tough to ever live up to my childhood memories.
As it happens, I’ve written a Halloween story. It’s called Trex or Treat and it all takes place on and around one very sexy Halloween. It’s in the Halloween Heat IV Anthology. If you’d like to win it, please do two things.
Leave me a comment with your email address sometime before the end of the 13 Days of Halloween
Like my Facebook Page if you haven’t already. www.facebook.com/taralain
And you’re invited to visit my website at any time. We do a lot of fun contests and drawings. Drop by http://www.taralain.com Thanks so much for coming by. : )
Josh Harris doesn’t have time to be gay. A busy college professor and devoted single-dad, Josh tries to be happy with only his son for company. But then Bradley “Trex” Trexler moves in across the street with his step-brother, Bogo, and sets up his house for Halloween. Josh’s son Ernie can’t wait to go, so Josh dresses up like a movie cowboy and saunters over. But at the end of a long, dark hall he meets another sharpshooter — with a bead on Josh. One trip blindfolded into the dark house of horrors changes his view of the world. And the “adult” party Trex has planned in the bounce room puts an end to Josh’s life-as-usual. Maybe this Halloween Josh can have Trex and treats.
Once they got into the room, the door behind them closed with an ominous thud. Kids’ screams came from somewhere in the back of the house. The kind of screams that meant that something awful just happened and it was great. The crystal ball flickered. “Ennnter my housssse of horrrroorrrr.”
Yikes. Something horribly tickly swept the back of Josh’s neck.
A curtain pulled back to reveal a long dimly lit hall. Josh nudged Ernie. “I think we’re supposed to go that way.”
Ernie got the big eyes again. “You wanna?”
“I think we better.”
The walked past the crystal ball that was now smoky and stepped into a hall. Lights came on in front of a mirror. Josh started and Ernie gasped. They both laughed at their own reflections — a lean cowboy and a little super hero. Suddenly a small Darth Vader stepped into the hall. Ernie giggled as the little Darth walked slowly toward him. Ernie stepped out and approached Darth at an equally portentous pace.
Finally, they were nose to nose. Darth reached out and flipped up his visor. “Hey, Ernie. Come on, let me show you the cool decorations in my room.”
Ernie looked back at Josh. “Can I, Dad?”
“Sure. Stay out of trouble.”
The two boys ran out of the hall. Josh looked around. Where should he go now? Back outside?
A voice came from the other end of the hall. “I’m not sure there’s room for two gunslingers in this town.”
Josh looked up. Doc Holliday, aka, Trex, stood at the other end of the hall. Black hat, dark three-piece suit, a gun at his side, and a delicate handkerchief tinged with blood — the clue to the character since Holiday had died of TB. The western garb looked perfect on that tall athletic body. The real Holiday never looked so good. Josh wanted to drool.
Josh smiled, but Trex didn’t break character. His gaze, steady and dangerous, rested on Josh’s face. Okay two can play. Josh scowled like a man who gazed into the sun all day and chewed the stump of cigar in his mouth. He rested a hand on his toy six-shooter. “You want to try me?” The words were out. Crap, what did he just say?
Trex/Holiday sauntered toward him, spurs jingling. He came face to face with Josh and cracked a hint of a smile. “Show me what you got.”
“Uh, oh I…”
Trex reached up and took the unlit stogy. Then he slipped a hand around Josh’s neck and pressed a hot mouth over Josh’s lips with a hint of warm tongue. Holy crap. Their hats bumped and Josh’s fell backwards. He grabbed for it, their teeth knocked together, their noses squashed and Trex pulled back laughing. “I guess we know that cowboys didn’t spontaneously seduce each other. Too much shit to get in the way.”
Josh knew his eyes were wide and he was having trouble keeping his breath even. “Doing a little cowboy experimentation, are we?” He reached down and grabbed his hat from the floor and put it back on.
Trex waved a hand down Josh’s body. “Hey, you come in looking that great, you gotta expect some admiration.”
“Dad! Dad!” A small human missile flew into the hall. Thank God Ernie hadn’t arrived a moment sooner. The boy stopped. “You gotta come see me bob for apples and shit.”
“Okay, be right there.” Ernie ran back toward who knows where. Josh looked at Trex. “I think I’ve been summoned. Where are they bobbing and shit?”
Trex laughed. The low chuckle tingled in Josh’s cock. The guy was too sexy. “Follow me.” He put a guiding hand on Josh’s shoulder which was enough distraction to make Josh stumble. The heat of Trex’s lips lingered despite the awkwardness of the kiss.
Josh nodded toward Trex’s costume as they walked. “What made you decide on Holiday?”
“I didn’t think you’d miss my subtle clue.” Trex flashed the handkerchief. “Doc may have loved Big Nosed Kate, but I’ve always found his devotion to Wyatt to have gone a bit beyond the call of duty. And you decided the Man with No Name was gay?”
“Maybe he had so little to say to all those outlaws because he really wanted to discuss china patterns.”
Author blog: http://www.taralain.com/blog
Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 23. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog in Laguna Beach, California, a pretty seaside town where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!
13 Days of Halloween
Holiday Spotlight: Loose-Id
Demon Hunter 3: A Very Demon Halloween
by Evanne Lorraine
Duec, head of the demon hunters and La Ceinture Noire’s owner, is master of all he surveys, except fate. Death shadows him, drawing closer each day. A different foreboding whispers of danger to Belinda, the damaged halfling he’s sworn to protect. He’s waited a lifetime for her. She’s the other half of his soul, a true submissive too wounded to accept him as her master. He must make her safe from his enemies without him.
Unable to tolerate another’s dominance, Belinda, contract witch to the demon hunters, plays at Duec’s club as an icy Domme. She earned her nickname, Control Queen by giving other submissives the discipline they need to find release without ever seeking personal satisfaction. No matter how skillfully she manages her subs, the only male she longs for never sees the strong mistress she’s grown into, only the frightened, damaged child he rescued.
Then his enemies strike, capturing Belinda–changing everything. A failing Duec must battle ancient evil to save his mate and Belinda must find Duec before it’s too late.
Note:This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: BDSM elements, violence.
Belinda gave an exaggerated shudder and turned to Holly. “You’re so much braver than I would ever be. I can’t even imagine getting naked in front of this crowd.”
Or anywhere else, for that matter. No one needs to see the scars under my leather.
“There’s no courage required. I just stand there and follow Colin’s orders.” Holly’s thick blonde lashes dropped, and her fair skin pinked becomingly. “Nude is fine, because my obedience pleases Colin, but I’d love to wear a pair of boots like yours.”
“No way.” Colin shook his head. “Not in public. You’d cause a riot in those shoes. I have to think about crowd control.”
Holly smiled at the implied compliment. “Yes, Sir.”
“It’s almost showtime.” Colin’s voice deepened.
“I’ll try to catch part of your demonstration. Better move along before your fans get restless.” Belinda made a shooing motion at the couple.
Holly sketched a wave over her shoulder as Colin propelled her toward the glass-enclosed, center scene room. It was hard not to be envious of their mutual devotion. Belinda shook off the mood-dampening petty jealousy on her way to the bar. Colin and Holly were perfect together. She couldn’t imagine either of them with anyone else. She found a vacant seat, tucked her toy bag under it, and then perched her butt on top of the padded stool.
Ramon, another demon hunter and super-popular Dom, worked the bar. He made his way over to where she waited. There were seven demon hunters, not counting Duec. Each one different, but they were all hot and hunky. She fully enjoyed the view while he prowled toward her.
“What can I get for you, beautiful?”
“A little respect and a diet cola, easy on the ice,” she said with enough bite to remind him she wasn’t one of his human groupies.
“Gotcha covered, Ma’am.” He winked at her with no sign of repentance.
Copyright © Evanne Lorraine
Heaven Sent: Sly Spectral Trick
By Jet Mykles
Chris is warding the house against ghosts? Huh? Darien’s pretty sure Chris is pulling his leg, but his dignified lawyer lover seems awfully serious when he tells Darien that there’s a history of ghosts in his family and he needs to ward the house before Samhain officially starts. His grandmother even calls to make sure he’s doing it.
They’re kidding, right?
When he finds out the truth, it’s better, and sexier, than he could’ve imagined.
Note:This book contains elements that may be objectionable to some readers: m/m sex practices.
Chris faced him for a moment. He opened his mouth, then shut it. Light glinted on the light frames of his square glasses. Then he laughed, but it was forced. And brief. “All right, magpie. You got me.” He turned back to continue painting.
Darien’s laughter died. “Chris, quit it.”
“Everything will be fine if you let me finish.”
He pushed from the doorframe, fisting his hands at his sides. “Quit it. I’m not falling for it.”
“You mentioned that.”
“All right. Tell me why you’re warding against ghosts.”
Chris used a knuckle to push his glasses up higher on his nose before he resumed drawing patterns. “My family is descended from druids. As such, we’re rather attractive to ghosts.”
Darien fell back a step, eyes wide on his lover. “What?”
Chris shrugged, never taking his eyes off the window. He paused, fingers in the air, painting patterns.
He held up one long finger toward Darien, then resumed his air painting, muttering to himself as he stared intently at the pane of glass before him.
Darien was starting to get a bad feeling about this.
When Chris stopped muttering, he turned to force a smile at Darien. “Don’t worry about it, magpie. Nothing will happen if I can finish this.” He came back to stand before Darien. He used a knuckle to tilt Darien’s face up, bestowing a light, lingering kiss on Darien’s lips. “Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll finish, then we can carve pumpkins and you can make me watch that deplorable slasher movie you wanted to watch.”
Copyright © Jet Mykles
Match Game: Ghost Style
By Cynnara Tregarth
Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead is here. For Ben Cameron, this holiday is painful without his best friend, Manuel “Manny” Cervantes.
For Shari Livingston, this is a day to remember just how much Manny has done for all of their friends. She never expects Manny to appear at the Dumb Supper she and the others have put together or to demand that she and Ben admit their true feelings for one another.
However, Manny the ghost isn’t about to let them get away with just sleeping together to make him happy. He knows more about them than they want to admit even to themselves. Can this matchmaking ghost get Ben and Shari together or will he be forced to play the ultimate match game to show the love between them both?
Note:This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable. This story was previously released in Spirited.
Closing her eyes briefly, Shari listened to his heart, allowing herself to see if he was lying to her. His pulse was steady, there were no other telltale signs of lying, and she wanted to believe him. She had wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Why not give into one night of passion? Tonight could celebrate the joy of life after losing someone like Manny, who brought love and life into each person he touched. Opening her eyes, she nodded briefly. “Fine. One night, my home, my rules. Our friendship remains even if this romantic interlude doesn’t work and even if it does.”
“One night, your home, our rules. I won’t let you have the upper hand in this.” This time his smile reached his eyes. “I know how you can be; you forget how many times you’ve told me about the latest sex escapade, not realizing how hot it made me to claim you myself.” Tugging her close, Ben slid one hand into her loosened hair, then pulled, guiding her lips toward his. “Tonight won’t be like anything you’ve ever had before, Shari. That, I promise.”
His lips were warm and demanding while his tongue swept along her lips, trying to slide between them. With a soft moan, she opened to him as she slid her hands up his chest to his strong shoulders. His taste was not just maleness at its finest, but a combination of the wine he had drunk, the chocolate cake, and something spicy that defied recognition to her sensitive taste buds. Her tongue slid against his, teasing him with bold and then soft strokes as she pressed her body against him. Too long she had denied herself even thinking of the only kiss they had shared so long ago. This kiss seared the old one away, leaving behind quaking need as his tongue caressed the roof of her mouth before slowly withdrawing to outline her lips.
“Gods above, Shari,” he hoarsely whispered against her lips as their foreheads touched. “I need you tonight. Say yes.”
Deep blue eyes filled with desire, respect, and something else captured her gaze. There was no other answer to give. To deny this one night would be denying the dreams she’d had for months now. “Yes.”
Copyright © Cynnara Tregarth
Hero Sandwich: Voodoo
By Angela Knight
Ever since his brother, Cougar, married Paparazzi, bad girl gone good, the crimefighting duo of Cougar and Lynx had become a trio: Cougar and Paparazzi, plus Lynx. Before he put the ring on his lady’s finger, his brother might’ve joined them to join in a hot little threesome, but marriage had made him possessive.
It’s not that he begrudges the newlyweds their quality time, but Lynx could use a little quality of his own. He’s in desperate need of a little action to take the edge off his gnawing frustration. He figures he’ll spend Halloween in Manhattan beating the crap out of super villains.
A rooftop encounter with a sexy psi-siren with her mind on seduction changes everything. Maybe he doesn’t need a fight.
He just needs a little (or a lot) of Voodoo.
Note:This book contains elements that may be objectionable to some readers: bdsm.
Breathing hard, Lynx paused and scanned the darkness. This was Voodoo’s unofficial patrol zone, so with any luck, he should run into her again tonight.
He’d known a lot of superheroines over the years, but she was something special. No dilettante adrenaline junkie or spandex-clad wannabe, she was determined and serious, even after the attack that had come so close to killing her. Like him, she really believed in the necessity of what they did.
He’d been strongly tempted to beat Reaper to death for hurting her.
Lynx gave the skyline another questing scan, looking for the flap of a familiar cape. Nothing…
A female mouth suddenly closed around his cock, wet and hungry. He gasped and almost tumbled off his perch. Catching himself against a metal pipe, he threw a look downward. Despite his rioting senses, his groin armor was still firmly in place.
A clever tongue swirled and danced around his thickening shaft as ghostly fingers gently squeezed his balls. He grabbed for his dick, wondering if some invisible superwoman…
Copyright © Angela Knight
Alpha: Hunted Down
By Treva Harte
Dunne has always wanted his Alpha more than Hunt, the head of his pack, wanted him. Dunne could live with that. But he can’t live with Hunt’s latest fetish…at least not until Hunt convinces him otherwise. And when he does, it’s a real Halloween treat.
Note:This book contains elements that may be objectionable to some readers: m/m sex practices.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you? All right, then.” Hunt sighed and stood up. “Pull your pants down, boy. I see it’s time for a lesson.”
Dunne’s hands moved before he thought. It had been days since they’d been together. For a moment he remembered he was going hold out on principle and not make it easy on Hunt — to hell with principles, especially ones that only he seemed to have. By now he’d take anything Hunt was willing to give.
Dunne turned, trying not to fumble with his belt as he obeyed. He could hear Hunt unzipping his own pants, but Dunne knew better than to look around. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Hunt’s cock, full and erect, ready to plow into his more-than-willing asshole. Not at all. That erect cock was a sight to worship while on bended knees.
But when Hunt said it was lesson time, Dunne knew to keep his eyes and his pants down until Hunt told him differently. Hunt was Alpha. Hunt was boss. Just the idea made Dunne’s cock twitch.
Copyright © Treva Harte
Need more Halloween Treats? Check out the Halloween Section of Loose-Id’s site.
Contest: Like the Loose-Id FB Page, Tell Loose Id: Happy Halloween, Loowis! And come back here, and leave a comment with the updated number of Likes the page has. If you have already Liked the page then go to the Halloween Section of Loose-Id and tell us what Halloween book tickles your fancy.
The winner will get the entire Trick of Treat Collection!
Character interview questions—Beck Stryker, High Concept
What is your name and occupation? Beck Stryker. I’m mid-thirties, and I work as a homicide detective for the Denver Police Department.
Do you like your job? Why or why not? I like it, but I miss the cop I used to work with: Danny Halliday. He died in the shootout where I got this (Points to left shoulder). I don’t want to get shot again.
Who is the person you dislike the most? Right now, I’m not big on Warren Sands. He’s the director of the Minneapolis division of the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit. Sands keeps roping my… (clears throat) boyfriend, Zach, roped in to further investigations.
Is there anyone special in your life? Zach Littman. We worked together on a recent case, and we’re…working on a together kind of thing. Still pretty much on the lowdown. I haven’t come out at work. Yet.
What’s your favorite meal, and do you fix it yourself or have someone fix it for you? Steak and baked potato. No one makes a meaner steak than Zach. I’m not much of a chef, and he enjoys cooking.
Football or baseball? Football. The Denver Broncos.
Favorite holiday? Christmas could be it, depending on how things go this year (grins).
Damn rainy weather.
Beck’s left shoulder ached, and he rearranged his holster. If this kept up, he’d need pain meds to sleep tonight. Meanwhile, time to take a break and sneak some ibuprofen. Even if it was a nonsteroidal, couldn’t have the boss thinking he wasn’t 100 percent and ready for the field.
He made for the men’s room. In a stall, he dry-swallowed three of the blue gelcaps, then peed and washed his hands. On the way back to his desk, he stopped at the drinking fountain and gulped water, making sure the pills would dissolve. Twenty minutes, and relief should kick in.
Beck reached his desk and lowered himself into the chair. A pile of reports sat waiting for his attention. Ridiculous. He was a homicide detective, not a secretary. This was a waste of his skills. Field cases waited, infinitely more interesting and requiring a detective’s intuition.
Across the room, Van met his gaze and looked away. Beck spun his chair toward the windows behind him. Sheets of water rippled down the windows, blurring the building across the street.
After the shooting, Beck’s ex-lover had made it clear as still water that there was nothing left between them. At least Van had understood the pressures of the job, the danger, both on the street and in the department. Homicide was a macho division, and the other detectives were unlikely to accept an alternate orientation. He and Van had agreed to keep their relationship under wraps. Had they had a relationship or just been fuck buddies?
Nights in a soft bed, Van’s hot tongue everywhere until Beck squirmed with need. A firm grip on his cock, stroking.
“What would you like tonight?”
Heat rushed to his groin. Mind-blowing sex—no doubt about that—but was that all they’d had?
They’d never eaten at a restaurant unless it was out of town. They’d never taken a vacation together. Van liked sun and sand and room service; Beck preferred snow and skiing and grilled steaks at the lodge. And they never stayed over at each other’s places.
Sure didn’t sound like a relationship. Hell, when he’d been lying in the hospital with his shattered shoulder pinned together, wondering if his hand would ever work again, he’d turned to Van expecting emotional support, and his lover had gunned down the only thing Beck had left.
Van had left nothing at Beck’s apartment except travel brochures.
The first time Beck had risked his heart, and he’d gotten blown away for his trouble. Staying secreted in the closet precluded Van paying attention to a disabled boyfriend. “It would look strange if I spent extra time with you,” Van had said, and he’d been careful not to visit more often than any of the others. At that point, Beck had wished his injuries had been more severe, that the bullet had hit a few inches to the right and down, preempting Van’s assault on Beck’s heart. Death had sounded better than total bereavement.
Anger had overtaken depression in short order. The first thing he’d done after arriving home was deep-six the tropical-vacation brochures littering the kitchen counter.
In the ensuing weeks, Beck had fought through the pain of physical therapy and the loss of the relationship.
As Beck’s psychologist, Jay had helped him work through most of that. And the painful inquiry about the shootings.
“Hey.” Soft brown eyes gazed down at him, wary, not welcoming. The familiar scent of Van’s bay rum aftershave reached Beck, and his stomach clenched.
“Well. What can I do for you, Detective Gates?”
Van plopped a folder on his desk. “Got a computer request that needs your expertise.”
“Don’t think I can help you.” Beck picked up a pen, tapped it on the folder. “I’m not a computer expert.”
Van’s full mouth thinned, lips pressed together. “It’s a search for vehicle license plates. Need it for the murder book.”
Helpless to resist, Beck’s gaze wandered down Van’s chambray-clad torso. The memory of burying his face in Van’s groin set off a twitch in his own.
“Hey, dickhead. I need the information.”
Head in the game, Stryker. “What’s the case?”
For a moment, Van said nothing, as if he hadn’t heard. Then, “It’s a home invasion.”
It was Beck’s turn to stare. Another one? “When did that happen?”
“A week ago.”
“What’ve you got so far?”
“You’re not on active duty in the field, Stryker. And you’re not part of my investigation.”
Beck barked a laugh. “Same supportive bastard, aren’t you?”
A faint pink materialized high on Van’s cheeks. He opened his mouth, closed it.
Beck waited, twirling the pen.
“Just get the information.” Van turned on his heel. In spite of himself, Beck took a surreptitious look at Van’s ass as he marched back to his desk. Too bad there wasn’t more to him than a hot body.
Across the room, Van’s partner, Katie Coleman, gave him a huge smile. If she were a guy, maybe she’d pique Van’s interest. As it was, she’d be wasting her time. Bats for my team, Coleman. Beck swung his gaze toward the folder.
Whether Van acknowledged it or not, Beck was part of the investigation now.
Copyright © Whitley Gray
I finished this book Sunday night and LOVED it.
Your Biggest Fan is a beautiful story about Love, Acceptance of yourself and recognizing that you sometimes need to look up and see that life is better than you thought it was.
This may be an M/M story but I really did relate to the absolutely adorable Truman “Tru”. Up until a few years ago I had the hardest time accepting my depression or the fact that I had indeed made friends and that life was better than I thought it was. It took a lot of knocks before I finally got the message. I may still be skittish when it comes to certain things and open up but I know now that I have friends who love me and speak “Selena” even when I make no sense whatsoever.
The themes of this book transcends simply a GLBTQ story and is truly a human story that can help anyone who needs someone to relate to about accepting one’s self and accepting the gift of love.
A truly wonderful read that you will leave you wanting more of this new series from the talented Ms. Welsh.
Buy Links for Your Biggest Fan:
And she will write more of this series, right Missy?
Don’t make me break out the Kitten of Guilt.
I’m so happy to be here at my friend Selena’s today celebrating the release of Beach Balls, my new MM contemporary novella that comes out today from Etopia Press. It’s appropriate that I should be here because Selena is the cause of it all!
In February 2011, Selena sent me an email and asked if I would like to contribute a novella to an anthology coming up from Etopia called Beach Bums. To get me interested, she sent me some inspiration — an Aussie Bums commercial with hot Australian guys running on the beach in skimpy swim trunks! After I pulled my tongue back in my mouth, I hunted for the keys to type “Yes! I’ll do anything! Just keep sending me inspiration.” Then she sprang the news. I had 30 days to write the book. Yikes. But I was honored by her faith in me. I had only published one book at the time and had the second under contract so she was taking a chance on a new writer.
I worked diligently for my 30 days and produced the novella called Volley Balls. Of course, two of my heroes are from Australia staying true to Se’s inspiration. The book was well received and I was a happy camper. But there was a minor character in Volley Balls named Rodney who was crying out for a book of his own. So at the end of 2011, I started writing another book in the series called Fire Balls. This book which came out in February of 2012 really struck a chord in people. The combination of the hunky, conservative firefighter and the flamboyant, feisty artist became the number one bestselling gay romance on Amazon and ARe.
At that point, Etopia suggested that if I wrote a third book it could become a series of its own. The Balls to the Wall Series was born and I had the story I was anxious to tell. I wanted an enemies-to-lovers tale about a developer and an environmentalist who meet underwater where they can’t see that they are natural enemies. This is the premise of Beach Balls.
Today I am writing my 12th book and thinking up yet another story for the Balls to the Wall Series. None of it would have happened without Selena. Se inspires me every day. And I can’t say thank you enough.
Before you go, would you like a chance to win a $10 gift card? Just leave a comment here WITH YOUR EMAIL. The drawing for the winner will be held on June 9th. And if you’d like a chance to win a Volley Balls or Fire Balls T-shirt or a Fire Balls carry bag, be one of three people to follow the most blogs and events on the blog tour. The tour is only one week so it’s easy to visit all the blogs. Everyone who follows any events will be eligible to win. If you are one of the top three, you get a book. Or if there are more than three who attend everything, we’ll have a drawing. All the events are listed at Beautiful Boys Books along with extra chances to win prizes. Come on over.
Excerpt R: Beach Balls by Tara Lain; MM Contemporary
Adam James is so far in the closet he could find Narnia. But coming out would threaten all he’s built as the lead attorney for WMA Development, and the million dollars he can get when he finishes pushing a big land remediation project through the City Council. Then on an early morning scuba dive, Adam meets a tall, lean rebreather diver named Sky who makes him want to live a different life. But Adam’s dreams are shattered when he walks into the council meeting and finds the fire-breathing environmentalist who’s screwing up his chances of winning is none other than that same beautiful man. Sky Sea Mickeljohn doesn’t compromise, so how could he find himself lusting after a damned developer? And what happens when somebody open’s Adam’s closet door? These two better start telling the truth if they’re ever going to find world peace.
Sky sank down on the sand beside the biggest rock. He scooted to the far side, which would make him invisible to anyone down the beach by the restaurant. He patted the sand beside him.
Adam sat, and Sky put an arm around him, pulling him close. Man, this was new territory. Adam took a deep breath.
“Is this uncomfortable for you?”
“No, just different.”
“Because you don’t go with guys in public?”
“Yeah. And when I am with them I usually top, so I take the lead.”
“Oh, sorry.” Sky started to withdraw.
Adam grabbed his hand. “No I wasn’t complaining. Just explaining.”
Sky tightened his arm. “You like this?”
“Yeah. I do.” Adam wasn’t lying. The man was angel-faced and almost girlie with his halo of curls, but he sure knew how to be a man.
The roar of the ocean and yammering of the seagulls almost overpowered the sound of his heart in his ears. This was so d nice. Adam pressed closer and fit his head into the hollow below Sky’s collarbone. It was odd feeling…almost cared for.. That wasn’t a feeling he ever got. No one took care of Adam but Adam. Still, Sky felt good—warm and even a little safe, which was bizarre since he was threatening Adam’s carefully manufactured identity.
Sky palmed Adam’s cheek then coaxed his face up. Adam looked into the blue eyes as Sky’s lips gently touched his. He nuzzled, then nipped, followed by a broad tongue lick full on the mouth. Adam laughed but he had to admit it sounded a lot like a giggle. He buried a hand in Sky’s curls and pulled his head tight, tasting minty toothpaste and pure goodness.
Adam twisted so they faced each other and wrapped his other arm tightly around Sky’s waist, pulling him close. Sky’s tongue was deep and marauding, hot and wet. Adam’s cock sprang to attention like a marine on parade. Years seem to have passed since they’d last fucked. Sky was a heady drug, and Adam was rapidly becoming an addict.
Sky’s tongue pressed deep inside. Somebody moaned, Adam wasn’t sure who, but he wanted more. He rose up on his knees and threw one leg across Sky’s lap, settled his butt, and leaned forward so their cocks pressed hard. Sweet Jesus, that felt good. He rode against Sky’s cock, and every thrust sent fire shooting through his balls.
Sky threw his head back. “Holy crap.”
What was he doing? Adam looked over his shoulder. No one was coming. Still, he should stop. But he couldn’t make his hips quit grinding against Sky’s cock.
Sky’s arms came around him. “You didn’t tell me you got rich doing lap dances, buddy.” His breath came so hard he could barely talk, and his hips pushed up rhythmically.. “Hell, I’d pay a million bucks for you.”
Author blog: http://taralain.blogspot.com
Book blog: http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com
Savvy Authors: http://www.savvyauthors.com/vb/member.php?2398-Tara-Lain
Tara Lain never met a beautiful boy she didn’t love – at least on paper. A writer of erotic romance, mostly ménage and male/male, Tara loves all her characters, but especially her handsome heroes. A lifelong writer of serious non-fiction, Tara only fell in love with EROM in 2009 and, through perseverance and lots of workshops, had the first novel she ever wrote published in January of 2011. Then she capped off the year by being voted Best Author of 2011 in the LRC Awards and had her Genetic Attraction Series named runner-up for Best Series of 2011! A very good year. After an exotic life of travel all over the world and work in television, education and advertising, Tara settled in Southern California with her soul-mate husband and opened her own small marketing business. She paints, collages, and started practicing yoga “way before it was fashionable”. Passionate about diversity, justice, inclusion and new ideas, she says on her tombstone it will read, “Yes”.
Over the last six months, I’ve had the pleasure of becoming friends with Selena Illyria. As you, her readers, know, she is a delightful wild woman full of music, mischief and great recipes. Se has been a blessing in my life and huge help to me as a writer. In fact, the book that I am announcing today from Etopia Press called Volley Balls is all her doing! Last February, Se Skyped me and asked if I’d like to write a book in 30 days (did I say she was a friend?!) The book was to be a part of an anthology with Selena and a number of other terrific writers. Now, I’m a relatively new fiction author (my first book, Genetic Attraction just came out in January of 2011 and the second, The Scientist and the Supermodel, released on May 31) so being invited to participate in an anthology was an honor. Plus, that wicked Selena sent me this video ad for Aussie Bums swim trunks as an inspiration and I melted on the spot. But 30 days? I had written a book in a month as part of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) so I knew I could do it and this was a short book. Less than 30 days later I turned in the completed manuscript all shiny to Etopia, they accepted it for contract and here it is releasing today.
Funny how stuff works. This little book has become a huge favorite of mine. First, I adore my hero, David Underwood. You still don’t see a lot of flamboyantly gay characters in books, but David is one of them. He may be a bit effeminate, but he’s a tiger fighting for what he believes in. And my other boys are the hunkiest of Aussie volleyball players (thanks to Se’s inspiration!) so you alpha lovers have nothing to worry about. The book has some serious themes, but it’s still a summer romance set in one of my favorite towns in the world – Laguna Beach, CA. So here it is. A nibble of Volley Balls. The book that asks the question “can a gay boy from Laguna find happiness with an alpha male … or two?”
And you can WIN this book if you’d like to participate in the Hot Sizzling Summer blog tour contest. Here are the rules:
Comment on this blog and leave your email address. I will copy it and enter it in the drawing for the copy of Volley Balls being given away next Saturday. You’ll be notified by email if you win. Comment and email, simple.
Here’s MORE CHANCES TO WIN! (more complicated so read closely LOL)
• Go to my Book blog http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com. Leave a comment and follow the blog (if you already do follow, it counts). You will be entered in EVERY drawing until the end of the month. One book will be given away every week and you’ll be entered in all those drawings.
• Go to each blog on my blog tour and leave a comment on the day of the post (or at least in the same week) and you will be entered again for each additional comment during the week in which the post is made.
• The entire blog tour is listed on my website http://www.taralain.com/blog_tour_schedule.html and updates will be posted regularly so check it out. There will also be Yahoo Group chats where I will be giving away other books so watch for those!
• All the weeks activities are listed at Blog tour Central http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com
Whew!! Remember, you can take each one of these steps and have a bunch of chances to WIN! (You just have to enter, the logistics are my nightmare! LOL) Got it? Start by Commenting HERE!
Excerpt ADULT: Volley Balls by Tara Lain M/M/M Menage Contemporary
AVAILABLE NOW from Etopia Press http://www.etopia-press.net/
David Underwood needs to go to AA – Alpha-lovers Anonymous, but his ogling of two Australian volleyball players on Laguna Beach gets him harassed and terrified he might be in for a repeat of his previous abusive relationship. Australian, Gareth Marshall needs to come out. A lifetime of hiding his orientation from his best friend and volleyball partner, Edge, as well as everyone else around him, has left him hurt and frustrated. When Gareth gets a load of David posing nude as the Micheangelo statue in the famous Laguna Pageant, he knows his hiding days are numbered. But Edge has his own secrets, and may just take them out on the two lovers. And David’s ex-lover has some nasty plans of his own. With everything stacked against them, can a flaming gay Laguna boy find happiness with an alpha male – or two?
Gareth picked a book from a back shelf and flipped through it. “Wow. Japanese porn.”
David glanced and laughed. “Actually, it’s Japanese shunga prints. It was a medieval art form. The Japanese don’t think of erotica like we do, so it’s not really pornographic.”
“But these blokes are hung.”
“Yes. It’s characteristic of the form. No one knows why exactly.”
“Bloody hell, these are hot. Wish they had some of two guys together.”
“They do, actually. It’s hard to tell in some cases because the men are often adolescent boys who dress more like women. In Japan, people were seldom considered homosexual. Only acts were described as such.”
“Yeah. I found one. Oh, shit, this is so hot.” David felt a strong arm wrap around his waist. Gareth pulled David back against a rock-hard cock covered by denim. He leaned hard against David and stuck the book in front of David’s face. “Look at that, love.”
Oh yeah, David hardly had to be reminded. He’d used that very book to jerk off a few times in the bathroom, being very careful not to get cum on the pages. “Yeah, I know. I love that book.”
“Oh, have you been a very bad boy with this book?”
Gareth breathed hot in his ear. “And where would that have been?”
“In the back bathroom.”
“Oh, you naughty, naughty boy. I think I may spank you tonight for being so very bad.”
David moaned, while trying to keep his eyes on the front door and the few people passing by.
“But I don’t think I can wait ‘til tonight, you naughty boy.” Gareth set the book on the counter in front of David. “Just keep looking at this, love.”
The etching showed two young men, opulently dressed in kimonos, ministering to an older man’s enormous phallus with their tongues. Crap, it was so sexy. Gareth licked the shell of David’s ear. “I want you to know that I have been tested regularly and have a clean bill of health.”
David was gasping now as the thick ridge of cock pushed between his ass checks, still covered in skin-tight stretch denim. “Me, too. I’m clean.”
“Oh good, love, because I want to swallow.”
And before David could think, much less protest, Gareth was on his knees in front of him, back to the counter and pulling down David’s zipper. David kept staring toward the door with what he knew was a stupid grin on his face, as those rough fingers pulled his stiff cock out.
Then warm, wet heat surrounded him. “Oh shit, Gareth.” He forced himself to whisper when he wanted to shout.
He stared at the beautiful etching, then turned the page and saw the huge phallus of one man penetrating the asshole of another, younger man. Oh God, oh God.
He looked up at the open front door of the shop to see one of his friends from the Laguna Art Museum waving as she walked by. Oh, don’t come in. He waved, hoping she couldn’t see his hand shaking.
She stuck her head in the door as Gareth’s mouth moved into serious vacuum mode while his big hand stroked David’s balls. She smiled. “How’s business, kiddo?”
“Uh, swell, uh, fine.” He pointed to the computer a little frantically. “Just doing some inventory.”
Tara Lain never met a beautiful boy she didn’t love – at least on paper. A writer of erotic romance, mostly ménage and male/male, Tara loves all her characters, but especially her handsome heroes. A lifelong writer of serious non-fiction, Tara only fell in love with EROM in 2009 and, through perseverance and lots of workshops, had the first novel she ever wrote accepted for publication in 2010. She’s now on book six. After an exotic life of travel all over the world and work in television, education and advertising, Tara settled in Southern California with her soul-mate husband and opened her own small marketing business. She paints, collages, and started practicing yoga “way before it was fashionable”. Passionate about diversity, justice, inclusion and new ideas she says on her tombstone it will read, “Yes”.
Author blog: http://taralain.blogspot.com
Book blog: http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com
Savvy Authors: http://www.savvyauthors.com/vb/member.php?2398-Tara-Lain
What makes a hero tick?
Well, that’s a bit of a loaded question. Because for as many types of men (and women) out there, there are just as many heroes. The silent, do-it-all-or-die type. The in-your-face type. Even the ones who are nothing but heart.
My heroes tend to be a mixing bag of all of those traits and whatever else happens to work for that story and for them. Each character is unique unto themselves and I love that about them. Even when they add to my gray hair.
Examination room one: Xavier’s Way
Our hero: Xavier De Los Santos
A hard working, self-motivated type of man, from a family of strong men (all brothers. You kinda feel sorry for their mother, I know I do!). What happens though when life throws him a slow and sexy curve ball in the form of one Jordan Belton? He shakes in his work boots is what happens! And the incredible thing about how he handles that curve ball is by admitting he’s scared. Admitting he may be wrong. No matter what direction he tries to take, but takes it anyway.
So he’s one type. Flexible. Accepting, able to stand up to a challenge. But sensitive to the fact that once the cat is out of the bag-Jordan’s personal attraction-he doesn’t give fate the finger. He stands up to it and challenges himself to embrace it.
Terrifying, isn’t it? You’ll have to read his story to see just how he handles it.
Xavier’s Way Book Info:
This woman has had life kick her while she’s down and even when life doesn’t let her catch her breath, she..doesn’t..stop…living. I will have to admit, this chick was hard to write. Stubbornest damn ass of a person…but that’s a side rant. In truth, just staying alive and on her own two feet is her biggest challenge because she’s dying. She knows it. She’s accepted it, now if the rest of the damn world would just let her be until she can’t fight back any longer, she’d be content. Yeah, life doesn’t happen that way.
She’s the type of woman that personifies inner strength, because even when life is kicking her ass, she kicks back. Hard. She doesn’t stop when her mind and heart are set on something. She will fight tooth and nail for what she believes in. The lioness. A fighter.
Her type is very in your face with her strength, but feminine. A spine of steel with a conscientious heart.
Wolf Brother’s Legacy: Resurrection Book Info:
Publisher Link: http://purplesword.com/zencart/
(Releasing this summer)
Examination room three: Beneath the Shield
Our hero: Jack Torres
Now here is a yummy example of alpha male that has been wounded so badly, he’s drifting, mostly hiding, living, but on the very edges. He’s the type to let you run into his fist, not hit you. His heart is in desperate need of CPR, and a certain doctor has just what he needs.
Jack learns to let go, that living is now. He is a deep strength, because only that in human nature allows us to forgive ourselves. Being a police officer shows he’s not immune to the world around him, and he shows that, but woe be to the one who dares to reach him.
So that’s three strong, very similar characters, but in each story they are as individual and unique as the world between page one and ‘The End’.
How do I see heroes? I see them in all shapes and sizes, everywhere, from the young man who helped me one afternoon to aid the driver of a car that had flipped–yes, flipped–barely thirty feet in front of me on a busy highway, to the kindness of making someone’s day by taking donuts to work–when you don’t work there. They are all around us, in the small and big things they do. There is no age limitations, no city-to-cowboy delineation, not even male versus female. We all are heroes, and I want my readers to recognize that facet of themselves in the characters I write.
Beneath the Shield Book Info:
Publisher Link: http://www.mlrbooks.com/books.php
Diana Castilleja/Diana DeRicci Bio:
With more than half a dozen ebooks currently to her credit and her first print book released in 2008, Diana Castilleja has kept busy since she started writing professionally in late 2004. Diana currently resides in central Texas with her husband and son. When not focusing her energy on her family and her writing, she loves to travel and haunt bookstores. She’s lived in several states across the south and midwest, as well as traveling to Mexico. With moving every year or changing schools since the fourth grade to her sophomore year, she learned reading was a fast escape. The freedom to read about anything and everything has fueled her adult imagination. She also enjoys romance, horses, and yes, still loves to read. Right now, she’s probably attacking her keyboard writing her next book. If she’s not, she should be!
Genetic Attraction is my first novel (although I’ve been writing nonfiction for many years). I decided to write it when I discovered erotic romance and loved the genre so much, I thought “I could write one of these books.” But Genetic Attraction didn’t start out to be a ménage a trois. When I first conceived the plot, I expected it to be an older woman/younger man romance, but then one day I ordered a book by Jet Mykles called Heaven. It was my first male/male romance and I was hooked! I had to add another man to my book.
Fortunately, ignorance is bliss. I didn’t know that writing a ménage is hard, so I just plunged in. Since this first novel, I’ve written three other books and two of them are ménages:– one is m/m/f and one is m/m/m/. I guess I really like this dynamic. Here’s what I’m learning:
- Love between three people can be just as sweet and intense and passionate as between two– at least in romance novels! The real-life dynamics of a ménage are probably very tricky, but virtually everyone has harbored in their heart at sometime the thought that maybe, just maybe, they could love two people. Ménage stories play into this fantasy.
- Ménages make interesting plots. Simple, you have three people to play with, to make interact with each other, to provide richness and detail to your story. In Genetic Attraction, two of my lead characters are scientists and one is a supermodel. As readers, we get to see scenes played out in their different worlds- in the lab, at photo shoots, at a faculty party.
- Pronouns can be killers! Writing male/male stories is a unique challenge since both characters are called “he”, so you have to find ways to differentiate them without using their names constantly, and without being confusing. Now, add another man to the mix as I’m doing in my current work-in-progress, a m/m/m ménage. Yikes. It takes some creativity and very deep point-of-view for each character.
- Sex between three people needs careful thought. The reader needs to know where each character is and what they’re doing. No one can be left out, so we need to see reactions from each character as well as actions.
- But, oh, it’s soooo much fun. A ménage is fun to read and it’s fun to write. So many yummy things can be done simultaneously when you have three people. Just use your imagination. That’s what I did. : )
I want to thank Selena for being such a gracious host and for all her incredible help and support to this new author. And huge hugs to all the readers who have been sending me messages on e-mail and Twitter and in blog posts saying how much they enjoy the book and the excerpts. It makes me cry, guys. So tell me, what kind of romantic pairings or multiples do you most enjoy? You’ve got a bunch or writers listening who will be happy to give them to you!? : )
At a conservative Long Island University, renowned researcher, Dr. Emmaline Silvay, has two great loves– her life-saving work, and her younger research partner, Jake Martin. The romantic love is impossible. She’s his boss and he lives with his girlfriend. The the “girlfriend” is actually a boyfriend, the beautiful and infamous supermodel, Roan Black.
Resigned to a platonic relationship, Em accepts a weekend invitation to their home, but the men have a menage on their minds. She can’t resist, doesn’t even want to. But their intentions go far beyond passion. They want her to “be a part of them”. Their three-way love defies propriety and the standards of the University that funds their work. The supermodel’s fame makes secrecy impossible. Their ménage threatens to crumble all she’s worked for. What will give way to make room for genetic attraction?
Yikes! Damn, he got her again. The lab staff teased her for getting so absorbed in her work an ax murderer could sneak up on her.
She looked up from her computer at her favorite tall, blond ax murderer, a.k.a. research associate. The blue, blue eyes behind the Clark Kent wire rims sparkled with humor.
He chuckled. “Sorry, I tried to make a lot of noise opening your door.”
She sighed and pushed away from the big wooden desk that crowded her small office. Oh yeah, now she felt the exhaustion. “I was somewhere else, as usual.”
“Just wanted to know if you’d finished the gene sequencing?”
She looked up into that sculpted face and squinted at the pain between her eyebrows. “I got a lot done, but I’m seeing double.” Headache or not, she could see him just fine.
“C’mon, it’s after nine. Let’s give up before we have a thirty-two-gene sequence instead of sixteen.”
Ouch. Fourteen hours at a computer. She closed her eyes and stretched her neck to the side.
Strong, warm hands pressed down on her shoulders. His fingers pushed her head forward, and powerful thumbs dug into her neck. She jumped and then shivered.
“That’s where it hurts, right?” He dug in a little deeper.
Increased heart rate. Spiked respiration. She thought of it as the “Jake reaction.” The touch of those strong, young hands that he seemed to put on her body way too often and the warm smell of him always powered a reaction. Some tiny part of her rational scientist’s mind could watch while her body went wacko, tingling, shivering and yearning. She might be a thirty-six-year-old geneticist with a huge reputation to protect, but she wanted Jake Martin with a lust she couldn’t reason away. It was a crappy idea, the very worst for her sanity and her career, but those were the facts. Like the direct pathway of alcohol to the liver, nothing got in the way of her desire, not his youth, his position as her assistant researcher, or the fact that he lived with his girlfriend.
She pulled away from his hands. “We should go.”
His slight pause made her think she’d hurt him with her abruptness, but when she glanced up he smiled, flashing patentable dimples. “Let’s get something to eat.”
God, the cheekbones. The floppy gold hair. Half science geek, half demigod. He’d already stripped out of his lab coat, and the well-worn jeans hugged long, lean thighs. Resistance was futile. “Penne with sun-dried tomatoes?”
“You got it, sweetheart.” He pulled her out of the chair, a move that almost backed him up to her side wall. Space wasn’t a luxury afforded in this lab.
“Show proper respect there, boy child. That’s Doctor Sweetheart.”
“Then I’ll have to demand Doctor Boy Child.”
“Boy Child PhD?”
“Top of my résumé.” Jake leaned her against his chest — yeah, that would be rock-hard chest — and slipped the lab coat she wore on clinic days off her shoulders and threw it on her desk.
He just held her, his hands caressing her back as his breath rasped against her hair.
Damn, why did he do this? He touched her a lot, and she didn’t know if he simply didn’t realize how sexual his attentions seemed or if he was being sadistic. Wasn’t he getting enough at home?
She pulled back and practiced her motherly smile. “I must be tired.”
Gently turning her around, he pushed her toward the door, switching off the lights as they went. “Mama Sophia’s?”
Outside in the open lab, she shrugged on the green wool jacket he held for her. Computers still glowed on two desks where colleagues would return after dinner to continue work. She had a dedicated team, and she hated to leave, but eventually food and sleep even outweighed cancer research. She usually got here before seven, and food breaks were scarce. The thought of pasta made her mouth water as she watched Jake switch off the lights. “C’mon, Dr. Boy Child. Garlic is my drug of choice.”
* * * * *
“Okay, God is Italian.” The subtle flavor of tomatoes, garlic, and olive oil floated over her tongue.
“Yeah, just ask an Italian. He’ll tell you God gave them Sophia Loren and seventy-five-year-old prime ministers that still get it up for their twenty-five-year-old mistresses. Clearly, divine dispensation.” He sucked in a bite.
Mmm. Warm, oregano-spiced air, and the cinnamony smell of Jake beside her. Her favorites. “I thought that was all about the little blue pill?”
“Also a gift from the gods.”
They sat in their favorite red, faux-leather booth at the back of the homey restaurant complete with Chianti-bottle candles and red-checked tablecloths. Jake had taken off his leather jacket, leaving him in a soft, gray, tissue-thin sweater that hugged his beautiful lean torso. He’d pushed the sleeves up, and she tried not to stare at those corded golden forearms. The soft material of the sweater was almost as beautiful as his skin.
How did the man afford to dress that way on what she paid him? Never flashy, but even she could see the clothes had quality. He didn’t come from money, but he had just bought a house in what she’d heard was a very elegant neighborhood in Connecticut. Did his girlfriend have money? Damn, the girlfriend certainly had him.
“Am I finally going to meet your girlfriend on Friday?”
He made a quick grab for his water glass and took a sip, splashing a few drops on his glasses. “My girlfriend?”
Why was he being coy? “Yes, the girlfriend you moved in with, right? She must be curious about where you spend so many late nights. I assume you’re going to bring her Friday.”
He pulled his glasses off and wiped them on his napkin, looking tense. What was up? She reached out and flipped his shaggy hair from in front of those blue eyes. The man always needed a haircut. Another part of his charm.
“I, uh, wasn’t really planning on coming Friday night.”
Oh, hell no. “You are truly kidding me, Jake. You’ve got to know what that award means to us, to our research, if someone…you know, someone on our team…were to win it.” She didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but she’d hocked a lot of political capital lobbying for him to win the Belden Award. The prize for outstanding young scientist was a big deal to the university too, since all the major research schools from across the country were invited to submit candidates. Jeez, it’d never occurred to her that he’d just bow out of the ceremony. “Really, Jake, it’s important.”
He glanced at her, and then his pasta got interesting again.
“Okay, I’ll come.”
“Jesus, could you be more enthusiastic? You need to come, Jake. And you’ll bring your girlfriend, right? I want to meet her, and it will show the faculty council what a lovely, settled, family person you are. At least one of us isn’t a confirmed bachelor.”
He clenched his jaw and forced words out between his teeth. “Em, I’ll come to the banquet, but I haven’t got a girlfriend. And I sure as fuck can’t show the faculty council my happy family life.”
The girlfriend was gone? “What happened? You told me you just moved in with her.” Damn, she really didn’t want to screw with his life. “Jesus, Jake, is it because I’m working you to death? I’ll talk to her. Give you more time off.”
He held a hand to her lips. “Easy, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I haven’t told you the truth, but I just…crap, I don’t know. I should have told you a long time ago. I just wasn’t sure it would work, it was such a long shot.”
What in hell was he talking about?
She got the first direct stare since they sat down. “Em, I can’t bring my girlfriend to the award dinner…because she’s my boyfriend. The person I moved in with is a man.” He sat back, still gazing at her steadily, challengingly.
Every nerve ending went hot. Then cold. What the fuck?
“And for the record, I never said I moved in with my girlfriend. I said I moved in with my lover, and you did the rest. I’m sorry.”
She knew her mouth was hanging open. Jake, gay? Her fantasy lover? She didn’t know how to feel. As a kid in the commune, she and her mom had practically collected gay friends. How could she have missed it?
Jesus, she was shaking. She didn’t want him to think she was horrified. She wasn’t. Just shocked and…what? Disappointed? Now there was no chance for her.
“Jesus, Jake, I know I can be self-absorbed, but I didn’t know I was blind.” Okay, she had to get a grip. People were looking their way. She lowered her voice. “How could it never have crossed my mind that you’re gay? How could I have missed it so completely in almost two years of working together?”
“Em, I’m really sorry.”
He was sorry. Shit! “You didn’t think you could tell me? Did you imagine it would matter to me?”
He grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “No! Of course I didn’t think you’d care. I didn’t tell you I’m gay because, well, I’m not. Or wasn’t. I’ve mostly been with women. You know; you’ve seen me with enough of them. I’d only been with one other man in my life when I met Roan. We met less than a year ago at the genetics conference I attended with you.”
“That’s why you were acting so strangely at the conference?” She remembered how edgy and distracted he’d been.
“Yeah. I was face-to-face with my sexuality and with the best thing I’d ever seen.”
That put a little rip in her heart.
Releasing her hands, he gripped his own together. “But it was such an unlikely match, and the chances we’d stay together were so small, I didn’t want to tell you and then split up with him.” He sighed and shrugged at the same time. “But the truth is, I fell in love with the guy, and even though it amazes me every day, he loves me back. So I’m gay.” Grin. “At least operationally.”
Trying to get a grip here. “Roan?”
“Yeah, that’s his name. And I really do want you to meet him; planned on it in fact.” He touched her hand, gently stroking his fingers over her palm, and she just couldn’t pull away. “You both mean so much to me. I want you to love each other too.”
Maybe it would be easier to like a man Jake loved more than it would a woman. Maybe she could beat back the jealousy, knowing he was more interested in men. Fuck, she’d have to.
He sat back. “But I don’t think the faculty award dinner is the place. I don’t want to hide my relationship exactly. My family knows, and they’re great about it, but hell, you know the faculty council and the administration, especially Kovak.”
“Our own private Inquisitor?”
“Yeah. The faculty council will never say they’re firing me because I’m gay. They’ll make up another reason. I just don’t want to rub their faces in it. If they find out some other way, fine.”
She took another deep breath, just trying to cope. “You know, there are several gay men on the faculty. Professor Montag makes jelly beans look colorless, and some others probably cross-dress in their spare time.”
“Yeah, but they stay in the closet. Don’t ask; don’t tell. Plus, they were here before Kovak, so he kind of ignores them.”
“So just bring your, uh…Roan and let them guess. Maybe he’s just a friend or something.”
“He’s a little too noticeable.”
“What? A drag queen?”
He grinned. “No, you’ll see when you meet him.”
One thing was clear. “You have to come to the banquet. Do you get that? And if this man is the one you love, I think he should be there too. Am I making myself clear?”
He laughed. “Yes, Mother.”
“Hey, why don’t you and Roan escort me to the bloody banquet? Then no one will know who’s with whom. We can say he’s a friend of both of ours. You’ll both be my dates. I get to meet him, and he gets to be there for you.”
“I thought you were coming with Henry.”
“Not nearly often enough.” He snorted Chianti. Okay, bad joke, but then Henry was a pretty bad lover. “Anyway, as chance would have it, I haven’t invited him yet, so I’m free to be your diversion.”
“You’re a diversion only in the best possible way.” His face lit up with enthusiasm. “But actually it’s perfect. You’ll come home with us after the banquet and spend the weekend. I’ve been planning to invite you out for weeks, but we’ve been so busy at the lab. So come this weekend. Then you can get to know Roan and see the new house at the same time. You get me where you want me, and” — he chuckled — “I get you where I want you.”
She gazed at the beautiful face. He’d taken off his glasses so nothing distracted from those crystal blue eyes. How often had she fantasized about spending time with him? Sadly, those fantasies had never involved a gay lover. But bottom line, he had to come to the banquet, and a weekend in Connecticut sounded like fun even in the company of two gay men. Of course, the faculty council sure as hell wouldn’t agree with her. They would puke if they knew Doctor Emmaline Silvay, lead researcher and hope for all great international genetics prizes, was consorting with her twenty-six-year-old assistant. Gay assistant. She felt her mom’s rebel blood rise in her veins.
“What time will you pick me up, and what kind of clothes should I pack?”
Tara Lain, like so many novelists, wrote her first book at five. Writing ability got her through college when there wasn’t enough time in the day, and, shortly thereafter, it became a marketable skill. Very early in life, people started paying her to write — scripts for industrial films, brochures, magazine articles on semiconductors. She became a really successful non-fiction “ghost-writer”.
Now, when you’re being paid well to write non-fiction, it’s tough to spend time writing fiction that nobody pays you for for a long time. But then Tara found EROM (erotic romance). Always a lover of fantasy, she got hooked on the beauty, emotion, and happily-ever-after of these books (to say nothing of the great sex) and was finally inspired to write one of her own. But writing fiction is REALLY different than non-fiction. There was so much to learn, and after writing her first book she went back to school (via online workshops) and really got down to learning the craft. A year later, she had rewritten that book, and created another one, and a very supportive publisher said yes! Today, she’s off and running as a passionate writer of erotic fiction.
Married to a her soul mate, a wonderful man who surprises her every day, Tara continues to love semiconductors and software and medical devices — all with a little touch of romance. She’s also an artist in her spare time (LOL) working in oil and mixed media collage.
Tara would love to:hear from you.
Coming in Winter 2011 to Ai Press
Hot new M/M author, D. H. Starr delivers his latest tale of love, sexual exploration and the challenges of relationship. The road of love is fraught with difficulty, even when you’re sure that man is your soul-mate.
Derek Thompson and Scott Thayer met in high school. Facing challenges and overcoming obstacles that would make lesser young men fold, they now have the chance to forge a life together. As they enter college, they finally have the time and space to discover each other sexually and give their virginity to each other. However, in spite of the erotic thrill of exploration, there are still challenges ahead, challenges that will test their love and devotion…
While Derek wants to live as an openly gay man, Scott wishes to maintain a degree of privacy. Not only that, but another freshman, Tyrell Jackson, becomes infatuated with Derek and wants Derek for his own. In the face of these threats to their burgeoning relationship, Derek and Scott are forced to look within themselves and make difficult decisions which will change both of their lives forever.
Is their relationship strong enough to bear the strain of balancing their needs as individuals and as a couple? The only way Derek and Scott will attain their ultimate reward is by finding the courage to face their fears. Will they rise to the challenge?
Excerpt: (Unedited. May differ slightly from final version)
Scott walked over to the window and looked out. ?I was thinking?oh, there are your parents getting into the car. Good! I was thinking we could take a shower together before heading over to Beck?s. We both stink and, well, the only showers we?ve taken together were in the locker room at school with a ton of other guys.?
All of Derek?s blood ran to his cock. Why hadn?t?he thought of that? It was like Scott had a sixth sense. Just when Derek was beginning to feel doubt or concern about the two of them, Scott?s alpha male side would emerge and turn Derek into a puddle of longing at his feet. Without bothering to readjust himself, he dashed for the door, calling over his shoulder. ?I?ll race you to the bathroom.?
Having the house to themselves, they didn?t have any concerns about being interrupted. They undressed hastily in Derek?s room, tossing their clothes to the floor, and tumbled across the hall into the bathroom. Stepping into the steamy interior of the enclosed shower, they embraced each other, allowing the hot water to slick their bodies. Scott ran his hands up and down Derek?s back, gently caressing his skin, as Derek ran his hands over broad chest muscles and defined abs, then leaned in and tilted his head up, bringing his mouth to Scott?s, as water washed through their hair and down their faces.
Needy hands gripped Derek?s ass, pulling him closer and grinding their now rigid cocks together. ?Before we get too far into this, you?know that we aren?t going to do anything more than petting right??
Derek was too lost in the heat of the water and by standing naked next to Scott to argue. ?Yeah, yeah. I know the rules. Not until we get to college.?
Satisfied, Scott returned his attention to touching Derek. ?I love the way your body angles down from your shoulders towards your waist and how your ribs ripple your sides, but disappear into you?re your lats. Your muscles aren?t too large, but they?re so clearly defined. I could spend days just looking at and touching you.? After delivering his praises, he lowered his head and captured Derek in a hungry kiss.
Derek had fantasized about showering with Scott hundreds of times, but even his most explicit dreams didn?t come close to the reality of standing under the rush of water as he held the only boy who had been able to open his heart. Pulling out of the kiss, he stared at Scott. Beside the dazzling blue-green eyes, Scott?s had shaggy blond hair which was now matted to his forehead and clinging to his neck. His skin was naturally bronzed and he had a strong jaw line which gave him a rugged, masculine appearance. A bit of scruffy stubble completed the image nicely.
Rising onto his toes, Derek placed his lips at the crook where jaw met neck and slowly kissed his way down the lean cords of muscle until he reached the collar bone. Glancing down, he gasped at the sight of his bulging pecs and flat abdomen, defined ridged abs. All other images and thoughts vanished as soon as he saw Scott?s cock which stood fully erect between their two bodies.
The combination of running water, slick skin on skin, and seeing Scott?s naked body in the full light of the bathroom sent a new wave of excitement through Derek?s body. ?Remind me why we haven?t showered together before??
Scott bent his head so that his forehead was resting on Derek?s shoulder, his hands still securely planted on each butt cheek. ?She?s called Claire and if she ever caught us doing this, she?d lock up that chastity belt she?s got on you and throw away the key forever. Once we get to college we?ll have all the time in the world to do this and much more without worrying about your mom.?
Taking some body wash, Derek applied a generous amount to the loofah which hung from the shower nozzle and began to clean Scott, forming a rich, thick foam as he did so. ?Oh, yeah, that?s right.? He snickered and continued his scrubbing. ?Can we stop talking about my mom now? I?m sure we can find other things to focus on.?
Allowing water to wash away the soap he had applied to Scott?s body, Derek lowered his lips to one nipple, closing his mouth around the succulent bit of flesh, running his tongue in circles as the nub hardened.
Scott groaned and placed a hand on the back of Derek?s head, holding him there. Needing no further encouragement, he bit down, using his teeth to increase the stimulation. Over the past few months he had learned exactly how to drive Scott wild. Stimulating his nipples was one of the most effective ways. As he teased, moans filled the bathroom as his erection pressed against Derek?s stomach.
As if choreographed, they both reached down and wrapped their fingers around rigid shafts at the same time. Slowly tugging at each other, they began to increase their motion, still locked in a fervent kiss. Tension began to build up in Derek?s balls and his core muscles began to quiver in fast, ticklish spasms of pleasure. ?Scott, I?m?going?to?come.? With a loud moan, he tilted his head back, water crashing onto his face, as his cock erupted under Scott?s skillful manipulation.
As soon as Derek?s release subsided, Scott?s breathing became heavy. Derek quickened his pace as he jerked at his cock.
Scott grabbed Derek behind his neck and pressed their foreheads together tightly as his cock pulsed, releasing ribbons of cum into Derek?s hand while staring directly into his eyes. His moans were not as loud as Derek?s had been, but they contained an animal ruggedness, almost as if he were growling.
Derek felt the lingering spasms of Scott?s orgasm as his cock pulsed in his hand. Leaning heavily into Scott?s body, he rested his head on the rounded shoulder muscle and sighed. After a moment, Scott wrapped his arms around Derek. ?That was incredible.?
M/M; Sci-fi; Adventure
Release Date: May 29, 2010
Price ebook: 5.49
Trade paperback: 8.49
Kenji doesn’t know who he is or where he came from, only that he woke up one day, naked and alone on Terran A, possessing nothing in the world but a golden statue. All he knows is his survival, serving drink to roughnecks in Spike’s bar for a living. The one bright spot in his life is Jake Fallon, a cop with Interstellar Patrol. Though Fallon is only another customer, Kenji senses something different about him, something that inspires Kenji to trust Fallon with his body and his life. When Kenji is attacked and pursued by a vicious bounty hunter one night, Fallon also becomes his only hope.
Fallon’s passion for Kenji mixes with his desire to rescue the beautiful man from danger. He’s already more than half in love with Kenji and falling deeper as the bounty hunter’s pursuit takes them from galaxy to galaxy. For the first time since his first partner was killed, Fallon dares to surrender his heart again. However, as their race for survival uncovers Kenji’s true origins, Fallon may have to let Kenji go in order for Kenji to fulfill the very purpose of his existence…
A gust of cooler air breezed through, pulling Kenji from a fantasy. He looked in the direction of the door, which had just opened, closing in the wake of yet another brawny patron.
Kenji’s heart beat a little harder.
The man—a stranger to him–checked his weapon.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Muscular chest straining against a white T-shirt. Dark, close-cropped hair, nice sideburns.
This one was different. Kenji’s mouth went dry.
This one was hot.
By his clean-cut appearance Kenji guessed he was a cop. That was nothing unusual in this place. But there was something about the way he moved—deliberate—smooth, relaxed yet tightly wound, like he could spring in a second, that kept Kenji’s attention riveted.
At that second, the guy looked up. His eyes made a brief yet slow survey of the crowded room.
And then they landed on Kenji.
Kenji couldn’t tell what color they were from this distance, but he could feel them. They seemed to burn down into his very soul. They seemed to know who he was even when Kenji himself didn’t know.
Everything in the roomful of rowdy tattooed, leather-clad space junkies, space cowboys and bounty hunters receded. He was more captured than he was during one of his visions.
And then he began to walk toward Kenji, his eyes never leaving Kenji’s, his brawny torso flexing with each step.
Was it a few seconds or minutes before the guy stood before him, so close to his barstool that Kenji could see the dark stubble covering the strong line of his chin and jaw? So close that he caught a whiff of something spicy? Cologne that made Kenji’s groin tingle.
The man pointed to the empty stool. “Is this seat taken?” He had a nice smile and incredible eyes, the color of the blue through which Kenji was falling in his recurring vision. Yet in those eyes was a touch of sadness the grin didn’t dispel.
Kenji blinked. The stool next to him had been vacated within the last few seconds by the hustler sitting there. He must have gotten a hit and taken his customer to the back rooms. “I was saving it for you,” he heard himself say. And froze. What had possessed him? He’d never spoken like that to anyone.
A throaty chuckle. “That so “Well, this is my lucky night, isn’t it?” He seated himself and held out a hand. “Jake Fallon, Intergalactic Space Patrol.”
So he was a cop. Kenji accepted the offer of handshake. Warm. Strong. Nice. “Kenji.”
“Pleased to meet you, Kenji,” Jake Fallon said. “What are you drinking?”
Nice accent too. From England. On Earth. A bunch of the guys who came here were from England. Though they had a variety of accents, Kenji had heard this one before with its lightly rolled “r’s.”
“Just fizzy water,” he answered finally. He raised his glass, now wishing he’d gotten something stronger. Fizzy water was so…not cool. “It’s not…loaded.”
Jake Fallon looked at him a moment. A tiny grin flashed across his nicely curved lips. “I see. Well, I’ll have that too then.” He signaled the bartender, causing the muscles in his back to strain against his T-shirt. Dan came and took his order, leaving Fallon free to turn back to him.
Kenji swallowed hard and stared down into the clear, bubbling water in his glass. His heart pounded and he wiped his palms off on his pants. “I’ve…never seen you here before,” he said. And almost slapped his forehead. How lame was that?
Sadness flitted through the other man’s blue eyes. “I haven’t been here in a long time.” He sighed just as Dan placed his order in front of him. Fallon lifted his glass, his sad look replaced with a grin. “As we say back in Manchester, cheers,” he said, and clinked it against Kenji’s glass.
Kenji watched Fallon take a drink, his head tilted back enough that Kenji could watch the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed. Shifting on his barstool, he hoped the other man couldn’t see the tightening in his cock, which started to push against his trousers. “You’re from Manchester?”
“Yeah, originally. But I’ve been flying through space for so long now I feel more alien than anything else.” He chuckled. “What about you?”
Kenji stiffened. Good question. Where was he from? He shrugged. “Around here.”
Fallon paused. Then a look slipped into his face, something that said, I understand, you can’t tell me. Lots of fugitives stalked the Terran outposts, secretive about their origins. They provided much lucrative fodder for the bounty hunters who’d proliferated with humankind’s reach into space. “No worries, Kenji. It doesn’t matter.”
Kenji remained silent and filled the moment with sipping his drink.
“In answer to your comment about not having seen me here before,” Fallon said, “I lost my partner a couple of years ago. A fire at ISP headquarters. This was a place we used to come on our nights off when we were in this sector.” He sighed and took another large sip. “I figured it’s about time to be getting on with things.”
That must be the sadness he’d seen in Fallon’s eyes. Whoever the dead man was, Fallon must have really loved him to have stayed away for so long. His fingers tightened on his own glass.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally.
Fallon nodded. “Thanks, Kenji.” He sipped his drink, eyeing Kenji with a thoughtful expression. “May I ask you a personal question?”
Kenji’s heart thumped, but he shrugged, trying to appear casual. He didn’t know what else to do in his first real conversation with someone he was attracted to. “Sure.”
The other man tilted his head. “You seem…different from the usual patrons here. You’re more, um, refined. Are you…” he gestured toward one of the hustlers on the other side of the bar, a guy named Pieter.
Kenji blinked. “You mean a…hustler?”
Fallon grimaced. “Sorry. That was rude of me. I’m so out of practice.”
He smiled. No insult there. The hustlers were more refined looking for the most part. It was the contrast between them and their roughneck clients that got them paid. “No. I’m a bartender here. For the last few months.” He glanced down into his drink before continuing. “I usually leave after my shift, but I tonight I…was in the mood to hang around.”
Fallon leaned a bit closer, bringing that great scent with him. The energy of his maleness so close sent shivers through Kenji’s body, all the way to his toes. “I’m glad you waited, Kenji. I wouldn’t have met you, had you left.”
Kenji looked up. Again, Fallon was so close, their lips were mere inches away. Kenji caught himself tilting in closer.
“Jake Fallon, hey!”
Kenji jerked away. Bud had returned from the back room and now stood right behind Fallon, thumping him on the back in a rough greeting.
“Hi, Bud. Long time.” Fallon swiveled on his stool and offered the other man his hand.
Bud pumped Fallon’s hand and gripped his shoulder with his other hand. “Good to see you, man! Where ya been?” Before Fallon could answer, Bud turned a bemused look to Kenji then back. “You lucky fuckin’ dog, Fallon! Kenji here doesn’t let anyone within three feet of his fine little body.” He winked in Kenji’s direction. “I should know. I been trying to get him into bed ever since he showed up in this place. He resists me like the plague.”
Kenji frowned at him, his cheeks burning. “Behave, Bud.”
Bud grinned. “No hard feelings, Kenji. I know you been waiting for the right guy to come along.” He winked at Fallon. “He doesn’t come out and say that. It’s just obvious.” With a final shake of his head, he added, “You are in for a treat. Mm…mmm.”
How humiliating. Unbearably so. What would Fallon think of him now? He didn’t want to know. Best to get away. With a quick glance at Fallon, he mumbled, “Well, I gotta go.”
Without giving Fallon a chance to react, Kenji slid off the barstool and started to jostle his way through the press of smelly male bodies. But before he got more than two steps away, a large hand closed gently on his shoulder, ushering him around to press lightly up against Fallon’s broad front.
The corner of Fallon’s lips turned up in a sexy way. “Slow down, laddie.” His blue eyes searched Kenji’s, as if trying to read his thoughts. “What is it? What Bud said?” His large hand squeezed his shoulder. “The guy is a bit of a wanker but he means well.”
Kenji swallowed, finding it hard to speak for a second. He shook his head, trying to convey his agreement.
“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. I can’t think of any bloke who’d want to take him to bed.”
Kenji had to chuckle and Fallon’s answering grin made the remaining tension in Kenji’s body relax.
The next second Fallon’s grin evaporated and his eyes took on a serious look. “But, uh, if there’s any truth in what Bud said, then I’m flattered.” He squeezed Kenji’s shoulder again, the touch like a warm brand passing right through his thin white shirt and onto his skin.
Kenji’s good eyelid fluttered a bit as heat invaded his body.
Fallon’s hand moved from Kenji’s shoulder to his chin, chucking it. “So, do you like me enough to get out of here together?”