Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
And because I'm so excited about this book, even though it won't be out for almost two months, here's a bit of a more explicit excerpt *g* Enjoy!
When Leon Fisher finds his lover butchered in their bed, he does what any good assassin would do—he gets revenge. But killing the murderer doesn’t make the pain go away. Instead, it sends him on a vicious downward spiral into alcoholism and depression.
In a bid to force Leon to sober up and regain his edge, his mysterious employers—known only as “the organization”—send him to a private property in the wilds of Alaska. In the lush and remote Tongass National Forest, Leon encounters Grim, a strange but alluring young man who saves Leon’s life after a bear attack, then brings him to a cabin in the depths of the woods to recover.
Leon doesn’t expect to fall in love with this odd, subservient person, yet he can’t deny what he comes to feel for Grim. But Grim has a past he doesn’t talk about. A past just as dark and ugly as Leon’s. And both pasts are about to catch up with them.
That evening, easing his aching body gingerly onto the bed, Leon decided he’d been severely underestimating Grim all this time. He’d watched Grim clean and gut fish, skin and dress rabbits, birds and deer, but he’d never appreciated what hard work it was. He’d assumed the whole thing was as easy as Grim made it look.
It wasn’t. Raw flesh, Leon quickly discovered, was tough, and the ligaments and tendons holding the joints together even tougher. Grim’s knives and cleavers were hefty and well-honed, so sharp that when Leon accidentally cut himself, he didn’t even feel it, but it had still taken him a considerable amount of effort to separate the deer’s legs from its body. He hadn’t dared to help Grim skin the carcass after that. His injured shoulder had begun to ache, and his arms felt weak. He was afraid that if he tried to skin the animal, the knife would slip and he would cut himself again. Or worse, cut Grim.
“Sorry I wasn’t more help,” Leon said as Grim came back inside, arms wet to the elbows, carrying the dinner dishes he’d been washing in the little stream behind the cabin. “I’ll get the hang of it eventually, I swear.”
Grim smiled as he stacked the clean dishes on the hutch. Shadows from the failing light outside made his dimple seem deeper than normal. “You did fine, Leon. Especially for your first time. It’ll get easier, don’t worry.” He grabbed a long match from the dwindling supply beside the woodbox, kindled it in the stove and lit the kerosene lantern. Carrying the lantern over to the bed, he placed it carefully on the floor and sat on the futon beside Leon. “Are you hurting? I can give you a massage, if you want.”
Reaching up, Leon brushed the hair from Grim’s eyes. “You don’t have to do that. You must be tired too.”
“Not really. I’m used to it. You’re not.” Grim slid both hands beneath Leon’s sweater. His fingers were icy from the cold water of the stream, making Leon’s skin pebble. “So, would you like a massage? Or would you rather have something else?”
The familiar gleam in Grim’s eyes told Leon precisely what Grim meant by “something else”. In an instant, Leon’s fatigue was swept away by a wave of desire so intense it froze his breath.
Ignoring the way his sore muscles screamed at him, he locked his arms around Grim’s waist and rolled so that Grim lay underneath him. Grim squeaked in surprise. He stared up at Leon with wide, lust-dark eyes, panting through parted lips. His hands clutched Leon’s shoulders so hard it hurt.
“I want to fuck you,” Leon said, his voice low and rough.
Grim’s eyelids fluttered. His face flushed pink. “Okay. Will you let me up? So I can undress and…and everything?”
Leon shook his head. Every time they had sex, it was doggie-style. Grim hadn’t said no on the one occasion when Leon had requested a different position, but he’d been so clearly uncomfortable fucking face-to-face that Leon had changed his mind.
Not that he didn’t enjoy taking Grim from behind. He did. Very much. But he could no longer ignore his desire to watch Grim’s face while they fucked, to look into his eyes when he came.
“Not yet,” Leon whispered, drawing his fingers down Grim’s cheek in a soft caress. “Just lie here for a little while. Let me touch you. Okay?”
The apprehension Leon had expected filled Grim’s eyes, but it wasn’t strong enough to drown out the need pouring off him in palpable waves. He nodded.
It was all the permission Leon needed. Standing up, Leon undressed as fast as he could. Grim lay still, his gaze raking up and down Leon’s body. Naked, Leon knelt on the bed and started pulling off Grim’s clothes. Grim tried to help. When Leon batted his hands away, he kept himself busy stroking as much of Leon’s skin as he could reach.
Once he had Grim undressed, Leon nudged his legs apart and knelt between them. He reached over to the little bedside table Grim had built the previous month and grabbed the tub of cooking fat they’d started using when the lube ran out. The smell of it wasn’t pleasant, but Leon figured that was a small price to pay for the pure bliss of sinking his cock into Grim’s body.
Grim hadn’t needed much preparation after their first few times together. At this point, a couple firm strokes of Leon’s thumb was usually all it took for Grim’s hole to open up. Normally, Leon would plunge his prick into Grim’s ass the second the tight muscles relaxed enough. Tonight, he wanted to take his time. To touch and tease, caress Grim inside and out until all his inhibitions melted away and he gave himself up completely to Leon.
Fingers coated with grease, Leon scooted backward enough to bend forward and kiss the tip of Grim’s cock. Grim let out a surprised shout and tried to squirm away. Leon stopped him with a hand across his hips.
“Relax,” Leon murmured, pressing his cheek to the inside of Grim’s thigh. He pushed two fingers into Grim’s ass, drawing a ragged moan from Grim. “I want to suck your cock. Let me?”
He raised his head to look into Grim’s eyes. Grim stared back, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He wanted Leon to do it. That much was clear on his face. Leon held his breath, hoping Grim would set aside his fear of making decisions in bed and tell Leon what he really wanted.
“Okay,” Grim whispered finally. His eyes were huge, his breath coming far too fast.
Leon wanted Grim to say it. Hearing the words “suck my cock” from Grim’s lips would be so fucking hot. But he kept the thought to himself. For some reason, this was a huge step for Grim, and Leon didn’t want to push his luck.
Moving slowly, Leon took the tip of Grim’s prick into his mouth and sealed his lips around it. He circled the silky-soft head with his tongue, dipping into the slit and under the edge of the foreskin. Grim moaned, legs spreading wider.
Humming, Leon took Grim deep into his throat. God, Grim tasted good, sharp and rich and earthy. Leon crooked his fingers to nail Grim’s gland, just so he could feel Grim’s body jerk and hear his soft whimpers.
“Oooooooh, God,” Grim breathed as Leon pulled his fingers out, pushed both thumbs in and spread him open. “Good. Oh. Leon.”
Grim’s thighs shifted. Sliding his mouth up Grim’s shaft to suck at the head, Leon glanced up, and nearly came right then. Grim’s hands were hooked behind his knees, lifting his legs up and spreading them obscenely wide. His head was twisted to the side, mouth open and eyes screwed shut. He looked decadent and beautiful, and Leon’s heart swelled with the knowledge that he was the one giving Grim such pleasure. It was a powerful feeling.
He worked Grim with lips, fingers and tongue until he heard the breathless “uh-uh-uh” sounds which usually preceded Grim’s orgasms, then abruptly drew back. Grim’s cock hit his belly with a damp smack as it popped free of Leon’s mouth. Pulling his fingers free of Grim’s hole, Leon rose to his knees between Grim’s splayed legs.
Grim stared at Leon with unfocused eyes. “Wh… What? I…n-need… I need…” His words trailed off into a frustrated whine. Letting go of his right leg, he grabbed his cock, dug his foot into the mattress and thrust up into his hand. A low moan issued from his lips.
Leon drew a shaky breath and let it out, trying to hold on to his control. He’d never seen Grim completely incoherent before, and the sight was almost enough to undo him.
He leaned forward over Grim’s body, planting his hands on either side of Grim’s rib cage to hold his weight. His cock brushed Grim’s, and they both groaned at the contact. “I can’t see your face down there,” Leon said, bending lower until he could feel Grim’s short, sharp breaths on his lips. “I want you to come with my cock in your ass, and I want to watch your face when it happens.”
Friday, December 28, 2007
Me? I need a big sign to help judge on appearances alone:
I would've liked to ask the people who made the comments why they felt the models looked gay, but my worry is that the question would've come off as confrontational--something I don't wish to be. The fact is, I'm genuinely curious what gives off the impression of gayness.
Obviously, I'm beating a dead cultural horse here, but stereotypes bug the crap out of me. And I also know the people who made the comments about how the models "look gay" don't mean to be insulting. I guess...I guess I just find it sad. And I'm confused as hell because I seriously don't see any of the gayness they did. I'll toss exhibit A out to whoever would like to take a stab at my conundrum. This model was one of the ones labeled "gay", months and months ago, and it still bothers me because I can't figure it out:
Maybe I'm over-sensitive when it comes to labels...but I really can't understand how such an intangible part of someone's identity as his or her sexuality can be so obvious to others based only one photo. I just dunno.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Tony stared out over the moonlit snow. The cold rail cut through layers of clothing. He’d dressed to impress, not to be warm. “This was such a rip.” He bitched, to everyone and no one at once.
“No shit!” The only other occupant of the balcony took a drag of his cigarette. Red embers threw high boned cheeks into base relief. “One hundred indices of compatibility my ass.”
“I know, forked out five-hundred for this weekend,” Tony snorted, “and I ain’t found the fucking chick listed on my compatibility match-up.”
“You’re telling me?” Dark eyes dropped half mast as the tall man growled out the rest. “One-twenty for the freaking profile. I hit the perfect match.” His voice echoed with a deep rich tenor. A singing voice, Tony mused. He’d put down singing as a hobby himself. “All of twenty-five get togethers and the one my soul mate will be at is New Years in the Mountains and the fucking bitch doesn’t show.”
Tony raised his glass to the evening. Couples had already paired off behind them. Look for your identifying ID. Number codes spoke to everything: We don’t even need names the advertisement promised. On the other side of the French doors a room held it’s breath: expectant, hesitant, and thrilled. Fuck ‘em all. “Here’s to being dumped by another fucked up excuse for on-line dating.”
His ersatz companion laughed. “Salude!” The dark haired, dark eyed, man tipped his glass toward Tony. “What’s the rule about midnight and New Years? You’re destined to spend the rest of the year repeating it?”
“God,” Tony ran his thick fingers through his dirty blond hair. Green eyes mirrored in a glass of amber liquid, he mused. “Don’t say that. I’m going to spend the rest of my year being dumped.” The other’s tumbler still waited expectant and Tony tapped it with his own. “What you drinking?”
“Glenfiddich.” The man laughed and knocked back a belt. “It’s the only scotch fit to drink.”
Tony laughed. “Damn straight!” Not many people understood that. For a time he stared out at the mountain. So strong and beautiful, capped with a crown of snow and backed by billowing clouds which held the moonlight to the ground. Why couldn’t he meet a girl who understood things like that? “All I wanted was a chance.” He sighed and swirled the last of the scotch in his glass. “Someone who liked old cars.”
“Me too.” The other man’s voice echoed wistful against the backdrop of revelry. “Someone who liked hiking in the Yukon as well as breakfast in bed.”
“Thick pancakes and then hiking in the glaciers.” Tony snorted, imagining heavy quilts and campfire coffee while preparing for a salmon fry off the deck of a cruise ship. The perfect mix of hedonistic luxury and outdoorsman-ship.
Dark eyes nodded. Damn, if he wasn’t a guy it would have been about perfect. Athletic, trim, black hair, large brown, almost almond eyes, and a slight olive cast to his skin all of it spoke to maybe Armenian decent. The man stood nearly eye to eye with Tony. All the girls he’d ever dated were shorter and that always bugged the pale, northern Italian descendant. A girl he could kiss without bending down… Tony had put that in his profile. At nearly six foot, it was a tall order. Now if this guy just liked Cuban cooking he would have been perfect, except for the lack of tits.
“I,” the man’s voice sounded so wistful and lonely, “was going to rent a snowmobile tomorrow. Go up into the peaks where things are quiet.”
Antonio sighed. “I reserved one yesterday… hope you know.” He held out his hand. “By the way, my name is Antonio.”
Shivering, the other man responded, “Nicholas.”
“Oh, that’s creepy.” Tony almost snorted his scotch.
“The gal I’ve been corresponding with is Nikki.”
Nick laughed. “Yeah, well me and Toni have had some great sex chats.”
Everything froze. Finally, Tony swallowed. “Sex with showers?”
“You,” Tony could barely breathe, “like having your ass licked?”
Nick looked into his empty glass. Chants of Ten, Nine, Eight echoed. Finally scared and large brown eyes slid up to stare deep into green. “128A54225ARRG?” When Tony’s face went slack, Nick swallowed and stepped in. “You’re Toni95? Oh Fuck!”
Almost a year of hopes and dreams and desires swirled around Antonio. All of it led to one person, one person he’d joked with. One person who always knew what to say. One person who teased and taunted, but always came through… Nikki22. “Shut up!” Antonio whispered as three sounded. “Kiss me now!”
“Why?” Nick’s face was only inches from his own. Warmth and longing seeped off his skin.
“Midnight!” Tony panted. “Fate!”
Two hitching breaths and Nick’s lip trembled. Then, to the sounding of Auld Lang Syne Nick’s mouth met his. Warm, demanding but giving and self assured… all the things Tony had asked for flowed from the kiss. Screams of horns blared. Noisemakers popped. People screamed with the turning of the ages. Tony didn’t give a shit. New Years drown sweet in the pounding of another man’s pulse.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
I hope everyone had a great holiday, and I wish you all the best in 2008!
Monday, December 24, 2007
Merry Christmas everyone!!!
As my present to everyone, I've got a little Christmas story I wrote a while back that I thought I'd post. I hope everyone stays safe and have a great Christmas holiday.
Warning - This work of fiction contains graphic scenes between two men (duh) and is for those 18 years and older.
PS...please forgive any errors. This was not edited.
by Marty Rayne
Matt smiled as he watched Brad, sitting on the floor in front of the bare tree, untangling the ball of lights that sat in his lap. His face was in a scowl; intense concentration lit his face as he fought with the tangled wires.
“That is the most pathetic tree I’ve ever seen.” Rene said as she crossed the room and sat next to Matt.
Brad looked up at her. “What do you expect? It’s Christmas Eve. There wasn’t much left.”
“Well, if you would have gotten it a week ago like I told you to do, then you could have found a nicer one.”
“I think it will be fine Rene.” Matt interrupted them before an argument started. He was the moderator of this trio, always finding ways to keep the peace between them all.
Rene huffed before standing. “Well, you have less than an hour to get to the pageant stage. I need a lot of things moved and you two said that you would help.”
“Don’t worry Rene. We will be there.” Matt said calmly, but he could see that Brad’s scowl grew deeper.
When the door closed behind Rene, Brad turned to Matt. “I don’t see why she has to drag us into all of this Christmas stuff. She knows how much of a Scrooge I am.”
Matt got up from the couch and kneeled in front of Brad. “She just wants to spread the joy of Christmas to as many people as she can.”
“Okay, I get that, but every year I am forced to play subservient to the Christmas Nazi whether I want to or not.”
“Brad,” Matt sighed. He didn’t want to get into this again. Not this year. He looked down at the knot of wires “Why don’t you just use your powers to untangle that mess?”
Brad frowned at Matt. “I’d end up blowing every light there is, then we’d have no lights at all.” He shook his head. “You know my concentration isn’t as focused as you and Rene’s.”
Matt reached over, closed his eyes, and waved his hand over the bundle. The wires untangled. Brad huffed as he looked down at the lights that lay on his lap.
“I hate it when you do that.”
“It just takes attention,” Matt encouraged. Brad had always had trouble with keeping his emotions in check. On the outside, everyone saw a tough, scowling orphan from the wrong side of the tracks, but Matt knew what was inside of Brad. He had a swirl of emotions that built and stayed trapped inside, only coming out in bursts of explosions when he tried using his gifts.
Matt leaned over and lightly kissed Brad’s lips. Brad opened willingly for Matt and allowed the kiss to deepen. Their tongues tangled together, like the strands of lights, their energies melding together. Matt’ hands went to Brad’s head, keeping him close until he was near breathless. He pulled away and looked at the Brad’s desire filled face. Gone was the glower that was there just a moment before. Matt smiled, always liking when Brad didn’t carry a grimace.
“Take off my shirt, Brad.” Matt’s voice sounded husky and deeper than usual as his own want built.
Brad reached out for Matt’s buttons, but Matt took hold of his hands. “No. Use your powers.”
“Matt…” Brad started.
He shook his head and interrupted Brad’s protests. “With your Goddess given abilities or you get no more.”
Brad sighed knowing that what Matt wanted, Matt got. He turned his attention to the small buttons that were lined up on Matt’s burgundy shirt. He blocked out all sound and sight and concentrated on the top button. Slowly, it began to move, shifting its way out of the buttonhole.
Brad was feeling good about himself, as the button was almost free of the hole. That was, until he felt Matt grab the front of his jeans. This caused Brad to jump, his cock, hardening even more and his concentration fell. In that instant, all of Matt’s buttons flew across the room, as his shirt was jerked open by some unseen force.
“Fuck,” Brad cursed, seeing how he’d destroyed Matt’s shirt.
Matt didn’t seem to mind as he pulled Brad in for a kiss. It was filled with such a passionate desire that Brad leaned into Matt and groaned, his body feeling the heat of his lust for Matt. His hands went to the bared chest; his fingers lightly caressed the silky skin. Brad could feel the goose bumps that popped up and smiled inwardly. His powers may be hard to control, but he knew that he could make Matt putty in his hands within moments. Brad let a hand graze one of Matt’s stiff nipples causing him to gasp in Brad’s mouth.
The phone in Matt’s phone rang pulling them out of their fervor of lust. Matt reluctantly pulled away and answered the phone.
“Get your asses moving.” Rene’s voice came loudly through the earpiece. She knew that they would probably get sidetracked.
“We’re going,” Matt said, slightly annoyed then hung up the phone. He looked to Brad.
Matt nodded, but pulled Brad in for a quick kiss. “I have a deal for you. Let’s just say that it’s inspiration.”
Brad looked at Matt wearily.
Matt got up, pulling the torn shirt from his body. He walked into Brad’s bedroom, returning only a moment later pulling one of Brad’s t-shirts over his head. He looked to Brad who had stood and waited for Matt to finish.
“When you can control your powers, I’ll reward you. That way, you can practice and we can still have fun.”
“I don’t know Matt.” Brad scratched at his eyebrow. He did that when he was nervous. Matt just smiled at his friend and lover as he headed out the door, Brad following.
Rene worked Brad and Matt like slaves. She had them moving props, parts of the stage and what ever else she could think of until it was set to her perfection. They stood in front of the stage looking on. Rene sighed. Matt and Brad tensed, feeling tired, but ready to go and change something for her.
“Perfect,” Rene sighed.
Brad took a step then stopped. “What?” He looked at Rene.
“I said it’s perfect. Thanks guys.” She turned and beamed a thankful smile at them. She gave each a big hug and kiss on the lips. “You guys are the greatest.”
“You’re welcome.” Matt gave her a rare smile..
“I’ve got to go and meet with Mr. Cramer about the music so I’ll see you guys later.” Rene waved to the two guys as she rushed off in the direction of the parking lot where some adults were gathering before their practice.
“Well, I’m pooped. Let’s go back to my place. I’m in need of a shower.” Brad said walking toward the truck.
Matt shook his head and smiled. He took Brad’s hand and pulled him toward the stage. “I think you need some more practice first.” Matt led him around the stage to the little house that was off to the side. That was where some of the decorations were stored and decorated as a candy house for the Christmas theme around the park. They entered it with Matt closing the door behind them. Using a quick spell, he made sure that they would not be disturbed.
Matt went to Brad and kissed him. His lips were soft and barely brushed over Brad’s. It was a teasing kiss, one that held much promise Brad knew. Matt pulled Brad’s shirt over his head and threw it to the floor. Next, he unbuttoned Brad’s pants and let them fall to his ankles. With a wave of his hand Brad’s boxers were gone.
“Hey! Those were my favorite,” Brad pouted.
“I’ll buy you another pair.” Matt took hold of Brad’s cock. He slowly pumped it, making it stiff. Brad groaned, still feeling the frustration of not being able to finish their earlier session.
Matt let go of him and pulled a bright red ribbon from his jean pocket. Brad raised a brow to the object, but Matt ignored him. He bent and wrapped the silky material around Brad’s erect length. He tied it into a nice bow before standing up. Brad looked down at his newly decorated body part.
“Ummm, Matt? What’s up with that?”
“It’s your next lesson. I want you to untie it.”
Brad looked at Matt confused and reached with his hands to untie the ribbon. Matt caught them and held them in his.
“No. Use your powers.”
“Mathew. Uh, do you realize what you are asking? That is precious cargo down there and you want my explosive abilities near it? Are you fucking nuts?”
Matt pressed his body against Brad’s nude one. “I’m dying to fuck you, Brad.” His voice filled with yearning. “You untie the ribbon with your powers, I’ll reward you by fucking you until you scream my name.”
Brad’s breath caught at Matt’s words. His wrapped cock twitched at his tone. Yes, he wanted Matt to fuck him. He wanted to feel Matt’s cock in him, pumping in and out. When he released his breath, it picked a rapid pace.
“That’s what you have been wanting isn’t it Brad? For me to slide my thick cock deep into your body.”
Brad could not speak so he just nodded. “Good.” Matt smiled. “Now show me what you can do.”
Brad closed his eyes and took several deep breaths trying to control the hunger that surged through his body. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked down at his bound cock. He blanked out his mind, not thinking about what might happen if he could not keep his focus. He knew that Matt was right there, ready to heal him if he was to goof. Brad felt his power build in his gut as warmth spread to his limbs. Using intense concentration, Brad passed his hand over his hard length and watched amazed as the ribbon untied and fell to the floor. He looked up to Matt who greeted him with a large smile.
“See. I knew that you could do it. Now, for your reward.”
Matt raised his hand toward Brad. Brad felt a force turn him around and press his to the wall of the small building. He was held there by an invisible hand, unable to move from the coolness that seeped in. He turned his head and found that Matt had removed his shirt and was in the process of taking off his pants. He approached Brad and pressed his warmth against Brad’s back.
“You are stronger than you think. You just need the right motivation,” Matt whispered seductively into his ear.
Matt shifted until his own dick was nestled between Brad’s cheeks. He reached down and pulled them apart before pushing into Brad. Brad groaned at the sudden invasion of his body.
“You are always so tight.” Matt moaned at the hot tightness surrounding him.
“Matt,” Brad whimpered needing more, but he was still pinned to the wall, unable to move his hips back.
Matt’s hand went to Brad’s hair and grabbed a handful in his fingers. He jerked Brad’s head back and kissed him roughly. Matt loved the feel of Brad’s body against his. Anytime they were near each, he had to pull in his control as his mind screamed to take him, no matter where they were. He released his lover and loosened the hold, allowing Brad to push his hips back into him.
“Yes,” Matt hissed, thrusting in and out of Brad.
Brad could do nothing more than move his hips with Matt’s rhythm and moan as pleasure filled him, rushing through every vein of his body until it ended at his hard cock pressed against the wall. With each of Matt’s thrusts, it pushed Brad’s body up and down the wall, letting the cool surface do the stroking that Brad desperately wanted to do.
Matt’s pumping quickened and he knew that his lover was close to coming. “Fuck, yeah.” Brad growled, heat building in his balls. Matt pumped harder still.
“Say it.” Matt panted, their sweat covered bodies rubbing against each other.
“Uuuuughgghhh…shhhitt…” Brad groaned. Finally he could take it no longer. “Yes! Fuck, Matt!!! Matt…..Yes!!!” Brad screamed as the warmth became a burning sensation as his cum squirted from his dick onto the wall.
“Brad,” Matt growled in his ear as he let his orgasm release.
They both fell to the floor, Matt’s hold on Brad gone. They lay there for several moments, breathing heavy, before they realize that voices outside the little building could be heard. It was singing. The adults had begun their practice and were just yards away. They were singing Let It Snow.
Brad chuckled. “That was really great.”
Matt nodded in agreement. “I’m hungry. Let’s go back to your place and finish the tree.”
The two got dressed and slid out of the building without anyone noticing them. They went back to Brad’s apartment where Brad took a shower while Matt cooked spaghetti for their dinner.
“Mmmm…smells good.” Brad said when he exited the bathroom with just a towel on. He sat at the bar across from Matt.
“It will be done in a few minutes.” Matt gave Brad a small smile.
Brad brought a small box from his lap and laid it on the countertop. “I was going to wait until tomorrow to give this to you but I decided to do it now, while we were alone.”
Matt looked surprised at Brad, then down at the gold box. It had a red ribbon on it, tied neatly on top. Matt smiled.
“Brad, you didn’t have to do this. I know how tight your money is.”
“I know, but I wanted to. You’ve been there for me through my life. You’ve always stood by me no matter what kind of an ass I was being. You are truly my soul mate, Matt. Now, with all the mushiness out of the way, open the damn thing.”
Matt watched as the ribbon slowly untied and fall away from the box. He chuckled as he picked up the box. He lifted the lid and found a gold ID bracelet lying on some cotton inside. Matt gently lifted it from the box and found that his name was engraved on it.
“Brad.” He was awed. He knew that this must have set him back financially.
“Turn it over.”
Matt flipped the bracelet and found that the back was engraved also. “To my life, my soul, my love.” Matt looked up at Brad, tears in his eyes.
“This is our fist Christmas officially together. I didn’t want it to go without something to remember it by.” .
“Thank you Brad.” Matt’s voice hitched, trying to hold back the tears. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Brad said as he leaned over and captured Matt’s lips.
Copyrighted 2007 - All rights belong to Marty Rayne
Sunday, December 23, 2007
I was thinking about the holiday-themed stories that are inevitably written at this time of year and I was wondering about them. I will read them, but tend not to purchase them (as a whole, but sometimes an individual story will catch my eye, such as Keira Andrews' Eight Nights) because it's often hard for me to go back during the year and re-read a holiday story during the summertime. That's purely a personal thing; I know there are hundreds of excellent Christmas/Kwanzaa/Yule/New Year stories published around this time and that thousands of readers get enjoyment from them. But is there anyone else who has trouble re-reading even a really good Christmas story in the spring? No? Okay, just me. :)
In any case, I still see slash potential at the holidays, even in music. Here's a little song I love to listen to at this time of year, because I can totally see these cowboys working the range together on Christmas Day and then going home to cuddle up by the fire. Give it a listen.
Jars of Clay -- Christmas for Cowboys
Saturday, December 22, 2007
I think some authors are that way too. What sounds good in theory takes a little getting used to. I'm currently collaborating with a friend. We've written together for ages, though mostly in worlds of our, or our other friend's, own making. I had her critique my novella For Love and Country. And when she did so, she said that m/m wasn't "her thing." That's cool. It's mine. I like it. And I appreciated her input, especially since she wasn't enamored of the genre.
And yet, we're now writing a story that starts off as m/m/f, but will probably end up being m/f/m because one man is bisexual, but in a relationship with the heroine, and the other man more of a closeted bi-sexual, whose first sexual experience in a long time is with the hero. And it kind of isn't by his choice. I mean, he does what he has to do, but he'd much rather be buried inside the heroine than the hero. In the story, it surprises them both how much they like it.
So where is that fine line... you can have a m/m sex scene (we have the heroine watching), but is it straight m/m because a woman is present? I proposed the idea of making her the creamy white filling in a hero-1/hero-2 sandwich so they're making love AROUND her. I've also proposed having her on the bottom with her current lover and then the new guy making love to the current lover. But then, with the addition of a bit of estrogen, it moves beyond being a truly m/m scene.
And to be honest, I'm really curious to see what she comes up with for that scene. Because I don't think I'm going to let her get off as easily as "Mary, you write this sex scene." LOL!!! (Yeah, I'm evil. It's fun!)
Readers have differing preferences between how many, or of what gender, they want in their sex scenes.I've had readers tell me that they won't read any m/m (And I kind of hope they change their mind because I have a lot of m/m coming out this next year. My muse is in a slashy mood, I guess.). I respect their choice, and I find it fascinating. So many books. So many letters and slashes...
It's all about where, and how, you draw the line in the sheets.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
I've got the perfect ending to it, too. I've got two things coming out before the end of this month--both from Torquere Press.
First up, Saturday morning sees the release of my Nice holiday Sip, "Don't Let Go". It's a short story of two best friends who finally realize there's much more than just friendship simmering beneath the surface.
Then I have Hearth & Home 3: Beginnings, coming out Dec. 29th. This is the final installment to my Hearth & Home Chaser series, starring Robbie Sexton and Seth Ellis, my beloved tattoo artist and his Texan cowboy. They deserve their happy ending, and they get it. :)
And now, for your reading pleasure, here's a little taste of "Don't Let Go"...
Heat washed over Dustin when the warmth of Jason’s breath met his skin. Dustin froze in mid-stir, the metal from the spatula warming as he held it over the cooking hamburger. Something soft brushed his neck and Dustin quickly realized it was Jason’s mouth, those fine lips moving over his flesh.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
Jason plucked the spatula from Dustin’s hand and cupped Dustin’s face, turning his head to meet a calm, confident blue gaze. “Something I should’ve done instead of letting you go out with that son of a bitch,” he said, seconds before his mouth covered Dustin’s in a deep, thorough kiss.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck... This was so not happening, not... Oh, dear God, he tastes so fucking good.
Not sure where the hell to put his hands, Dustin just stood there, arms limp at his sides as his best friend plundered his mouth with a determined, questing tongue. Holy Mother of God, he was so hard, it hurt.
“You can touch, you know,” Jason muttered.
“Huh?” Dustin blinked, then moaned as Jason’s mouth moved down over his neck. Wha...?
“Touch. Me.” Jason nipped Dustin’s throat, setting off a lightning spark straight to his crotch.
“Jason.” Dustin finally managed to get his brain working again and caught Jason’s head in his hands. “What are we doing? I don’t want to fuck up our friendship, man.” No matter how bad I fucking want you.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
These e-books will be available until the day after Christmas (12/26). After that, This Christmas can be found on my site under the "Free Fiction" section, and A Little Something for Santa is in my collection, Shorts.
Enjoy ... and happy holidays!
Monday, December 17, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
"Huh?" says I. "What's wrong with it."
her: "That clown is scary."
me (nervously, because all clowns are pretty much Pennywise to me): "Clown? What clown?"
She points. I look. Sure enough, there's a clown just inside the toy store window in the wrapping paper scene. What's more, all the little children clustered outside seem to be gazing in hypnotized rapture at this red-and-white-painted evil.
"Funny," says me. "I never noticed that before."
her: "Oh my God, it's hovering!"
I look again. And hell's donkeys if the damn thing isn't indeed hovering in mid-air.
me: "Oh my God, you're right! It's hovering! And smiling!"
her, wringing her hands: "Why's it hovering and smiling???"
me: "Maybe it's a vampire clown."
her: "Oooooh, nooooooo!"
me: "And it has all the kids enthralled!"
her: "Oh my God, there's a vampire clown on the wrapping paper!"
me: "A levitating vampire clown."
both of us together: "OF DOOM!"
Because everything's funnier with a little doom *g*
I'm thinking there HAS to be a manlove story in there someplace O_O
**creepy-hot visions of gorgeous gay vampires dressed up as clowns**
Scary Christmas, everyone!!!
First post! I've read back over the past few weeks here at Slash and Burn and I must say, I'm in very fine company with all of these extremely talented authors. Much thanks to Keira Andrews for the heads up about the open spot. “You a bull rider?” Teagan asked, even though he already knew the answer to that.
My new release, Tabula Rasa, is available now at Torquere Press. This novel was a change of pace for me, since I'm used to writing about firemen. Rodeo boys are a far cry from firemen, but I loved doing the research and examining the dynamics of team ropers and their partners. I'm very proud of this book and how it turned out, so allow me to post a little snip...
“You a bull rider?” Teagan asked, even though he already knew the answer to that.
A head shake was the only response Cash gave him.
Teagan sighed. There were two types of cowboys: the ones who hung around in packs and gossiped like chickens in the henhouse, and the ones who prided themselves on being the exact opposite. The strong, silent type, to coin a phrase. The fact that Teagan himself didn’t actually fit into either of those categories was not lost on him, but he sort of liked it that way. He got information when he needed it and was left alone when he didn’t.
He tried again, tentatively. “Haven’t seen you in Pine Bluffs before.” Lame, but where the hell was he really supposed to be going with this? “I’m Teagan.”
Cash did turn to look at him then. “I know who you are,” he responded, turquoise eyes flashing from under the brim of his battered black Stetson. “You’re Alex Rafferty’s kid.”
Teagan’s gaze landed first on Cash’s cut lip and then on his bruised cheek. Yep, the guy had taken a punch or two. “Ain’t been a kid for nearly twenty years. But yeah.”
Cash shrugged and turned away from him again. The alfalfa straw in his mouth moved slightly as he spoke. “If you’re talking to me, then you know who I am. Might as well tell me what you want.”
A flash of unexpected shame told Teagan that he wasn’t going to be able to bluff his way out of it. Clearly the man was used to being ignored, so much so that he was suspicious of anyone who tried to make a friendly overture. “I want to know what kind of rodeo you ride, if it ain’t bulls.”
“Rope steer,” was the curt answer.
“Ever been a team roper?”
“Not much of a team player. That’s what I been told.”
“That isn’t really what I asked you.” Teagan pressed his luck a little bit. He had nothing to lose, at this point. Cash would either say yes or tell him to fuck right off. Desperation was Teagan’s motivator, especially since now the Pine Bluffs rodeo was twelve days away. And then it was onto
“Yup,” Cash finally said, eyes on the grazing bulls. “Long time ago.”
“Head or heel?” Teagan asked him.
“Both, when necessary. Was better at heading. S’why I rope steer nowadays.”
Well, that was more information than Cash had offered in the past five minutes. Teagan’s confidence was bolstered. “Can I buy you a beer?”
And there you have Teagan and Cash, two hot-headed boys who need to find more common ground other than the dirt of the rodeo ring. You can watch the trailer for it at my site, then head on over to Torquere Press to check it out.
Friday, December 14, 2007
I've just turned in a free Encounter story to Changeling Press. You can read it with the next issue of the Cheeky Changeling, their newsletter. It's about a man who restores broken GI Joes. Well, a particular action figure comes to life and thanks him in a very unique way. This idea has led to a series, and I'm pleased to announce that I've signed contracts for them. I'm busy writing, so won't say too much, except that I am thrilled with this unique idea and a chance to let my imagination "play."
As I eagerly await a release date for Cowboy Up, I am working on this new series. And I hope, that you will enjoy them as much as I.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Much thanks to Reb, Syd, CB, Nicole and SamC who gave me inspiration even if I couldn’t quite work in the snowmobile, stalker and nutcracker scenes.
“What are you doing?” An irritated, but cultured voice came from behind Les. Backing it, the boisterous cheer of a holiday party cut the night. Part Christmas, part end of exams, and part wrap party for the local university’s production of A Christmas Carol throbbed full swing. Over indulgence hounded Les. Too much drinking with people he really didn’t care for. He needed the money, the college needed a sound tech… it was decent enough for a student job. And at least he didn’t have to pretend to be straight around theater geeks.
“Writing my name in the snow.” Les growled, glancing over his shoulder while tying not to get anything on his combat boots. Oh, Dear God, the questioner was wearing a Santa hat pushed back on his head. Blond curls poked out underneath. That was almost more Christmas cheer then Les could stomach.
Chad Mitchell stood staring at Les while he had his dick in his hand taking a piss. Dockers, button-down green, plaid shirt over a white t-shirt set off indignant blue eyes. “You could have used the bathroom inside.” Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose. His old style hunter’s coat couldn’t keep the frost from tinting sharp cheeks. Shit, Les cursed under his breath, accosted by an LL Bean catalog while taking a leak.
“Right.” Les tucked himself away and yanked up the fly of his black jeans. That done, he shoved his hands in the pockets for warmth and shouldered deeper into his army surplus Patton style jacket. “And stand in line with all those giggling girly things that can’t hold their beer? Much easier this way.”
For all of the bad taste, Les’ brain did a little stop-start routine when he turned full on. The first full-dress rehearsal, Les memorized each line and angle to Chad’s body. All and nothing was left to the imagination in the grey velvet and linen the costumers pulled together. Every time he saw Chad drift out to stage center in those tight Dickenson Era pants and cutaway coat, he had the same reaction. Chad was tall and not too bulky under layers of winter clothes. The line costume indicated a nice butt and sculpted body lurked underneath. In the darkness of the sound booth, Les wanked himself off while just watching Chad move. Thank God there weren’t many cues during Chad’s scenes.
Tight and proud, full lips crawled into a near sneer. “You just have to be that way, huh. All angsty and self righteous?” The blond actor tucked his own hands under his armpits.
It was Goddamn freezing out behind the house. Snow flurries fluttered down. One landed on the ring in Les’ nose and turned it to ice. He sneezed. Back, over a wool cloaked shoulder, fairy lights danced through an over wrought Christmas tree framed Currier and Ives style in the window. Fuck, Chad looked like a post card. Put a stamp on Chad and mail it to Les’ bedroom. Muted strains of the little drummer boy drifted around them.
“Always.” Les agreed. Cold seeped through waffle soles and Les hopped from one foot to the other trying to keep feeling in his toes. Blondie glared. “You theater jerks, so pompous. Man you guys suck.” He laughed. “Scrooge… repent, turn back before it’s too late.” Throwing as much over emphasis as he could into the line, Les teased. He draped his right arm before his eyes and threw his head back, “Don’t end up like me.”
Indignant, Chad’s lips went thin. “That’s not my line.”
Les waived it off. “Shit, you all take this college theater shit way to serious. Les,” he drew out his own name with a starlet’s falsetto, “my mic’s not right. How am ever going to emote correctly with this crappy sound system.”
Chad snorted. “I never said anything like that.”
“No.” It was Les’ turn to glare. “You didn’t even talk to me when I fitted you out for you wireless.”
Glancing off towards the house, Chad seemed embarrassed. “You didn’t seem like you wanted to talk with me during production.”
Les’ eyebrows crawled up. Running his tongue along the edge of his teeth, the little bar through the muscle clicked against enamel. “Why would you want to talk to someone like me when you’re surrounded by all those so cool people? What would all your artsy buddies think? Oh, look at Chad, he’s talking with the techie nerd.”
“Maybe ‘cause under all that black and attitude you’re kinda cute.” The look went from embarrassed to sly. “Even if you’re a gothed out computer geek with a good knowledge of sound systems.”
“Me?” Cute and Les rarely occurred in the same sentence.
“Yeah.” Chad looked back toward the house. A mix of desire and distasted flew across his face. Then he turned back to Les. “Wanna blow and grab some hot chocolate?”
“I don’t think they have any hot chocolate there.” Les shook a dusting of snow off his head. Crystals caught the light in Chad’s blue eyes.
“Neither do I.” Chad smiled. “But I know I have some at my place.”
Les laughed. Then he stepped in to Chad’s personal space. Suddenly all hard and tight and tense the other man almost drew away. Spicy cologne rose from his collar, wrapping Les’ senses in thoughts of mulled cider and fireplaces.
In his mind, he could see firelight tracing the edges of those sharp cheeks. Full lips responded to every kiss as Chad sighed and shuddered. So silken-hard and so demanding, Chad’s prick swelled in his hand. Both of them locked together as Les rammed into the tight, hot confines of Chad’s body. Frenzied, Chad rode him. Sweat sparkled across their skin… little jewels caught in the flames. They moaned. They called each other’s names. They drove each other until everything faded to two bodies trembling and shaking against each other.
Another laugh slipped past Les’ lips as he nipped Chad’s ear. “No you don’t, I drank it this morning.”
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
I guess I could save the cover to the laptop, but I'm really paranoid. Plus the cover is het so I feel kinda strange about posting it here anyway. Unfortunately I haven't read all the other stories, so I'm not sure how many others are MM besides my "Man Ho." Okay, I'm really starting to sound pathetic now, so to make up for it I'll run a contest... Comment here about whether you've been naughty or nice and I'll pick a winner from the bunch. You don't even have to say why you've been one or the other ;) Post your entry here before midnight EST December 25th and I'll announce the winner in my next day's post, the 26th. Hopefully Santa will bring me a computer (or a repair) by then. I've defintely been nice... I think.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Eight Nights is a coming-of-age story about two university students, and it takes place at Hanukkah. I really loved writing this, and I've got a lot of other stories about Lucas and Nate kicking around in my noggin. So hopefully this will be a big success and I'll be able to play with them some more. *g*
What better way to celebrate the holidays than with some hot gay sex? No better way, I say!
Monday, December 10, 2007
The first book to my Dragon Riders Series, Bonded Hearts, was released last week at Loose-Id :D
This is a M/M/F book set in the world of Ketall, a world where dragons and humans live together. Each book of the series will center around a different dragon and their bondmate(s).
Detective Nick Montgomery finally catches up to the serial killer plaguing Miami, however, he doesn't count on being caught up in the killer's own spell and transported to Ketall. An alternate world of a primitive nature and is home of dragons and magic.
One particular female is Jax, a red-eyed dragon who doesn't exactly like him. Or the idea of having to share her Rider, Kel, with anyone. She’s young, possessive, and spoiled. At least that’s what Kel tells her. So why is she attracted to this off-worlder who interrupts their life? Why does he set her blood boiling with desire every time they are near? And why can’t she kill him to rid her of the annoyance?
Kel is drawn to the stranger he saves from death. More so when he realizes that Nick is also fated to bond with his dragon, Jax. Never has a dragon had two bondmates at one time. But an evil sorcerer and his witch complicates things by trying to send Nick back to his own world. To do so would mean killing both Jax and Kel.
Can the three overcome all obstacles to save themselves and Ketall?
Awareness came slowly to Nick. The floor beneath him rocked leisurely, almost lulling him back into the abyss of unconsciousness, until he was jostled none too gently. The movement slammed the air from his lungs. Just when he caught his breath, the ground jumped from beneath him again.
Nick groaned with pain and forced his eyes open. He tried to lift to his hands and knees, keeping his balance with the sway, but his right leg refused to hold his weight. He tumbled back down and his right arm screamed in protest as he landed hard on it.
“Fuck,” he spat.
The rattle of chains drew Nick’s attention to his surroundings. His eyes finally focused on the wood floor. The sun heated his skin, the sound of birds chirping reached his ears, and a horse neighing let him know he was outside.
His thoughts remained foggy. What was the last thing he remembered?
Chasing a killer. Amos Bronson. And blood. Lots of blood everywhere. There was a light, its brightness and heat burning him, followed by cool darkness. What had happened? How had he gotten outside? And hadn’t it been nighttime?
“He’s awake.” A sharp voice dragged Nick from his cloudy memories.
There were six sets of eyes staring at him. Men of varying ages. Unkempt, streaked with dirt, they were clad only in pants that tied at the waist. The only other items they wore were thick manacles on their wrists from which dangled chains that were locked to the floor.
Prisoners? What the hell was he doing with prisoners? But these men weren’t wearing the normal inmate attire.
“Where the…?” Nick attempted to sit up again, this time being more careful of his leg and arm.
He was in some sort of crude cage. The top and bottom were made of thick wood; the bars surrounding them were solid black iron. The swaying and jostling was the result of the cage being pulled behind a single horse. The creaking wheels kicked up dust from the dirt road.Like the others, thick iron manacles chafed his own wrists, locking him to the floor. Even if he wasn’t chained, there would be no way a man of average height could stand in this cage. Even at his five feet eleven inches, Nick wouldn’t be able to kneel without having to slump down.
“Who are you? Where am I?” He addressed the group at large, his throat dry and scratchy. He shivered and swiped at the sweat dripping down his face. “How did I get here?”
“Found you on the side of the road. The Master thought he’d get some coin for you before you died,” a red-haired man said with a sneer.
Nick shook his head. The Master? Coin before he died? For that matter, what was with the cage? This dirt road? Where the hell was he? Certainly not in Miami. Instead of tall buildings, busy streets, and palm trees, he beheld thick clumps of trees along one side of the road and open fields on the other.
Definitely not Miami.
He closed his eyes. Nothing made sense. Nick ignored the sharp pain in his leg and the way the fabric of his jeans stuck to the wound.
“I don’t --” His words were clipped by the pop of a whip. The six other men flinched and cowered as much as their chains would allow.“No talking, slaves.” A harsh, deep voice boomed from Nick’s left. Turning, he was met with near black eyes. They belonged to a large man dressed like a Ren Faire refugee. His pants were dark brown and resembled leather. His shirt, probably originally white, and now coated with sweat and the dirt from the road, was tight around his bulk. He had several leather bands around his wrists and leather boots encased his feet. The most menacing part of him was the long bullwhip he held in his hand.
Now, back to work finishing my next M/M story I'm hoping to submit by the end of this month :D
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Friday, December 7, 2007
Readers would love it, right? What could be better than to revisit our our guys and see them being with one another as well as someone they both care for?
I've been doing in informal poll on our e-mail loop asking for feedback on the idea and so far the opinion is overwhelmingly against a three-some.
I was surprised, but not in a bad way.
Koji needs to give us a pat on the back (or front ~_^) for making his triumph over a seemingly unrequited love so complete that no one wants us to screw with his and Jun's HEA--or have them screw around with anyone else even if they'll always have close ties via the kids.
I imagine Anne and I won't be finishing the grande menage a trois any time soon and will keep our little story in our heads but for those mildly interested here's how it would have started....
* * * *
"What the hell are you doing?" Jun kicked the apartment door closed behind him, then stepped out of his shoes in the entry way before stepping on the carpet. He stopped at the entrance to the living room and eyed Koji over the top of the grocery bags in his arms.
"I'm...setting...a new world record," Koji grinned, his words coming out half-slurred. He was standing--on his hands--his feet resting against the wall while the tips of his hair brushed the carpet. With all the blood rushing to his head, his face was practically the same shade of strawberry as his dyed hair.
"Uncle Koji's been there forever, otousan," Kaoru sat crossed legged on the floor next to Koji with a plate of musubi on his lap. The five-year-old boy picked up an egg timer and waved it Jun. "It's gone ping once already!"
The timer only counted thirty minutes at a time, thank God. Jun rolled his eyes. "Koj, get down. Your arms are starting to shake."
"The hell they are," Koji panted. "I'm fine...a little dizzy...but fine."
"Uncle Koji can do it," Kaoru set the timer back on the floor and popped another one of the seaweed-wrapped dumplings in his mouth.
"He can do it," Yuuka chirped up. Jun turned to his daughter who was lying face down on the couch a few feet away from Koji and Kaoru, coloring in one of her coloring books while a Hamtaro re-run played on the TV.
"You're not even watching," Jun raised an eyebrow at the three-year-old.
She looked up from her book long enough to pout at Jun. "It's boring."
"Thanks a lot, Yuuka," Koji sputtered.
Jun sighed. "I think I should've hired a baby-sitter to look after all three of you before leaving." He turned and went to the attached kitchen area. Behind him, there was a loud thud and the apartment floor trembled.
Kaoru started clapping, followed by Koji's muffled voice. "Ow."
"I think you need to go on a diet, Koj. You shook the whole damn floor when you fell," Jun said when his best friend and lover entered the kitchen, rubbing the top of his head.
"Ha. Ha." Koji reached up to the highest cabinet and took out the bottle of Noshin. After taking the over the counter caplets for his headache Koji said,
"So, Rumiko is coming to pick up the kids tomorrow?"
Jun nodded. "I'll miss having them here."
Koji smiled and drubbed Jun's shoulder. "Me, too."
"Miiiinnnneeee!" Yuuka wailed. "Gimme!"
"Stop kicking me!"
With a muffled groan Jun rushed out to deal with his children.
Koji grinned. "Then again, after a month of this a return to quiet will be nice."
Jun darted to the couch where Kaoru and Yuuka were in a tangled mess of
flailing limbs. "Hey, stop that you two." He dropped down on the empty spot next to them and pulled the little boy off his sister.
"She started it!" Kaoru whined. He clutched the coloring book to his chest "She doesn't share."
"He was mashing me!" Yuuka burst into tears. She climbed into Jun's lap and started sobbing her heart out.
Jun sighed. "Kaoru..."
"She always gets her way!" Kaoru tossed the coloring book to the floor and
started bawling. With all the commotion, Koji made the mistake of stepping out of the kitchen.
"Is everything okay?"
Kaoru ran over and attached himself to Koji's leg. "Uncle Koji, it's not fair!"
"I think it's nap time for them," Jun said dryly.
"No nap!" Kaoru protested his little chin jutting out the way his father's did when he was angry.
"No nap!" little Yuuka mimicked.
Jun looked positively pained and Koji tried not to laugh. He reached down and hoisted Kaoru onto his shoulders. "If you two get some rest I'll take you to the park after dinner and to get some ice cream."
"Only babies take naps," Kaoru protested again, tugging on Koji's hair.
"Babies nap!" Yuuka agreed, wanting to pull her father's hair in the same way but obviously thinking better of it when he gave her a stern look.
Koji reached up and took hold of Kaoru's hands. "How about if you two listen to a new song I wrote? "
"Then park and ice cream?" Kaoru asked.
Jun shook his head no but Koji winked at him. "Sure."
Koji swung Kaoru down and sat him on the sofa next to Jun and Yuuka then got his acoustic guitar from its stand and took a seat on a leather ottoman. The song he played wasn't new and it wasn't his composition but before it was finished it worked its magic and both children were snoring softly and resting against their father.
Setting down the guitar Koji picked up Kaoru and Jun took Yuuka and they placed both children on the wide low bed in the guestroom. Jun switched on the baby monitor then closed the door as he and Koji exited.
They went to their room across the hall and Jun fell back onto the bed. "I don't know how you did it but I'm glad you did."
Koji shut the door then lay next to Jun, chuckling when Jun rolled over and drew him into a deep searing kiss. "I thought you were tired," Koji said, still breathless and becoming more so as Jun's calloused fingers snaked beneath the hem of his t-shirt to skim his sensitive nipples.
Jun pressed his growing erection against Koji's hip. "I have a little life left in me yet."
"Ooh." Koji let out a puff of air. "That feels like more than a little."
Jun laughed. "Didn't you believe me when I said it?"
"I dunno, I had my suspicions," Koji licked his lips and sat up. "You've been
going non-stop with the kids this entire month. It's been what--" He held up his
hand and counted off four fingers. "God, that long since you've had any 'life in you'."
"Hey, Koj!" Jun smirked. "Helping Kaoru learn how to count has paid off for you, too."
"Ha. Ha." Koji smoothed his hands over the front of Jun's black t-shirt. "Now
back to what I was saying...I think I need some hard evidence before I believe you." He traced a finger along the fly on Jun's dark blue jeans.
Smirking Jun slid down his zipper and pulled his throbbing dick free of his silk boxers. "That evidence hard enough for you?"
"Almost," Koji purred kneeling and bending forward to tease Jun's length with
the tip of his tongue. He loved the way Jun weaved his fingers through his hair and tugged until his scalp tingled. He took Jun's cock into his mouth and simply held it there until Jun groaned and pushed his hips forward.
"Don't tease me…"
Koji pulled away and looked into Jun's gorgeous dark eyes. "Never," he said softly before capturing Jun's lips with his own.
They shed their clothing in minutes and were a tangle of arm and legs, their bodies heating, perspiring as they kissed and caressed, rubbing against one another until they couldn't wait any longer. Jun grabbed the tube of strawberry scented lubricant from the nightstand drawer and coated his fingers then handed the lube to Koji before shifting to lay with his head near the foot of the bed.
Jun took Koji's cock into his mouth, slipped his hand between his lover's thighs to stroked and probe his tight opening, groaning when Koji did the same to him and they fell into a natural steady rhythm, their mouths sucking, slick ingers gently fucking, pressing and prodding the sensitive glands within.
They came hard and long, almost simultaneously, trembling with untold pleasure, sucking all of the thick salty come like men dying of thirst and not wanting to waste a drop.
Koji let out a low moan and dropped on to his elbows, resting his head on the inside of Jun's thigh. He nuzzled his lover's wet dick, kissing the base of the semi-hard erection. "I've missed your cock," he sighed. "The way it tastes, the way it feels."
Jun continued to work his lips along Koji's sex. He murmured in agreement,
squeezing Koji's ass with one hand and pressing two fingers back into the stretched opening with the other.
Arching up with a groan of pleasure, Koji pushed back against the touch. "Oh yeah...I've really missed that, too."
"You poor deprived man," Jun said, his voice husky. His cock hardened again and pushed upwards. "How can I make it up to you?"
"This is a good start," Koji stroked the rigid, pulsing length with his tongue.
"Now, fucking me hard would be even better."
Obliging, Jun shifted to lay atop Koji.
Little voices echoed in the distance.
"Shit," Jun said, as he stared at the baby monitor receiver, his cock poised at
Koji's waiting entrance.
"They'll doze back off. They ran around the apartment all day," Koji whispered, raising his lean hips, trying to draw Jun in.
"Yeah," Jun said when the monitor grew quiet. He kissed Koji slid into his willing body with one quick thrust only to freeze when he heard his daughter shriek.
"Outousan!" The sound of small feet pounded through the monitor and down the short hall.
"You locked the door?"
"Um," Koji stammered, Um…"
"Yuuka!" Kaoru called in the hall.
The little girl shrieked and rattled the door knob. The door began to open. Jun
pulled out of Koji and both men dropped off the bed and onto the floor grabbing for their pants.
"Where are mine?" Koji squeaked as he groped around the carpet on his hands and knees.
"I don't know!" Jun shoved himself into his pair, proving that, yes--under enough stress, a man can put on his pants both legs at a time.
"Shit!" Koji panicked.
"Otousan," Yuuka whined, stepping into the room and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with both hands.
Jun had no choice. He shoved Koji butt-first into the adjoining bathroom and shut the door.
"What's the matter, baby?" he panted, forcing a smile. "Don't you want to go back to sleep?"
"No," Yuuka toddled over and reached up for him to grab her. "Where's Uncle
Koji? I want him to sing again."
Koji grabbed a pair of rumpled jeans from the hamper in the bathroom and pulled them on. He splashed water on his face then tossed a towel around his shoulders and strode back to the bedroom in time to see Kaoru come in and pick up something from the floor.
"See through toothpaste!" He squeezed the tube and a glob fell on his finger and dripped onto the floor.
"No!" Jun called.
"Shit!" Koji dived over the bed and swept his arm around the little boy's
middle, throwing the towel over his hand to keep him from tasting the "toothpaste".
Jun collapsed onto the bed with Yuuka still in his arms.
"Koji say a bad word," she taunted as she squirmed free and slipped to the
floor. Koji wiped Kaoru's hand and let him go then wiped the lube from the
rug. He looked up as Yuuka went down on her hands and knees and reached under the bed. "Jun…"
Her little head poked up followed by a chubby hand. A chubby hand holding furry handcuffs. "Otousan, what's this?"
Jun's eyes bulged. He reached over and snatched the toy from her outstretched
hand. "That's, uh"
"That's mine!" Koji dashed over, laughing nervously. "I found it on the bus." He tried to take it from Jun who glared at him.
"I thought you put all this stuff away," Jun hissed through clenched teeth.
"It was in the last batch of presents Kim and Imai sent--I forgot about them."
Koji yanked away the cuffs.
Kaoru burst into a fit of giggles and jumped on the bed. "I wanna see!"
"No!" Jun tackled his son and pulled the boy down on to the sheets. "It's, uh, for ladies." He winced at his own lame excuse and buried his face in his hands.
"Then why does Uncle Koji have them, huh?" Kaoru giggled some more and squirmed in his father's arms. "What are they for?"
With a defeated look, Koji sat on the edge of the bed. "Well, Kaoru, when two
people love each other very much--"
Jun shoved him off the bed. "Koj, shut up!"
"Shit," Koji whined, rolling on to his knees.
"Uncle Koji said a bad word again," Yuuka crawled out from under the bed.
"I'm telling, I'm telling."
Jun buried his face in his hands. He groaned when the doorbell sounded. "Oh, god what now?"
"If it's Imai, I'm punching him," Koji said as he dragged himself to his feet and went to answer the door.
When Koji exclaimed, "I love you!" Jun bolted upright and rushed to the
livingroom, his children a few paces behind.
"Um, hi Koji," Jun's ex-wife Rumiko said as she struggled to break free of Koji's bear hug only to have her legs seized by her children.
"Uncle Koji has fuzzy bracelets and see- through toothpaste!" Kaoru exclaimed.
"And he said bad words!" Yuuka added.
"It's not important. You don't want to know," Jun assured her as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
Rumiko raised her eyebrows but laughed. "I won't ask then."
Thursday, December 6, 2007
We have snow and ice, so one kid's school was delayed and the other's was closed. So, between having my son home all day and cleaning, I managed, believe it or not, to get a little done.
I have a short-short story coming out as a Sizzle in the next All Romance Ebooks newletter. Just turned it in, and I'll let y'all know when it's live. It's a little musical number called "Descant". A bit different from my usual fare, but then again, maybe not. Music is close to my heart--especially classical, since I grew up on it.
Music plays a huge role in my work--from entire playlists for stories/characters, to general inspiration. At times, it even plays a role in my stories themselves. I'm currently working on a story for the Urban Phaze line in which one of the lead men is a French horn player. Seeing as how I played the horn in high school, and my mother still plays, it just seemed natural. The couple in the Urban Phaze story will also star in a later story for Phaze's Overture line.
A lot of authors don't like music or noise when they work. I am one of those who can't really work without it. :)
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Donnie Novak and Jack Sterling have known each other forever. Growing up together in a small Midwestern town, they were best friends. After high school, they both enlisted in the U.S. Navy at the same time, and somehow were assigned to the same company before being stationed on the U.S.S. Oklahoma together.
One night on leave, Donnie crosses an almost imperceptible line between friendship and something more. A stolen kiss threatens to ruin what Donnie and Jack have built up together all these years, and the next morning, he can't apologize enough.
But a squadron of Japanese bombers has their sights trained on Pearl Harbor's Battleship Row, and in the early hours of December 7, 1941, Donnie might not get a chance to set things right.
Inside the galley, the tables are already crowded with sailors in dungarees, their trays filled with eggs and potatoes and toast. I fake a half-hearted grin when Ralph waves, and Jack looks at me briefly before turning back to his food. No smile, just a naked wariness I put on his features, and I'm not hungry anymore. I just go through the motions of getting a tray and letting the cook fill it up. Jack hates me, I know it.
I sit down beside Ralph; across the table, Jack looks up at me and I have to choke back a sudden sob that burns my throat. "Hey," he says softly.
"Hey." I toy with the food on my tray, mashing the eggs with my fork and trying not to watch his jaw as he chews. "Chuck's still asleep, lazy ass."
Ralph laughs. "He's still passed out, you mean," he says, finishing off his own eggs. "You guys shouldn't drink so much. I ain't dragging you back to the ship again. Next time, I'll just leave you there. You can explain to the captain why you didn't make it back."
Jack smiles and even though it's not at me, my heart still rises to see the curve of his lips. "You wouldn't do that."
He's right -- Ralph isn't the type to leave his friends. He's threatened it before but always gets us back safe.
"Just watch me," Ralph warns. "You never know. Just you wait and see."
An uneasy silence falls around us, despite the talk at other tables. I manage to get a forkful of eggs into my mouth, but they taste soggy and bland and it's all I can do to swallow them down. I want to tell Jack I'm sorry again, I want to apologize until he has to forgive me, he just has to, but I don't want to say anything with Ralph right here because then he'll want to know what I'm sorry for, and I know Jack wouldn't want me to say. I'm sure he'd just rather forget, or pretend the whole thing never happened, and I wonder if he still tastes my lips on his. I want to ask him that, I want to know ...
Ralph's voice startles me. "What's wrong, Don?"
I grimace at my tray and don't know how I'm going to finish this food -- I don't feel like eating now. From across the table, Jack glances at me with a slight frown on his face, a worried look that silences me. Don't tell, that look says.
When I don't answer him, Ralph adds, "You look like you just lost your best friend. And you're on leave, boy. Cheer the hell up, already."
Well, Ralph, I did lose my best friend. For one little kiss, I threw everything we had away.
What the hell was I thinking? I wasn't that drunk, I wasn't.
© 2000-2007 J.M. Snyder
Monday, December 3, 2007
I type it out -- PENIS -- stare at it, and then hit delete.
Because there's a very thin line between erotic and clinical when it comes to sexual details in romance(or any other genre, I suspect). I remember a review from not too long ago, though which one eludes me at the moment, where the reviewer claimed I was too clinical with anatomical details and it haunts me like a shrieking specter.
Anyway, since I'm a little biased (yes, I actually like the word penis) I thought I would throw it out there and get all of your opinions on the matter.
Which do you prefer to see in fiction, a penis or a cock? Does a member by any other name still taste as sweet? (sorry, couldn't help myself)
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Here's what I'm thinking. Long-term winery manager meets hotshot newly-hired wine expert (I know there's a name for that, but it escapes me O_O). Hotshot is annoyingly good at his job, everyone loves him, and Mr. Dependable-but-Shy manager is a bit jealous though he doesn't want to admit it. Tension, arguments, and much manlove ensues. Yay!
Question for y'all: where do the sex scenes take place? That first, passionate, just-can't-help-ourselves quickie? The angry sex? The making-up sex? The I-love-you sex? Check out the Biltmore website and find me some awesome spots for man-nookie!
(the Biltmore estate title in the first paragraph is a link, btw, in case the links don't always show up for y'all like they don't always for me...)
Friday, November 30, 2007
Of course, my luck being my luck, I got hit with the head cold from hell and didn't feel like being awake much less reading. I finally start reading and do a quick check at the library website to see when the book was due back. It was due back that day. No one told me book others have requested are only allowed out for a week. So I read all of a dozen pages if that.
And to be honest I wasn't that thrilled with what I'd read.
Is it me? Am I weird for wanting to whack Jules Cassidy upside the head and tell him to stop sounding so damn "girly". I'm sorry, but to me seasoned FBI agents do not call people "sweetie" or say "Eww". It irks me.
I already know from a review that there are no great mansexy parts to look forward to so I really don't know if I want to get hold of this book again.
Does anyone else out there find Jules to be a rather unflattering stereotypical gay man? I've known gay men who on the girly side of the spectrum but I think Jules' profession is what bugs me most about how he speaks and thinks.
I think he should be harder around the edges, more "cop like" if you will.
Tell me, how do you see the character? Is he realistic to you or annoying?
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Mark sat on the steps of the apartment building surrounded by his stuff. One suitcase of clothes propped up his back. The collection of Justice League Comics double bagged and boxed in the two long white cardboard cartons rested next to him. It was all he’d managed to salvage before Charles tossed him out on his butt.
What a way to begin Spring Cleaning. About ten minutes too late he realized Charles really was serious about getting rid of all the old junk. As usual, he’d just ignored the jibes as he headed out to work that morning. Hell, Charles had on his rattiest clothes and a giant sized roll of garbage bags. That tended to mean big time house work. Like always, he’d laughed off Charles’ suggestion that he dump his old junk and grow up. He figured it meant he’d have to high tail it home and pull a few things out of the bin, shove it under the bed for awhile and bring it back slowly. Charles always hit that mood around this time of year. Clean up, clear out, move on.
Mark just hadn’t figured that Charles had meant Mark as well this time.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Mark looked up from studying his hands in his lap and found a green eyed pair of eyes right in front of his own. “Shit!” He started back, knocking over the suitcase. Jake, their upstairs neighbor rocked back: slipping and almost falling off where he knelt on the step. Oh crap, Mark didn’t want to explain to Jake or anyone why he was sitting on the stoop with his junk. “Sorry you startled me.” He swallowed. “Not much. Just doing a little housecleaning. Out with the old, in with the new.” He smiled.
With green eyes and soft brown hair, Jake was a nice looking guy. He’d moved into their building right after Mark and Charles started living together. Mark had ogled the new tenant every trip up and down the stairs the day he’d moved in. It had been Mark who’d made the effort to introduce himself, Charles couldn’t be bothered. And it was Mark who’d pumped Jake for what he did, where he came from and all that getting to know you type of thing.
Charles made fun of Jake behind his back because he was an animator on a kids’ network. It wasn’t a serious job according to Charles. Still, they’d been good neighbors and invited Jake, plus one, to the Christmas thing, and the New Years thing. Jake never brought a date and never stayed long. But he was always around when Mark needed something. He’d never failed to help out with a lift somewhere or help hauling up another bookcase for his treasures, or needed a running buddy in the mornings… well before Mark’s shift had changed.
Jake looked like he was about to say something when the sound of a window opening caused them both to look up. Charles’ voice flew out of the window. “God I hate this piece of shit!” The sound was followed by a poster in a black wood frame. That would be the one with the vintage snapshot showing the atomic bomb blowing up behind the 1950’s Vegas Skyline. It sailed through the air to land in the street. Two bounces carried it right into the path of a station wagon. With a screech of brakes and a crunch, the poster earned a place in the dumpster.
Righting the luggage, Jake parked himself next to Mark. “Housecleaning, huh?”
“Yeah,” Mark nodded as his razor scooter followed the path of the ill fated poster. “Cleaning the house of everything that reminds him of me.” The scooter only made it as far as the side walk. Wasn’t quite as aerodynamic as the first missile.
Jake set a grocery bag at his feet. “You guys never seemed right for each other.” Fishing out a packet of chips, he popped them open and offered the first grab to Mark.
A handful of Salt and Vinegar potato chips would at least make thing bearable for the moment. “What do you mean?” Over their heads sailed a tin of DVDs a Puss & Boots bobble head, his Sin-City coffee mug and the wall clock that told time backwards. Too bad, that clock had been given to him by his physics advisor when Mark had landed his job at JPL. Varying degrees of crashes sounded at impact.
“Well, he’s just kinda uptight. Everything was just so… so, you know?”
One by one, paperbacks flew. He crammed the chips in his mouth and mumbled. “No. I don’t know.” At least the books would be salvageable.
“So designer.” The voice out of Jake’s mouth sounded like one of the cartoon characters he drew. Mark knew ‘cause he recorded all the shows on TiVo and watched them when Charles wasn’t around. He sure as hell didn’t want to listen to any snarky comments while he enjoyed laughing his ass off. Jake added in a woman’s over-earnest falsetto, “There is a motif… we will not deviate from the motif.”
Mark snorted down a laugh. “Okay.”
“It all coordinates.” While doing a tradeshow model presentation dance with his hands he teased more. “It is sold as a set so that it all matches.” Then Jake shoved a chip in his mouth. “Blech.”
“Yeah, he’s a little like that.”
“A little?” Jake almost choked. “That’s like saying Jerry Fallwell has some gender issues.” Finally able to breath again he managed another question. “I don’t know what the hell you saw in him. He couldn’t have that big of a dick. Come on, you two just didn’t seem to be right for each other.”
“True. He says I’m immature.” Mimicking Charles’ voice, Mark tried not to laugh. “I have a childish, pedestrian sense of humor. No grown man, no one with a job designing space-probes and satellites should collect Three Stooges memorabilia.”
“He’s an ass.” Jake shook his head. “I almost told you that the first time I met you… actually the first time I met him.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Well, you were living with him.” He rolled his eyes. “Didn’t seem right to get in the middle of somebody’s life.”
Mark gave Jake a sideways glance. “And…” Jake was grinning.
He swallowed and shrugged. “Now you’re not.”
“And now I’m homeless.”
“Hey, I have a couch.” Jake stood and offered his hand. Almost embarrassed he added, “And a big bed.”
Staring up at the other man, Mark considered the offer. Charles had been comfortable, well used and, mostly, there. They hadn’t had much of a relationship for a long time, probably even since before Mark had moved in with him. “A bed for the night might be nice.” He took the proffered grip and let Jake pull him to standing. A china cat arced above their heads and impacted with an explosion of pottery shards. “I wonder if he realizes that was his. Never liked that piece of crap anyway.”
That set them both laughing as Mark hefted the boxes. The clothes were replaceable… vintage Bronze-Age comics not so much. A little lighter in mood than before, he bounded up the stairs.
“Here,” Jake stopped at the door and fished something out of his grocery bag, “you need this more than me.” He tossed a blister packed toy back toward Mark.
Almost fumbling boxes as the package landed on the top of the pile Mark asked. “What is it?”
“It’s a bunny that shits jelly beans.” Jake pushed the door open with his butt. “I guess that makes two of us with a juvenile sense of humor.”
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Publication Date: January 15, 2008
Cover art by Anne Cain
Love? Or duty? His choice will damn his country—or his heart.
A Serving Love story.
When Union soldier Emil Franks steps aboard Basile’s ship, his mission is to try to convince Basile to lend his vessel to the Union cause. But with one look at his former lover, he reveals far more—his lingering love for Basile.
Neither time nor the fires of war have dimmed their passion for each other, but not even the fact that Emil is now a vampire can sway Basile from his course. In two days’ time, he leaves for his native France.