"Like it?" Cole's eyebrows met in the middle. "More like finding myself doing it." He scowled and shook his head. "Just one of those things."
Like he was just easing his weight, Matthew shifted a few inches nearer Cole. He fished a bit of pork off Cole's plate. "So how did the cat pay you for rescuing and feeding him?" That's how the world worked. And people either took advantage of you or you took advantage of them.
"Pay me?" Food halfway to his mouth, Cole stopped and blinked.
"Yeah, you know," Matthew shrugged, "'cause everything has a price." He eased a sideways glance at Cole to see what his reaction would be. Even if the world worked that way, lots of people liked to pretend it didn't.
Slowly, Cole put his untouched Mu-Shu wrap down. "Doesn't have to." Turning to rest his hip against the counter, Cole added, "Sometimes people do things because it's just the right thing to do."
Yeah right. The world was about give and take even if Cole deluded himself. "I've never met anyone who just did the right thing."
"I did." Cole crossed his arm over his chest and glared. "How about that?"
That glare was smoking. "No you want something." Still, Matthew could also see the hint of defiance and shame under it. "Everybody wants something."
"I don't want anything." Cole's denial rang hollow to Matthew's ears.
Matthew stepped in, right into Cole's personal space. "You want me." He smirked. "Gonna lie?" He pressed in, letting Cole feel his half hard dick and so he could feel Cole's prick. "Tell me I'm wrong?" He dared Cole to contradict what his body was screaming loud and clear.
Cole took a deep breath. "I didn't stop them from beating the shit out of you so I could get laid." He didn't, however, back away.
"So you don't want me?" Matthew leered.
"Didn't say that either." Another ragged breath shook Cole's frame before he finished, "But that's not why I stopped them."
Well, at least he wasn't a total liar.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Round Robin Part VI
Part V
Ahem. Normally, I don’t get all excited about awards, but Dear Author is running a book tournament—a tournament, with seeding—and it just makes me get all sports-crazed so if anyone wants to feed myego competitive spirit, you could vote for Collision Course over at Dear Author beginning March 19.
Also, on Saturday March 21, I’m going to be participating with a bunch of authors at aparty very serious literary event with brownies, margaritas, wine and readings, at Chicket Books in Princeton, NJ (link).
Now back to the story.
(I want an announcer’s voice to intone this with that kind of breathless anticipation.) Previously on the Round Robin:
Cole was babbling and he made himself stop. "It'll give your shirt time to dry out," he concluded, and then added to himself, And maybe while we're eating I can figure out what you're hiding. Or hiding from.
* * * * *
This guy Cole, Mr. Art Store with his freaky named cat, was much too good to be true. Matthew was still looking for the catch as he watched Cole fold his pancake neatly over his mu shu pork while they ate at the checkout counter of Cole’s art supply store. Hiding a stare under blond bangs in need of a trim, Matthew had been studying Cole since they started eating.
Cole, on the other hand, seemed to be trying to look everywhere but at Matthew. But he’d caught those gazes earlier, the flare of heat and interest, and if the price of rescue was ending up in Cole’s bed it wouldn’t be too bad. Matthew had definitely done worse—would do worse—if he had to.
And it really wouldn’t be too bad. Cole was kind of cute in a nerdy, cat-cuddling way. Auburn hair that had gotten curly in the rain and soft brown eyes, a turned up little nose, and even better, a solid broad chest tapering to lean hips. A little short, a little old, and definitely not the kind of guy Matthew would have expected to ride to his rescue.
Cole’s tongue flicked out to lick the dark drops of plum sauce from his lips and Matthew felt a tug down deep in one place he hadn’t been kicked, thank God. Okay, so maybe the price of rescue would be better than not bad. And Cole wouldn’t ask any more questions and tomorrow morning, Matthew would still be on his way out of town—away from his aunt and uncle—even if he had to do it without the money Tyler had promised him. Matthew wondered if those two assholes had been Tyler’s farewell gift instead.
Cole’s wide pink lips were twitching like he was about to start with his questions again, so Matthew decided to cut him off with one of his own. Around a mouthful of fried rice he asked, “How long have you had it?” He pointed around with his chopsticks.
The cat jumped up on Cole’s shoulder and took a bit of pork from his fingers. “The store or Balthazar?”
“I meant the store.”
“I’ve had them both four years. Balthazar came with the store.”
The steady gold gaze from the cat was a little unnerving, as if Balthazar knew what Matthew had done. Almost done. He offered. I never asked for anything, Matthew told the cat as it slithered down Cole’s arm and stalked across the counter. But the gold gaze seemed more intent on willing the extraction of a piece of shrimp from Matthew’s lo mein than the secrets from his head. He held out a piece and the cat took it gently, a quick rasp of tongue as the shrimp vanished into a purring throat.
“He likes you,” Cole sounded surprised. “He usually takes a long time to warm up to people.”
“I think he just likes the shrimp.”
Cole shrugged. “He was pretty abused as a kitten. He usually sticks to me when someone’s in the store.”
Matthew got it. “You like coming to the rescue, huh?”
Ahem. Normally, I don’t get all excited about awards, but Dear Author is running a book tournament—a tournament, with seeding—and it just makes me get all sports-crazed so if anyone wants to feed my
Also, on Saturday March 21, I’m going to be participating with a bunch of authors at a
Now back to the story.
(I want an announcer’s voice to intone this with that kind of breathless anticipation.) Previously on the Round Robin:
Cole was babbling and he made himself stop. "It'll give your shirt time to dry out," he concluded, and then added to himself, And maybe while we're eating I can figure out what you're hiding. Or hiding from.
This guy Cole, Mr. Art Store with his freaky named cat, was much too good to be true. Matthew was still looking for the catch as he watched Cole fold his pancake neatly over his mu shu pork while they ate at the checkout counter of Cole’s art supply store. Hiding a stare under blond bangs in need of a trim, Matthew had been studying Cole since they started eating.
Cole, on the other hand, seemed to be trying to look everywhere but at Matthew. But he’d caught those gazes earlier, the flare of heat and interest, and if the price of rescue was ending up in Cole’s bed it wouldn’t be too bad. Matthew had definitely done worse—would do worse—if he had to.
And it really wouldn’t be too bad. Cole was kind of cute in a nerdy, cat-cuddling way. Auburn hair that had gotten curly in the rain and soft brown eyes, a turned up little nose, and even better, a solid broad chest tapering to lean hips. A little short, a little old, and definitely not the kind of guy Matthew would have expected to ride to his rescue.
Cole’s tongue flicked out to lick the dark drops of plum sauce from his lips and Matthew felt a tug down deep in one place he hadn’t been kicked, thank God. Okay, so maybe the price of rescue would be better than not bad. And Cole wouldn’t ask any more questions and tomorrow morning, Matthew would still be on his way out of town—away from his aunt and uncle—even if he had to do it without the money Tyler had promised him. Matthew wondered if those two assholes had been Tyler’s farewell gift instead.
Cole’s wide pink lips were twitching like he was about to start with his questions again, so Matthew decided to cut him off with one of his own. Around a mouthful of fried rice he asked, “How long have you had it?” He pointed around with his chopsticks.
The cat jumped up on Cole’s shoulder and took a bit of pork from his fingers. “The store or Balthazar?”
“I meant the store.”
“I’ve had them both four years. Balthazar came with the store.”
The steady gold gaze from the cat was a little unnerving, as if Balthazar knew what Matthew had done. Almost done. He offered. I never asked for anything, Matthew told the cat as it slithered down Cole’s arm and stalked across the counter. But the gold gaze seemed more intent on willing the extraction of a piece of shrimp from Matthew’s lo mein than the secrets from his head. He held out a piece and the cat took it gently, a quick rasp of tongue as the shrimp vanished into a purring throat.
“He likes you,” Cole sounded surprised. “He usually takes a long time to warm up to people.”
“I think he just likes the shrimp.”
Cole shrugged. “He was pretty abused as a kitten. He usually sticks to me when someone’s in the store.”
Matthew got it. “You like coming to the rescue, huh?”
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Round Robin Part V
You can find Part IV here.
-----------------------------------------------
"Huh?" Cole turned to see what had caught Matthew's gaze, and saw two glowing golden eyes hovering about six feet off the floor. "Oh! Balthazar." The big orange cat meowed loudly at the sound of his name and sat up from his crouch on the shelving unit. "How the hell did you get up there?" Cole reached out and hauled the feline off the shelf. He turned, cat in his arms, to face Matthew once more. "You're not allergic are you?"
Matthew shook his head, snorted what might have been a soft laugh. "No. You have a cat?"
"Yeah."
"In an art supply store?"
"Yeah." Cole set Balthazar on the floor and the cat immediately trotted over to Matthew and began to wind around and around Matthew's feet, purring loudly.
Matthew looked down at Balthazar, but contrary to Cole's expectations, didn't kneel to pet him. Why should I have any expectations? Cole wondered silently. He didn't know this kid from Adam. And yet, he'd let him into his shop, after hours, no one around as a witness if the boy suddenly went apeshit and beat him to death with tub of gesso.
Cole shook his head at himself. Wow. His imagination was really twisted tonight. Besides, if Matthew was dangerous, wouldn't Balthazar have picked up on it? Animals were much better at that stuff than humans.
"I've seen used book stores with cats, but never a place like this. I mean, aren't you afraid he's gonna, you know, break stuff?" Matthew asked, watching as the cat continued to weave around his ankles like some sort of Moebius path.
"No. Listen." This was getting them no where, and frankly Cole was too hungry to care about cats and art supplies and latent homicidal tendencies and strange scars. … Okay, maybe he was still wondering about the long scar down Matthew's otherwise lovely—if rapidly bruising—torso, but he wasn't rude enough to bring it up again. "Are you hungry? I was going to get dinner anyway. There's a good Chinese place a couple of blocks away. My treat."
Matthew's eyes widened and he looked suddenly hunted.
Shit. He hadn't meant for that to sound like he was asking the boy out. He needed to eat or he was just going to get stupider the hungrier he got. "Or we could order in," Cole amended quickly. A flash of lightning lit the darkened street and was soon followed by a low rumble of thunder. "Stupid to go out in this weather if you don't have to. It wouldn't be the first time the Dragon Palace has delivered here, although usually it's lunch. They do awesome mu shu pork and pot stickers." Cole was babbling and he made himself stop. "It'll give your shirt time to dry out," he concluded, and then added to himself, And maybe while we're eating I can figure out what you're hiding. Or hiding from.
------------------------
-----------------------------------------------
"Huh?" Cole turned to see what had caught Matthew's gaze, and saw two glowing golden eyes hovering about six feet off the floor. "Oh! Balthazar." The big orange cat meowed loudly at the sound of his name and sat up from his crouch on the shelving unit. "How the hell did you get up there?" Cole reached out and hauled the feline off the shelf. He turned, cat in his arms, to face Matthew once more. "You're not allergic are you?"
Matthew shook his head, snorted what might have been a soft laugh. "No. You have a cat?"
"Yeah."
"In an art supply store?"
"Yeah." Cole set Balthazar on the floor and the cat immediately trotted over to Matthew and began to wind around and around Matthew's feet, purring loudly.
Matthew looked down at Balthazar, but contrary to Cole's expectations, didn't kneel to pet him. Why should I have any expectations? Cole wondered silently. He didn't know this kid from Adam. And yet, he'd let him into his shop, after hours, no one around as a witness if the boy suddenly went apeshit and beat him to death with tub of gesso.
Cole shook his head at himself. Wow. His imagination was really twisted tonight. Besides, if Matthew was dangerous, wouldn't Balthazar have picked up on it? Animals were much better at that stuff than humans.
"I've seen used book stores with cats, but never a place like this. I mean, aren't you afraid he's gonna, you know, break stuff?" Matthew asked, watching as the cat continued to weave around his ankles like some sort of Moebius path.
"No. Listen." This was getting them no where, and frankly Cole was too hungry to care about cats and art supplies and latent homicidal tendencies and strange scars. … Okay, maybe he was still wondering about the long scar down Matthew's otherwise lovely—if rapidly bruising—torso, but he wasn't rude enough to bring it up again. "Are you hungry? I was going to get dinner anyway. There's a good Chinese place a couple of blocks away. My treat."
Matthew's eyes widened and he looked suddenly hunted.
Shit. He hadn't meant for that to sound like he was asking the boy out. He needed to eat or he was just going to get stupider the hungrier he got. "Or we could order in," Cole amended quickly. A flash of lightning lit the darkened street and was soon followed by a low rumble of thunder. "Stupid to go out in this weather if you don't have to. It wouldn't be the first time the Dragon Palace has delivered here, although usually it's lunch. They do awesome mu shu pork and pot stickers." Cole was babbling and he made himself stop. "It'll give your shirt time to dry out," he concluded, and then added to himself, And maybe while we're eating I can figure out what you're hiding. Or hiding from.
------------------------
Next? :)
Monday, March 16, 2009
Round Robin Part IV
I have to agree with Tory. March is halfway over *eek* But at least we're finally getting that great spring weather.
---------------------
“I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Cole brushed his hands through his hair to push it back from his face. Water dripped on the light coat he still wore. He also noticed several spots on Matthew’s stomach that were already starting to darken. He’ll have some rough looking bruises by the morning.
Matthew’s eyes lowered and he hurriedly pulled on the sweat shirt. He picked up the soaked shirt and took a couple of steps back from Cole. He didn’t respond to the comments, instead asking, “Do you have a bathroom?”
Cole blinked. “Uh, yeah. In the back, down the short hallway on the left.”
The corner of Matthew’s lips twitched up into an almost smile. “Thanks.”
Staring, Cole watched the young man disappear into the back. “Great going, big-mouth. You try to help out a fellow man in need, and end up making his night worse,” he chastised himself.
The sound of the rain becoming harder drew his attention to the storefront window. It was raining cats and dogs. They’ll be stuck here for some time if this keeps up. Good thing he had no particular plans for the night. Though he was getting hungry.
Startled, Cole jumped when Matthew spoke. “Thank you again. I hope you don’t mind that I hung up my shirt to dry some.”
Cole turned and shook his head. “No, that’s fine. I was just thinking that we may be here awhile.”
Matthew looked so small in the oversized sweatshirt, arms crossed over his chest and still not quite meeting his eyes. Those nice eyes looked over Cole’s shoulder and widened.
“What’s that?”
----------------------------
Next?
---------------------
“I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Cole brushed his hands through his hair to push it back from his face. Water dripped on the light coat he still wore. He also noticed several spots on Matthew’s stomach that were already starting to darken. He’ll have some rough looking bruises by the morning.
Matthew’s eyes lowered and he hurriedly pulled on the sweat shirt. He picked up the soaked shirt and took a couple of steps back from Cole. He didn’t respond to the comments, instead asking, “Do you have a bathroom?”
Cole blinked. “Uh, yeah. In the back, down the short hallway on the left.”
The corner of Matthew’s lips twitched up into an almost smile. “Thanks.”
Staring, Cole watched the young man disappear into the back. “Great going, big-mouth. You try to help out a fellow man in need, and end up making his night worse,” he chastised himself.
The sound of the rain becoming harder drew his attention to the storefront window. It was raining cats and dogs. They’ll be stuck here for some time if this keeps up. Good thing he had no particular plans for the night. Though he was getting hungry.
Startled, Cole jumped when Matthew spoke. “Thank you again. I hope you don’t mind that I hung up my shirt to dry some.”
Cole turned and shook his head. “No, that’s fine. I was just thinking that we may be here awhile.”
Matthew looked so small in the oversized sweatshirt, arms crossed over his chest and still not quite meeting his eyes. Those nice eyes looked over Cole’s shoulder and widened.
“What’s that?”
----------------------------
Next?
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Round Robin Part III
Sunday again? Wow, March is flying by. On with it!
***
"I'm sure." Cole was even more sure when the mist changed to real rain and there was an ominous rumble of thunder. "Come on, I'm freezing."
Matthew darted one more look around and then hunched his shoulders against the weather. "Yeah, all right. At least until the rain stops."
Glad to have made some progress, even a bit, Cole turned and headed back down the street with Matthew in tow. They reached his small art supply shop in no time. Cole fumbled with the keys and got the door open, hustling both of them in out of the rain.
He watched as Matthew's gaze traveled over the various paints, brushes, pencils, and canvases that lined the walls of the little store.
"Do you draw?" the boy asked. "Or paint, or something?"
Cole nodded. "Mostly I just sketch, but once in a while the urge to paint strikes me." He thought of all the hidden pages of the comic book he'd been working on for months.
"Oh. Cool." Matthew's voice was soft and Cole noticed that his shirt was overly damp and sticking to his thin shoulders.
"I have a dry shirt," Cole offered. "No dry pants, though. But at least you'd be warmer." He bent down behind the register and dug out an old, soft sweatshirt. "Want to put this on?"
Matthew nibbled his lower lip a bit before reaching out a hand to take the shirt. "Um, yeah. Thanks." He stepped back again and stripped his t-shirt off, letting it fall to the floor in a sad little heap.
Cole's eyes widened. Matthew had a thin red scar that ran from chest to waist. It was nearly white in some spots, so it couldn't have been a recent injury, but it was startling enough for Cole to blurt out, "Where'd that come from?"
He kicked himself a moment later for it, but the words were out there and Matthew was looking at him warily.
***
Next!
***
"I'm sure." Cole was even more sure when the mist changed to real rain and there was an ominous rumble of thunder. "Come on, I'm freezing."
Matthew darted one more look around and then hunched his shoulders against the weather. "Yeah, all right. At least until the rain stops."
Glad to have made some progress, even a bit, Cole turned and headed back down the street with Matthew in tow. They reached his small art supply shop in no time. Cole fumbled with the keys and got the door open, hustling both of them in out of the rain.
He watched as Matthew's gaze traveled over the various paints, brushes, pencils, and canvases that lined the walls of the little store.
"Do you draw?" the boy asked. "Or paint, or something?"
Cole nodded. "Mostly I just sketch, but once in a while the urge to paint strikes me." He thought of all the hidden pages of the comic book he'd been working on for months.
"Oh. Cool." Matthew's voice was soft and Cole noticed that his shirt was overly damp and sticking to his thin shoulders.
"I have a dry shirt," Cole offered. "No dry pants, though. But at least you'd be warmer." He bent down behind the register and dug out an old, soft sweatshirt. "Want to put this on?"
Matthew nibbled his lower lip a bit before reaching out a hand to take the shirt. "Um, yeah. Thanks." He stepped back again and stripped his t-shirt off, letting it fall to the floor in a sad little heap.
Cole's eyes widened. Matthew had a thin red scar that ran from chest to waist. It was nearly white in some spots, so it couldn't have been a recent injury, but it was startling enough for Cole to blurt out, "Where'd that come from?"
He kicked himself a moment later for it, but the words were out there and Matthew was looking at him warily.
***
Next!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Join me at the Rainbow Book Fair in NYC!
Phaze Books has a table at the first ever Rainbow Book Fair in New York City, two weeks from now. We'll have copies of our hottest GLBT titles from authors like Jade Falconer, James Buchanan, Mychael Black and Shayne Carmichael, L.E. Bryce, and more. We'll have have various Coming Together anthologies on hand and other goodies to give away. I'll be there manning the table, though I won't yet have any M/M in print for sale. The good news is, though, my story "Why Why Zed" (a Phaze Urban release) will be part of Metropolitan Passions, Vol. 1, the first Urban anthology collection. I'll be sharing space with two other M/M authors. This is my first M/M story to go to print!
Visit the site of The Center for directions to the fair. Hope to see you!
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Round Robin - Part II
Matthew's eyes went wide before skittering away. "Yeah there is," he mumbled, glaring at the wet ground. "It's just...my ex." The kid's words were slow, like he was thinking them up as he went. Probably was. "We don't...we don't really get along." A wan smile flicked Matthew's firm mouth up. "Just a little nervous, ya know."
"Liar," Cole chided gently. Mathew bit his lip harder and watched the ground like it was going to open up and pull him under, possibly saving him from Cole's inquiries. Because he looked so miserable, Cole almost didn't want to push. Wasn't that important, really, to know why Matthew was there.
Except he did look miserable and Cole was involved now. At least a little bit. "C'mon, tell me the truth." He opened his arms out and held his palms up, trying to give off not gonna hurt you signals. "I can't just leave you out here by yourself in the rain."
As if God was working with him, the mist went from light to mild. Water drops landed a little harder, with an audible splat. Matthew drew in a startled breath when a drop splattered on his nose. Cole shook his head. "Yeah, now I definitely can't leave you out here. If you won't tell me what's up, at least let me get you somewhe warm. No point in being stubborn and hypothermic." He jerked his thumb back the way he'd came. "My shop's just right there."
Clearly torn, Matthew shoved his hands in his rapidly dampening jean pockets. The move tightened the material across his crotch and Cole forced himself to give Matthew really good eye contact. He wasn't going to eyeball the kid. He wasn't, dammit. It didn't matter that Matthew was pretty - holy damn was he pretty - and it sure as hell didn't matter that Cole suddenly felt every day of the last celibate six months centering in his hips.
Sex with a stranger was not on his list of priorities. Then again, neither had been playing the hero.
Matthew finally sighed, blowing out a hard breath. "I'd appreciate that." His voice screamed reluctance. "If you're sure."
Curiosity nearly ate his brain up. Could the guy anymore secretive and loner-ish? The night's plan of food, shower and sleep faded to the back of his mind. So maybe he was nosy but Cole didn't think he'd be able to let the mystery of Matthew go just yet.
---------------------------------
*wince* Totally leaked onto someone else's day but in my defense, my internet kicked me off! This is short but I hope you enjoyed it anyway! On with the show!
"Liar," Cole chided gently. Mathew bit his lip harder and watched the ground like it was going to open up and pull him under, possibly saving him from Cole's inquiries. Because he looked so miserable, Cole almost didn't want to push. Wasn't that important, really, to know why Matthew was there.
Except he did look miserable and Cole was involved now. At least a little bit. "C'mon, tell me the truth." He opened his arms out and held his palms up, trying to give off not gonna hurt you signals. "I can't just leave you out here by yourself in the rain."
As if God was working with him, the mist went from light to mild. Water drops landed a little harder, with an audible splat. Matthew drew in a startled breath when a drop splattered on his nose. Cole shook his head. "Yeah, now I definitely can't leave you out here. If you won't tell me what's up, at least let me get you somewhe warm. No point in being stubborn and hypothermic." He jerked his thumb back the way he'd came. "My shop's just right there."
Clearly torn, Matthew shoved his hands in his rapidly dampening jean pockets. The move tightened the material across his crotch and Cole forced himself to give Matthew really good eye contact. He wasn't going to eyeball the kid. He wasn't, dammit. It didn't matter that Matthew was pretty - holy damn was he pretty - and it sure as hell didn't matter that Cole suddenly felt every day of the last celibate six months centering in his hips.
Sex with a stranger was not on his list of priorities. Then again, neither had been playing the hero.
Matthew finally sighed, blowing out a hard breath. "I'd appreciate that." His voice screamed reluctance. "If you're sure."
Curiosity nearly ate his brain up. Could the guy anymore secretive and loner-ish? The night's plan of food, shower and sleep faded to the back of his mind. So maybe he was nosy but Cole didn't think he'd be able to let the mystery of Matthew go just yet.
---------------------------------
*wince* Totally leaked onto someone else's day but in my defense, my internet kicked me off! This is short but I hope you enjoyed it anyway! On with the show!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Round Robin - Part I
It's that time of year again. The time when spring blossoms and those of us here at Slash & Burn kick off our annual round robin. Without further ado, here's part I of 2009's story.
The scuffle of feet on pavement, several pairs by the sound of it, cut through the near darkness. A deep voice yelled, “Here pussy, pussy.” A higher pitched laugh filled the air and someone whimpered.
Cole picked up his pace, hurrying across the dimparking lot toward his car. The last thing he needed was to get mugged before he made it home from work.
“No,” a third voice called out. “Leave me alone. I haven’t done anything to you.”
Cole turned toward the voices in time to see a petite blonde boy take a nose dive toward the sidewalk in front of the building. Two older boys, both brunettes, towered over him with gleeful looks on their faces.
One of the pair, the taller of the two, reared back his foot and kicked the fallen boy in the stomach. “Fucking homo. We’ll teach you not to walk around shaking your skinny ass at people.”
The other guy bounced on the balls of his feet, egging his friend on. “Yeah, buddy, do it. Kick his ass.”
Cole’s teeth clenched in response to what he was witnessing.
A second kick and the blonde’s pitiful wail of, “Please stop. I wasn’t doing anything. I swear,” eroded his hesitation to get involved. He couldn’t just stand there and let some poor kid get beat on. Reaching into his coat pocket, he felt around for his cell phone before remembering that he’d let the battery die and left it at home to charge. Of all the damn times to be without my phone.
Shit, now what?
He balled his fist around the sharp end of his keys, the tines poking thorough tightly compressed fingers of one hand. It wasn’t much protection, but bully’s were usually pussies who ran at the first sign of someone who fought back anyway. At least, that’s what he was counting on.
“Hey,” he screamed, taking off at a run toward the threesome. “Leave that kid alone.”
The thug’s foot stilled in midair. A nasty smile crossed his features as he saw Cole. “Mind your own business, jackass.” He then preceded to gut-kick the smaller boy again. The boy on the ground curled up into the fetal position and wrapped his arms around his midsection.
“Yeah, yeah,” the other one chimed in. “Get the hell out of here, dude.”
“Leave him alone, damn it.” Cole sprinted toward them. A potent mix of adrenaline and anger coursed though his veins, making him forget why he shouldn’t get involved. Even so, he wasn’t stupid. “I called the police. They’re on their way.”
The thug’s friend tugged on his shirt sleeve and said something Cole couldn’t make out. They looked at each other for a second and then the bigger of the two cleared his throat loudly and spit on the blonde boy. “This isn’t over, faggot. You’d best hightail it out of town unless you want us to find you and finish what we started, you hear?”
“Yeah,” the other boy added, spitting at the pavement next to the kid. “We don’t want your kind around here.”
The two boys darted toward a red convertible parked at the front of the lot. They hopped inside and roared out the parking lot, burning rubber just as he reached the sidewalk.
The kid began struggling to sit up as Cole approached and kneeled at his side. “Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?”
He grimaced. “No. I can’t afford to go to the hospital right now.”
Cole reached out to touch him, his natural inclination to offer comfort, but thought better of it at the last moment. He dropped his hands to his sides. Just because he was a touchy feely person didn’t mean everyone else was. “The emergency room can’t turn you away whether you can pay or not. Besides, that’s what payment plans are for. Are you sure I shouldn’t call for some help? I lied about calling the cops—I don’t have my cell phone on me—but my store’s right over there.” He pointed toward the storefront a few doors down. “I can let myself back in and make a call for you.”
“No. Thanks for chasing those bozos off for me, but I’ll live.”
Cole’s heart went out to the kid. The blue shirt he wore molded to his slender frame, while his jeans hung off his narrow hips.
Nothing about him screamed underfed or drug addicted, just a kid in the wrong place at the wrong time. He looked a little older than Cole had originally guessed—closer to twenty than fifteen—but he was still young. From this close, Cole could make out the clear blue of his eyes and the pale gold of his skin. His clothes were designer label, though they were wrinkled and smeared with dirt. Cole didn’t think the kid was a runaway, but anything was possible.
He stood and held out a hand to help the guy up. The kid took it Cole’s hand and rose slowly to his feet, wincing all the while. Taller than he’d looked when compared to the two other boys, he towered over Cole’s pitiful five foot six by almost half a foot, making him feel a little self-conscious. He didn’t know anything about the guy, other than what he’d just seen. However, instinct screamed that he needn’t worry.
Cole backed up and leaned against the brick wall, putting some space between them. “Is there someone I can call to come and get you?”
Color flooded the kid’s cheeks before he glanced down at the ground. “No. I…um…I’m expecting someone to meet me here in a few minutes.” He shuffled his feet, his embarrassment obvious. “Those two guys are probably long gone, if you need to take off. I’ll be fine waiting here by myself.”
Curious. Cole would bet a month’s profits that the kid was lying. “I could hang out with you until you’re ride gets here.”
“No! I mean, thanks, but you don’t have to do that. You’ve already done enough.” He lifted his gaze and stared out toward the nonexistent traffic on the highway. “I’m sure my friend will be here soon.”
“It’s cool. I don’t mind keeping you company. It’s not like I have anything more important to do.”
“Well, uh, okay, but I don’t how long it’s going to be.”
“No problem.” Cole held his hand out. “My name is Cole by the way.”
The kid eyed Cole’s hand suspiciously for a minute, as if he expected Cole to smack him with it, before finally taking it between his own and giving it a quick shake. “Hi Cole. My name’s Matthew.”
Cole smiled, trying to put the kid at ease. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, what were you doing out here when those guys attacked you? I mean, all the stores closed hours ago.”
Matthew fidgeted. “I don’t know. I was just kind of hanging out when they snuck up on me. I sort of know them from school, but never really talked to them, you know. We didn’t exactly run in the same circles at Carrington and the last thing I expected was to run into them out here. I don’t know why they’d want to whale on me.”
Cole thought it probably had something to do with the slurs they’d tossed at the kid, but he kept his mouth shut. If Matthew didn’t want to tell him he was gay, then was none of his business.
“Carrington, huh? What’s it like to go to prep school? I was a public school brat myself.” Carrington wasn’t the only private high school in the area, but it was the most prestigious. That he’d attended school there only thickened the mystery surrounding him. If he came from money, what was he doing hanging around in the middle-to-lower class section of town on a Friday night?
“It was okay. Boring, mostly. I was happy to graduate. It’s not like I ever fit in there.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his stance defensive. “The same reason most people don’t, I guess. I’m not into sports or partying and kept pretty much to myself. I was too quiet, too artsy. No reasons that really matter.”
Cole nodded. “High school is hell on everyone, I think. Some kind of torturous right of passage we all have to live through.” Lord knew, his own hadn’t been pleasant.
Matthew snorted. “Well, I’m just glad it’s over.”
A light mist of rain began to fall, making the asphalt parking lot shine under the lamplight. Cole pushed off the wall and stood up straight. The kid seemed likable enough, but he was hiding something. Cole would bet his right butt-cheek on it. “So, who’s this friend that’s coming to get you?”
“Oh, um…” He bit his lip.
Cole looked Matthew right in the eyes and gave him his best “cut the bullshit” look. “There isn’t anyone coming, is there?”
Make sure you check back often for more of the story. :)
The scuffle of feet on pavement, several pairs by the sound of it, cut through the near darkness. A deep voice yelled, “Here pussy, pussy.” A higher pitched laugh filled the air and someone whimpered.
Cole picked up his pace, hurrying across the dimparking lot toward his car. The last thing he needed was to get mugged before he made it home from work.
“No,” a third voice called out. “Leave me alone. I haven’t done anything to you.”
Cole turned toward the voices in time to see a petite blonde boy take a nose dive toward the sidewalk in front of the building. Two older boys, both brunettes, towered over him with gleeful looks on their faces.
One of the pair, the taller of the two, reared back his foot and kicked the fallen boy in the stomach. “Fucking homo. We’ll teach you not to walk around shaking your skinny ass at people.”
The other guy bounced on the balls of his feet, egging his friend on. “Yeah, buddy, do it. Kick his ass.”
Cole’s teeth clenched in response to what he was witnessing.
A second kick and the blonde’s pitiful wail of, “Please stop. I wasn’t doing anything. I swear,” eroded his hesitation to get involved. He couldn’t just stand there and let some poor kid get beat on. Reaching into his coat pocket, he felt around for his cell phone before remembering that he’d let the battery die and left it at home to charge. Of all the damn times to be without my phone.
Shit, now what?
He balled his fist around the sharp end of his keys, the tines poking thorough tightly compressed fingers of one hand. It wasn’t much protection, but bully’s were usually pussies who ran at the first sign of someone who fought back anyway. At least, that’s what he was counting on.
“Hey,” he screamed, taking off at a run toward the threesome. “Leave that kid alone.”
The thug’s foot stilled in midair. A nasty smile crossed his features as he saw Cole. “Mind your own business, jackass.” He then preceded to gut-kick the smaller boy again. The boy on the ground curled up into the fetal position and wrapped his arms around his midsection.
“Yeah, yeah,” the other one chimed in. “Get the hell out of here, dude.”
“Leave him alone, damn it.” Cole sprinted toward them. A potent mix of adrenaline and anger coursed though his veins, making him forget why he shouldn’t get involved. Even so, he wasn’t stupid. “I called the police. They’re on their way.”
The thug’s friend tugged on his shirt sleeve and said something Cole couldn’t make out. They looked at each other for a second and then the bigger of the two cleared his throat loudly and spit on the blonde boy. “This isn’t over, faggot. You’d best hightail it out of town unless you want us to find you and finish what we started, you hear?”
“Yeah,” the other boy added, spitting at the pavement next to the kid. “We don’t want your kind around here.”
The two boys darted toward a red convertible parked at the front of the lot. They hopped inside and roared out the parking lot, burning rubber just as he reached the sidewalk.
The kid began struggling to sit up as Cole approached and kneeled at his side. “Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?”
He grimaced. “No. I can’t afford to go to the hospital right now.”
Cole reached out to touch him, his natural inclination to offer comfort, but thought better of it at the last moment. He dropped his hands to his sides. Just because he was a touchy feely person didn’t mean everyone else was. “The emergency room can’t turn you away whether you can pay or not. Besides, that’s what payment plans are for. Are you sure I shouldn’t call for some help? I lied about calling the cops—I don’t have my cell phone on me—but my store’s right over there.” He pointed toward the storefront a few doors down. “I can let myself back in and make a call for you.”
“No. Thanks for chasing those bozos off for me, but I’ll live.”
Cole’s heart went out to the kid. The blue shirt he wore molded to his slender frame, while his jeans hung off his narrow hips.
Nothing about him screamed underfed or drug addicted, just a kid in the wrong place at the wrong time. He looked a little older than Cole had originally guessed—closer to twenty than fifteen—but he was still young. From this close, Cole could make out the clear blue of his eyes and the pale gold of his skin. His clothes were designer label, though they were wrinkled and smeared with dirt. Cole didn’t think the kid was a runaway, but anything was possible.
He stood and held out a hand to help the guy up. The kid took it Cole’s hand and rose slowly to his feet, wincing all the while. Taller than he’d looked when compared to the two other boys, he towered over Cole’s pitiful five foot six by almost half a foot, making him feel a little self-conscious. He didn’t know anything about the guy, other than what he’d just seen. However, instinct screamed that he needn’t worry.
Cole backed up and leaned against the brick wall, putting some space between them. “Is there someone I can call to come and get you?”
Color flooded the kid’s cheeks before he glanced down at the ground. “No. I…um…I’m expecting someone to meet me here in a few minutes.” He shuffled his feet, his embarrassment obvious. “Those two guys are probably long gone, if you need to take off. I’ll be fine waiting here by myself.”
Curious. Cole would bet a month’s profits that the kid was lying. “I could hang out with you until you’re ride gets here.”
“No! I mean, thanks, but you don’t have to do that. You’ve already done enough.” He lifted his gaze and stared out toward the nonexistent traffic on the highway. “I’m sure my friend will be here soon.”
“It’s cool. I don’t mind keeping you company. It’s not like I have anything more important to do.”
“Well, uh, okay, but I don’t how long it’s going to be.”
“No problem.” Cole held his hand out. “My name is Cole by the way.”
The kid eyed Cole’s hand suspiciously for a minute, as if he expected Cole to smack him with it, before finally taking it between his own and giving it a quick shake. “Hi Cole. My name’s Matthew.”
Cole smiled, trying to put the kid at ease. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, what were you doing out here when those guys attacked you? I mean, all the stores closed hours ago.”
Matthew fidgeted. “I don’t know. I was just kind of hanging out when they snuck up on me. I sort of know them from school, but never really talked to them, you know. We didn’t exactly run in the same circles at Carrington and the last thing I expected was to run into them out here. I don’t know why they’d want to whale on me.”
Cole thought it probably had something to do with the slurs they’d tossed at the kid, but he kept his mouth shut. If Matthew didn’t want to tell him he was gay, then was none of his business.
“Carrington, huh? What’s it like to go to prep school? I was a public school brat myself.” Carrington wasn’t the only private high school in the area, but it was the most prestigious. That he’d attended school there only thickened the mystery surrounding him. If he came from money, what was he doing hanging around in the middle-to-lower class section of town on a Friday night?
“It was okay. Boring, mostly. I was happy to graduate. It’s not like I ever fit in there.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his stance defensive. “The same reason most people don’t, I guess. I’m not into sports or partying and kept pretty much to myself. I was too quiet, too artsy. No reasons that really matter.”
Cole nodded. “High school is hell on everyone, I think. Some kind of torturous right of passage we all have to live through.” Lord knew, his own hadn’t been pleasant.
Matthew snorted. “Well, I’m just glad it’s over.”
A light mist of rain began to fall, making the asphalt parking lot shine under the lamplight. Cole pushed off the wall and stood up straight. The kid seemed likable enough, but he was hiding something. Cole would bet his right butt-cheek on it. “So, who’s this friend that’s coming to get you?”
“Oh, um…” He bit his lip.
Cole looked Matthew right in the eyes and gave him his best “cut the bullshit” look. “There isn’t anyone coming, is there?”
Make sure you check back often for more of the story. :)
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Eight Arms To Hold You now in print!
Eight Arms To Hold You is now available in print from MLR Press. Yay! I'm excited about this :) And I love love LOVE the new print cover! Totally lickable!Click here to read the prologue and purchase the book. Read on for an excerpt :)
~*~*~*~*~
© Copyright 2009 Ally Blue
Blurb:
Finding your heart's desire comes with a price. Luke Cordova, the last of an ancient race, and Austin Bell, a diver who's down on his luck, are both looking for a new start. They're fated to be together--if they survive the dangerously stormy seas and a deadly shared enemy.
Excerpt:
Luke’s head hit the edge of his father’s desk with a resounding crack. He fell to the floor, agony flaring through his skull as his head bounced against the carpet. Blood splattered across the gray sisal. Luke stared at the bright red spots, wondering if he’d be punished for the stains.
“Stupid boy,” Carson growled, pacing back and forth about a foot from Luke’s nose. “You know Dr. Allen forgets himself at times. How dare you arouse his concern? In front of a new employee, no less. What if Dr. Allen had spoken of your ... affliction, and that boy had heard him? Everything I’ve worked for could have been destroyed. Do you understand that? Everything!”
That last was punctuated by a kick to Luke’s stomach. He curled into a ball, coughing more blood onto the carpet. His ears rang, his vision fading in and out. The bright, flaring pain in his head told him his skull was fractured.
His father’s Italian loafers stopped pacing and planted themselves in front of Luke’s face. “Go to the ocean. Shift and heal yourself, then go directly to your cabin. You will take your meals in your quarters from now on. During the day, you will busy yourself with your research into the idol. You will dive as an octopus at night, and you will find my treasure or die trying. Do you understand?”
Pushing himself onto hands and knees, Luke nodded. “Yes. Sir.”
“Good.” Carson yanked Luke to his feet, dragged him to the door and shoved him into the hallway. “Get out of my sight.”
Stepping back into his office, Carson slammed the door shut. Luke leaned against the wall, fighting to stay conscious. Keeping one hand on the wall, he took a tentative step in the direction of the ladder to the main deck. The floor tilted, the hallway swinging in front of his eyes, and he fell to his knees.
“Fuck,” he whispered, tears of frustration blurring his vision. Have to get up. Have to get to the deck. Need to shift. God, please ...
Footsteps sounded in the passageway, coming toward him. Panic surged through him. Unable to stand, he started crawling away, toward the nearest empty room.
A gasp and the sound of running feet told him he’d been caught. With no way to avoid whoever it was, he sat down, resting his back against the wall.
“Christ, kid! What happened?”
Smith. His father’s foreman. He knew exactly what had happened. Everyone on board knew. Carson hadn’t bothered to hide it for years.
Luke laughed, sending fresh waves of pain through his insides. “I fell.”
“Shouldn’t fall so much, kid. Gonna get killed one day.”
Surprised, Luke blinked up at Smith with the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. Smith’s stony face betrayed nothing, but Luke’s instincts told him to trust the man. After all, Smith was one of the few non-scientists on board who knew Luke was a shifter.
“Help me get to the deck,” Luke pleaded, his voice weak and breathy. “Please? Have to get into the water.”
Smith’s jaws clenched, but he nodded. “Sure. Here, hang on to me.”
With Smith’s muscular arm around his waist, Luke struggled to his feet. Vertigo whirled in his head. Swallowing against a violent wave of nausea, Luke clung to Smith and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
It took them nearly ten minutes to make it the few yards to the nearest stair and down to the main deck. Outside, Luke curled his fingers around the metal rail and breathed deeply of the salty night air. The damp cold felt soothing against his battered skin.
“Thanks, Smith.” Luke managed a smile. “I’m okay now.”
Smith nodded, turned and left without another word. Luke watched him go. He was a good sort, when it came right down to it. Not much to say, of course, but that wasn’t always a bad thing.
Lowering himself carefully to the deck, Luke sat down and started pulling off his clothes. Normally he would’ve gone to the dive platform, but he didn’t think he could make it that far. He’d just have to take the chance that the rest of the crew would stay below.
Stashing his clothes under a nearby tarp, Luke slipped under the railing and plunged naked into the ocean below. As soon as the icy water closed over him, he shifted. Instantly, the pain faded from his head and belly as the damaged tissues knit together. He glided into the inky blackness, reveling in the strength and energy of his octopus form.
I could stay like this forever. He often fantasized about that while swooping with effortless grace through the water. He’d always gone back to his human form in the end, knowing he didn’t have the skills to survive as a full-time sea creature and unsure whether he’d be able to maintain that form indefinitely in any case. Now, he had a whole new reason to go back.
Austin.
The second he thought of Austin, the need to be with him tugged at Luke’s insides. He obeyed that silent call without question, jetting back to El Cazador with a few pumps of his mantle.
Hanging underneath the ladder to the dive platform, Luke scanned the visible deck as best he could from underwater. No one was in sight. He shifted and shimmied up the ladder. Grabbing a thick towel from the hamper, he dried off as quickly as he could. He tolerated the cold much better than most people, but the wind was still chilly on his bare skin and dripping hair.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he ran silently along the deck. It remained empty. Luke was almost to the spot where he’d left his clothes, and was starting to think he might make it all the way back to his room without seeing anyone, when a dark shape detached itself from the shadows and stepped in front of him.
“Shit!” Luke skidded to a halt mere inches from the person. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I was just going for a swim, I…”
“Luke?”
The soft voice stopped Luke’s babbling cold. “Austin? What ... What are you doing out here? It’s cold.”
Austin laughed. “The wet naked guy is telling me it’s cold.”
Luke couldn’t help smiling. “Yes, well. I have a high tolerance for the cold.”
They stared at each other. Luke watched the questions in Austin’s eyes melt into a white-hot lust, and was grateful. He wasn’t ready to tell Austin about his shifter abilities. Not yet. When Austin took that final step forward and folded Luke into his arms, Luke went gladly.
“Luke,” Austin breathed, his lips just brushing Luke’s cheek. “Christ, I need you so damn bad.”
Threading a hand through Austin’s hair, Luke kissed him hard, darting his tongue into Austin’s mouth. “Come to my cabin with me.”
Austin groaned, arching his neck so Luke could nibble it. “What if someone sees us going to your cabin? I don’t want you to get in trouble. He’ll hurt you.”
Austin’s protectiveness warmed Luke right to his toes. Smiling, he kissed Austin’s jaw. “Father doesn’t put a guard on my cabin when we’re on board the ship. His cabin’s on the upper deck, and we shouldn’t run into anyone on the way. Most of the crew are sleeping. Only the night bridge crew is on duty right now.”
Slipping his knee between Austin’s legs, Luke rubbed his bare thigh against Austin’s crotch. The sweet little whimper Austin let out made Luke want to throw him to the deck and have him right there. “Please, Austin. I need you.” Luke bit Austin’s neck, tongue flicking over the skin between his teeth. “Make love to me. Please. Please.”
In answer, Austin captured Luke’s mouth in a fierce kiss, one hand cupping the back of his head and the other firmly around his waist. “You don’t have to beg me. Let’s go.”
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Bittersweet - Sneak Peek
A sneak peek at my upcoming m/m story - Bittersweet. Coming SOON (Dammit) from Aspen Mountain Press (ebook) and as part of the Hot Comfort anthology from ManLove Romance Press.
Unedited but I hope you enjoy it.
————————————-
Aha! A parking spot right on the street in Freemont. That was rarer than three dry Spring days in row. David pulled his little Mazda into the open space with a sigh of relief. Chris said she’d promised to be there to pick up the naughty chocolates at six and it was already a little after that. He’d rushed out of the office as fast as he could after getting her frantic phone call but being waylaid by a co-worker along the way had cut things very close to the designated pick up time.
He hopped out of the car, taking advantage of a brief gap in the street traffic and raced over to the ominously quiet-looking shop. A glance at the hours listed on the glass door showed that they closed at four p.m. on Sundays. The lights were still on but no one seemed to be inside.
“Dammit!” How was he supposed to pick up something at six when the shop closed at four?
Ripping his cell phone out of its holster, he stabbed the keys to call Chris. Just as he heard the phone begin to ring through, he saw movement in the back of the shop. A powerfully built man came out of a back room and came around the display case, wiping his hands on a towel. David couldn’t help staring as the man walked toward the door.
A long-sleeved black t-shirt clung to the heavy muscles that bunched and flexed beneath it. Worn black jeans snugly fitted the lean hips and thick thighs, with black harness boots finishing out the other man’s outfit. Everything that turned David on, wrapped up in one bad boy package. Not at all what he’d expected to find working in a chocolate shop.
David glanced back up the sexy man’s body again and looked through the glass door into the most amazing pair of steel grey eyes edged with the lines of a man who knew how to smile and did so often. Goosebumps erupted on his arms and he swallowed convulsively. Holy crap, this was every wet dream he’d ever had come to life. The white paper hairnet wasn’t quite in keeping with the rest of him, though. Not that it deterred his now throbbing cock.
Hell, if his luck ran true to form, the sexy-as-hell man would be decidedly straight and he didn’t want to get on Chris’ bad side by risking her chocolate fix. She might be his best friend but she had a temper he’d rather not run afoul of.
When a tanned hand reached out to flip the door’s deadbolt, just the edge of a colorful tattoo peeked out from under the black shirt cuff. If possible, David’s cock got even harder. Just what ink lay under that dark cotton? He forced himself to stop staring at the man and pasted a shaky smile on his face as the door swung open.
“Hi, I’m David Sterling, here to pick up an order for Chris Mortenson. I hope I’m not too late or she’s gonna kill me and she’ll make sure it hurts.”
The amazing smell of chocolate seemed to explode over him in a rush through the shop’s doorway. He savored the rich smell. One deep breath, then another and his eyes drifted closed in ecstasy.
A laugh, as dark and rich as the smell of the shop, sent a shiver up his spine and Dave’s eyes snapped back open. His cheeks grew hot with the blush he’d never learned to stifle.
The other man tugged off the hairnet to reveal curly black hair in a riot of disarray, as if fingers had been run through it over and over.
“Come on in. I’d hate to be the cause of your death.” The husky voice was laced with humor. “I’m Brandon Williams, the owner. Sorry you had a scare but the shop was closed and I was working in the back. I don’t like to leave the door unlocked if no one is out here.”
David stepped into the chocolate shop, still savoring the smells, and tried to will his hard-on away, without much success. The shop was bigger than he expected, with a bit of bordello in the scarlet and black décor but the huge variety of chocolates in the display cabinets was impressive.
Stepping past him, Brandon tossed the hairnet and towel on a table behind the counter and gestured toward three large boxes in the same scarlet and black as the shop décor.
“Here’s the order for Chris. Twenty-five dark chocolate sex toy chests—with toys.” He pulled off the piece of paper taped to the lid of the top box off and set it on the counter with a pen. “Can you sign that you’ve picked them up, please?”
David scrawled his name at the bottom of the form, distracted by the smear of chocolate he’d seen on the other man’s hand. Damned if he didn’t want to lick it off…slowly. Obviously it had been far too long since he’d gotten laid, or even gotten close to being laid. Helping Chris with her wedding had taken a lot of his time the last several months and it was longer than that since he’d found a man he wanted to get close to. Most gay men he met in the normal course of his day were more prissy and metrosexual than he was attracted to. This man was anything but.
He looked up and saw Brandon staring at him with what looked like interest but as soon as the other man saw he was being watched, he hurried to take the signed form and toss it into a tray with some similar forms.
Hmm. Very interesting reaction. Maybe the hunky candy man wasn’t straight after all.
“I’ll put these in the car for you.” The chocolatier picked up the three boxes with no effort at all and nodded for David to precede him to the door. A few steps and David held the shop door open for Brandon, then clicked the remote to unlock his car. Thankful for his spacious trunk, he popped it open and made sure the boxes were settled in, flat on the trunk floor so they wouldn’t tip or fall over while he drove to the party.
Once the trunk was shut again, Brandon held out his large tanned hand to shake David’s. “Hope you and your fiancée have a great party and enjoy the chocolates.”
Stunned, David stood motionless for a moment. Talk about the wrong idea completely. Where did candy man get the idea he was the groom? Maybe there was hope after all.
He reached out for a solid handshake and as Brandon released his hand and turned to go back into the shop, he called out. “You know, I’m not Chris’ fiancé. I’m the Man of Honor. I love Chris but she’s my best friend. I’m just not into dating women.”
Laughing at the stunned look on Brandon’s face, he waved as he drove away.
Unedited but I hope you enjoy it.
————————————-
Aha! A parking spot right on the street in Freemont. That was rarer than three dry Spring days in row. David pulled his little Mazda into the open space with a sigh of relief. Chris said she’d promised to be there to pick up the naughty chocolates at six and it was already a little after that. He’d rushed out of the office as fast as he could after getting her frantic phone call but being waylaid by a co-worker along the way had cut things very close to the designated pick up time.
He hopped out of the car, taking advantage of a brief gap in the street traffic and raced over to the ominously quiet-looking shop. A glance at the hours listed on the glass door showed that they closed at four p.m. on Sundays. The lights were still on but no one seemed to be inside.
“Dammit!” How was he supposed to pick up something at six when the shop closed at four?
Ripping his cell phone out of its holster, he stabbed the keys to call Chris. Just as he heard the phone begin to ring through, he saw movement in the back of the shop. A powerfully built man came out of a back room and came around the display case, wiping his hands on a towel. David couldn’t help staring as the man walked toward the door.
A long-sleeved black t-shirt clung to the heavy muscles that bunched and flexed beneath it. Worn black jeans snugly fitted the lean hips and thick thighs, with black harness boots finishing out the other man’s outfit. Everything that turned David on, wrapped up in one bad boy package. Not at all what he’d expected to find working in a chocolate shop.
David glanced back up the sexy man’s body again and looked through the glass door into the most amazing pair of steel grey eyes edged with the lines of a man who knew how to smile and did so often. Goosebumps erupted on his arms and he swallowed convulsively. Holy crap, this was every wet dream he’d ever had come to life. The white paper hairnet wasn’t quite in keeping with the rest of him, though. Not that it deterred his now throbbing cock.
Hell, if his luck ran true to form, the sexy-as-hell man would be decidedly straight and he didn’t want to get on Chris’ bad side by risking her chocolate fix. She might be his best friend but she had a temper he’d rather not run afoul of.
When a tanned hand reached out to flip the door’s deadbolt, just the edge of a colorful tattoo peeked out from under the black shirt cuff. If possible, David’s cock got even harder. Just what ink lay under that dark cotton? He forced himself to stop staring at the man and pasted a shaky smile on his face as the door swung open.
“Hi, I’m David Sterling, here to pick up an order for Chris Mortenson. I hope I’m not too late or she’s gonna kill me and she’ll make sure it hurts.”
The amazing smell of chocolate seemed to explode over him in a rush through the shop’s doorway. He savored the rich smell. One deep breath, then another and his eyes drifted closed in ecstasy.
A laugh, as dark and rich as the smell of the shop, sent a shiver up his spine and Dave’s eyes snapped back open. His cheeks grew hot with the blush he’d never learned to stifle.
The other man tugged off the hairnet to reveal curly black hair in a riot of disarray, as if fingers had been run through it over and over.
“Come on in. I’d hate to be the cause of your death.” The husky voice was laced with humor. “I’m Brandon Williams, the owner. Sorry you had a scare but the shop was closed and I was working in the back. I don’t like to leave the door unlocked if no one is out here.”
David stepped into the chocolate shop, still savoring the smells, and tried to will his hard-on away, without much success. The shop was bigger than he expected, with a bit of bordello in the scarlet and black décor but the huge variety of chocolates in the display cabinets was impressive.
Stepping past him, Brandon tossed the hairnet and towel on a table behind the counter and gestured toward three large boxes in the same scarlet and black as the shop décor.
“Here’s the order for Chris. Twenty-five dark chocolate sex toy chests—with toys.” He pulled off the piece of paper taped to the lid of the top box off and set it on the counter with a pen. “Can you sign that you’ve picked them up, please?”
David scrawled his name at the bottom of the form, distracted by the smear of chocolate he’d seen on the other man’s hand. Damned if he didn’t want to lick it off…slowly. Obviously it had been far too long since he’d gotten laid, or even gotten close to being laid. Helping Chris with her wedding had taken a lot of his time the last several months and it was longer than that since he’d found a man he wanted to get close to. Most gay men he met in the normal course of his day were more prissy and metrosexual than he was attracted to. This man was anything but.
He looked up and saw Brandon staring at him with what looked like interest but as soon as the other man saw he was being watched, he hurried to take the signed form and toss it into a tray with some similar forms.
Hmm. Very interesting reaction. Maybe the hunky candy man wasn’t straight after all.
“I’ll put these in the car for you.” The chocolatier picked up the three boxes with no effort at all and nodded for David to precede him to the door. A few steps and David held the shop door open for Brandon, then clicked the remote to unlock his car. Thankful for his spacious trunk, he popped it open and made sure the boxes were settled in, flat on the trunk floor so they wouldn’t tip or fall over while he drove to the party.
Once the trunk was shut again, Brandon held out his large tanned hand to shake David’s. “Hope you and your fiancée have a great party and enjoy the chocolates.”
Stunned, David stood motionless for a moment. Talk about the wrong idea completely. Where did candy man get the idea he was the groom? Maybe there was hope after all.
He reached out for a solid handshake and as Brandon released his hand and turned to go back into the shop, he called out. “You know, I’m not Chris’ fiancé. I’m the Man of Honor. I love Chris but she’s my best friend. I’m just not into dating women.”
Laughing at the stunned look on Brandon’s face, he waved as he drove away.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Pride High cover art
Without further ado, here it is! The completed cover for an upcoming issue of Pride High! I was really excited to work with creator Tommy Roddy after discovering the series at last year's Comic Con, and of course I had a blast working on the art.
For those of you not familiar with Pride High, head on over to the website and read the issues right now! It's a fun series about life, friendship, and super-powered teens in a gay-straight alliance at their high school. The characters are all wonderful, and I love the book's positive message. You won't be disappointed! :D
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Good Boys Don't, But Mine Do…Usually
When I was reading romance by the boxful in the eighties, it seemed to me that the first sex scene always happened in chapter four. In fact, I remember a friend saying she was just going to write a book called Chapter Four, and it would only be the love scenes without all the other build up. I guess she wasn’t a fan of sexual tension.
Sexual tension can be amazing in a romance, when it springs from the core beliefs of the characters and not from constant artificial interruptions (doorbells, phone calls, bodies through the ceiling). If it becomes the be-all, end-all of the characters’ relationship, once they “do it,” it’s all downhill from there. But I’m not talking about Moonlighting, am I?
While I love reading sexual tension in a romance, as a rule, I don’t write it. As one of my friends is fond of pointing out—not the one with a passion for chapter four—“Women need a reason; men just need a place.”
An important bulletin from the Department of Duh: Sex is fun. With a little experience and a good partner, sex can be holy-crap-I-found-religion amazing. That’s all the reason my characters need to find each other hot and get off. The fun (for me as a writer) comes afterward, finding reasons for them to do it again, helping them to an awareness of their connection and giving them realistic reasons why they can't have their HEA right now.
That brings me to my WIP. I really didn’t plan it, but I’m finding that wonder of wonders, I’m creating sexual tension. But talk about your artificial interruptions! These boys just can’t seem to find a place and time to get off. There are illnesses, location issues, and supply issues. I’m not through chapter four yet, but I’m starting to worry about missing even that benchmark.
My characters are getting a little frustrated and so am I. I guess only time will tell if I’m creating believable, skin-tingling sexual tension leading to religious-experience consummation, or if I’m just leading them on.
Sexual tension can be amazing in a romance, when it springs from the core beliefs of the characters and not from constant artificial interruptions (doorbells, phone calls, bodies through the ceiling). If it becomes the be-all, end-all of the characters’ relationship, once they “do it,” it’s all downhill from there. But I’m not talking about Moonlighting, am I?
While I love reading sexual tension in a romance, as a rule, I don’t write it. As one of my friends is fond of pointing out—not the one with a passion for chapter four—“Women need a reason; men just need a place.”
An important bulletin from the Department of Duh: Sex is fun. With a little experience and a good partner, sex can be holy-crap-I-found-religion amazing. That’s all the reason my characters need to find each other hot and get off. The fun (for me as a writer) comes afterward, finding reasons for them to do it again, helping them to an awareness of their connection and giving them realistic reasons why they can't have their HEA right now.
That brings me to my WIP. I really didn’t plan it, but I’m finding that wonder of wonders, I’m creating sexual tension. But talk about your artificial interruptions! These boys just can’t seem to find a place and time to get off. There are illnesses, location issues, and supply issues. I’m not through chapter four yet, but I’m starting to worry about missing even that benchmark.
My characters are getting a little frustrated and so am I. I guess only time will tell if I’m creating believable, skin-tingling sexual tension leading to religious-experience consummation, or if I’m just leading them on.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Turn-about's fair play, right?
So a fortnight ago (and may I just interject that I love any opportunity to use the word "fortnight"?) I posted about a 1993 newspaper article I'd rediscovered. Well, also on that page was an article under the headline "Tying genes to sexuality tool for bias?" That's right. 1993 was when they were looking for the "gay gene". (We won't go into my feelings on that. Really. We don't want to open that can of worms when I've had only half of my first cuppa java for the day.) Well, following the old saying that turn-about is fair play, a friend just happened to send me a link to this video. Enjoy.
I want to work for the Pink Tiger Research Institute. ;)
I want to work for the Pink Tiger Research Institute. ;)
Monday, March 2, 2009
Start of a new week, and another year
Happy Monday Morning!
Today I turn another year older. That doesn't really upset me as it does some of my friends the same age. It's a bit annoying because I'm closer to 40 rather than 30 now. LOL But really, the important thing is that I rarely feel my age. ^-^
I've finally finished the first draft to Dakota Knight's story. (Readers meet him in my holiday Fling from Loose-Id: A Gift Worth Sharing) I've pair him with a younger man, Brice. A man that Dakota is hired so that his first experience with a man is a memoriable one. Who knew love would rear its pretty little head and cause havoc on their lives. *evil laugh*
Thought I'd drop off an excerpt from the story. (Remember, this is still in the editing stages and I'm not perfect, so there may be some grammar mistakes and who knows what else) I'm off to spend the day with my husband.
Pending title: Never Too Late
(Note: This excerpt contains graphic language and details of sex between two men)
“So I can start with a little kissing.” Brice braved the words as he moved closer to Dakota and lowered his head so their lips brushed.
“Yes,” Dakota hissed.
Swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat, Brice continued with the light kisses, across Dakota’s lips, cheeks, and jaw. Every time he stopped on Dakota’s lips, they would part and allow their tongues to meet in a hesitant dance.
Brice laid his hands on Dakota’s shoulders where his fingers automatically started caressing and browse the wonderful muscles that they were becoming familiar with.
“Kiss me,” Dakota whispered.
“I am.” It was Brice’s turn to smile like a Cheshire cat.
Dakota growled and Brice pulled back. He was right. With frustration, Dakota’s eyes had darkened, almost black, but held different gleam than just lust. His expression was stiffer than when filled with desire. His jaw also ticked a couple of times as if he was clenching his teeth.
“What?”
Brice shook his head. He really wanted this man in such a wicked way. “Nothing.” His hands smoothed upward to frame Dakota’s face. The man was beautiful. There were faint lines at the corner of his eyes where his age was becoming apparent. Yet, there was a lot of life left in this man. It easily shone through those unique dark green eyes. There was also something in them that Brice couldn’t quite comprehend. It made Brice think of a puzzle. One of a magnificent scene, but still there was a piece missing to make it complete.
Dakota took the lead by lifting his hands to frame his head before pulling Brice down again and kissing deeper, longer, and exuding a ton of sexual appeal. Brice easily fell into the fog of desire.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he was dragged out of their make-out session when Dakota took a hand in his and dropped the tube of lube in his palm. Pulling back, chest heaving and about to scream with sexual frustration, amaze how quickly Dakota had turned the tables on him. Brice looked down at the plastic waiting for his mind to comprehend what it was.
Dakota had lain on his back. “Lie beside me.”
Brice nodded and found it more difficult than he originally thought with his dick tenting the towel still on his waist and his movements jerky from excitement. Once he was settled on Dakota’s right side, he popped the lid of the tube.
“Just enough to get you started. You can always add more as you go along if it’s needed.” Dakota said as he nipped at Brice’s collarbone which shot shocks of tremors through his body.
He couldn’t speak for the lump had returned again. So he nodded and spread some of the clear lubricant on two of his fingers. Dakota spread his legs and lifted his hips slightly to give him access.
“Kiss me.” Brice begged as he caressed the tight hole of his lover. He hoped the shaking would stop so he could enjoy the experience.
Lips joined once more, their bodies drifted closer. Dakota’s hands tore at Brice’s towel as fingers searched for his aching dick. Brice moaned as his sure grip found its target. He thought he’d come right then, but as if reading his mind, Dakota squeezed tightly on the base of his dick and managed to tamper the urge.
“Do it,” Dakota ground out.
Carefully, Brice inserted a finger into Dakota’s ass. The muscles resisted at first, but quickly relaxed around his finger as Dakota moaned. He pulled back and stared into his lover’s beautiful face that exuded pleasure.
“More?” Brice wiggled his finger so it brushed against Dakota’s prostate.
Dakota bucked his hips twice and breathed out a yes.
Feeling a rush of pleasure, Brice bent so he could tongue the tip of Dakota’s dick as he slowly moved his finger in and out of his ass. He sucked a good amount of the length into his mouth just as he slipped another finger in.
“Yes, Brice.” Dakota writhed. “Scissor your fingers. Stretch me. Help me get ready for your cock.”
Brice trembled with excitement at those words. He ached to fill Dakota. Gone was the nervousness, replaced by an insatiable need of what was to come. He forced himself to slow down and do as Dakota instructed. As much as he longed to do this, he wouldn’t cause harm to Dakota. Being with him wasn’t worth the pain that could cause.
He sucked Dakota, experimenting with a few tongue strokes he hadn’t tried earlier. All the while, his fingers worked in and out of Dakota’s body, mimicking what he wanted to do with his dick and preparing him for the next step.
“Enough,” Dakota gasped and pushed Brice’s head away. “Any more of that and I’ll explode.”
Brice stopped his movements and smiled. “Isn’t that the point of this?”
Dakota let loose a low, succulent growl, shook his head, and moved so that Brice’s fingers withdrew from him.
“The point is for you to fuck me.”
Dakota’s crude words echoed in Brice’s head as he watched his lover turn to his hands and knees, ass beckoning him.
Today I turn another year older. That doesn't really upset me as it does some of my friends the same age. It's a bit annoying because I'm closer to 40 rather than 30 now. LOL But really, the important thing is that I rarely feel my age. ^-^
I've finally finished the first draft to Dakota Knight's story. (Readers meet him in my holiday Fling from Loose-Id: A Gift Worth Sharing) I've pair him with a younger man, Brice. A man that Dakota is hired so that his first experience with a man is a memoriable one. Who knew love would rear its pretty little head and cause havoc on their lives. *evil laugh*
Thought I'd drop off an excerpt from the story. (Remember, this is still in the editing stages and I'm not perfect, so there may be some grammar mistakes and who knows what else) I'm off to spend the day with my husband.
Pending title: Never Too Late
(Note: This excerpt contains graphic language and details of sex between two men)
“So I can start with a little kissing.” Brice braved the words as he moved closer to Dakota and lowered his head so their lips brushed.
“Yes,” Dakota hissed.
Swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat, Brice continued with the light kisses, across Dakota’s lips, cheeks, and jaw. Every time he stopped on Dakota’s lips, they would part and allow their tongues to meet in a hesitant dance.
Brice laid his hands on Dakota’s shoulders where his fingers automatically started caressing and browse the wonderful muscles that they were becoming familiar with.
“Kiss me,” Dakota whispered.
“I am.” It was Brice’s turn to smile like a Cheshire cat.
Dakota growled and Brice pulled back. He was right. With frustration, Dakota’s eyes had darkened, almost black, but held different gleam than just lust. His expression was stiffer than when filled with desire. His jaw also ticked a couple of times as if he was clenching his teeth.
“What?”
Brice shook his head. He really wanted this man in such a wicked way. “Nothing.” His hands smoothed upward to frame Dakota’s face. The man was beautiful. There were faint lines at the corner of his eyes where his age was becoming apparent. Yet, there was a lot of life left in this man. It easily shone through those unique dark green eyes. There was also something in them that Brice couldn’t quite comprehend. It made Brice think of a puzzle. One of a magnificent scene, but still there was a piece missing to make it complete.
Dakota took the lead by lifting his hands to frame his head before pulling Brice down again and kissing deeper, longer, and exuding a ton of sexual appeal. Brice easily fell into the fog of desire.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he was dragged out of their make-out session when Dakota took a hand in his and dropped the tube of lube in his palm. Pulling back, chest heaving and about to scream with sexual frustration, amaze how quickly Dakota had turned the tables on him. Brice looked down at the plastic waiting for his mind to comprehend what it was.
Dakota had lain on his back. “Lie beside me.”
Brice nodded and found it more difficult than he originally thought with his dick tenting the towel still on his waist and his movements jerky from excitement. Once he was settled on Dakota’s right side, he popped the lid of the tube.
“Just enough to get you started. You can always add more as you go along if it’s needed.” Dakota said as he nipped at Brice’s collarbone which shot shocks of tremors through his body.
He couldn’t speak for the lump had returned again. So he nodded and spread some of the clear lubricant on two of his fingers. Dakota spread his legs and lifted his hips slightly to give him access.
“Kiss me.” Brice begged as he caressed the tight hole of his lover. He hoped the shaking would stop so he could enjoy the experience.
Lips joined once more, their bodies drifted closer. Dakota’s hands tore at Brice’s towel as fingers searched for his aching dick. Brice moaned as his sure grip found its target. He thought he’d come right then, but as if reading his mind, Dakota squeezed tightly on the base of his dick and managed to tamper the urge.
“Do it,” Dakota ground out.
Carefully, Brice inserted a finger into Dakota’s ass. The muscles resisted at first, but quickly relaxed around his finger as Dakota moaned. He pulled back and stared into his lover’s beautiful face that exuded pleasure.
“More?” Brice wiggled his finger so it brushed against Dakota’s prostate.
Dakota bucked his hips twice and breathed out a yes.
Feeling a rush of pleasure, Brice bent so he could tongue the tip of Dakota’s dick as he slowly moved his finger in and out of his ass. He sucked a good amount of the length into his mouth just as he slipped another finger in.
“Yes, Brice.” Dakota writhed. “Scissor your fingers. Stretch me. Help me get ready for your cock.”
Brice trembled with excitement at those words. He ached to fill Dakota. Gone was the nervousness, replaced by an insatiable need of what was to come. He forced himself to slow down and do as Dakota instructed. As much as he longed to do this, he wouldn’t cause harm to Dakota. Being with him wasn’t worth the pain that could cause.
He sucked Dakota, experimenting with a few tongue strokes he hadn’t tried earlier. All the while, his fingers worked in and out of Dakota’s body, mimicking what he wanted to do with his dick and preparing him for the next step.
“Enough,” Dakota gasped and pushed Brice’s head away. “Any more of that and I’ll explode.”
Brice stopped his movements and smiled. “Isn’t that the point of this?”
Dakota let loose a low, succulent growl, shook his head, and moved so that Brice’s fingers withdrew from him.
“The point is for you to fuck me.”
Dakota’s crude words echoed in Brice’s head as he watched his lover turn to his hands and knees, ass beckoning him.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
March is supposed be a sign of Spring
Happy March! February flew by, as I knew it would. Short month, a holiday weekend in there somewhere (for the Americans, anyway), busy times. March never seems to go as quickly for me. Although perhaps this year will be different, since most of my weekends have already been booked up. I'll be at Epicon next weekend, so anyone else in the vicinity, come on by and say hi! I've got two books that finaled in the GLBT category, Tinder and Tabula Rasa. I'm in fantastic company with the other finalists, and I now know what people mean when they say it was an honor just to be nominated. The other books that are up for the EPPIE award are all amazing.
Tinder, by the way, is now available in print with its sequel, Embers. Check them out and let me know what you think! I'm proud of both stories.
I'll leave you with a little glimpse of spring. These two boys sure look happy to be leaping naked through a field.
Tinder, by the way, is now available in print with its sequel, Embers. Check them out and let me know what you think! I'm proud of both stories.
I'll leave you with a little glimpse of spring. These two boys sure look happy to be leaping naked through a field.
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