I've always written contemporary novels (although I enjoy historicals very much) because there's a comfort in writing what you know. However, the idea of making up a universe that's entirely my own is very enticing. The possibilities are endless, although I'm sure there are some plots that should be avoided since they've already been done before. I'd like to read some sci-fi so I can get an idea of what's out there. So if you have any m/m sci-fi romance recs, please share!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
To Boldly Go
Like many people, I'm totally in love with the new Star Trek reboot. I've seen it twice already and will undoubtedly go back for more before it leaves the cinema. The reason I'm writing about this is that seeing such a terrific sci-fi movie (with such delicious moments between Kirk and Spock, the original slash pairing) has inspired me to start thinking about writing my own sci-fi story.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Round Robin Part XXIV
Cole’s mind raced ahead and made a few assumptions of his own. “Is it possible your boyfriend hired those thugs to whale on you?”
“Anything’s possible. He said he wanted me gone.” Matthew lowered his head, his hands toying with the coffee cup. “Maybe he just decided paying me off was too much trouble.”
“I’m sorry I asked.” The kid had been through hell; yet here Cole was trying to make Matthew feel even worse. It wasn’t as if he wanted to point out the obvious, but he couldn’t help Matthew if he was too busy walking around on eggshells.
“It’s all right. You didn’t bring up anything I hadn’t already thought myself.” Matthew shrugged, still gazing into the cup. “At least now you can see why I need to leave town.”
“Not necessarily.”
Matthew finally looked up, his gaze optimistic but wary. “What do you mean?”
Cole took a sip of his coffee. Although his mind spun with the implications of what he was about to suggest, he couldn’t think of a better idea. “You could stay here. With me.”
“No.” Matthew’s eyes widened. He set his cup down with a solid thump that sloshed black liquid over the rim. “I don’t want to get you involved. Tyler will only send someone else after me.”
Ignoring the mess, Cole slipped out of his chair and knelt in front of Matthew. He gripped Matthew thighs and stared up at the young man, praying he would pay attention to reason. “Listen to me, the Bronson’s might own half the town, but they don’t own everyone in it. You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want. If you want to stay, I can give you a job and a place to stay. You won’t need to turn tricks anymore.”
Matthew shook his head. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”
“I’d like to.” Cole leaned up and pressed a soft kiss over Matthew’s slack lips. “I know you probably won’t believe me when I say, but I like you. I want to help.”
“You don’t have to tell me pretty lies, Cole. I know I’m a fuck up. More importantly, I’m not too proud to take you up on your offer. However, let’s keep the bullshit to a minimum. I’m not stupid enough to believe you’d keep me around for my sparkling wit. I’ll bend over for you right here, right now. You don’t have to pretend you see me as anything more than a whore.”
“Anything’s possible. He said he wanted me gone.” Matthew lowered his head, his hands toying with the coffee cup. “Maybe he just decided paying me off was too much trouble.”
“I’m sorry I asked.” The kid had been through hell; yet here Cole was trying to make Matthew feel even worse. It wasn’t as if he wanted to point out the obvious, but he couldn’t help Matthew if he was too busy walking around on eggshells.
“It’s all right. You didn’t bring up anything I hadn’t already thought myself.” Matthew shrugged, still gazing into the cup. “At least now you can see why I need to leave town.”
“Not necessarily.”
Matthew finally looked up, his gaze optimistic but wary. “What do you mean?”
Cole took a sip of his coffee. Although his mind spun with the implications of what he was about to suggest, he couldn’t think of a better idea. “You could stay here. With me.”
“No.” Matthew’s eyes widened. He set his cup down with a solid thump that sloshed black liquid over the rim. “I don’t want to get you involved. Tyler will only send someone else after me.”
Ignoring the mess, Cole slipped out of his chair and knelt in front of Matthew. He gripped Matthew thighs and stared up at the young man, praying he would pay attention to reason. “Listen to me, the Bronson’s might own half the town, but they don’t own everyone in it. You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want. If you want to stay, I can give you a job and a place to stay. You won’t need to turn tricks anymore.”
Matthew shook his head. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”
“I’d like to.” Cole leaned up and pressed a soft kiss over Matthew’s slack lips. “I know you probably won’t believe me when I say, but I like you. I want to help.”
“You don’t have to tell me pretty lies, Cole. I know I’m a fuck up. More importantly, I’m not too proud to take you up on your offer. However, let’s keep the bullshit to a minimum. I’m not stupid enough to believe you’d keep me around for my sparkling wit. I’ll bend over for you right here, right now. You don’t have to pretend you see me as anything more than a whore.”
New Contest From Amanda Young!
What's up for grabs:
Two lucky people will have their pick of either an autographed paperback or two ebooks. That way, if you've missed any of my digital releases in the last few months, you'll have a shot at selecting specific titles. Or if you already have all my ebooks, you can choose a paperback. Sound good?
How to enter:
All you have to do to throw your name into the hat is be a member of my low-mail announcement group. If you're already a member, then you’re automatically entered to be chosen. Otherwise, you can find my announcement list here:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/AmandaYoung
The prize winners will be chosen at random and announced through my yahoo group on June 1st. Good luck!
Two lucky people will have their pick of either an autographed paperback or two ebooks. That way, if you've missed any of my digital releases in the last few months, you'll have a shot at selecting specific titles. Or if you already have all my ebooks, you can choose a paperback. Sound good?
How to enter:
All you have to do to throw your name into the hat is be a member of my low-mail announcement group. If you're already a member, then you’re automatically entered to be chosen. Otherwise, you can find my announcement list here:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/AmandaYoung
The prize winners will be chosen at random and announced through my yahoo group on June 1st. Good luck!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
The Happy Onion in print
My novel The Happy Onion is scheduled for release in PRINT this coming week from Samhain Publishing. Yay! Read on for the blurb and an excerpt :)© Copyright 2009 Ally Blue
Liberal vegan meets corporate carnivore. What could possibly go wrong?
Thomas Stone has one sacred rule: Don’t Date The Boss. Ever. So when he finds out his new employer is the man he took to bed his first night in town, he’s less than happy. He doesn’t need any more complications in his life, and the way Phil makes him feel definitely qualifies as a complication. Especially since he can’t seem to keep his hands off the man.
Philip Sorrells is thrilled to discover that the new bartender his manager hired for his restaurant, The Happy Onion, is the aggressive little blond he slept with once and can’t forget. Thom is Phil’s wet dream come true, from his angelic face to his fiery temper. For the first time, Phil hears the siren song of monogamy, and he’s tempted to follow it.
When Thom leaves The Happy Onion for a job managing an upscale nightclub, it looks like a chance for him and Phil to be together without the whole boss/employee thing hanging over them. Instead, Thom’s new position brings out previously unsuspected differences in their world views. Differences with the power to destroy their fragile bond.
So how will this nature-loving tree-hugger and corporate-ladder climber navigate this political minefield in the name of love? Very carefully.
(Warning, this book contains bad language, good music, vegan personal care products and lots of hot, dirty mansex.)
As usual on a Friday night, Belial’s Basement was packed and busting at the seams with sexual energy. Philip Sorrells swiveled his stool around and leaned his back against the bar, sipping his second whiskey and watching the parade of horny men strutting past. Or maybe he should say struggling past, since the crowd was so tight any movement at all was an achievement.
Most of the faces were depressingly familiar. Belial’s was a fun, lively place, but there wasn’t much variety here. The regulars and staff all knew each other, in a Biblical way as often as not. For those nights when he wanted someone who already knew his tastes and who he could still be casual friends with later, it was great. Tonight, however, he had a craving for new blood. Or to be more exact, new cock.
“Well, helloooo there, handsome!”
Phil winced at the sound of the familiar singsong from his right. Of all the guys in his personal “wish I hadn’t” file, this was the one Phil always dreaded seeing the most. My own fault. If I’d been paying attention, he wouldn’t have sneaked up on me like that.
“Hi, Brad,” he said, forcing a smile. “How are you?”
“Much better now.” Brad leered, his eyes glowing with lust. Or maybe that was just the weirdly bright green contacts he wore. “So. Phil-licious. Wanna come back to my place and play Hide the Sausage?”
Phil clamped his mouth shut to prevent spewing out the mouthful of whiskey he’d just taken and ended up coughing most of it onto the floor anyway. “Good grief,” he wheezed when he could breathe again. “What are you, twelve?”
Brad tossed a lock of neon pink hair out of his eyes and grinned. “Why, you want me to be twelve?”
Phil set his whiskey glass on the bar before Brad could choke him to death with any other appalling comments. “Go away, Brad.”
Brad crossed his arms and pouted, lower lip sticking out. On a thirty-one-year-old, the effect was a little disturbing. “Well. Who pissed in your coffee this morning?”
Sighing, Phil rubbed his temple with two fingers. After a long day of laying tiles in his new bathroom, all he wanted was to get fucked good and hard by someone other than Brad, then sleep for about ten hours.
He opened his mouth to tell Brad in terms even he could understand to Go The Fuck Away, when across the room the door opened and in walked a vision. Forgetting all about Brad, Phil stood with his mouth hanging open and stared.
All he could see at first was a face, but what a face it was. Heart-shaped, milky pale, with a sweet rosebud mouth and gigantic eyes the color of a tropical lagoon. Gleaming platinum hair fell in straight shoulder-length layers to frame those angelic features.
As the man slipped catlike through the crowd to the bar, Phil caught glimpses of a slim, compact body clad head to toe in black leather. The open vest revealed well-toned arms and chest and a hard, flat belly. A line of fine golden hair bisected the man’s abdomen and disappeared into the snug pants hanging low on his slim hips.
Phil gulped. The urge to run over, fall to his knees and follow that treasure trail with his tongue was hard to resist.
“God, they don’t even bother to card people anymore, looks like.” Brad dug an elbow into Phil’s ribs. “You really are into the young stuff, aren’t you? Close your mouth, before you start catching flies.”
Phil’s eloquent and detailed reply, in which he listed all the reasons the beauty who’d just walked in had to be legal, got lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth. Not wanting to waste any more time on a guy he wasn’t ever going to bed with again in this lifetime, Phil pushed Brad aside and stalked toward the pretty little thing he’d decided he had to get between the sheets as soon as possible. Brad’s declaration that Phil was a sanctimonious bitch barely registered, except to make Phil wonder where a party slut like Brad had learned such a big word.
“Baileys on the rocks,” Blondie shouted to the bartender over the thumping music just as Phil sidled up to him.
“It’s on me,” Phil declared, counting out the right number of bills and laying them on the bar. “And give me a Maker’s Mark,” he added when he realized he’d left his whiskey on the other end of the bar.
Turning sideways, Blondie tilted that adorable face upward and gave Phil a heart-thumping smile. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” Phil smiled back, mentally working out the logistics of getting Blondie’s cock up his ass. The man was at least eight inches shorter than Phil’s six-foot-one-and-three-quarters, but Phil was determined. He had a thing for men who looked delicate and pretty yet were willing and able to fuck him through the mattress.
God, please let him be a top.
Blondie’s smile widened. “What’s your name?”
“I’m…uh, Drake.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Just because he only used his middle name for one-night stands didn’t mean it wasn’t on his birth certificate.
“I’m James. Nice to meet you.” Instead of offering a hand to shake, Blondie—James, rather—raked a sharp, appraising look up and down Phil’s body. “You think we’re gonna fuck, just because you bought me a drink?”
Like the answer to that question wasn’t glaringly obvious in the way “James”—not his real name, Phil would’ve bet, but who was he to complain?—eyed the crotch of Phil’s body-hugging jeans. Phil grinned. “Yep.”
James laughed, the sound full-throated and surprisingly childlike. “You’re right, as it happens.”
“Cool.” Leaning an elbow on the bar, Phil picked up his glass of Maker’s Mark and took a sip. “We should probably talk first.”
James’s pale eyebrows went up. “Yeah? Okay.” He lifted his own glass and took a long swallow, licking the creamy liquid off those gorgeous lips in a marvelously suggestive way. “I’m clean, I always use condoms until I know my partner’s clean too, and before you ask, yes, I really am legal. I’m twenty-six. I prefer to top, but I’ve learned to enjoy getting my ass pounded once in a while. When you look like this, it’s either that or go without a lot of times. What about you? Top, or bottom? And if you want to go bareback tonight, better find someone else.”
Phil gulped half his glass down in an effort to be cool. Crowing in triumph usually didn’t endear him to strangers.
“I can do either, but I’m mostly a bottom.” Setting his drink down again, Phil moved closer to James, catching a whiff of leather, shampoo and musky cologne. “That wasn’t really what I meant about talking, though.”
James gave him an inscrutable look. Draining his glass, he put it down and slipped a knee between Phil’s thighs. Phil could feel the man’s heat even through the leather. He clutched at the bar, fighting a dizzying wave of lust.
“So. Drake.” James stretched an arm up and around Phil’s neck, fingering the thick golden brown braid hanging down his back. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue,” Phil answered, staring down into James’s brilliant blue eyes. “Yours?”
“Black.” Leaning closer, James pinched Phil’s nipple through his threadbare Powerpuff Girls T-shirt. “My favorite movie’s Die Hard, what’s yours?”
Phil licked his lips. “Uh. The Terminator.” His growing lust guided his hands up under James’s leather vest. He pushed it aside and rubbed his thumbs across the little pink nipples, which hardened at his touch. “What’s your favorite TV show?”
“Mythbusters.” Rising on tiptoe, James ran the tip of his tongue up the underside of Phil’s chin, stirring the hairs of his close-cropped beard. “You?”
“Check the T-shirt.” Phil groaned as James’s mouth latched onto his neck and sucked hard. “Shit. Can we go fuck now?”
A chuckle vibrated through James’s chest and into Phil’s. “Your place or my hotel room?”
“Your room close by?” Phil pushed his hips forward so James could feel the erection trapped behind his zipper. “My house is too fucking far.”
“Best Western it is.” James unwound his arm from Phil’s neck and slid both hands down to squeeze his ass. “I already have lube, but I need to buy condoms. Is there a drugstore or something nearby?”
The feel of James’s fingers kneading his butt cheeks made it damn hard for Phil to keep talking, but he managed. “Um. They sell ’em one at a time in the bathroom vending machine, or by the box at the bar. Just ask the bartender.”
James laughed, his head dropping down to rest on Phil’s shoulder. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever been to a bar that sells whole boxes of rubbers before.”
Phil couldn’t answer. Having James’s sweet little body pressed against his was causing all sorts of pleasant havoc inside him. Following a sudden, overwhelming urge, he slid a hand into James’s hair, tugged his head back, bent and kissed him hard.
James responded with gleeful enthusiasm, mouth opening wide and lean hips rocking his erection against Phil’s thigh. Moaning, Phil held James’s head still and swept his tongue between those pretty lips. The creamy sweetness of the Baileys lingered in James’s mouth, almost as intoxicating as his leather-and-lust scent.
Something hard and rounded rubbed Phil’s soft palate as the kiss went deeper, and Phil realized with a jolt that James had a pierced tongue.
Sweet Jesus.
Phil’s knees turned rubbery. He clutched at the lithe body molded to his, hoping to God he wouldn’t embarrass himself by actually swooning.
James pulled back, those big eyes gleaming in the low light. “You like the tongue stud, huh?”
Phil nodded, wiping the sheen of sweat from his brow. “I bet that feels amazing when you go down on a guy.”
“That’s what I’m told.” James’s soft pink lips curved into a filthy smile. His hand snaked between Phil’s legs to cup his balls through his jeans. Phil squeaked, and James chuckled. He stood on tiptoe, pressing his cheek to Phil’s. “I bet you’re dying for me to suck you off, aren’t you? So you can see what that piece of metal feels like on your cock.”
“You better believe it.” Planting both hands on James’s leather-sheathed ass, Phil lifted him right off his feet and kissed him again. “I took a cab here. You got a car?”
“No. Just a bike, and it’s back at the hotel. I walked.” James bit Phil’s lip and wriggled out of his grip. “It’s only a couple of blocks. Let me get the condoms and we can go.”
Phil eyed James’s taut rear hungrily as he bent over the bar to summon the tender. God, the man had the cutest little butt. It was all Phil could do to keep from yanking down those sinfully tight pants to see what it looked like bare.
Patience. In a few minutes, you’ll get to look your fill. Maybe he’ll even let you have a taste.
The thought made Phil’s mouth and his prick both water. He pressed a hand to his crotch, not even bothering to be discreet. Every guy here was looking to get laid, and more than a few of them had paired off and were making out in the middle of the floor, so what was the point in trying to hide his excitement?
James stepped away from the bar, a box of extra-thin Trojans in his hand and a lustful gleam in his eyes. His gaze turned heavy when it zeroed in on Phil touching himself. “Shit. Let’s get out of here. I need to fuck you before I explode.”
Grinning, Phil let James clamp a hand around his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the door. He loved it when the short, cute ones took charge like that.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Bittersweet is off to line edits
Just a brief update to let you all know Bittersweet is done with content editing and has been sent off to the line editor. This means it's closer to coming out and so is Hot Comforts!
This story has been the biggest trial and tribulation so far - I just hope people like it!
This story has been the biggest trial and tribulation so far - I just hope people like it!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Beyond DutyIn The Edge of Desperation
by James Buchanan
E-book and Print available through MLR Press
Buy Link: e-Book http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-theedgeofdesperation-16233-145.html
Print: http://www.amazon.com/Edge-Desperation-James-Buchanan/dp/1608200426/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1240774464&sr=1-1
Over what can love and lust win? Can they win over betrayal? Espionage? Instability? Overthrowing a monarchy? James Buchanan and Jason Edding bring us two stories spanning the universe. Jason continues the Dark Robe Society's story; Jack and Edge return and bring each other and us to the edge again while Toren and Tees share more than a common goal. James introduces us to Alad and Hirah, both out searching for something when they meet, are they the end of searching for each other? All the heroes are on an edge, but is it The Edge of Desperation?
Excerpt:
Nealgalt, Xuyi Sector
Quad Cycle 4, Pay Cycle 6, Patrol 4, Day 36
18:65hours army-standard
Gray mist undulated around him and Alad hunkered into his greatcoat, cursing the government, the military, the enemy, religion and pretty much anyone else he could blame for stranding him on this rock in the skanky armpit of the far side of the universe. He'd beg for sun, but none existed here, at least not in this season. Perpetual overcast served up with sides of absolute darkness and intermittent twilight haunted his days. He'd be so stoked when he found a ride off this shit-pit.
Alad stepped from slick twisted root to twisted root, a winding, treacherous and living shortcut from one ramshackle walkway to another. Things slithered through the oily water below. Tumbledown bars, whorehouses and low rent lodgings twisted off in dizzying directions, their location due more to where infrequent patches of solid land could be found than actual planning. All of it castoff MDU and MTO prefabs destined for the scrap heap, salvaged and pressed into service to make up the eyesore known as Desperation Alley—the no-man's land between base and the up-rank civilian settlements. Missing panels patched by biopolymer sheets added off-color dissonance to the grays and muted blue buildings. Shadows flitted behind window openings covered with NatuResin tarps. Here and there, outmoded and damaged shipping containers served as pod barracks: racks of one-bod and two-bod bunks bracketed floor to ceiling for those too drunk or burning to stumble back to base.
Above him, a canopy of steel blue foliage almost three stadion deep hid the makers of all the various scurrying sounds. Large trunks, bleached white by the salts sucked up through the water, supported networks of vines and explosions of flora in colors the human eye couldn't even register. The whole planet washed out into a charcoal rendering of actual living things. Rotting organic material tainted the air with an ever present miasma of decay. Yesterday was spent searching for companies that would have him and his men. The standard hours akin to daylight today dwindled away in the same futile quest and Alad figured tomorrow would dawn on him humping his ass to various commands. Not even a hint of a future appointment graced his horizon. If he didn't land something soon, well he'd have no choice but to tell his men to split up, try to find a rack on their own with some squad down a couple of grunts. Trying to place an entire patrol… hard didn't begin to encompass the problem. Xosh, at this point if some other sergeant expressed interest in his boys, Alad would have gladly let them go on without him.
He'd traded half a month's pay off the bar-code scan in his forearm for a third of a month's pay in local trade chits on the black-market. Alad needed them to buy off information brokers in the cumshaw data pool. Really, if he hadn't needed any lead possible, there was no way he'd step into Desperation Alley right now. All the good tips though, they came out of the scuttlebutt haze floating through taprooms, dice dens and sex parlors.
Alad stepped onto the plank walkway that comprised the misnamed Mandera Blossom Highway and huffed. Various beings, each more disreputable than the next, passed him. Alad debated whether to start the search first or fortify himself with the local version of rot-gut to file the edge off the eventual disappointment. Shoving his hands into the pocket of his greatcoat, he stepped into the flow of traffic and let it sweep him towards the quasi-legal establishments.
Heading toward him and away from Desperation Alley, Alad caught sight of another human. Not that humans were uncommon in this area—pisk, they made up sixty percent of the military troops in the region—but by now most were stationed on bar stools or slop shop benches and planning the night's entertainment.
This guy seemed different. Tall, whip crack lean, his shoulders rolled in a resigned, but still defiant, manner. Black hair shorn in military fashion, longish on top, but buzzed so short it barely rated as fuzz in a halo from above his ears to his neck line, marked him as infantry—what they called the collar cut so that neck armor wouldn't rub. It set off features so sharp a man could cut himself on his chin. His eyes damn near glowed blue-white like eons old ice flows. All the more striking when contrasted with the cinnamon tones of his skin. A cold and reserved air blew off the man… must have been what kept his pupils from melting.
Alad hadn't seen anything that enticing in six patrols.
Waffling, unsure, he paused. He couldn't let his troops down, but xosh, it'd been almost a cycle since Alad allowed himself any real R&R. A little booze-up followed by a little naked bust-up, Alad got hard just working the possibility. The man approached, completely absorbed in whatever drove him from the Alley. Three steps. Two steps. If Alad didn't act soon opportunity would pass him up. As the man started to walk by, Alad decided; he jerked to the side and bumped the man's shoulder. The man stumbled on the slick planks, running up onto the roots of one of the many Handoatoa trees.
"Sorry," Alad mumbled, even though he wasn't a bit remorseful, and offered a hand.
The indignation boiling through those ice blue eyes radiated such frost it burned. After glaring for a moment, the man took the proffered grip and allowed Alad to help him back onto the walkway. Everything from about mid-thigh down dripped water. Shudo! Alad had forgotten that Handoatoa tended to act like sponges and purged sucked up swamp at the slightest bruise.
"You need to watch where you walk," the man spat, "subin!"
No telling who this man was. His bearing, even under insufferable circumstances of being knocked into morass of vomited up swamp water, spoke to rank. Nobody however, except the greenest of the green, wore their confetti into Desperation Alley. Too much of a chance someone would roll you for the decorations. Unwritten protocol dictated that no one asked who was who, either. The most anyone traded over was a first name.
"Yeah, I'm clumsy." He grimaced in mock apology. "Alad," offering up his name as greeting equaled the first tentative step. "Let me buy you a drink to apologize for the damp boots," made up the second.
A hard once over ran up and down Alad's body, those ice colored eyes somehow burning into his gut. "A drink?" This time the words sounded more incredulous than antagonistic. The guy's nostrils flared as if taking in Alad's scent. As the air moved, a slight fluttering of the skin on the right side of the man's nose caught his attention. Xosh, a notch had been cut out of the nasal fold. Alad shivered despite the greatcoat.
Still, the black haired soldier—Alad knew he was a soldier—reeked sex… or maybe fight-lust. Both equaled about the same to Alad. "Yeah, a drink." Pretending indifference, Alad turned his eyes away. He drew in a deep breath, touched his index finger to his left cheek and slowly brushed it toward his ear. "To apologize for being… clumsy." The thumb up the bridge of your nose meant you were indiscriminate about your choice of partners. Pinky on your right eye and you wanted the opposite sex. Alad had indicated he wouldn't be opposed to a hookup with this man, in a way that let everyone pretend nobody suggested anything about sex. Nobody cared about your choice in partners. Saving face in the event of a refusal though, everybody cared about that.
Buy Link: e-Book http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-theedgeofdesperation-16233-145.html
Print: http://www.amazon.com/Edge-Desperation-James-Buchanan/dp/1608200426/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1240774464&sr=1-1
Round Robin XXII
Last part here
“What do you want to hear? That I’ve been selling my ass on the streets since I was sixteen?”
Cole knew Matthew was trying to provoke him, probably into tossing him out and validating Matthew’s twisted view of humanity. Cole had steeled himself for hearing something like that, but the rush of anger—not at Matthew—but at whoever had forced him to that was still surprising. In as mild a tone as he could manage, Cole said, “You could start with tonight. Do you know why those kids came after you?”
Matthew shook his head, but Cole just waited. Finally Matthew shrugged. “I thought Tyler might have sent them.”
“Who’s Tyler?”
“I thought he was my boyfriend.” Matthew gave a hollow laugh. “You’d think I’d have learned something. Turns out I was just his whore. He said he’d give me money if I just disappeared and didn’t tell anyone. He was supposed to meet me.”
“This Tyler have a last name?”
Matthew fixed Cole with a steady gaze as if daring him to doubt what he was going to say. “Bronson.”
“Holy shit.” Cole thought he’d been ready for anything. Bronson. You couldn’t live in this town and not know that name. Hell of a family to cross. Money, yeah. But Tyler’s uncle was a U.S Senator and his father—Oh shit.
“I’m guessing that you mean the Tyler Bronson whose dad is the head of PureLife Ministries. The one with the conversion camps for gays.”
“Bingo.” But Matthew’s voice was shaky and he couldn’t hold the smile.
“What do you want to hear? That I’ve been selling my ass on the streets since I was sixteen?”
Cole knew Matthew was trying to provoke him, probably into tossing him out and validating Matthew’s twisted view of humanity. Cole had steeled himself for hearing something like that, but the rush of anger—not at Matthew—but at whoever had forced him to that was still surprising. In as mild a tone as he could manage, Cole said, “You could start with tonight. Do you know why those kids came after you?”
Matthew shook his head, but Cole just waited. Finally Matthew shrugged. “I thought Tyler might have sent them.”
“Who’s Tyler?”
“I thought he was my boyfriend.” Matthew gave a hollow laugh. “You’d think I’d have learned something. Turns out I was just his whore. He said he’d give me money if I just disappeared and didn’t tell anyone. He was supposed to meet me.”
“This Tyler have a last name?”
Matthew fixed Cole with a steady gaze as if daring him to doubt what he was going to say. “Bronson.”
“Holy shit.” Cole thought he’d been ready for anything. Bronson. You couldn’t live in this town and not know that name. Hell of a family to cross. Money, yeah. But Tyler’s uncle was a U.S Senator and his father—Oh shit.
“I’m guessing that you mean the Tyler Bronson whose dad is the head of PureLife Ministries. The one with the conversion camps for gays.”
“Bingo.” But Matthew’s voice was shaky and he couldn’t hold the smile.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Round Robin Part XXI
Part XX here
Matthew swallowed hard, stalling for time, trying to clear the unexpected knot from his vocal chords. When he did, the result wasn't anything he'd expected to say. "How does a guy who runs an art supply store get such ripped abs?"
Cole laughed and Matthew could feel his cheeks flushing. What the fuck? He didn't blush! He'd given that up at the age of eight when getting caught kissing his best friend—his male best friend—behind the swing set on the school playground hadn't brought even a hint of embarrassment. Fortunately, the teaching assistant who'd caught them had shrugged it off as innocent curiosity and never told his aunt and uncle. A rare stroke of luck in Matthew's life.
"I don't know if you've heard," Cole said, his laughter calmed to a small chuckle, "but they have these places called gyms. Anyone can join. It's amazing."
Matthew tried to pass off his blunder with his old blustering front. Even to his own ears, it fell flat. A lame imitation of his street-savvy persona. "Didn't take you for a gym kind of guy."
This time Cole's mirth was nowhere evident. "You've made a lot of mistaken assumptions about me." He headed back towards his bedroom, and Matthew was sorry to think he'd be covering up those muscles with clothing. Although he was willing to bet Cole would look just as hot in jeans and a tight, white t-shirt. Sure it was cliché, but there was a reason the image endured.
"You want some more coffee?" Matthew asked before Cole disappeared behind his door.
Cole shot him a quirk of a smile that Matthew couldn't read. Damn it! What was it about Cole that sent to shit all his well-honed skills at reading people?
"My mug's on the bathroom counter. Thanks."
Wondering exactly when he'd been domesticated—and why he liked it so fucking much—Matthew retrieved the mug and returned with it to the kitchen. He refilled it, poured himself a coffee, and sat at the table to drink it. The kitchen was like something out of one of those home magazines his aunt always had scattered on the coffee table. The sunshine pouring through the window in the little dining nook turned the creamy walls a cheerful yellow and reflected brightly off the stainless steel appliances. The wall over the sink and behind the range were inlayed with painted tiles. The trim around the top of the walls was painted dark blue. It was a bachelor's kitchen, all right, but a clean and cozy one. Matthew imagined what it would be like to watch Cole cooking. Matthew would lean a shoulder against the fridge and Cole would be at the stove, stirring pots of pasta sauce or something, and they'd talk about their days like people did on TV shows. A smile curved the corner of his mouth, and then his lips turned down just as suddenly. Domestic bliss was not Matthew's strong suit. And once he'd given up those answers Cole had asked for, there wasn't much chance Cole would let him finish his coffee, let alone stay for dinner.
"You find some breakfast?"
Cole's voice in the doorway snapped Matthew from his thoughts. The t-shirt he wore was blue, not white, but the jeans were as tight as Matthew had hoped. He hid his interest behind his coffee mug. "Didn't look."
"No? If it were me, I'd've been snooping all through the cupboards. I'm starving." Cole picked up his coffee and with his free hand opened a cabinet. "Cereal okay? Or there's bread if you want toast."
Matthew's guts twisted. The friendly chatter, the host and guest routine they were playing… It was all a sham and he was disgusted with both himself and Cole for perpetuating it. "Quit it."
"Quit what?"
"I'm not stupid. You're jerking me around. You want answers? I'll tell you. But don't act like we're all buddy-buddy and shit."
Cole turned to him and leaned one hip against the counter, his quest for food abandoned. His expression was cool. "You're still all about mistaken assumptions. But okay. Talk."
Matthew swallowed hard, stalling for time, trying to clear the unexpected knot from his vocal chords. When he did, the result wasn't anything he'd expected to say. "How does a guy who runs an art supply store get such ripped abs?"
Cole laughed and Matthew could feel his cheeks flushing. What the fuck? He didn't blush! He'd given that up at the age of eight when getting caught kissing his best friend—his male best friend—behind the swing set on the school playground hadn't brought even a hint of embarrassment. Fortunately, the teaching assistant who'd caught them had shrugged it off as innocent curiosity and never told his aunt and uncle. A rare stroke of luck in Matthew's life.
"I don't know if you've heard," Cole said, his laughter calmed to a small chuckle, "but they have these places called gyms. Anyone can join. It's amazing."
Matthew tried to pass off his blunder with his old blustering front. Even to his own ears, it fell flat. A lame imitation of his street-savvy persona. "Didn't take you for a gym kind of guy."
This time Cole's mirth was nowhere evident. "You've made a lot of mistaken assumptions about me." He headed back towards his bedroom, and Matthew was sorry to think he'd be covering up those muscles with clothing. Although he was willing to bet Cole would look just as hot in jeans and a tight, white t-shirt. Sure it was cliché, but there was a reason the image endured.
"You want some more coffee?" Matthew asked before Cole disappeared behind his door.
Cole shot him a quirk of a smile that Matthew couldn't read. Damn it! What was it about Cole that sent to shit all his well-honed skills at reading people?
"My mug's on the bathroom counter. Thanks."
Wondering exactly when he'd been domesticated—and why he liked it so fucking much—Matthew retrieved the mug and returned with it to the kitchen. He refilled it, poured himself a coffee, and sat at the table to drink it. The kitchen was like something out of one of those home magazines his aunt always had scattered on the coffee table. The sunshine pouring through the window in the little dining nook turned the creamy walls a cheerful yellow and reflected brightly off the stainless steel appliances. The wall over the sink and behind the range were inlayed with painted tiles. The trim around the top of the walls was painted dark blue. It was a bachelor's kitchen, all right, but a clean and cozy one. Matthew imagined what it would be like to watch Cole cooking. Matthew would lean a shoulder against the fridge and Cole would be at the stove, stirring pots of pasta sauce or something, and they'd talk about their days like people did on TV shows. A smile curved the corner of his mouth, and then his lips turned down just as suddenly. Domestic bliss was not Matthew's strong suit. And once he'd given up those answers Cole had asked for, there wasn't much chance Cole would let him finish his coffee, let alone stay for dinner.
"You find some breakfast?"
Cole's voice in the doorway snapped Matthew from his thoughts. The t-shirt he wore was blue, not white, but the jeans were as tight as Matthew had hoped. He hid his interest behind his coffee mug. "Didn't look."
"No? If it were me, I'd've been snooping all through the cupboards. I'm starving." Cole picked up his coffee and with his free hand opened a cabinet. "Cereal okay? Or there's bread if you want toast."
Matthew's guts twisted. The friendly chatter, the host and guest routine they were playing… It was all a sham and he was disgusted with both himself and Cole for perpetuating it. "Quit it."
"Quit what?"
"I'm not stupid. You're jerking me around. You want answers? I'll tell you. But don't act like we're all buddy-buddy and shit."
Cole turned to him and leaned one hip against the counter, his quest for food abandoned. His expression was cool. "You're still all about mistaken assumptions. But okay. Talk."
Monday, May 11, 2009
Round Robin Part XX
I think I have the number correct. It's been years since I've dealt with roman numerals ^-^
I hope everyone is having a great week so far (yeah, I know it's only Monday, but I can hope, right?). And happy belated Mother's Day to those who are mothers.
This isn't really long, but I'm busy with edits and housework. Good combo, huh? So this was a nice little break.
Part XIV here
Matthew watched Cole walk away. Holy shit! He couldn’t look away, his gaze glued to the ripple of muscle as every graceful step took him away. And that ass. Its smooth round, fullness called to be caressed and worshiped. Not to mention the hard cock the other side of his body sported.
When the bathroom door shut, Matthew realized his mouth hung open and he’d stopped breathing. Shaking away the stunned response, Cole’s words sunk in.
Answers.
He had two options and he knew he had to choose one quickly. He could take off now. There was a bus stop not quite a mile away. He’d made note of passing it last night. This choice had him moving on with his life, wherever it may lead him, despite the screwed up happenings the past couple of days. Living a lonely and often dangerous life hustling for money or whatever he could get, because going back to his aunt and uncle was completely out of the question. Of course, taking that route also had him never seeing Cole again or exploring these outlandish emotions the man brought forth.
His other choice was to stay and answer whatever questions Cole asked. Not a pleasant thought, which made leaving very tempting. So what was holding him here?
The kiss.
Matthew knew it but wasn’t quite ready to fully admit it just yet. Remembering how it felt to have Cole’s tongue devouring his mouth with the promise of much more was more than Matthew’s poor deprived mind could accept. He still shook with the need for more when he thought of how unselfish Cole had been to him in the store, giving him pleasure, yet not taking any for himself. Were there really men that noble in the world? Or was Cole a one of a kind?
Apparently, Matthew took too long to make his decision when the bathroom door opened and Cole stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist and drops of water falling from his hair to slide down that gloriously muscled chest. His fingers flexed as he held back the urge to reach out and trail the water’s path as it traveled down over lickable abs.
“Still here I see.” Cole’s lips twitched as if he was trying to suppress a smile.
I hope everyone is having a great week so far (yeah, I know it's only Monday, but I can hope, right?). And happy belated Mother's Day to those who are mothers.
This isn't really long, but I'm busy with edits and housework. Good combo, huh? So this was a nice little break.
Part XIV here
Matthew watched Cole walk away. Holy shit! He couldn’t look away, his gaze glued to the ripple of muscle as every graceful step took him away. And that ass. Its smooth round, fullness called to be caressed and worshiped. Not to mention the hard cock the other side of his body sported.
When the bathroom door shut, Matthew realized his mouth hung open and he’d stopped breathing. Shaking away the stunned response, Cole’s words sunk in.
Answers.
He had two options and he knew he had to choose one quickly. He could take off now. There was a bus stop not quite a mile away. He’d made note of passing it last night. This choice had him moving on with his life, wherever it may lead him, despite the screwed up happenings the past couple of days. Living a lonely and often dangerous life hustling for money or whatever he could get, because going back to his aunt and uncle was completely out of the question. Of course, taking that route also had him never seeing Cole again or exploring these outlandish emotions the man brought forth.
His other choice was to stay and answer whatever questions Cole asked. Not a pleasant thought, which made leaving very tempting. So what was holding him here?
The kiss.
Matthew knew it but wasn’t quite ready to fully admit it just yet. Remembering how it felt to have Cole’s tongue devouring his mouth with the promise of much more was more than Matthew’s poor deprived mind could accept. He still shook with the need for more when he thought of how unselfish Cole had been to him in the store, giving him pleasure, yet not taking any for himself. Were there really men that noble in the world? Or was Cole a one of a kind?
Apparently, Matthew took too long to make his decision when the bathroom door opened and Cole stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist and drops of water falling from his hair to slide down that gloriously muscled chest. His fingers flexed as he held back the urge to reach out and trail the water’s path as it traveled down over lickable abs.
“Still here I see.” Cole’s lips twitched as if he was trying to suppress a smile.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Just what every mother wants on Mother's Day...
A little gay porn! I've got two nice little releases just in time for Mom's Day.
The first is Chrome, a collection of short stories all focusing around one shiny orange Fiat. Three little stories follow the car through its life and its different owners who all have a couple of things in common: they're boys, they like other boys, and they like the gleam and glitter of chrome. Check it out, it's an easy and fun read for only $2.49.
The second story is a re-write and re-release from an anthology a few years back, but I overhauled it and now it's available as a standalone. Ethereal is a quick, hot little read about what happens when a nursing student discovers a patient in his hospital is unconscious and beautiful. Jordan brings home stories to his lover Scott, and the two of them heat up their love life a bit with fantasies of the mysterious patient. Fast and hot with a bit of naughty thrown in, what more could you want for $1.29?
And! Just because I love you, through tonight at midnight (EST), get 15% off your purchases at Torquere Press.
The coupon code is mom09 and is good on all Torquere Press ebooks purchased at www.torquerebooks.com from now until midnight (est) Sunday May 10, 2009. Have fun!
And thanks, Mom. <3
The first is Chrome, a collection of short stories all focusing around one shiny orange Fiat. Three little stories follow the car through its life and its different owners who all have a couple of things in common: they're boys, they like other boys, and they like the gleam and glitter of chrome. Check it out, it's an easy and fun read for only $2.49.
The second story is a re-write and re-release from an anthology a few years back, but I overhauled it and now it's available as a standalone. Ethereal is a quick, hot little read about what happens when a nursing student discovers a patient in his hospital is unconscious and beautiful. Jordan brings home stories to his lover Scott, and the two of them heat up their love life a bit with fantasies of the mysterious patient. Fast and hot with a bit of naughty thrown in, what more could you want for $1.29?
And! Just because I love you, through tonight at midnight (EST), get 15% off your purchases at Torquere Press.
The coupon code is mom09 and is good on all Torquere Press ebooks purchased at www.torquerebooks.com from now until midnight (est) Sunday May 10, 2009. Have fun!
And thanks, Mom. <3
Thursday, May 7, 2009
To Tweet Or Not To Tweet... That is the question.
Yeah, I'm on Twitter. Not entirely sure why, but eh, it's morbidly fascinating.
I'm still not sure on the allure of the site, to be honest. It's not as intensive as a blog or MySpace or Facebook (or any other networking site). The trick is finding something relatively interesting to say in less than 140 characters. I'm still trying to figure THAT one out.
One thing I do enjoy, though, is finding out who is following me there. A lot of folks find me via LJ, I'm sure, but more, I think, find me via simply searching on Twitter. WHAT they're using in terms of keywords, I haven't the foggiest clue, but it's interesting.
So, what about y'all? Do you twitter? Or, like me, are you still wondering what the whole thing is about?
I'm still not sure on the allure of the site, to be honest. It's not as intensive as a blog or MySpace or Facebook (or any other networking site). The trick is finding something relatively interesting to say in less than 140 characters. I'm still trying to figure THAT one out.
One thing I do enjoy, though, is finding out who is following me there. A lot of folks find me via LJ, I'm sure, but more, I think, find me via simply searching on Twitter. WHAT they're using in terms of keywords, I haven't the foggiest clue, but it's interesting.
So, what about y'all? Do you twitter? Or, like me, are you still wondering what the whole thing is about?
Round Robin XIX
Late but here ya go! Short though. Busy, busy day.
------------------------------------------------------
He woke up to the smell of coffee. Cole cracked an eye open and immediately snapped it shut again when light stabbed him in the retina. Okay, opening his eyes, not an option. But who the hell was making coffee in his house? Cole wracked his brain, wondering if loneliness had finally sent him running into an anonymous fuck or something when a face formed behind his eyelids.
Blond hair. Blue eyes. Round, tight ass. Oh yeah, he remembered now. Turning his head away from the sunlight, Cole opened his eyes again and climbed out of bed. His foot caught in something and he found his rumpled clothes on the floor. Cole had a second to realize that he was feeling the sun's warmth directly on his skin when his bedroom door, already cracked, nudged all the way open.
"Hey Cole, are you aw...oh." Cole snapped his head up at the sound of Matthew's voice and found the younger man's gaze a good deal south of Cole's face. Lean fingers held Cole's favorite mug in a sudden death grip.
A million thoughts shot through Cole's head accompanied by a million actions. Everything from pulling his clothes on to pulling Matthew on his bed and getting him just as naked as he was...but that couldn't happen. He wanted it, shit, his dick was awake and there was no way to hide it.
But with the memory of Matthew came the other memories. So Cole, faking a nonchalance he wasn't even close to really having, walked up to Matthew and gently pried his hot coffee mug from Matthew's fingers.
Wide blue eyes, glazed with hard fought interest, met his. "Cole..." Need wrapped around his name, wrapped around his dick.
Cole took a swallow of coffee and barely felt the burn. "I need a shower." He sipped a little more cautiously this time if only to keep his mouth occupied. Otherwise, he was going to kiss the life out of the pouty mouth right across from him. "And then I think it's time for those answers."
------------------------------------------------------
He woke up to the smell of coffee. Cole cracked an eye open and immediately snapped it shut again when light stabbed him in the retina. Okay, opening his eyes, not an option. But who the hell was making coffee in his house? Cole wracked his brain, wondering if loneliness had finally sent him running into an anonymous fuck or something when a face formed behind his eyelids.
Blond hair. Blue eyes. Round, tight ass. Oh yeah, he remembered now. Turning his head away from the sunlight, Cole opened his eyes again and climbed out of bed. His foot caught in something and he found his rumpled clothes on the floor. Cole had a second to realize that he was feeling the sun's warmth directly on his skin when his bedroom door, already cracked, nudged all the way open.
"Hey Cole, are you aw...oh." Cole snapped his head up at the sound of Matthew's voice and found the younger man's gaze a good deal south of Cole's face. Lean fingers held Cole's favorite mug in a sudden death grip.
A million thoughts shot through Cole's head accompanied by a million actions. Everything from pulling his clothes on to pulling Matthew on his bed and getting him just as naked as he was...but that couldn't happen. He wanted it, shit, his dick was awake and there was no way to hide it.
But with the memory of Matthew came the other memories. So Cole, faking a nonchalance he wasn't even close to really having, walked up to Matthew and gently pried his hot coffee mug from Matthew's fingers.
Wide blue eyes, glazed with hard fought interest, met his. "Cole..." Need wrapped around his name, wrapped around his dick.
Cole took a swallow of coffee and barely felt the burn. "I need a shower." He sipped a little more cautiously this time if only to keep his mouth occupied. Otherwise, he was going to kiss the life out of the pouty mouth right across from him. "And then I think it's time for those answers."
Monday, May 4, 2009
Free M/M Read from Leigh Ellwood
UPDATE: In my haste to make this post, I forgot to post date it for my day to post, which is Saturday. I apologize for intruding on somebody else's day.
Also it was pointed out to me that the link to the book isn't working. It is fixed.
Best, Leigh
As part of an earlier Cinco de Mayo promotion with Phaze Books, I wrote A Daring Twist to distribute as a free read. This short is part of Dareville and M/M erotic - it serves as a prologue of sorts to part of Dare to Dream and the upcoming Daring Red. As far as the universe goes, it's set around the time of Truth or Dare, and more will be explained with the next book. Anyway, hope you like it.
In the meantime, I'm waiting to hear about my membership to the Rainbow Romance Writers chapter of RWA. Fingers crossed.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Round Robin part XVIII
At least I think I got the number right *g*
This is gonna be VERY short, but hopefully coherent LOL. I'm behind on my deadline, as per usual, so trying to get more wordage in tonight. Here goes...
*******
Matthew stood rooted to the spot, an uncomfortable mixture of gratitude and guilt roiling in his gut. Ever since Cole had rescued him, he'd tried to tell himself he didn't care what Cole thought of him. So why the fuck did it take Cole getting pissed off at him for him to realize he did care after all?
Cole reached the Dodge, stopped and shot Matthew an impatient look. "You coming, or what?"
Shit. Matthew swallowed. "Yeah, I'm coming."
He crossed to the car on legs that shook all of a sudden. Cole was already buckled behind the wheel and had the car going by the time Matthew slid into the passenger seat.
They rode in silence for what felt like ages. Several times, Matthew started to speak, then thought better of it. The brooding anger comig from Cole in palpable waves defeated him. Besides, what was there to say? Cole had made it pretty clear where Matthew stood with him.
The really confusing part was, Matthew liked it. He liked that Cole had refused to fuck him, and he liked even more that Cole had laid down the law and told him that if he wanted anything more than a place to crash for the night, he was going to have to give up some of his closely-held secrets.
The relief Matthew felt at the thought of telling Cole his secrets surprised him.
When they pulled up in front of a small house sheltered by huge oak trees, Matthew laid a hand on Cole's arm. "Okay."
Cole looked at him. "Okay what?"
Matthew took a deep breath and blew it out. "Okay, you'll get your answers."
"Good." Cole smiled, and the sight of it made Matthew's stomach flutter. "In the morning. Come on."
Matthew climbed out of the car and followed Cole up the short walkway to the cottage he evidently called home. A yawn nearly split Matthew's skull in half. After the attack, the scare with the cops and the mind-blowing orgasm he'd just had, followed by his decision to tell Cole the truth -- or selected parts of it -- he was exhausted.
He'd decide exactly how much to tell Cole after he'd slept for about twelve hours.
This is gonna be VERY short, but hopefully coherent LOL. I'm behind on my deadline, as per usual, so trying to get more wordage in tonight. Here goes...
*******
Matthew stood rooted to the spot, an uncomfortable mixture of gratitude and guilt roiling in his gut. Ever since Cole had rescued him, he'd tried to tell himself he didn't care what Cole thought of him. So why the fuck did it take Cole getting pissed off at him for him to realize he did care after all?
Cole reached the Dodge, stopped and shot Matthew an impatient look. "You coming, or what?"
Shit. Matthew swallowed. "Yeah, I'm coming."
He crossed to the car on legs that shook all of a sudden. Cole was already buckled behind the wheel and had the car going by the time Matthew slid into the passenger seat.
They rode in silence for what felt like ages. Several times, Matthew started to speak, then thought better of it. The brooding anger comig from Cole in palpable waves defeated him. Besides, what was there to say? Cole had made it pretty clear where Matthew stood with him.
The really confusing part was, Matthew liked it. He liked that Cole had refused to fuck him, and he liked even more that Cole had laid down the law and told him that if he wanted anything more than a place to crash for the night, he was going to have to give up some of his closely-held secrets.
The relief Matthew felt at the thought of telling Cole his secrets surprised him.
When they pulled up in front of a small house sheltered by huge oak trees, Matthew laid a hand on Cole's arm. "Okay."
Cole looked at him. "Okay what?"
Matthew took a deep breath and blew it out. "Okay, you'll get your answers."
"Good." Cole smiled, and the sight of it made Matthew's stomach flutter. "In the morning. Come on."
Matthew climbed out of the car and followed Cole up the short walkway to the cottage he evidently called home. A yawn nearly split Matthew's skull in half. After the attack, the scare with the cops and the mind-blowing orgasm he'd just had, followed by his decision to tell Cole the truth -- or selected parts of it -- he was exhausted.
He'd decide exactly how much to tell Cole after he'd slept for about twelve hours.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Artsy Friday
Woohoo! The weekend is here! And for your Friday enjoyment, I thought I'd share a drawing I've been working on for a while. Most of my work tends to be made digitally these days, or at least drawn on paper first and then painted in Photoshop, but I love working with color pencils.
19"x25"
pencils
 |
| Adam |
19"x25"
pencils
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