Ahoy maties! The Wednesday Briefers invite you to join them on a cruise!

Today's the day! We're going to be visiting Beth Wylde, from about 8 am CDT, to talk about the Wednesday Briefers, and to have fun, laughter, flash fiction, and giveaways.

Did I say giveaway?

Yes, there will be prizes! Some will be given individually, by members of the group. And others will be joint gifts - namely three $25 Amazon GC's. But there's a catch!  You have to actually go to the Beth Wylde group to participate.  So what are you waiting for? Haul your ashes over there and have some fun!

But first....

We're going to be posting some special flash fiction that we wrote for the occasion, our group effort. All of these stories take place in the same universe, on the Queen Bee, our gay cruise ship. There will be recurring characters in some of the story, such as the captain or the cruise director. But each story is individual to the writer who wrote it. Each author will post their story on their blog, and also at Beth Wylde.

Here is my story. I call it Raising the Sail. I hope you like it. We plan to take these bits of flash fiction and create an anthology. I'll keep you posted on that. For now, here's my story, I hope you enjoy it. See you at Beth Wylde!

The tension inside the car was as thick as the air outside it. Mississippi in the middle of June ran the gamut from chilly and brisk to hot and sticky. The mid-day sun wasn’t helping the situation any. And neither was the fact the air conditioning had quit running cold twenty minutes after they left home, but there wasn’t time to do anything about that now. They had a plane to catch, places to go. A cruise ship to board.

“Carson, don’t sweat it. Last night... was no big deal. Honestly.”

“I’d rather not talk about it, Terry.” His voice was cool, intentionally unemotional, but he gave himself away by white-knuckling the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the narrow blacktop before them. Living in bumfuck Mississippi, in the rather small town of Bodega, meant driving to Memphis to get to a decent-sized airport. Although the town they lived in was large enough to support businesses of the seedy persuasion, somehow it couldn’t handle having an airport of any magnitude. Go figure.

He tried not to think about the strip club again. Why ruin this cruise that had been virtually dumped into their laps with his own personal issues? Seemed rather self-defeating at best. Terry was a grown man, capable of making his own decisions. He didn’t need Carson to tell him what to do, or how to live his life. If Carson trusted him, it shouldn’t matter.

But somehow it did.

Terry laid a hand on Carson’s thigh and sighed. “Please don’t be upset, babe. It’s real nice of your sister to take care of the cats while we’re gone. And pick up our mail. And water the plants.”

Carson Kittredge forced a smile to his lips. He turned briefly and glanced at his companion. Terry Mancini, his live-in lover of two years, was so cute it made his heart ache. His brown hair had blond and red highlights from exposure to the sun; he had the most incredible gray-blue eyes, and the most devastating smile. So why was Carson unable to get it up with him anymore? The desire was there, the spirit was willing, but the body—ah the body was weak.

According to his sister, Caroline, there were a number of reasons, chief among them Carson’s inability to find work compensatory with his education and skill set. Sure he had a job, working as a bookkeeper for a local farm co-op, but it was a far cry from his previous position with Blumenthal & Weiss, one of the top financial advisors in the South. But when the economy tanked, so did his career.

And that led to his second frustration—a few months ago, Terry had taken on a second job. He was dancing at Shake’s, a rather shady but well-paying men’s club in Bodega.

God, he hated discussing these things with his own sister, but she was a trained therapist. Plus she had a way of worming things out of him, whether he wanted her to or not. It was damn humiliating to admit to anyone that he suffered from… He couldn’t even think it to himself, say the two words, or even the initials. He’d told her what to do with her offer of a prescription for the V word—that hadn’t gone over very well at all.

“Get some fresh air, have some fun in the sun, relax and forget about life for a while.” Those were her parting words, as she shooed them out the door of their home. He had a feeling, once the door closed, she made a beeline straight to the refrigerator, which Terry had filled with some of his best home-cooked dishes. He couldn’t blame her for that. Terry was a great cook.

Dammit, he was going to do just that. Have fun with Terry. How often did a trip like this happen to guys like them? Not very often. He didn’t want to ruin it for Terry. He loved him, he truly did. Which made his inability to make love to him all the more inexplicable.

It wasn’t just the strip club, though, and he knew it.

He heard Terry clear his throat beside him. Glancing up, he saw he was just about to miss the exit to the interstate, the one that would take them straight to Memphis. Damn. He quickly veered to the right, grateful no one was behind him, and managed to merge onto the highway.

“I packed plenty of sunscreen.” Terry scooted closer to Carson on the generous front seat of the old Lincoln. So close their hips touched. “And lots of lube.” He rubbed his face against Carson’s shoulder in a rather feline gesture. “And some of our favorite toys. And extra batteries.”

“Sounds like you have it all under control.” Carson attempted a smile. His face didn’t want to cooperate. It ended up feeling stiff.

“I just want you to have a good time, babe. This is our time. You and me. I love you so much, Carson.”

Pangs of guilt knifed his heart. He shouldn’t be jealous of Terry. Terry was the best, and he’d never given Carson any reason to doubt him. Never.

“Did you pack a swimsuit? According to the brochure, there’s a big pool onboard the ship.”

“Yep, I did. The red pair you like so much.”

“The extra tight ones?” Oh Lordy, how hot those were, the way they hugged Terry’s sexy ass, and just barely revealed a touch of the tasty flesh beneath. If that didn’t serve to get a rise from his libido, he didn’t know what would.

And wasn’t that a depressing thought.

“What’s the name of the ship again?” he asked, just to distract himself.

“Queen Bee. San Francisco to Hawaii. Fifteen glorious nights and sixteen fun-filled days.”

Queen Bee. A fitting name for a gay cruise.

He slung his arm around Terry’s shoulder, and cuddled him close as they fell into a companionable silence.

to be continued

My Sexy Saturday #13: When Will I Be Loved

Good morning and Happy Saturday!

Some of you may have read my novel, When Will I See You Again, which is about Raoul and Alexx. Today isn't about them, though. it's about Alexx's friend, Miller. I am currently penning the second book, which is Miller's book, When Will I Be Loved.  He meets and is drawn to a sexy blond named Holt Wynne. In this scene, Holt speculates that perhaps he's moving too fast. Enjoy! And don't forget to visit the other participants of the blog hop, whose links follow my excerpt!

“Of course,” Holt continued, “I can slow down, if you think I’m moving too fast...” Despite his words to the contrary, he nuzzled Miller’s neck, his tongue lapping at Miller’s skin, producing shivers. “I promised... myself I’d court you the proper way. Take things in the right order, which I neglected to do when we met.” And now Miller was even more aware of that hard cock poking him in the ass.  “I want you to know how serious I am about you, Miller. Please never doubt that for one minute. So maybe we should think about putting on the brakes... for now?”

“Oh hell no!” Miller blurted out. He spun to face Holt, scanning his eyes for some sign he was kidding. Did he really just build him up to a fever pitch and intend to let him burn in misery? Oh please God, no.

Holt seemed too serious for his taste. He had to do something about this. Quick, change the subject. Or just change his mind.

“Holt, I’m all yours,” he swore, taking a half step toward him, which brought them chest to chest and cock to cock. “Look, we’re not exactly kids, and while I appreciate the sentiment...” He reached between them, pressing the palm of his hand against Holt’s hardness—wasn’t turnabout considered fair play? “I see no reason why we can’t still do the whole courtship thing... by the book, by the numbers, by your leave... any damn way you want to do it...just as long as it gets done.” He began to rub against Holt in earnest, felt the moans that shook the other man’s body. “But there’s no reason to give this up. Is there?”

He dared a glance into Holt’s eyes, wondering what he’d find there. Annoyance? Disappointment? Anger? No, what he saw was approbation. And agreement. He also felt waves of desire emanate from his lover, marveling anew at the bond between them.

“No reason in the world,” Holt replied in a lust-laden voice. “But if you don’t stop that now, we’ll never make it back to the hotel, I’m afraid.”

Miller could accept that. He could wait just a little while, knowing that it would happen. Anticipation wasn’t a bad thing. Quite the contrary, it was the most delicious form of foreplay. But, before he had to take a step back and let things cool down...

He reached for Holt’s head, pulled him down and kissed him long and hard. He was certainly growing bolder where Holt was concerned. More comfortable with their relationship. That kiss would have to do for now.

Tease Me Thursday #16: When Will I Be Loved

Happy Almost Friday! This week is flying by! It's never too early to party, right? So, let's get this party started with a little bit of teasing!

Because my current WIP just reached 60k, I think I'll tease you with a little of that. It's the sequel to When Will I See You Again, and it's called When Will I Be Loved. In this scene, we have our heroes, Miller and Holt. I think  you can figure out the rest lol  Don't forget to visit the other authors on the hop and let them tease you too!

“Of course,” Holt continued, “I can slow down, if you think I’m moving too fast...” Despite his words to the contrary, he nuzzled Miller’s neck, his tongue lapping at Miller’s skin, producing shivers. “I promised... myself I’d court you the proper way. Take things in the right order, which I neglected to do when we met.” And now Miller was even more aware of that hard cock poking him in the ass.  “I want you to know how serious I am about you, Miller. Please never doubt that for one minute. So maybe we should think about putting on the brakes... for now?”

“Oh hell no!” Miller blurted out. He spun to face Holt, scanning his eyes for some sign he was kidding. Did he really just build him up to a fever pitch and intend to let him burn in misery? Oh please God, no.

Holt seemed too serious for his taste. He had to do something about this. Quick, change the subject. Or just change his mind.

“Holt, I’m all yours,” he swore, taking a half step toward him, which brought them chest to chest and cock to cock. “Look, we’re not exactly kids, and while I appreciate the sentiment...” He reached between them, pressing the palm of his hand against Holt’s hardness—wasn’t turnabout considered fair play? “I see no reason why we can’t still do the whole courtship thing... by the book, by the numbers, by your leave... any damn way you want to do it...just as long as it gets done.” He began to rub against Holt in earnest, felt the moans that shook the other man’s body. “But there’s no reason to give this up. Is there?”

He dared a glance into Holt’s eyes, wondering what he’d find there. Annoyance? Disappointment? Anger? No, what he saw was approbation. And agreement. He also felt waves of desire emanate from his lover, marveling anew at the bond between them.

“No reason in the world,” Holt replied in a lust-laden voice. “But if you don’t stop that now, we’ll never make it back to the hotel, I’m afraid.”

Miller could accept that. He could wait just a little while, knowing that it would happen. Anticipation wasn’t a bad thing. Quite the contrary, it was the most delicious form of foreplay. But, before he had to take a step back and let things cool down...

He reached for Holt’s head, pulled him down and kissed him long and hard. He was certainly growing bolder where Holt was concerned. More comfortable with their relationship. That kiss would have to do for now.

Wednesday Briefs: Don't Look Back #2

Welcome, welcome to another edition of Wednesday Briefers, brought to you by the friendly group that loves to write flash fiction! Hope everyone is having a great week, and is ready to read some great flash fiction!

Last week, I started a new story. It's about Marshall and Lee, who have an unusual relationship. I hope you're enjoying it. I plan to run it for a very long time. At the end of last week's chapter, Lee was just taking off his belt. Hmmm, wonder what's coming? Or should that be who?  lol  Don't forget to visit the other Briefers. Their links follow my tale!  Enjoy!

Don't Look Back #2 by Julie Lynn Hayes

Discipline and the feel of a leather belt were bound up in some of Marshall’s earliest memories. His father hadn’t spared the use of the belt with his son, and Marshall could not argue there were times when he flat out deserved it. He was mouthy and bold, and often spoke first, without thinking through what the consequences of his words might be.

He quickly learned that wasn’t necessarily the way to go.

First his dad would warn. But only once. If Marshall didn’t heed that initial warning, he wouldn’t receive any other. The next response would be the summons. That could be verbal, as in his dad calling his name. Or a simple physical touch. Being picked up by the scruff of the neck and laid into position, his pants pulled down and justice meted out.

Sometimes it was the hand alone, stinging Marshall’s flesh, inducing a sweet, hot burn that seared inside and out. A flame he quickly learned to relish as proof of his father’s love. Other times it was his leather belt.  He’d never cried over his spankings, always took them like a man. And his father had treated him like a man. The lesson Marshall came away with was if he broke the rules, he paid the price, and he accepted it.

He always knew his father loved him, even after he spanked him. Afterward, as the flames licked through his flesh—whether administered by hand or by belt—his father would soothe the burning with sweet balm and sweeter words. He never doubted his dad loved him, and he certainly loved his dad. His dad was always there for him, something that couldn’t be said for Marshall’s mother.

Lee flexed his belt and snapped it taut, the sound ringing out as sharply as the crack of a whip. Marshall’s cock was weeping copious amounts of pre-come. He’d have to run a load of laundry before bed, no doubt about it. It was worth it.

“You will use that mouth, boy, never doubt that. You don’t doubt that, do you?”

“No, Sir. I don’t doubt that at all.” He was counting on it, actually. He loved the taste of Lee’s meaty cock, loved the texture of it. Lee seldom came in Marshall’s mouth, but on those rare occasions he did, Marshall was in heaven.

When he was little, his mother made a habit of running off and leaving Marshall and his father for extended periods of time. Even when she was there, she wasn’t there. Marshall didn’t miss her, didn’t need her. He had his father, and he was loved.  She was a virtual stranger on the periphery of his existence. He barely knew who she was—the concept of mother was an alien one to him. Father he understood very well.

His father quit his job and started his own business instead, out of his home, so he could be with Marshall. He took care of the house as well as his son, saw to his every need, cooked and cleaned and made sure he got to school on time. When Marshall didn’t thrive in the public school system, his father removed him and homeschooled him instead. And Marshall felt very loved.

Every night they had a ritual. After dinner, once the dishes were done and put away, and the kitchen was clean, they would read together. His dad had taught Marshall to read by the time he was three. He loved those times, sitting on his dad’s lap, either listening to his deep, rich voice read his favorite stories, or reading the words aloud to his father himself.

After the story, they took their shower together in his father’s own bathroom, dried off, and then they went to bed. But not before giving thanks for what they had. The blessings in their lives. Marshall always considered his biggest blessing to be his dad. And then they’d stretch out in his dad’s big bed, both of them warm and bare from the shower, and his dad would lie behind him and put his arm around him, holding him against him.

Marshall felt security, he felt love, and the strength of his father’s body so close to his was ingrained into his love for him. There would never be anyone like his father in Marshall’s life.

“I’ll show you how these knees can take it, boy,” Lee drawled, “and then you can just work the grass stains out of my pants. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir. Understood, Sir.” Wouldn’t be the first time. Or the last.

Marshall knew Lee had no trouble with kneeling on the rough ground. Lee was in prime condition, and there were times when he could put Marshall to shame. Marshall just liked giving him a hard time. Yeah, he was still that mouthy little kid at heart.

Grass stains were a small price to pay for what he was about to receive. Thank God for the wide open spaces of Texas, and their private playground, far away from their nearest neighbor.

Lee dropped to the ground, onto his knees, the belt gripped in one strong hand.  “Strip,” he commanded tersely. “All the way.”

Just what Marshall wanted to hear.  The spanking he was about to receive would definitely be followed by a fucking. Thank you God, yes, yes, yes...

He wasted no time in divesting himself of his boots, followed by his jeans. He wore nothing beneath. Going commando was his religion. It gave easier and quicker access for Lee, who did not like to be kept waiting. Neither did Marshall.

“Assume the position.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Marshall laid himself across Lee’s legs, the denim rough against his bare skin.  He turned his head to avoid getting another mouthful of flowers.

“Spread ‘em.”

Marshall obliged, widening the space between his legs, feeling the warm breeze caress his pucker. Lee’s hand stroked gently across one cheek, but Marshall knew better.

This was just the tip of the iceberg.

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!

Nephylim

MA Church

Chris T. Kat

Avery

Larry Benjamin

Cia Nordwell

Tali Spencer

JC Wallace

Kazy Reed

Sarah Hayes

Jim Dunaway

Rob Colton

Johayan

Grace Duncan  

The Wednesday Briefers are taking a cruise!

Come sail away with the Wednesday Briefers! We're going to Beth Wylde's GLBT chat on June 29th, and you're all invoiced to come!

A number of the Wednesday Briefers will be attending at various times throughout the day. There will be giveaways, including an Amazon GC from the group, as well as individual prizes from the authors. There will be witty banter and repartee, and perhaps some shocking revelations! Also, in honor of the occasion, there will be special flash fiction that takes place on the Queen Bee, our cruice ship.

So come be a part of the fun!

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday! Be there, be there, be there!

Don't forget the time - June 29th - and the place - http://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/bethwylde/info.

Don't forget, in order to comment, you have to join the group, and in order to win  you have to comment!

See you there!

Secret Chemistry Review

 Secret Chemistry  

Author: Chris T. Kat

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

American release date: January 10, 2013

Format/Genre/Length: Novel/M/M Paranormal Romance/220 pages

Overall Personal Rating: ★★★★★

At the tender age of thirteen, Tim is a responsible young man who loves his siblings, especially his little brother Robin, who is only one. Tim and his family are all werewolves. His father, Ralf, is the alpha of their pack. But trouble is brewing one day when Ralf is away from home and Tim’s mother Paula is confronted by other pack members over the issue of hybrid pups. Some wolves think they are abominations and the pups that result from such unions should be killed.

Tim has been restless all day, but he doesn’t know why. He keeps smelling something wonderful, that seems to call to him. When the trouble erupts with his mother and the others, she telepathically tells her children to run home immediately. Tim intends to obey but suddenly he smells that scent again, and it’s stronger now, closer. He can’t do anything less than search for the source. He finds and chases a wounded mother wolf and her pup—and, to Tim’s amazement, the pup is the source of the scent. Tim is shocked on two counts—the pup is his mate, and he is a hybrid.

Tim realizes the pup is not ready to be mated, and neither is he. All he can do for now is get him to safety, and keep an eye on him until he is ready, painful though that decision is. But things beyond his control occur and he has no idea where his mate—his Jay is—and there is nothing he can do about it.

Fast forward eighteen years. Tim has never mated. And the pack won’t accept him as alpha, because of his behavior after losing Jay. Ralf chooses Robin, instead, who is less than enthusiastic over the prospect of becoming alpha. Tim has never ceased pining for his Jay. Will he ever see him again?

I totally loved this book. I must say that Chris T. Kat writes everything well, but when she writes about children and animals, she shines. Her affinity for them is obvious in every detail. Her shifters, in their animal form, are so realistic and endearing. She especially excels at playful banter and repartee between her characters.

I’ve read some criticisms of the book and don’t understand or share them. There’s an eighteen year gap between the first and second parts of the story. But to fill that in with what happened is totally unnecessary and would have bogged everything down. As for complaints about Tim’s knot, well, that’s how dogs and wolves are built. It’s there nature. Not like Chris invented it.

The relationship between young Tim and young Jay is precious. Of course, she had to let them grow up before they could mate. Duh. They were thirteen and three. When they meet again, they are ready, and the chemistry between them is hot, hot, hot.

I can’t wait for the next book—Secret Energy. This was a great read. Like a freshly baked cinnamon roll, it’s sweet, gooey, and sensual. Did I mention the sex  is hot? It sure is. A must read for fans of Ms. Kat, and those who enjoy hot shifter stories.

Love, Loss, Laughter & Lust Anthology Releases today!

I am proud to announce that I have a story in Wayward Ink's new anthology, Love, Loss, Laughter & Lust, which released today! This is my first, and certainly not last, collaboration with Wayward Ink, so let's celebrate together, while I talk a little bit about writing for an anthology.

Being part of an anthology is different than other writing. Being part of an anthology is a group effort, of which the sum is greater than the whole. I am proud to announce my first story for Wayward Ink Publishing, “His Prince Wore Pink Stilettos”, which is part of the Love, Loss, Laughter & Lust anthology. I am also very proud to say that I am an editor with Wayward Ink, and helped to edit some of these stories.

Sometimes you don’t want to read something heavy, you just want to take little nibbles of fiction. Stories you can stop and start at your leisure. Well, consider this book to be a smorgasbord for  your reading pleasure.

As the title implies, there will be love, loss, laughter & lust. Mostly I think you’ll come away with a smile on  your face, and perhaps a tear in your eye for what  you’ve seen in these pages.

My story, “His Prince Wore Pink Stilettos” takes place in the 1970s, and is one young man’s journey to sexual awareness. Being gay then wasn’t very easy, and Michael is clueless when it comes to boys, because he’s sure he’s the only one like him. And how can he tell the boy who’s the object of his wet dreams how he feels?

Here’s an excerpt from my story:

I WAS eighteen and gay at a time when it wasn't very well accepted, as compared to the grudging acceptance we garner nowadays, but this is 2006 and that was the 70s, a different story altogether. And St. Louis wasn't Los Angeles, and it certainly wasn't San Francisco, tending to be on the conservative side, existing as it does in the Bible belt. Puberty is hard enough to go through on its own merits, but when one comes to realize that what seems natural to you is considered an abomination by others—well, you sort of learn to keep your natural inclinations to yourself. And then you hope that you’re not the only one that feels that way.

I first came to understand that it was men that tripped my trigger, so to speak, and not women, when I was about thirteen. I have an older sister, Brenda, who used to read movie magazines like they were gospel. She was always raving about this that or the other handsome actor. And dragging me to the movie theater to see her current favorites, whether I was willing to go or not. I usually was—willing, I mean. After all, a free film is a free film. Even if I pretended to fuss about it. But it wasn't until we went to see A Man Called Horse that I got my first clue about my true sexual orientation.

There's a scene at the beginning of the film where Richard Harris, the rich Englishman who’s the hero of the movie, is bathing in a river when the other members of his hunting party are set upon and murdered by Native Americans. This same group then happens upon Richard as well, and they chase him from the water, at which point there is a fantastic view of his bare posterior. Well, when I caught a glimpse of those firm buttocks, so unmistakably enlarged upon the screen, I found myself riveted to the sight, unable—and unwilling—to look away. On top of that, I had a definite reaction—a very physical one—that caught me very much off guard. I think I even squeaked, embarrassing as that is to relate, because I remember my sister nudging me to be quiet, while she too feasted her eyes upon the screen. At her nudge, I spilled my cup of soda into my lap, which turned out to be fortunate, for it relieved my engorged situation, and I didn't have to explain anything to anyone. Other than myself, that is. And napkins took care of the rest.

That was when I had a long hard look at myself and the world around me, borrowing Brenda’s movie magazines for a comparison test. Yes, it was true, without a shadow of a doubt. It was the male of the species that turned me on. While I liked the women well enough, they did nothing for me in any romantic or sexual sense, and I had no desire to kiss any of them. Richard Harris, on the other hand... well, I was more than willing to be ‘ravished’ by him. Sort of like a reverse bodice-ripper, those popular romance novels where the heroine was ‘unwilling’, back when that meant she wanted it and didn’t know it. Well, I knew it, and I dreamed that someday that hunky Irishman might come and take me away.

That never happened.

This story was originally published by Dreamspinner Press a few years ago. It has been re-edited and the title slightly changed. I’m proud to have had it accepted by Wayward Ink for their Love, Loss, Laughter & Lust anthology. As the title implies, there is something for everyone in this book.

Wayward Ink is having a giveaway to celebrate the anthology’s release! Just enter your name in the rafflecopter!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Love, Loss, Laughter & Lust

We’ve all loved.

We’ve all laughed.

Sadly, we’ve also probably all known loss in one form or another.

And, yes, we at Wayward Ink are sure we’ve all experienced lust!

In Love, Loss, Laughter & Lust, you'll experience one or more of the "L"s as we take you on a roller coaster of emotions.

Whether you like to sigh over the sweet, cry for the broken-hearted, enjoy a good laugh, or get a little hot and bothered; there's something for everyone in this collection. 

Buy link for Love, Loss, Laughter & Lust at Wayward Ink:  http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/love-loss-laughter-lust/

MINI BLURB FOR EACH STORY

His Prince Wore Pink Stilettos

Julie Lynn Hayes

Wanted: one prince, ball optional…

Invisible

Taylin Clavelli

What do you do when you become invisible to the love of your life?

Hearts

Anyta Sunday

What if your fate is to lose the one you love and be doomed to live in a city of lost hearts?
Is it possible two dead hearts can see life again?

A Closed Door

Andrew Q. Gordon

Sometimes when you leave to find yourself, you've left the answer behind. 

Sleepwalking

Taylin Clavelli

Devastated by loss, Matthew sleepwalks through life, existing but not living.

Can someone rescue him from his waking nightmare and help him to live again?

Life According to Buddy

Lily Velden

Buddy is a penis on a mission...

Mission Objective: The Love Tunnel

Service with a Smile

Lily G. Blunt

Terry visits a men’s designer boutique, and Ash gives him service with a smile…

Hunter or Hunted?

Lily Velden

Any hunter worth his salt will tell you that in order to capture your prey, there are few simple rules you must follow…

Julie Lynn Hayes was reading at the age of two and writing by the age of nine and always wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Two marriages, five children, and more than forty years later, that is still her dream. She blames her younger daughters for introducing her to yaoi and the world of M/M love, a world which has captured her imagination and her heart and fueled her writing in ways she'd never dreamed of before. She especially loves stories of two men finding true love and happiness in one another's arms and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and two cats, loves books and movies, and hopes to be a world traveler some day. She enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stitch, knitting and needlepoint and loves to cook. While working a temporary day job, she continues to write her books and stories and reviews, which she posts in various places on the internet. Her family thinks she is a bit off, but she doesn't mind. Marching to the beat of one's own drummer is a good thing, after all.  Her published works can be found at Dreamspinner Press, Amber Quill Press, MuseitUp Publishing, Torquere Press, and eXtasy Books, and coming soon to Wayward Ink Publishing and Prizm Publishing. She has also begun to self-publish and is an editor at MuseitUp.  

You can find her on her blog at http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com, and you can contact her at tothemax.wolf@gmail.com.

My links:

Blog:  http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com

Twitter @Shelley_runyon

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/julie.l.hayes.7

My Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3442231.Julie_Lynn_Hayes

Tease Me Thursday #15: To The Max

Friday's almost here, you're feeling frisky and want to have some fun, so sit back and let me tease you with Tease Me Thursday!

Today I'm giving you a bit from a WIP that is also an old book of mine, one that is no longer with Dreamspinner. I'm going to polish it off and send it and the sequel to another publisher. I'm talking about my first published book, To The Max. I'll let Max tell you who he is in his own words. Then don't forget to visit the other authors in the hop!

I have no proof one way or the other of the existence of a divine being, but if there is such a person, he or she certainly has a twisted sense of humor. As if I didn't have enough to contend with being born a member of the lycanthropic order, I am also of the homosexual persuasion. In other words, a gay werewolf! Pretty funny, isn't it? And sometimes it's hard to tell where the one leaves off and the other begins...

I'm not sure why I said homosexual persuasion—it's not as if someone persuaded me to be gay, I just am. It's not exactly a conscious choice. After all, who in their right mind would deliberately choose to be of a sexual orientation that’s not exactly mainstream, and often draws the most scathing and condescending of denunciations from the so-called "regular" people? Not I. But as I said, it's not a choice, it just is, so I live with it, having taken some forty odd years to become adjusted to the idea. Now it's just a part of me, a part of who I am, like the werewolf thing. And my innate fashion sense. All right, maybe I'm feeding a stereotype there. Forgive my warped sense of humor.

Now for the link:

Wednesday Briefs: Don't Look Back: Chapter One

Welcome everyone to Happy Wednesday/Hump Day, and another edition of the Wednesday Briefers! This week is going quickly! Before  you know it, it'll be time for the weekend again! Yay! But for right now, let's have some fun with some flash fiction!

I told you last week I wasn't going to post any more of Dallas in Wonderland II, so today I'm starting something new. I let my muse guide me and this is what I came up with. I call it Don't Look Back, and I'd like you to meet my guys - Marshall and Lee. Hope you like them! Don't forget to see what the other Briefers have to offer this week. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!

Don't Look Back: Chapter One

“Stop running and face me, boy.”

The words sent chills skittering along Marshall’s spine. He was torn between the desire to obey and the need to provoke punishment. Giving in and turning was his first instinct, but the idea of being stretched out across the other man’s lap, his ass exposed, bared to receive those glorious swipes of his firm hand was too strong to ignore.

On the other hand, he sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy on him, either.

Marshall stood at the edge of the trees. Lee was maybe a hundred yards or so behind him. He knew without looking that Lee’s eyes held that intense look he got when he was on the hunt. The dark blue became almost purple. God, his eyes were sexy. Marshall’s own eyes were emerald green and slightly tilted, a genetic throwback to some long dead ancestor. As was his long lush auburn hair that fell straight down his back. He could have tied it so it wouldn’t fly into his face as he ran, but he liked the feel of it on his bare back.

Ahead of him lay an open field, and just across that lay more trees. The trick was to get across the empty space. With no cover, he’d be a sitting duck.

Then again, he intended to be caught, didn’t he? Wasn’t that the whole point of this chase? That and keeping fit.

There was no actual decision to be made. Marshall made no response to Lee’s demand. He grinned to himself, his heart beating faster, his blood pressure rising—that wasn’t the only thing rising. His cock was pressing against the material of his jeans. Oh shit, horniness was rearing its ugly head, demanding satisfaction.

Maybe this would be a short chase, after all. If Lee questioned why the surrender, Marshall would just tell him it was in deference to the twenty some odd years Lee had on him. Didn’t want to hurt the old-timer.

And wouldn’t that just provoke a delicious spanking? Not to mention the fucking that would follow.

Shit, his erection hurt now, just thinking about Lee’s big thick cock inside of him. Decision made.

He darted out from the cover of the trees. Summer was in full bloom, and wildflowers bobbed and weaved their yellow, white, and purple heads, dancing in the heated breeze that blew from the south. Marshall didn’t mind the heat. He welcomed it. It was the cold he wasn’t partial to, and why he felt the need to get the fuck out of Fargo.

Texas. Now there was warmth and sunshine to spare. And wide open spaces. Plenty of room for the two of them. And no one to tell them what they could or couldn’t do.

He could hear Lee’s approach, and he knew that was no accident. Had this been an actual hunt, he would never have heard him coming. Stealth was that man’s middle name. Fucking hot he was too. Marshall had never had another lover. Never wanted one. Lee was all he wanted and all he needed. When you had the best, why look for anything else?

Marshall slowed his own pace. He’d had a good run, but it was time to give in now. Pride only carried you so far, and right now it was losing to desire and need... both of which said fall the fuck down and get ready for punishment... and reward.

A strategically timed tuck and roll brought him to his knees. He automatically assumed the position. Head down, hands behind him, palms up, against the base of his spine, just in the hollow above his ass. He wasn’t even winded and he took pride in the fact. He was in great shape, and he knew Lee loved his body and the pleasure that it gave. At the age of twenty, Marshall wasn’t ripped, not by any means. But he was built, he was strong, without an ounce of fat on his lean frame. And he was limber as hell.

His entire body tingled in anticipation of Lee’s arrival.

“I should take you right here and now.” The familiar drawl came from behind him. He loved the way Lee could elongate any word, giving it a sensual twist that went straight to his cock.

“What’s the matter? Afraid of getting dirty?” He almost dared a glance, to see the reaction his words engendered, but thought better of it at the last minute.  “Can’t your knees take it, old man?”

That did it. He felt Lee’s boot against the small of his back, and then he was face down in the grass, getting an up close and personal taste of the wildflowers. He didn’t dare take the offending blossoms from his mouth, so he grinned and bore it. The serrated leaves bit into his cheek, drawing blood.

If Lee pressed hard enough, he could easily snap Marshall’s spine. But he wouldn’t. That wasn’t what this was about. Discipline, yes. Setting limits, yes. Killing... no.

“You have a mouth on you, boy.”

Marshall made no reply, due to the greenery in his mouth. And because he’d not received permission to do so.

“Roll over and look at me,” Lee directed. The pressure lessened and Marshall breathed more easily, then did as he was told, spitting out what was in his mouth. The bulge in his jeans was damn painful now, and more than obvious. He could see flames of desire burning in Lee’s eyes that raked him over from head to toe. “I said you have a mouth on you, boy. What do you say to that?”

“Yes, Sir, I do, Sir.”

“Might have to put that to good use.”

Marshall’s pulse quickened. He knew it wouldn’t be as easy as that. First the discipline, then the reward. He relished them both.

Lee unfastened the large silver buckle that gleamed on his leather belt. Marshall was more than passing familiar with the feel of it against his flesh.

to be continued

Now see what the other Briefers are up to!

MA Church

Chris T. Kat

Jon Keys

Kazy Reed

Nephylim

Rob Colton

Shelly Schulz

Cia Nordwell

JC Wallace

Avery

Jim Dunaway

TC Collins

Tali Spencer

Johayan

Until Thanksgiving Review

 Until Thanksgiving    

Author: Michael Rupured

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

American release date: December 16, 2012

Format/Genre/Length: Novel/M/M Contemporary Romance/232 pages

Overall Personal Rating: ★★★★★

When did Josh Freeman’s sex life degenerate into anonymous sex at the local adult bookstore? Maybe when his longtime lover, Ben, needed to take a playmate on the side. Josh goes into a tailspin, but his best friend, and long ago girlfriend, Linda, keeps telling him he needs to take his company’s job offer and move out of Lexington, Kentucky and into the nation’s capital. Finally, Josh agrees.

Moving to Washington DC is definitely out of Josh’s comfort zone, but it has to be better than his life in Lexington. The company assigns Thad Parker to help Josh find a place to live, and the good-looking redhead is more than happy to oblige, especially once he gets a look at the ruggedly handsome Josh. Thad shows Josh a few apartments, saving the best for last, and Josh snaps it up, ending up on the Dupont Circle. Thad neglects to mention he only lives a few blocks away.

Thad and Josh get along very well. Josh accepts Thad’s invitation to a small get-together at a local bar, where he meets a few of Thad’s friends. He finds he is much more in demand than he ever was in Lexington. Except by Thad, who apparently lives with his much older lover, unfortunately for Josh.

Josh discovers that playing the field isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and not everyone is what they appear to be. Including the hunky guy who came on to him, got his phone number, and then never called. Josh is also disturbed by the recent deaths of gay men in the area. The police have no answers, and a serial killer is on the loose somewhere. Disturbing by anyone’s definition.

Until Thanksgiving worked on so many levels for me. The author made me feel like I was a part of the world that Josh moved into. The characters are well-drawn, and it was easy to come to care for Josh and Thad, and hope they would find their way to each other.

I like that Michael didn’t gloss over the sex lives of his characters, or pretend it was always about romance, when for a lot of gay men (and straight) hooking up is all about the sex. Josh begins as a fish out of water, unable to see himself as he really is and how others see him, and he grows and develops throughout the story.

This was the second time I read this book, and even though I knew what was going to happen, it touched me just as much as it did the first time. I was excited, fearful, hopeful... I cried and I laughed. Most of all, I came away with the memory of a very lovely story.

I shall be reading more of Mr. Rupured’s books, rest assured.