Sunday, November 30, 2014

My newest release: Dirty Little Lies

A week ago, I released a new short story with Amber Quill. It's called Dirty Little Lies. It was released once before as part of the Winter Heat anthology, which is no longer in release. The original title was Son of a Preacher Man.

As of right now, my only release scheduled for 2015 is for Crossroads, a story I have coming out with eXtasy no later than March 1st. It's never been released. I'm almost done writing When Will I Be Loved, sequel to When Will I See You Again, and hope to pitch it soon. Keep your fingers crossed for that! And I have plenty of other stories to finish or to start!

Before I give you a little taste of the story, I want to show you the faces I used for inspiration for my two main characters:

Meet Levi Thornton, son of a preacher man

And this is Darjeeling Crane!

Now, here's a little more about Dirty Little Lies. Enjoy!

Levi Thornton is the closeted gay son of homophobic televangelist Marshall Thornton. So what’s the perfect gift for the father who never cared? Levi’s going to find a yummy young man on Christmas Eve, fuck him all night long and six ways to Sunday. And then he’s going to out himself on live national TV on Christmas Day in front of his father and God and everyone else. 

The problem is he’s having no luck at finding that special someone to share this moment with. Just when he thinks his quest is hopeless, in breezes Darjeeling Crane, and it’s off to the family hideaway for a night of fun. This will be a Christmas to remember, if Levi has anything to say about it.

Levi rose, loosened his red houndstooth tie, plastered a beatific smile on his handsome face, and strode purposefully toward the blond, never taking his eyes from him. He dropped onto the empty stool beside him, swinging it to face him, their knees touching.

“Merry Christmas,” the blond greeted him.

“It will be,” Levi replied. “It certainly will be.” At that moment the counter girl laid down a menu, a glass of water, and tableware. “Take your time, honey,” she said, walking away before he could comment.
The stranger flipped the menu open. “Anything you recommend?”

Levi blindly jabbed a finger at the open page. “Yeah. Me,” he brazenly replied. “I can give you something a whole lot better than anything you’ll find here. And then I’ll feed you, too.”

“That’s quite an offer, Mr…?” He looked at Levi, the question hanging from his pretty lips.

“You can call me Levi. What should I call you, pretty thing?”

“I like that, but you can call me Darjeeling.”

Auburn eyebrows arched in disbelief. “Like the tea?”


Levi leaned in, his lips brushing against the other man’s ear, his breath warm against his flesh. “I have a place where you and I can go, if you’re interested. Someplace a whole lot better than this ptomaine palace. And a hell of a lot more private. What do you say?” He ran his tongue along the outer shell of Darjeeling’s ear, felt his shiver.

“What do I say?” He laid his hand on Levi’s arm, turned his head just enough that their lips were mere micro-centimeters apart. “I say how soon can we leave?”

Available at Amber Quill

Read the 4 1/2 star review from  MM Good Book Reviews

Julie Lynn Hayes first began publishing short stories and poetry in the 1990’s, when it was a different ballgame altogether, and Ebooks hadn’t been dreamed of yet. That changed in 2010 with the acceptance of her first romance novel. She’s come a long way since that first book appeared, and is finding the journey a very educational one.

She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and her cat Ramesses. She often writes of two men finding true love and happiness in one another’s arms, and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She likes to write in different genres, to stretch herself in order to see what is possible. Her great challenge is to be told something can’t be done; she feels compelled to do it.

When she isn’t writing, she enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stich,  needlepoint and knitting, and she loves to cook, spending time watching the Food Network. Her favorite chef is Geoffrey Zakarian. Her family thinks she’s 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, eXtasy Books, Amber Quill Press, Torquere Press and Wayward ink.

My links:
Twitter @Shelley_runyon

Friday, November 28, 2014

Virtual Book Tour: Saving Crofton Hall

Book Name: Saving Crofton Hall
Author Name: Rebecca Cohen
Author Bio:
Rebecca Cohen is a Brit abroad. Having swapped the Thames for the Rhine, she has left London behind and now lives with her husband and baby son in Basel, Switzerland. She can often be found with a pen in one hand and a cup of Darjeeling in the other.
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Reese Dante
Benjamin Redbourn, Earl of Crofton, has no intention of giving up his beloved ancestral home without a fight. Faced with his mother’s gambling debts, forgery, and the possibility of foreclosure by the bank, Ben vows to make Crofton Hall pay for herself. But opening an Elizabethan manor house  to the public isn’t a one man job. With time running out, Ben needs help—and fast.
Ashley Niven has experience managing events, and he also loves history. Being in charge of opening Crofton Hall is a dream come true. As he works with Ben to prepare the house as a venue for lavish weddings and receptions, Ashley finds himself drawn not just to the charm of the house but to the dashing Earl of Crofton.  Even if Ashley can look past Ben’s playboy reputation, he fears an affair could prove too much of a distraction.
But Crofton Hall has many secrets, and something hidden for over four hundred years is about to change all their lives.
Categories: Contemporary, Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance

“How much?”
She wouldn’t meet his eye.
“Just short of five million to the bank.”
Ben lost his balance and landed heavily on his arse in a nearby chair.
“How the hell did you manage that? I only agreed to borrow five hundred
thousand, and that was for essential repairs, and the estate could easily
repay the loan in ten years.”
“I approached the bank with a business case for a visitor attraction.
They were very enthusiastic.”
“What gave you the right?”
“Your father left us both in charge of Crofton Hall, Benjamin,” she
said sharply.
He glowered at her and she deflated.
“I needed the money, and the only way I could get it was to tell the
bank I wanted to open Crofton Hall to the public.”
“And they agreed to lend the money without my permission?” he
asked carefully, hardly believing his mother’s audacity, but getting the
feeling he knew what she was going to say next.
“They might have been under the impression that you’d agreed to it,
and I was acting on both our behalves.”
“Really. And how would they have thought that?”
“Your signature isn’t exactly hard to copy.”
Ben covered his face with his hands, understanding what his mother
had done.
“I know I shouldn’t have, not without your permission, but I was
desperate. And the bank thought our business plan was excellent.”
He looked up at her. Elena’s eyes were red from crying, but there
was still an edge of defiance in her face. “How much is left?”
She shrugged. “A few thousand, maybe.”
“And you used Crofton Hall as security?”
The anger flashed through him, burning through his usual amicable
nature. “How could you have been so stupid? Were you even thinking past
your own selfishness?”
Elena cowered in her seat.
“You’ve ruined us, destroyed this family!”
“I didn’t mean—”
Ben didn’t want to hear her feeble excuses. “Oh, that’s all right, then.
We’ll tell the bank, you didn’t mean it, and they’ll forget all about it.”
Ben reined in his anger. Taking deep, slow breaths, he clenched and
unclenched his fists as he regained his calm. He watched Catlin pace up
and down. Harry stood slumped against the fireplace, shell-shocked. Now
was not the time to panic. He needed to know exactly how much trouble
they were in and deal with it. “Get me the paperwork.”
Without argument, Elena jumped to her feet and scurried over to the
writing bureau in the corner. From the folds of frills and ruffles of her
blouse, she fished out a key on a chain and unlocked the bureau. She drew
out a sheaf of paper. “It’s all here.”
“Right, let’s hope my economics degree wasn’t for nothing.” Ben
snatched the papers. “I suggest you all keep your distance until I’ve
finished reading.”
He sank into a chair by the unlit fireplace, blocking out the angry
thoughts as he scanned sheet after sheet. The figures danced before his
eyes, and he saw the terms and conditions his mother had agreed to. The
interest, compound interest, and payback terms were listed and
categorized in black and white with no way of denying the facts. They
were in deep shit, the bank would be at the door within weeks, and Ben
seethed internally at his mother’s gall.
The effort she’d put into defrauding the bank was amazing, the
business case had been full of fine details and promised an excellent
return, but little help would that do them now.
Ben stared around the sitting room; generations of Redbourns had sat
in here. Men who’d fought at Blenheim, Waterloo, and El Alamein —they
would never have given in and surrendered Crofton Hall in the face of
adversity. And it wasn’t about to happen while Ben was Earl of Crofton
either. As much as he wanted to rail against it, their only hope was to
convince the bank they were following through with the idea of opening
the house to the public.
“We can probably sell the London apartment. That’ll raise around
two million. Our trust funds are protected, so we can’t release the equity
from those. If we’ve any hope of holding on to her, Crofton Hall is going
have to earn her keep.”

Tour Date/Stops:
November 26: Nephylim, BFD Book Blog

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: E-book
Sales Links:
DSP ebook

DSP paperback

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Virtual Book Blast: Thief

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly drawn commenter will run a $25 Amazon/BN gift card via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Kayli Winchester is a dirt-poor girl living out of a hotel, forced to be the parent for a drunken father and teenage brother who she’s desperate to keep in school. The only way she scrapes by is to utilize her one skill: pickpocketing. But even though she’s a thief she has a moral code: no kids or old ladies, only targets who can defend themselves. Not that they see her coming…

Thinking she’s been working under the radar, Kayli has no idea The Academy has been watching and taking notice. Now a team that needs her skill has offered her a way out of her predicament and it’s her last chance: work with them, or face jail time. Kayli resists at first, but slowly the boys reveal they can be trusted. With Marc, the straight man, Raven, the bad-boy Russian, Corey and Brandon the twins as different as night and day, and Axel their stoic leader, there’s a lot Kayli can learn from these Academy guys about living on the edge of the law. If only she can stay on the good side instead of the bad.

Especially when the job they offer her is more than any of them bargained for. After it’s done, the hunters have become the hunted and their target is now after Kayli. The Academy boys do their best to keep her hidden, but a thief like Kayli will never sit still for long.

Meet an all-new Academy team in Thief, the beginning of the Scarab Beetle series.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Men are brilliantly stupid.

For one thing, guys carry the most cash with them anywhere. Didn’t anyone ever tell them cash was dead?

I nestled myself in one of the side branches of Citadel Mall. I picked my way through a Claire’s but the lights were too bright reflecting off the sparkling plastic and crystals of the teeny bopper jewelry and handbags. I ducked into a shoe store where the lighting was dimmer and the window wasn’t as obstructed. Waiting was the hardest part.

My favorite place to find dumb guys with lots of cash was the mall. Always fairly crowded on a weekend; I could count on at least a couple of twenties for every wallet I temporarily borrowed.

I never kept all of it. Forty to sixty dollars at the most. Not enough to bother reporting to the cops. I didn’t mess with credit cards, or bother with selling ID cards. That’s the kind of crazy stuff that gets you sent to prison. I always left the wallets and the rest of the leftovers tucked away in the food court and on benches where management would see it and find the owner. That way, the people wouldn’t have to get new ID, which is a huge hassle.

And they never suspected a thing. All they saw when I accidentally bumped into them was batting eyelashes and as much cleavage as I could muster the absurdity to expose without dry heaving.

About the Author: C. L. Stone once lived in Charleston, SC, and currently lives among Cajuns. She writes about cute boys and uncomfortable situations, usually mixed together. You can email her at Sign up for email updates, get exclusive info on upcoming release dates, get notified when freebies are offered, and sometimes sneak peeks!

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, iTunes, Google, or All Romance eBooks.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Wednesday Briefs: Don't Look Back #23 (5.2)

Good morning and Happy Hump Day! For those in the US, it's the day before Thanksgiving! If it's Wednesday, it must be time for some flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! Each of our stories is between 500 and 1000 words, and each is inspired by one or more of our weekly prompts.

In last week's episode of Don't Look Back, Marshall and Lee are in San Antonio on a business/pleasure trip. The business is done, now for some pleasure! Don't forget to see what the other Briefers are up to. Their links follow my tale!  Enjoy!

Don't Look Back #23 (5.2)

The walk back to the Crockett seemed impossibly long, but Marshall curbed his impatience, and refrained from putting his hands all over Lee, much as he wanted to. In public, anyway. Once they were alone, that wasn’t all he intended to touch Lee with, and his cock ached at the thought.

“Want to grab a bite to eat?” Lee asked. They stood at the back of the elevator, which crawled up to the fifth floor, stopping for an eternity at every floor in between, as people got on and off.

“That’s the plan,” Marshall quipped. He gave Lee a sassy wink.

“I meant dinner, boy.” Lee chuckled.

“So did I.” Marshall offered a faux innocent look that didn’t fool Lee for one moment.

Lee’s grin only grew broader. Food could wait, as far as Marshall was concerned. Oh yes, he intended to dine—on Lee.

They arrived on their floor at last. Lee took Marshall’s hand in his and they strolled the short distance to their room. Marshall’s heart pounded in anticipation. His cock was hard and leaking pre-cum. Lee opened the door and pulled Marshall inside, pushing him up against the back of the door. Their mouths meshed hungrily together.

Marshall never tired of the taste of Lee, no matter how often they kissed, which was pretty often. His connection to Lee was everything to Marshall. Lee was his anchor and his rock, and he couldn’t imagine life without him. Never again.

He moaned when Lee broke off the kiss. 

“Shhh. Get undressed and meet me on the bed,” Lee murmured, “but leave the underwear.”  He disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, Marshall heard running water, and he understood. He quickly yanked off all his clothes, leaving the assless boxers. And the cock ring, of course, which technically didn’t qualify as clothing. More of an accessory.

By the time Lee emerged from the bathroom, Marshall was splayed across the bed, his head on one hand, the other draped along his side. He looked into Lee’s eyes as he approached, and read the open admiration there, as well as lust.

“If I’m the main course, you’re dessert,” Lee said, his voice deep with need, and the promise of what was to come. “How do you want me?”

Now that was a good question. Marshall scrambled onto his hands and knees and crawled down the bed toward Lee. “Turn around and let me see what I’m gonna eat,” he directed.

Lee obeyed, turning in a sexy pirouette until his ass faced Marshall. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes fixed on Marshall.

God bless whoever designed these.

Lee was in fantastic shape. His body could put a lot of younger men to shame. Every time Marshall looked at him, his heart swelled with pride at the knowledge this sexy man was his.

Rising onto his knees, Marshall nuzzled Lee’s ass. He rubbed his cheek against Lee’s firm flesh. Lee spread his legs a little more, and Marshall reached between, cupping his heavy balls, rolling them in his fingers.

This was nice, but this wasn’t what he wanted. For right now, Marshall was in charge and he knew it, knew how to use it.

He slid his tongue along Lee’s crack, but that was just an appetizer. “On your hands and knees,” he instructed him, moving aside so Lee could clamber onto the bed. 

Lee’s movements were slow and sexy, and Marshall watched with open admiration as Lee assumed the requested position, facing the headboard. He wriggled his ass enticingly. Marshall’s mouth watered in anticipation at the sight.

He was determined to make this moment last as long as possible.

Marshall began with the soles of Lee’s feet, pressing soft kisses on them, then on up his muscled legs. He liked the feel of the hair against his lips as he kissed his way up to his thighs and licked at the tender skin there before turning his attention to Lee’s taint. He licked a trail from his balls to his hole and felt Lee shiver.

Using his fingers, he spread Lee’s cheeks, admiring the pink pucker inside. This was his goal. This was his prize for good behavior. For this, Marshall was willing to be a very, very good boy indeed.
He tenderly kissed Lee’s hole and the sensitive skin around it, before adding his tongue to the mix and licking the same areas.

Feeling adventurous, he raised his hand and slapped Lee’s cheek, felt it quiver beneath his palm. When he heard Lee moan, he repeated the action on the other cheek.

“Goddamn, boy,” was Lee’s only comment.

And now for the feast…

Marshall devoured Lee’s hole, alternating between licking and sucking and fucking with his tongue.  No fingers today, he used his mouth alone to satisfy both their desires. He felt Lee’s need ramping up, growing stronger, much like his own. With the cock ring, though, there was nothing he could do about that. At least not now.

He knew Lee was reaching his limit when Lee’s hand snaked beneath him, reaching for his cock. Marshall forestalled his move by rolling them both over. He knew damn well Lee was stronger, and could have stopped him easily… if he’d wanted to.

Marshall twined his fingers in Lee’s offending hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it sweetly. The sheet beneath them was soaked with pre-cum.

Marshall raised his eyes to Lee’s lust-laden orbs, so dark they were almost purple. He didn’t need to ask to know what Lee wanted. He swallowed him whole, taking Lee’s cock into his mouth up to the root. Lee arched his back. With his free hand, he grabbed Marshall’s long hair and held on tight as he thrust upward, fucking Marshall’s mouth.

Marshall sucked as Lee fucked his mouth hard, harder. When Lee came, he swallowed every last drop and licked him clean, like a cat with cream.

“Your turn, boy.” Lee smiled.

to be continued

Now go visit the other Briefers, see what's shaking!

Friday, November 21, 2014

Guest Blogger: M.A. Church

My good friend and fellow author M.A. Church is back. Her best-selling novella Priceless has been released in German! Please welcome her back to Full Moon Dreaming!

Money may be able to buy many things, except true love. And true love is…


Hey everyone! I’ve very pleased to announce Dreamspinner has translated Priceless into German. The release date is November 25thPriceless is a romance in which mortals, immortals, and the Greco-Roman god, Cupid himself, find hot sex, overwhelming passion, and, of course, love.

Funken sprühen, als Amor seinen Pfeil auf zwei Sterbliche in Las Vegas richtet: Randy Jones, ein ganz normaler junger Mann im Wochenendurlaub, schaut am Würfeltisch in Garretts Augen und es ist um ihn geschehen. All seinen Prinzipien zum Trotz lässt er sich auf ein leidenschaftliches, zweitägiges Abenteuer mit Garrett ein – und stellt erschüttert fest, dass er sich verliebt hat.

Der zynische Milliardär Garrett Shiffler hat alles, was man sich mit Geld kaufen kann. Da ihn andere Menschen vor allem als Geldquelle betrachten, hat er den Glauben an Unschuld und Liebe schon vor langer Zeit verloren. Doch als Randy verschwindet und ihn mit unerwarteten Gefühlen zurücklässt, nimmt er sich vor, Randy für sich zu gewinnen – und diesmal muss er mit seinem Herzen anstatt seinem Bankkonto kämpfen.

Währenddessen fragt sich Amor, was geschehen ist. Seine Pfeile verfehlen niemals ihr Ziel, es sei denn, das Schicksal selbst greift ein. Wenn Garrett Randy zurückgewinnen möchte, ist er auf sich allein gestellt, denn jetzt kann ihm selbst Amor nicht mehr helfen.

Blurb (in English, lol):
Sparks ignite when Cupid takes aim at two mortals in Las Vegas: Randy Jones, an average guy on a company vacation, looks into Garrett’s eyes at a craps table and time stands still. Throwing aside everything he believes, Randy engages in a torrid two-night affair with Garrett—only to panic when he realizes he’s fallen in love.
Cynical billionaire Garrett Shiffler has everything money can buy, and most of his dates can’t see past the dollar signs. Life has taught him that innocence and love are figments of the imagination. But when Randy disappears, taking with him feelings Garrett thought he’d never know, Garrett wages the most important battle of his life to win Randy's love—but this time he fights with his heart, not his bank account.
Meanwhile, Cupid wonders what happened. His golden arrows never fail unless the Fates interfere. If Garrett wants to win Randy back, he’s going to have to do it on his own, because the Fates have other plans for Cupid.

M.A. Church
M.A. Church is a true Southern belle who spent many years in the elementary education sector. Now she spends her days lost in fantasy worlds, arguing with hardheaded aliens on far-off planets, herding her numerous shifters, or trying to tempt her country boys away from their fishing poles. It’s a full time job, but hey, someone’s gotta do it!
When not writing, she’s exploring the latest M/M novel to hit the market, watching her beloved Steelers, or sitting glued to HGTV. That’s if she’s not on the back porch tending to the demanding wildlife around the pond in the backyard. The ducks are very outspoken. She’s married to her high school sweetheart, and they have two children.
She was a finalist in the Rainbow awards for 2013.

Visit M.A. at her blog
Twitter @nomoretears00

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Tease Me Thursday #37: Don't Look Back

Hello and welcome to Tease Me Thursday, where authors can show you their 7 - 7 words, 7 sentences, or 7 paragraphs. Whether a WIP or a published story, we're here to entice and amuse and titillate. It's almost Friday, let the party begin!

Don't Look Back

This week, I bring you more of my continuing flash, Don't Look Back, about a couple with an unusual relationship. In today's snippet, they're visiting San Antonio, a combination of business and pleasure, and they're at the hotel. Enjoy!

When he looked up, he saw Lee had also stripped, and wore only a black pair of boxers. Feeling Marshall’s eyes on him, he turned in a small circle, affording Marshall a better view. And what a view it was! Marshall licked his lips, his mouth going suddenly dry.

“Um, wow,” he managed to say as he swallowed. The desire to lick Lee’s ass was overwhelming, and his cock began to rise accordingly, filling the front of his boxers rather nicely. Not like he could hide his condition, so he didn’t bother.

He took a step toward Lee, and then another, his hands stretching toward that luscious flesh, wanting to touch so badly he could taste it, but Lee sidestepped him easily. Marshall pushed out his lip in a pout and Lee caught it, pressing their mouths together in a slow-burning kiss, a simmering fire that threatened to flame when properly kindled. Lee’s hands caressed Marshall’s bare ass, his fingers sliding into the crack, over his hole.

Marshall shuddered with need, moaning into Lee’s mouth.

He expected Lee to walk him backward, toward the king-size bed that dominated the room, push him onto it, and then let the fun begin… But Lee surprised him. He released him instead and took a step back.

“I’ve changed my mind. We’re going out.”

Going out? What! Why?

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Wednesday Briefs: Don't Look Back #22 (5.1)

Hello and Happy Hump Day one and all! I can't believe how fast this week is going, the weekend will be here before we know it! Hopefully, sans snow!  But in the meantime, let's warm ourselves on the heat of some flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers!

But first.... a giveaway. As today is my birthday, I've decided to have some fun. I'd like to give two commenters their choice of anything from my backlist, including Be My Human. To qualify, just make a comment on my flash. And don't forget to leave your email address!  I shall select the winners over the weekend!

This week, Marshall and Lee head to San Antonio for some fun in the big city in Don't Look Back. Remember, this story contains adult themes, and it isn't for everyone. Then see what the other Briefers have been up to. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!

Don't Look Back #22 (5.1)

Marshall and Lee loved the Crockett Hotel for its proximity to the Alamo, as well as its amenities. It was right next door to the shrine, a few blocks from the Riverwalk. They’d taken the cruise a few times—a relaxing way to take in the sights.

They carried their discreetly wrapped purchases through the busy lobby. At one time, this had been an open courtyard. Now it was a six-story atrium with a skylight, where people mingled.

“Want to get a drink after we take these up?” Lee nodded toward the bar across the way.

Marshall considered the idea for maybe two seconds. “Nah, I’d rather stay up in the room. “ Lee’s smile at his words warmed him; he knew they’d have a much better time there than at some bar.

“We can always send for drinks if we want ‘em.” Lee motioned toward the elevators, and Marshall followed. He juggled their packages to press the up button. Their room was on the fifth floor, and the balcony overlooked the Alamo. They tried to request the same room whenever they could.

Once inside their room, Marshall dropped everything on the bed, made a beeline to the bathroom, and took a refreshing piss. He heard Lee’s phone through the closed door. Wonder who that can be? Hope nothing’s wrong.

By the time he’d washed his hands and exited the bathroom, Lee was already off the phone. Marshall arched questioning eyebrows.

“That was the garage. We can pick up the car in the morning.”

That was good news. Meant they wouldn’t have to take cabs any more. He liked that idea.

Lee had opened one of their packages. In his hands, he held a gray pair of boxers. “Strip, boy,” he said softly.

Marshall started to protest, what about you, but he held his tongue and did as he was told. Once he removed his clothes, Lee handed him the underwear and he slipped them on. Not having an ass felt odd at first, but also strangely liberating.

When he looked up, he saw Lee had also stripped, and wore only a black pair of boxers. Feeling Marshall’s eyes on him, he turned in a small circle, affording Marshall a better view. And what a view it was! Marshall licked his lips, his mouth going suddenly dry.

“Um, wow,” he managed to say as he swallowed. The desire to lick Lee’s ass was overwhelming, and his cock began to rise accordingly, filling the front of his boxers rather nicely. Not like he could hide his condition, so he didn’t bother.

He took a step toward Lee, and then another, his hands stretching toward that luscious flesh, wanting to touch so badly he could taste it, but Lee sidestepped him easily. Marshall pushed out his lip in a pout and Lee caught it, pressing their mouths together in a slow-burning kiss, a simmering fire that threatened to flame when properly kindled. Lee’s hands caressed Marshall’s bare ass, his fingers sliding into the crack, over his hole.

Marshall shuddered with need, moaning into Lee’s mouth.

He expected Lee to walk him backward, toward the king-size bed that dominated the room, push him onto it, and then let the fun begin… But Lee surprised him. He released him instead and took a step back.

“I’ve changed my mind. We’re going out.”

Going out? What! Why?

Lee gently stroked Marshall’s cheek, as if sensing his dismay. “I want you to simmer until it’s time to boil. And if you can keep a lid on it, and not give me any trouble…”

Marshall hung on Lee’s every word, hardly daring to breathe.

“… then I’ll let you eat me out to your heart’s content.”

“Oh lordy,” Marshall whispered. “Where do you want to go?”

Ten minutes later, they left the hotel and strolled the short distance to the Riverwalk. Lee talked about plugging Marshall, but  decided against it and placed a cock ring on him instead. Marshall could feel it with every step, but he decided that was better than having his anus stimulated by the plug and no way to relieve the pressure. The cock ring was insurance against bad behavior on his part, as well… such as coming without permission.

It was a pleasant walk, and ordinarily one Marshall thoroughly enjoyed. But he had a bit too much on his mind to appreciate the beauty of the scenery they passed. Lee walked just slightly ahead of him. Not because he didn’t wish to be seen with Marshall, far from it, and Marshall knew better. It was to afford Marshall a mouthwatering view of his magnificent ass. Just knowing that nothing lay between those splendid cheeks and the material of his trousers caused Marshall’s cock to throb with need and desire.

The Riverwalk contained a number of businesses, and customers roamed from store to store, drinking in the atmosphere. Umbrella-shaded tables lined the river, where people sat and laughed, ate and drank, enjoying the view.

Much as Marshall was doing, just in a different way.

This was a game they liked to play. This anticipation of pleasure to come, holding desire in check, increasing need to fever pitch. Which would make everything that came after that much better.

Marshall restrained a moan as he watched Lee’s long-legged movements, the sexy sway of his hips… seemingly innocent but filled with so much innuendo if you knew where to look. And Marshall knew exactly where to look. And he knew exactly what awaited him between those sweet cheeks.

He was determined to have that, no matter what.

When Lee stopped walking and motioned Marshall to an empty table along the river, he gritted his teeth and sat, offering Lee his best smile. Under guise of showing him something on the menu, Lee slid his hand along Marshall’s thigh. Marshall bit back a moan.

“Ready to go back to the room?” Lee whispered.

Marshall nodded his willingness, not trusting his voice not to betray him.

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers have been up to!


Virtual Book Tour: Olympus Confidential

Please welcome author Robert B. Warren, who is here to talk about his new release, Olympus Confidential, and to answer my infamous Rick Reed questions. I have to say this book looks fascinating. I have a copy and will be reading it, so I'll post my review when I do!  Robert will be awarding a $50 Amazon GC, plus a print or digital copy of book 1 or book 2 of the series to one randomly drawn commenter. Fifteen runnersup will receive a ebook of book 1 or book 2, winners' choice. The more often you comment, the better your chances of winning. To find the other stops on the tour, go here. Look for the rafflecopter at the end of this post.

The Questions  
     1.    You’re marooned on a small island with one person and one item of your choice—who is that person and what item do you have? 

That's a good question. I'd have to say Lara Croft from the Tomb Raider video game series. She's a born survivor, a master strategist, and a bonafide engine of destruction. She's also drop dead gorgeous. For the most part, I'd  be relegated to the role of Lara's personal cheering section, and I'm perfectly fine with that. As far as items go, I'd have to say a hatchet. You can chop wood, hack through dense vegetation, and julienne various root vegetables. How could you go wrong?  

2. Which musical would you say best exemplifies your life – and which character in that musical are you? 

Definitely the Phantom of the Opera. Since becoming a writer, I've been spending more and
more time alone--and when I do go out in public, I rarely announce it. I basically come and go like the wind--like a phantom, if you will. I guess that would also make me a ninja of sorts. A phantom ninja...there's a story in there somewhere.

3. Take these three words and give me a 100 word or less scenario using them:  insurance, owed, talk 

Ah, this sounds fun! Let's see...Batman lost his entire fortune due to a failed perpetual energy project and owed the government enough money to fill Scrooge McDuck's coffers. With few job options available to him, poor Bruce became an insurance salesman and tried to talk Aquaman into getting flood insurance. 

4. What is your idea of how to spend romantic time with your significant other? 

That's easy! A two-player co-op game of Halo while eating all manner of junk food. Or maybe watching a so-bad-it's-good movie while scarfing down the aforementioned junk food. Karaoke is also a fine choice. Earth, Wind and Fire all day! 

5. When you start a new story, do you begin with a character, or a plot? 

I usually start with a basic concept. Then I consider how the world I plan to create operates.  What kind of government does it have? What's the overall culture? What are the subcultures and countercultures? Does the story take place during a time of war or a time of peace? There are many more examples, but those are some of the most important ones. Once those questions have been answered, I start crafting the character. I want the character to be a product of his/her environment, so that's why I start with the latter.  

6. If they were to make the story of your life into a movie, who should play you? 

Denzel Washington of course. He and I are virtually twins...Yeah, I'm really reaching with that one. 

7. Who’s your favorite horror villain and why? 

Jerry Dandridge from the original Fright Night. He wasn't just a cool vampire. He was the cool vampire--a sharp dresser and a quintessential lady's man. I could compare him to a great white shark. One minute he's gliding around, smooth as you like. The next, he's sprouting fangs and eating half the neighborhood.

8. Do you have an historical crush and if so, who is it?

Nefertiti. The first time I saw the bust of her, I thought, "Good googly-moogly! Look at that neck! Look those cheekbones!" Or something to that extent. Everything about her screams strength and elegance. The perfect historical crush. 

9. Is there a story that you’d like to tell but you think the world isn’t ready to receive it?

Not at all. The world is a big place full of diverse people. No matter what an author writes, there's always at least one person who's ready and willing to receive it.

by Robert B. Warren



When a band of super-powered humans stirs up trouble in New Olympia, Zeus knows just who to call.

Wisecracking private investigator Plato Jones is used to cleaning up the gods' messes. But this might be his most dangerous case yet, placing him deep behind enemy lines, in Tartarus Maximum Security Penitentiary. After infiltrating the enemy's organization, Plato inches closer to the truth. But he learns a hard lesson along the way: to defeat a villain, he might have to become one himself.

Olympus Confidential skillfully weaves humor and Greek mythology into this fast-paced fantasy. Whether new or returning to the Plato Jones series, fans of thrillers, contemporary fantasy, and Greek mythology will have a tough time putting this one down.



Herc and I were meeting up for drinks. Our pal Geno had planned to join us, but got sidelined by a sudden case of worms—a common health problem among satyrs. I decided to make up for his absence by drinking twice as much.

The sacrifices I make in the name of friendship.

No less than a dozen paparazzi loitered near the bar’s entrance, a sign that Herc had already arrived.  

As always, Napoleon, the minotaur bouncer, kept the parasites at bay. He had been allowed to keep his job after the change in ownership. I was glad. The place wouldn’t have been the same without him.

As I neared the entrance, a paparazzo began snapping pictures of me. 

“Plato, over here!” one of them exclaimed. “Think you and Aphrodite will ever get back together?”

At the mention of the Love Goddess’s name, the other photographers turned their cameras on me. They bombarded me with questions about her and me.

“Are you still in love with her?”

“Is she as kinky as they say?”

“Is it true you two have a secret love child?”

I ignored them and stepped up to the door. Napoleon nodded.

“Evening, Plato,” he said. “How’s it going?”

“Ask me in an hour.”

Napoleon returned the minotaur equivalent of a grin. It looked more like a grimace. He opened the door for me. None of the so-called journalists attempted to follow me inside. They were a lot of things—pushy, obnoxious, disrespectful—but stupid was not one of them.

The bar was filled to capacity—a fifty-fifty mix of humans and nonhumans. “I’ll See You in My Dreams” by Giant poured from unseen speakers, barely rising above the rich hum of many conversations going on at once.

All the usual suspects were present. Most greeted me with waves or hellos. One of the longtime regulars, a steelworker named Mitch, gave me a hearty slap on the back and called me an asshole.

Yep. We were one big, happy bar family.

Hercules, the half-human son of Zeus, was having a beer at the bar. One of the most powerful beings in existence, he had performed countless acts of heroism over a life that spanned several millennia. His ferocity, honor, and cunning were the stuff of legend. Most people regarded him as the world’s first superhero.

To me, he was just Herc, my best friend and a cheapskate extraordinaire.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

A fan of thrillers, fantasy, and science fiction, Robert B. Warren has been writing stories ever since he could hold a pencil. In 2009, he received a Bachelor of Arts degree in English and creative writing from the University of Alabama. He currently lives in the south.

a Rafflecopter giveaway