Monday, August 8, 2011

Ranch Hands Review


Ranch Hands    
Author: S.L. Danielson
Publisher: S.L. Danielson
American release date: July 19, 2010
Format/Genre/Length: Novel/M/M Romance/167 pages  (also available in e-book)
Publisher/Industry Age Rating: NR (my suggestion is Older Teens and up)
Overall Personal Rating: ☆☆☆☆

Sid Rosen’s in a world of trouble. The farm is mortgaged to the hilt thanks to the gambling habits of his late father, and the payments are six months overdue. A terrible drought has more than taken its toll on everyone, and Sid is a desperate man. He can’t work the farm alone, and he can’t afford to hire anyone. Catch 22—what’s a guy to do?

Synopsis:

Sid lives alone on the ranch, with only his dog for company, and has ever since his last lover took off for parts unknown a year before, without a word or a note of good-bye. Forced into the only solution that he can see, Sid places an ad for a live-in ranch hand, whose only recompense will be room and board: it’s all that he can afford. Not surprisingly, he doesn’t receive any takers, until Roger Laramie spots Sid’s ad and calls.

Roger and his own dog join Sid at the ranch, and the two men start working to salvage the farm. Roger’s a hard worker, but the trouble is, he’s also more than a pretty face—he has ideas about how to bring the ranch back to life. Sid resents his ideas, and resents being told what to do with his land, so they butt heads. But with time comes wisdom, and the two form a partnership—in more ways than one—working together to bring the ranch to fruition once more.

A loud-mouthed slutty town drunk, the hardships inherent in farming, unwelcome blasts from the past as well as the trials of beginning a relationship where trust is essential but also hard to give push Sid and Roger to the limits. Will they work past their issues, or will they succumb to them, and the ranch as well?



Commentary:

Ranch Hands is a love story, but it’s also a story about survival, and doing what you have to do to get by. Nothing comes easy, and everything has a price. S.L. Danielson draws her characters in broad strokes. She isn’t one for details, more of a cut-to-the-chase kind of writer. So if you’re looking for finesse, or subtlety, don’t look here. But if you like a story that gets to the heart of the matter, and doesn’t waste time with getting there, you’ll like her style.
Sid and Roger could be any other two people in love. Love stories are universal, and it doesn’t matter what gender the couple involved is, whether two men, two women, or a man and a woman. It’s what’s in the heart that counts. S.L. shows us what is in the hearts and minds of Sid and Roger; by the end of the book we feel as if we’ve come to know and like them, and you’ll find yourself cheering them on through all the difficult times and difficult people.

I give this 4.5 s.



Sunday, August 7, 2011

Sci Fi Sunday - Reality Check Continues

Good morning and welcome to another edition of Sci Fi Sunday! Today we have another excerpt from our continuing saga of the planet known as Reality Check, and our heroes, Reno and Kay. Sui Lynn and I hope that you're enjoying this weekly feature, and our story - feel free to comment!

Reality Check




I feel as if I’m about to lose my ever-loving princely mind. I’ve never in my life felt anything quite like this before, although I’m not sure where this submissiveness is coming from. My royal ego is screaming who ordered this nonsense, but I tell it hush, staring into those beautiful golden eyes, losing myself in them. So beautiful.

He kisses me ever so gently, and sweeps me up into his arms, and I know this has never happened to me before. I’ve always been the one to be in charge, to call the shots. But there is just something about this Reno that’s getting to me. He’s careful to hold the back of my skirt closed in order to prevent a draft. Our lips remain locked, as we head off to paradise and… and what the blazes is this? My sister and her escort have suddenly arrived, pushing their way through the branches, joining us under the tree.

I’m not quite sure which of them is the most surprised, Luci or the brother. He looks at Reno and demands, “Where do you think you’re going and in all the guardian’s hells what are you doing?

Before he can say a word, my sister has opened her big mouth, and proceeds to really embarrass me.  “Kay, I knew that you… I mean, I’ve always known that you … prefer men… but knowing it and seeing it are like two different things, and omigosh, that is just so incredibly sexy.” She takes a breath, and I watch as she swallows—hopefully her tongue—but no such luck. “What are you…  I mean where are you….” She gets tangled in her words, then gives up. “Oh good lord, stop that for a minute and help get me out of this predicament!” Then the child stamps her foot.

Reno looks at me. “What, does it run in the family?” I can’t help but blush.

Okay, I have to think, have to think, have to think, but my head is just swimming so much it’s hard. The more my sister talks, the more that I feel reality set in and I wriggle in Reno’s arms so much that I suddenly find myself on the ground. A rather indelicate “Oomph” escapes my lips, nothing more.

Reno drops to his knees besides me. Oh dear, I’m actually in the grass, aren’t I? He’s apologizing to me for dropping me, I wish I were still in his arms.

Reno’s brother is yelling now. “What are you going to tell Mother? She’s going to have your ass for this… and mine too!”

Luci feels the need to speak, apparently, did no one ever tell her that women should be seen and not heard? “Oh why is life so horrible?” she wails in her overly dramatic fashion. “Look, no offense to you,” she addresses Reno directly, “but I don’t want to marry you. It’s again… against my… um, principles of virginity.”

My jaw drops to the ground—which at this point isn’t all that far—but I pull myself together and recover my aplomb, rather admirably if I do say so myself. Let’s just take a breath here, shall we? I turn my attention to Reno, where I’ve wanted it to be this entire time, and I nuzzle his neck lightly, inhaling his delightfully sensuous fragrance.

Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a thick arm encircles Reno’s lovely throat, and a deep voice warns, “Back away from the Prince, very slowly. Perhaps I shall let you live.” It’s a newcomer to the party. Swyddogh, of course. Where the hell has he been?

Things begin to move in slow motion, as Reno grabs Swy’s arm, shielding my body with his own, and his brother grabs for his dagger. But it’s not there. Reno slowly rises, then throws an elbow back into his assailant’s ribs and with a lurch he throws my bodyguard over both our heads. He ends up lying before me, on his back, looking up into my eyes, as Reno smugly comments, “If this is the best you’ve got, your highness, you need better.”

His brother grabs for Reno’s arm. “We’d better be going. That’s his bodyguard you just assaulted, Reno. Plus we need to discuss what the hell we’re going to do.”

At the same time, both Luci and I cry out, “NOOOOOOOOOO!” Panic stricken, I  gaze up into Reno’s lovely eyes and comment regretfully, “I’ve got better, I was going to show you.”  I feel like both Luci and I are coming undone. I hope someone here has a calm head, ‘cause it’s not us.

The brother—what is his blasted name?—throws up his hands. “Okay, everybody calm down. We can’t talk about this here and Prince Cailean, you need to do something about this guy that’s growling at us. Is there someplace we can all go, somewhere away from the crowd?

Humph. Peasant. I give him one of my superior prince looks. “That, for your information, is my bodyguard and valet, Swyddogh. Where I go he goes. Well, within reason.” I whisper this last to Reno, as if to reassure him that there will not be three in the pleasure bed. “We may go inside, there are rooms in the palace where we will not be disturbed. Swy will make sure of that.”

Swyddogh nods, but I notice he gives Reno a wary look. Reno nods back, and now we’re all headed toward the palace. Reno gently helps me to my feet.  He wraps his arm around my waist, and kisses my temple; I lean against him, so very drawn to him that I would be inside his skin if I could, but the best I can manage at this moment is to be by his side. “So what are we going to tell them, my prince? I want you… I’m assuming you want me. But where do we go from  here, my beautiful princeling?”

My urge to be with Reno is very strong, I find that I’m unable and unwilling to separate from him. This passion is overruling every bit of judgment I possess, although some might say that isn’t very much, but those people are just jealous. This is an unusual position that I find myself in. Never before with the other men I have been with have I found myself in this position. I’ve always called the shots, always made the rules. But now I feel like I’m up in a tree, waiting for a large bird to carry me away—in other words, I have no idea what to do. “I do want to be with you,” I admit to him with unaccustomed candor, surprising even myself. “We have to… that is, we will… do something to ensure that we can be together.” I feel more sure of myself, even as I speak. “Yes, we shall be together.”

I think to glance at my sister and his brother. They seem rather cozy. Too cozy maybe. But perhaps that might work out to our advantage.

Reno gives me a bemused glance.  “I can see those wheels turning.” I smile enigmatically.

We enter the palace through a less used entrance, and down a hall, around a corner and into the library, Reno leading the way. Swy takes up a position just outside the door, once we enter the room. A large wooden desk sits in the middle of the room, while along each wall are floor to ceiling book shelves; our privacy is ensured by the complete lack of  windows. Good thinking on Reno’s part. He leads me to the desk and leans against it, pulling me in between his thighs. Luci and whatshisname take a seat on the leather sofa across from the desk, my sister sitting far too close for my taste.

“What are you thinking?” Reno whispers to me.

I glare at the two on the sofa, but return my attention and focus it upon Reno. “Well, I was thinking that my parents have given permission for you to court my sister, is that not so?”

Reno nods.

“So,” I continue, “there’ll be no problem with you coming to the palace on a regular basis. To see my sister.” Although I emphasize sister, I mean me, of course. “My sister cannot possibly see you without a chaperone. It wouldn’t be proper to do so. Therefore, I shall be her chaperone. And you must have one as well, in order to preserve propriety. Perhaps your brother?” I think he’s beginning to get a feel for the scheme now. I mark a trail along his jaw with my lips, losing myself in the moment. I hear my sister giggling, but I choose to ignore her.

“Mmm, you have a devious mind, I like that. Okay, so I come and visit, bringing Jaou with me. We do whatever it is we have planned in the eyes of your parents and then each go on our own ways?” I hear Reno’s moan as those kisses send shivers through his body that I can feel, and I suspect are responsible for making his cock stand up tall and proud as well.
.
“That’s brilliant,” the brother pipes up.  Jaou, I have to try to remember that. “As long as it’s okay with you, Luci. I wouldn’t dream of overstepping myself. I would be most honored to be able to spend time with one as lovely as you.” Oh brother.

I dart a glance at my sister, she’s blushing.

“I would be very  happy  to spend time with someone as handsome as you, Jaou.” She gives me a look, sees my unhappy scowl, and quickly attempts to forestall anything on my part.  “Knock it off, Kay! I’m not a child anymore! I grew up while you were away at school!”

I guess she did. A lot has happened in four years. Hell, a lot has happened here, in just a very short time. I feel as though my whole life has been turned upside down, but in a very pleasant way.

I continue to kiss Reno, the soft flesh beneath his chin, and down his neck. My hand seems to have a mind of its own; it tries to insinuate itself beneath Reno’s skirt. It’s probably just as well that we’re not in a really good position to do this, since there are witnesses in the room, one of whom is my baby sister.

“I think that’s a wonderful plan,” he agrees.

No one asks the obvious question—if a wedding date is set, what then? That seems too distant an eventuality to worry about at the moment. For right now, these arrangements are more than satisfactory.

§§§§§

“Of course it’s a wonderful plan, my princeling, you thought of it,” I tease him, whispering my taunts into his ear, for him alone to hear. “But it’s such a beautiful mind to hide such deviousness.”

“So everything is settled then, yes?” Jaou asks. “We have a plan. So who’s going to make nice with the crowd?”

As if he isn’t listening to anyone but me, my sweet prince whispers to me, “When will I be able to have you?” He touches me, mesmerized by me, his fingers trailing through the layers and multicolor of my hair. I know part of it’s the pheromones but not all. Not all.

“You know I don’t want to leave, I want to stay, but there’s no way we can do this tonight. We’ll come back soon. Maybe we can arrange to go riding in the country, or on a picnic? Would you like that, my little princeling? Then I’ll have you all to myself.” I kiss his temple, and each eye, and then the tip of his perky little nose, before I settle on devouring his lips. I nibble hungrily at his lower lip until I hear a small whimper escape them.

“Picnic and riding,” my brother affirms, “Yes, that sounds good. We can make that work.”

“You like that, my princeling?” I ask again.

Before Kay can reply either in the affirmative or otherwise, a snort is heard coming from the direction of the couch. A very unladylike snort, especially for a princess. All heads turn toward her, and Kay glowers.

“Kay ride? Make me laugh!” She snorts again. “I don’t think he knows one end of a horse from the other.” She continues to giggle, while my prince grows redder and redder, attempting to hide his face against my chest. I find it cute, although I suspect what his sister has said to be the truth, hence his embarrassment.

“You don’t ride? Never?” I give my brother a dismayed look. How can someone live in this world and not know how to ride a horse? Vehicles have become scarce in recent years as it has become ever harder to get parts with which to repair them. Horses, bicycles and carriages have become the primary mode of transportation. How can my little princeling not know how to ride?  “Well, if you truly don’t know, I guess I’ll just have to teach you.”

Now it’s Jaou’s turn to snort. “You teach? Yeah, right. Remember when you tried to teach me how to ride a bike last year. You damn near got me killed telling me to ride alongside of the river. You never told me how to stop. I damn near went off the cliff into the water.”

“But I like my little princeling,” I counter snarkily. “You were just being a pain in the ass. You’d been asking me for months, harping at me every time I turned around, begging me to teach you.”

Having lost this argument with me, my brother turns to the girl who sits beside him. “Do you ride, Luci?” Suddenly, he sounds shy. What’s up with that? I’ll have to give him shit for that. Except then he’d probably kid me about Kay. Maybe not such a good idea.

Luci offers him a demure yet provocative smile. “I ride very well, thank you.” Her tone leaves little doubt as to what she thinks of her brother’s lack of equestrianship. “I would love to ride with you, Jaou, and show you how well I ride.”

Kay begins to squawk, his feathers having been ruffled. “I don’t think I like the sound of that,  young lady!”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and links her arm inside of Jaou’s, snuggling closer to him, perhaps partially with the intention of pissing her brother off, but most apparently because of an attraction to my brother. Her flirting and wanton looks melt my concerns for my brother’s feelings in this scheme.

I see surprise on my brother’s face, and I suspect he’s feeling rather on top of the world as he draws her hand to his lips for a light kiss. Then he leans over and gently brushes his lips across her hair, chastely. He clutches her arm to his chest. “I’m glad you ride so well. We’ll be able to show these two how it’s done.” He chuckles, taking pleasure at Kay’s reddening face. I shall have to chastise him for that, later.

“Don’t worry, I’m an excellent teacher,” I whisper into Kay’s ear reassuringly. My tongue outlines the outer edge of that same ear, I feel Kay’s breathing catch at my touch. “I’m sure you’ll be riding soon… and not just horses.”

Kay’s face goes from embarrassed red to plumb purple at Jaou’s apparent familiarity with his sister. He makes a move as if to spring at him, but I hold him back with my arms. I soothe him, petting and nuzzling into his hair until he’s calm and makes no further attempt to jump on Jaou. He continues to glance hostilely at Jaou, in his best haughty prince manner. I’m getting used to it; he means no harm, really. And he’s so pretty when he feels powerful.

“Now, little princeling,” I soothe him, “he meant nothing by it… but I did.” I run my hand over his chest, grazing a pert nipple under the fabric, which elicits a hiss from Kay. “I wish we didn’t have to….” Voices outside the door interrupt and four heads swivel towards the door.

There are two voices. One is belligerent, while the other refuses to budge, until at last the first voice recedes into the distance, and Kay’s man pops his head through the door.

“Begging  your pardon, your highness, but one of Princess Liusaidh’s so-called suitors is nosing about, seeking her highness. Perhaps it would be best if no one was found here. Better safe than sorry.”

Kay sighs, but he does not disagree. “Very well,” he says, “we’ll be right out. He turns to me, and the look he gives me is very soulful, as if he is pouring out his heart to me. “I must see you again. Soon,” he pleads. My heart aches to have to leave and I can’t imagine how I’m going to find the strength to let him move away from me.

I card through his short dark hair, and look deeply into those soft silver eyes, which can be soft as down one moment, and hard as steel the next. “I need to see you too,” I assure him. “We’ll be together… soon.”  I lean in and Kay turns in my arms, and now we are chest to chest, our lips locked together in a soul touching kiss. As if we are trying to pass a wealth of feelings and assurances between us in a short moment of time. When we look up, Jaou and Luci have risen from the sofa and are gazing into one another’s eyes with a longing only matched by our own. With a reluctant sigh, we approach them.

I offer Princess Liusaidh my arm. “Shall we?”

“Let the farce begin,” Jaou says softly.

to be continued


Don't forget to check out 2 Cents, Sui's blog, as well as our joint blog, Backdoor Divas!

Thanks for stopping by, see you next week! 

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Guest Blogger Carrie Pulkinen

Welcome if you will Breathless Press author Carrie Pulkinen, who is going to answer an age old question for us. No, not that one! Pull up a chair and sit for a spell, why don't you?  Take it away, Carrie!



Blog Post:

With the recent release of To Catch a Spirit, I've been asked the age-old question time and again. "Which came first?" No, not the chicken or the egg...  

The plot or the characters?

I suppose it's different for every author. Just like everyone has her own view on the chicken vs. egg dilemma. You have to have chickens to make eggs. And they use the eggs to procreate. So it must have been the chicken, right? But how can you have a chicken without first having an egg? My theory? The eggs created the chickens in order to create more eggs! ;)

The same is true with plot and characters. You can't have characters running around doing nothing. There has to be a plot. But, how do you determine which direction the plot will go, if you don't know your characters?

For me, the characters definitely come first. I don't know them inside and out immediately. But we have a vague understanding of each other in the beginning. I usually start with a scenario: a conversation between two people or an incident happening to one character. As I get further along, the characters begin revealing themselves to me. I learn more and more about them each time I sit down and write with them. 

Yes, I said with them. My characters become my friends. We have conversations, as weird as that may sound. I give them the situation, and they tell me how it will play out. Sometimes, I'll get several chapters into a story before a character reveals a vital bit of information about himself. My most recent release, To Catch a Spirit, is a perfect example. I was on chapter three or four before Logan let me on the little secret that he has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I remember, very vividly, sitting at my computer, writing a scene with him, and going, "Huh? I didn't know that!"

Of course, that opened up a whole slew of doors that we could go through. So Logan led me on the path of how he manages his disorder and how he eventually overcomes it. The story just wouldn't be the same if I'd had it all plotted out without really knowing my characters.

And once I know my players, the story writes itself. It's already there... wherever "there" is. All I do is uncover it and put pen to paper (or fingers to keys, as the case may be).

The really exciting part is that I've got tons of characters swimming in my mind, just waiting to tell me their stories!



Blurb – To Catch a Spirit:

Psychic Allison Dupuis has a soft spot for Logan Mitchell, even though she’s never met him. All it takes is one encounter for the millionaire’s true emotions to slip through Allison’s shields, and she is intrigued. He needs her help, but Allison soon discovers that the kind of help Logan needs is the kind she isn’t willing to give. Logan has a ghost, and Allison doesn’t work with spirits anymore.

But the ghost is the least of Logan’s problems. Born an empath, Logan is constantly barraged with human emotions. And while his talent has come in handy in the business world, it’s about to drive him insane. Literally. Logan has OCD, and his ability triggers unbearable attacks that have him counting and cleaning until he collapses from exhaustion.

Sex and money. That’s all anyone wants from him. Even worse, he’s plagued with recurring visions of his future wife’s death, so Logan has spent his entire life avoiding love. He’s given up hope of ever having a normal life, until he meets Allison. She’s everything he’s ever dreamed of, and now he has to decide if loving her is worth risking her life.

If she’ll even have him. Allison’s lost too much already – her mother to cancer, her father to suicide. But, Logan is so charming and so real, she can’t help but fall for him. Now she has to overcome her fear of commitment…and ghosts…or face spending the rest of her life alone.



Excerpt:

She sensed them as they drew closer to her—many different spirits, their energy buzzing on varying frequencies.

"One at a time, guys. Please." she said. But they didn’t listen. These were the spirits of the mentally ill, after all. Taking turns wasn’t their concern, and they all rushed her. She felt their presence closing in on her like an avalanche, and she was consumed. Every mental illness imaginable was thrown into her psyche as she tightened her grip on Gage’s hand and slumped down in her chair.

"Allison! Allison, are you okay?" Gage’s voice was a distant echo as she fought to hold on to herself. She was slipping. Sliding into the depths of despair and the spirits were pulling her down.

"It’s… No… There’s a light… You need to… You need to go to it." She tried to help the spirits cross over, but they wouldn’t listen. There were too many. Twenty at least, and they were so consumed by their own illnesses they thought of nothing else. Paranoia, depression, anxiety. Allison felt it all, and it was going to kill her. The pressure. So hard to breath. Her hands cradled her head as the migraine overtook her. Sharp, pounding pain had her crumpled on the floor as she drew her knees into her chest and rocked back and forth.

"Make it stop. Please, just make it stop." She was paralyzed. Frozen by the anguish of the tortured souls that forced themselves upon her. Hot tears streamed down her face and blood trickled from her nose. She gasped for air as she heard a faint voice call, "Get her out of here!"




Author Bio:

Carrie Pulkinen has always been fascinated with the paranormal. Of course, when you grow up next door to a cemetery, the dead (and the undead) are hard to ignore. Pair that with her passion for writing and her father’s insatiable love for monster movies, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for an exciting storyteller.
When she’s not writing stories of amazing sex with devilishly handsome men, Carrie likes to read, take pictures, and play with her kids. She also enjoys hearing from her readers, who can write to her at carrie.pulkinen@hotmail.com.



Carrie welcomes all comments, questions and suggestions!

Thanks for being here, Carrie, and for sharing with us! Best of luck with your new release! Y'all come back now, y'hear?

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Back in the Saddle Again

I just got back from Indiana yesterday, after a great visit with my daughter Katie, who lives there. We had a great time. Went to a place called HuHot - it's like a Chinese buffet, but the difference is  you pick out exactly what you want to eat, and what sauces you want, put it into a bowl, and the guy in the middle, with the big round cooking surface, cooks it for you. All you can eat. They also bring rice or tortillas to your table, no extra charge. The food was delicious, and fun to watch it being cooked. They even ask if you have food allergies, just in case. One night, for dinner, I baked a chicken with amaretto and lemon; it turned out well. It's nice to get away for a couple of days, no computer access, just people.

But I'm back, so now of course I'm thinking, like I usually do, about different things. And something I've been meaning to comment on ever since it happened.  A lot of people are broken up over the death of Amy Winehouse. I ask myself why? Sure, it's tragic that someone dies before their time, and 27 is certainly too young. But at the same time I look at her life and think - she did it to herself. That may seem harsh to some, who may protest that she was an addict and couldn't help herself. Oh yeah? Well, from what little I saw of her (I wasn't a follower of her career or anything), she seemed to revel in the type of behavior she was supposed to avoid. She seemed to live for that addition. In my book, she made her choices, and she lived by them. Or in this case died.  Do I blame the people in her life for not stepping up? Not if they tried, and I'm guessing they did. She seemed determined to self-destruct, and she did. I'm more angry that she wasted a talent. Her talent should have been her concern, not her lifestyle, but you see where her priority was. Again, her choice.

So why is it that death confers almost automatic sainthood? That you can vilify someone for years but let them kick off, and gee, what a swell person he/she was, I sure miss them. How hypocritical is that? Before she died, the press made no bones about making fun of Princess Diana, the things she did, the people she saw - anything and everything. Hell, even her own husband showed her contempt and disrespect by sleeping with the horse-faced longterm girlfriend (now wife). Seriously? He preferred that to Diana? But then Diana died, and she became almost a goddess. Elvis was at the end of his career - fat, aging, pill-popping, unpopular. His music was going nowhere fast. But death rescued him from all that mediocrity. Now he makes more money, via Graceland, than he did when he was alive.

Go figure.

Look at Michael Jackson - accused child molester, strange hermit with a predilection for surgery. Then suddenly he dies and his records start going like hot cakes. Frankly, I never saw why he was designated the King of Pop. He had some good moments, but king? I don't see it. Before Thriller, he couldn't get anyone to notice him, just a part of the Jackson Five. It's got some decent songs on it, but revolutionary? Hardly. I think the poor man was raked over the coals unnecessarily while alive because of things he couldn't help. I think the surgeries were because he had a pigmentation disease he was trying to control (although he did seem to be trying to be more Caucasian, I must admit). Do I believe he molested little kids? No, I don't. I think he never grew up, and he looked on them as his peers, not sexual objects.  I feel sorry for his kids. They seem to be good kids, with good heads on their shoulders. To be relegated to being raised by that family - I suspect Michael would not be happy about that at all. That family has serious issues. Those kids aren't his biologically, surely. I mean they're white than white. So I guess he paid for the surrogate plus daddies for all of them. I just hope they'll be alright.

Okay, enough ranting. Tomorrow is another Sy Fy Sunday. I'm working on a new collaboration with co-author SL Danielson. The first one, My Fair Vampire, releases October 8th. I can't wait to see the cover - with that special Reese Dante touch. We've just submitted the first book in a new series that we're calling The Mark of Love and are hard at work on the second - it's about two Georgia teens who have to deal with being gay in the rural South.

Besides that, I have a few sequels that I'm working on, as well as continuing the series I had going at Wicked Nights, which aren't there any more, since the publisher went co-op and my stories were taken off the site. I'll finish them and sub them, though, so that's cool. I  have my continuing flash fiction series to work on - Yes He's My Ex and Lust never Sleeps. New Max, new Leo, and new Dark Love. Continuation of Pavane for a Proud Prince. My Insomniac Sommelier story for my Delectable Dishes anthology. And my new story, Cheatin' Heart.

Damn, I love writing!  It's what I was born to do!

Got questions, comments, suggestions? I'd love to hear from you!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Flash Fiction: Lust Never Sleeps #5: Interlude

Happy Wednesday/Hump Day/Silver Flash Day! Glad you could make it!

Today's prompt was given to us by Prompt Diva Lily Sawyer:  "You know what they say, the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Our fearless leader, aka Ryssa Edwards, supplied us with this alternative prompt:   "I know I've said it before, but this really is your last chance.


Last week, in Lust Never Sleeps, we left Sawyer and Darryl in the Church, with Sister Sue. Today, their saga continues.  I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to check out all the Silver Flashers, you'll find their links at the end of  my tale. Now, on to the story!


Interlude




At Sawyer’s words, Darryl turned toward him, perplexed. “We’re catching a plane? Why?”

“I never said plane, love,” Sawyer enigmatically responded, eyes fixed upon his sister. “You’re not going to make me grovel, are you? Surely I’ve done more than enough atonement for the last time.”

Sue snorted. “Not near enough, and you know it. Not if you were to say Hail Mary’s from now ‘til kingdom come.”

“Hardly worth my time, don’t you think?” Sawyer’s voice was smug, a cheeky grin affixed upon his pretty face. “When there are so many better… things… to do with it.” He turned the full battery of his eyes upon the already sinking Darryl, who went down immediately, all hands lost. Happily.

“I know I’ve said it before, but this really is your last chance.”

“Yes, dearest darling sister.”

“Oh dear Sawyer, will you please pay attention?” Somehow the nun’s words were spoken with less irritation than might have been the case, all things considered.

“I am, I am,” he assured her. Darryl blushed under his close scrutiny.

“You know you can’t fly at night.”

“I’m well aware of that, sister of mine,” Sawyer assured her. “We’ll leave at first light. Or shortly thereafter.” He poured more of the dark liquid into Darryl’s glass, refilling his own as well. When Sister Sue tapped the stem of her glass lightly against her desk, he played bartender for her as well, before twining his arm with Darryl’s once more.

“My turn to make the toast,” he said in a sultry voice. “May the dreams that once were be remembered once more, and may this night be the first of many!”

They clinked their glasses together, caught up in one another’s eyes, oblivious to all else.

Sue cleared her throat and rose, pushing her chair in as she did so. “Well, that’s that. You know where your room is, brother, you hardly need me to tuck you in. At least do me the courtesy of telling me good-bye, will you, before you go?” She walked around the desk, adjusting her rosary beads as she did so. “In the meantime I shall pray for both of your souls.”

“Thank you,” both men said at once.

At the door of her office, Sue turned and regarded them. "You know what they say, don’t  you? The best way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

“Only if you’re a very bad surgeon,” Sawyer cheekily commented. “I prefer a more southerly route myself.” He leaned into Darryl, capturing his lips, kissing him long and hard. By the time they came up for air, Sue was gone.

“How will we fly without a plane?” Darryl asked, although this was far from the first question in his mind; but it was the one he allowed himself to ask, priding himself on keeping his libido in check. More or less.

“Tomorrow, my sweet, tomorrow. We have other, more pressing matters tonight,” Sawyer replied.

“What pressing matters?” Darryl tried to ask, but Sawyer’s lips made further discussion unthinkable. And undesirable.

“Come, my love.” Sawyer beckoned. The head-over-heels Darryl followed, without question, as they wound their way into the bowels of this seemingly infinite church, until they reached a chamber, which Sawyer unlocked.

This room was as elegantly furnished as the rest of the building; the largest and most conspicuous piece of furniture being a mahogany four-poster bed which sat in the center. There were mirrors on each wall, as well as upon the ceiling, the gilt frames edged in cherubs. Darryl was surprised to see a computer atop a roll-top desk—an incongruous note in a place that seemed otherwise wrapped in elegance.

“We’re going to sleep?” he wondered aloud.

“We’re going to bed. Not the same thing at all.”

“But about tomorrow, shouldn’t we—?” Darryl’s words were stopped by Sawyer’s lips. He surrendered to the blond’s touch, the ache in his groin advising him not to worry about tomorrow, to live for tonight.

Somehow Sawyer managed to undress them both without disconnecting their lips—no mean feat in and of itself. The next thing Darryl knew, the bedding had been pulled back, and they were lying together upon the softest of sheets, naked, and fully entwined about one another.

Darryl was far from being a virgin—there was ample evidence of that on the internet, much to his chagrin. He’d been with a fair number of lovers in his time. Lover being a relative term, for he’d given none of them his heart. But on this night, he gave it gladly, and most willingly, to Sawyer Thomas.

“Kismet,” Sawyer whispered, nibbling on Darryl’s ear, his hand caressing Darryl’s stiff cock. “Our kismet is to be together. You are the other end of my red string.”

Darryl wasn’t sure what he meant, but it didn’t really matter at the moment. He ached to be taken, to be possessed by Sawyer. It was a primal need within him which he hadn’t known he possessed, but it was certainly making itself manifest now.

In one deft move, Sawyer slid Darryl beneath him, taking the upper hand. Brazenly he rubbed his own throbbing cock against Darryl’s, which only served to drive him even crazier with lust.

“Lust never sleeps,” Sawyer whispered, “and neither shall we. Not tonight, anyway.”

He ran his hands along Darryl’s long firm legs, before raising them to the level of his shoulders, burying himself deep in the heart of Darryl, eliciting a heartfelt cry of pleasure from him.

“Are you the one I’ve waited for, Darryl? My chosen one?” Sawyer mumbled to himself; he filled Darryl’s being with every thrust of his willing cock, dancing to the rhythm of the music in their hearts. He felt his partner’s climax approaching, as well as his own. Now was the time.

“Heart’s fire, eternal love, show to me a sign from above….”

They cried out in mutual orgasms, as suddenly the bed was suffused with a brilliant red glow.

Sawyer smiled triumphantly.


 to be continued


Don't forget to visit the other Silver Flashers for more flash fiction fun!

Sui Lynn  m/m
Lily Sawyer      m/m
Chris Quinton    m/m
Lindsay Klug    m/m


Have any comments or suggestions about our Flash Fiction? I'd love to hear from you!

Until next time, take care!


♥ Julie