Category Archives: Promo
Mid Week Tease: Breaker Zone #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! So I’m still working on Breaker Zone, and I thought you might enjoy seeing the scene where Nick Gardiner first finds out that the world isn’t quite what he always thought it was. Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
When Dr. Nick Gardiner goes on the run from a psychotic ex and ends up at Olympic Cove, the last thing he expects to find is his friend Ian living with two redheaded demigods and learning how to be a storm god. Adding to the confusion is a wounded merman named Aidan who washes up in the cove, requiring Nick’s professional help. As it turns out, the handsome mer and his partner Liam have other plans for the ER doctor — to claim him as their agapetos, their destined mate, and fulfill his need to submit.
A chance encounter at a local junk shop reveals that Nick has his own role to play in the battle against the insane Nereid Thetis. Under the reluctant mentorship of Chiron, Nick must master the use of the Rod of Asclepius if he wants to rescue his mates from a ghastly fate and help Ian save the planet.
###
A loud peal of thunder boomed through the house, making everything vibrate for a second. Nick looked up at the ceiling, wondering if the cottage could handle a lightning strike. “That was close.”
“Yeah, that was,” Ian agreed. “I’m just going to go upstairs, make sure—“ He broke off, turning to his boyfriends. “By? Aph, what’s wrong?”
The two redheads had gone rigid, heads up as if listening to something far off. Bythos broke the stasis first, turning and sprinting for the kitchen. Aphros followed on his heels, both of them stripping off their shirts as they ran. “Stay here!” the blue-eyed twin threw over his shoulder.
Ignoring the order, Ian followed them, Nick lurching in his wake. They both reached the kitchen in time to see By and Aph dashing out the back door. Nick stepped to the window, staring at the storm outside. He could just make out two pale shapes heading for the beach. “Where are they going?”
“I’m not sure. Dammit, I should go with them.”
He turned in time to see Ian yanking off his own shirt. “What? Dude, you cannot go out there,” he blurted. “They shouldn’t be out there, for God’s sake.” A horrible thought occurred to him. “Oh, Jesus. Tell me they’re not going in the water.”
Ian grimaced. “It’s a long story, and I don’t have time to explain it right now. I’m going after them.”
“The hell you are,” Nick snapped, moving to the back door and blocking it. “It’s storming out there, there’s going to be be heavy surf, plus it’s nighttime. I don’t know what they think they’re doing, but I know damn well you’re not trained to swim in that kind of weather.”
The smaller man squared his shoulders. “Get out of my way, Nick.”
“Make me.”
“All right.” Hands suddenly clamped onto his upper arms in an iron grip, and his forearms went numb as he was lifted into the air, spun and deposited away from the door.
“Stay here,” Ian ordered, as if he hadn’t just lifted someone five inches and fifty pounds heavier and moved him like a sack of groceries. “If we aren’t back by morning, call the sheriff’s department, ask for Jimmy Connors. Tell him I’m missing and you need help. He’s a friend, he’ll know what to do.”
He yanked open the back door, just in time to reveal a naked, dripping Aphros. “Move,” the redhead said breathlessly, pushing past him. An equally wet and naked Bythos came through the door next, carrying—
Nick felt his eyes bug. “Oh, my God.”
“Demigod, actually,” Bythos panted, glancing down at the unconscious merman in his arms.
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Marvelous Monday Reads: Open World – C.O.V.E.N.
Yes, it’s Monday once again, angels! Let’s ease into the week with another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads with Open World – C.O.V.E.N. by Casey Moss. Here’s a peek at how Open World came to be:
The world of C.O.V.E.N. (Clans of Vegas – Endless Night) first appeared in Evernight Publishing’s anthology Keyboards & Kink (available here: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/keyboards-and-kink/ & at other fine e-tailers) in Casey’s story, AFK.
In AFK, we saw a peek into I-D-8 Entertainment’s in-production MMORPG: Clans of Vegas – Endless Night, also known as C.O.V.E.N. when Beth and another gamer got sucked into the game for real.
Now, when it comes to Open World, it’s actually made up of parts from two novellas that had been previously published. Those stories were my very first published ones released in 2008 under my alter ego’s name. A few years ago, I received the rights back on them, and they sat in a file until this year. There’s been some major work done to revamp them from a sci-fi’ish plot to the computer gaming one present in the book today. I am so excited these stories, and more to come in the C.O.V.E.N. world, have found new life and a great new home with Evernight Publishing.
In the story, Open World, some of the employees of I-D-8 have joined together for a LAN party to test the game. For definitions on the computer gaming term: open world, check out http://www.techopedia.com/definition/3952/sandbox-gaming.
The world has broken out in wars. Las Vegas has been ravaged by chemical warfare and is now home to several clans and creatures.
Welcome to I-D-8 Entertainment’s newest game: Clans of Vegas—Endless Night.
Friends and family have gathered for a crunch time playtest of C.O.V.E.N.. When a horrible thunderstorm hits, everyone’s sucked into the game for real. In the MMORPG, Hope Collins is kidnapped by Buzz and forced to submit to his whims. Her boyfriend, Alden, has to delay his quest of defeating a clan’s prince to save her, but time and circumstance don’t seem to be on his side. Faith Collins is bombarded by strange dreams brought on by Buzz. Her boyfriend, Tavis, learns to dream walk, but can he help break the spell she’s under and save her before she’s lost to him?
C.O.V.E.N. is more than just a game. It’s a whole other world.
Story Excerpt
He homed in on the guy, and repulsive vibes poured over him. Thoughts, full of ill intent, infiltrated his mind.
The man’s here to claim. Conquer. End game…power.
The prince had changed his name, but to what he didn’t know. He couldn’t fault the man on that kind of switch. He and his buddy, Tavis, had assigned themselves new names, too.
Alias or no, though, the royal’s presence was a cause for high concern.
Does he know of mine and Tav’s existence? Our ultimate mission?
He calmed his thoughts, fixated on the man again. Answer—negative. Good.
The prince didn’t know about the two of them, but the man did have the same plan…make nice with the family to apprehend one of the two daughters, or the cousin if need be.
He snorted. Same plan. Yeah, right. In the prince’s case, his eagerness to have one of the women stemmed from nefarious reasons.
Den’s eyes shot open. The black of the grill and the off-white concrete appeared less vibrant than they had moments before. The light of day dimmed more. He blinked, then looked up. The sky had darkened with the formation of thick gray clouds. The forecast had mentioned a thirty percent chance of showers, but everyone believed if it were to rain it wouldn’t happen until much later or the storm would fizzle after it spent itself in the upper elevations.
Frustrated over his uneasiness due to the perplexing vibes, his trying to rationalize the afternoon and the changing weather, he ran his fingers through his hair.
And what the fuck were all those thoughts about? Mirroring that of my C.O.V.E.N. character and the quests I’ve been on? Nothing like this ever’s happened before. Did the programmers do something to the game to affect us?
As one of the level designers on the development team, he’d been a part of the alpha-testing and minor playtests during the creation process. Mr. Gott, the head honcho of the whole design department, thought implementing a lot of tests along the way would cut down on major changes during the last phases. From what he understood, the closed-beta test he, Mr. Gott and several others had performed a handful of weeks ago to check a couple of clans, hadn’t turned out as well as expected. Hence the LAN party, a crunch time playtest to see what was going on before they implemented another beta run. All the designers and programmers, along with any friends and family members who were interested in giving C.O.V.E.N. a try, were present.
Except if there’s something in the game that’s going to mind fuck everyone, shouldn’t we call it a day? I didn’t sign on for crap like this. I’m sure no one else has either.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
Bookstrand
About Casey Moss
Casey Moss delves into the darker aspects of life in her writing, sometimes basing the stories on reality, sometimes on myth. No matter the path, her stories will take you on a journey from the light-hearted paranormal to dark things unspeakable. What waits around the corner? Come explore…
Where to find Casey Moss
Mid Week Tease: Breaker Zone #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! I thought I’d give you a little more this week from Olympic Cove Book Two, Breaker Zone. Here’s a teaser from Chapter Four, where my favorite ER doctor goes swimming with a handsome but injured merman and they discuss comparative anatomy. Ahem.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
When Dr. Nick Gardiner goes on the run from a psychotic ex and ends up at Olympic Cove, the last thing he expects to find is his friend Ian living with two redheaded demigods and learning how to be a storm god. Adding to the confusion is a wounded merman named Aidan who washes up in the cove, requiring Nick’s professional help. As it turns out, the handsome mer and his partner Liam have other plans for the ER doctor — to claim him as their agapetos, their destined mate, and fulfill his need to submit.
A chance encounter at a local junk shop reveals that Nick has his own role to play in the battle against the insane Nereid Thetis. Under the reluctant mentorship of Chiron, Nick must master the use of the Rod of Asclepius if he wants to rescue his mates from a ghastly fate and help Ian save the planet.
###
A long, thick tail brushed against his legs, scales prickling against his skin. He studied it through the water. “How’s the wound?”
“It feels a lot better.” Aidan rotated, and an elegantly shaped fluke popped above the surface. It waved at Nick before sinking back into the water. “Still aches, though. Want to check it?”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
Aidan closed the distance, taking Nick’s hand and pressing it against his scaled flank. “It’s right here.”
Gently, Nick probed the healing divot in the scaled flesh under his fingers. “Feels like it’s healing really well. But I’d like to take a look at it out of the water, if you don’t mind.”
“No problem. We’ll need to be in the shallows for that, though.” With a twist, he dove under the water and headed for the shore. Pulling himself onto the damp sand with surprising grace, he turned over and leaned back on his arms, sleek fish tail extending into the water. “How’s this?”
“Perfect.” Nick sat down more gingerly on the shifting sand, studying the mer’s tail. It was tinted a deep moss green around his waist, shading to midnight blue at the sleek, powerful flukes. The scales also reflected a rainbow iridescence as they dried, glittering gently in the Florida sun.
The puncture wound showed as a peach-grey interruption in the iridescence. Cautiously, he pressed around it, waiting Aidan’s face for any sign of pain. “This is healing amazingly fast,” he admitted. “Lift up a bit, let me see the other side.”
Aidan rolled onto his other hip. Nick steadfastly ignored the delineated musculature in the mer’s back, focusing on the exit wound. It looked as healed as the entrance wound. He patted Aidan’s thigh/upper tail. “Okay, you can sit back.”
The mer did, and his motion made a slit along the upper front of the tail gap a bit. Inside, something shifted. Nick blinked in surprise. “Is that a cloaca?”
Aidan glanced down at his lap. “Dunno. We call it a pouch.” He ran a finger along the slit, widening it. Inside, Nick could now see a thick, green-tinted penis that shaded to red at the tip. It twitched a bit under his gaze, exactly like a human male’s would.
He leaned closer, fascinated. “Internal genitalia for streamlined swimming. That makes total sense. Does it contain your scrotum, too? How far out can you—” He stopped abruptly, wincing. “Jesus, I’m sorry. That’s intrusive.”
The mer chuckled. “No, you’re just curious, plus you’re a physician. This is, what, comparative anatomy?” He reached into the slit, pulling out his flaccid shaft and stretching it a bit. “When I’m in this shape my sack is attached to the pouch’s inner wall, but my cock comes out when it gets hard.”
“So mers have sex? I mean, in mer form?”
Aidan gave him a “are you shitting me?” look. “Uh, yeah. How do you think we have babies?”
“I wasn’t sure. With your tails, I thought you might do it like fish.”
The merman hooted at that. “Laying eggs and milting them? Gods, do I look like a tuna to you?” He tugged on his cock again, and Nick could see it getting thicker as blood flowed into it. “Trust me, mers like to fuck just as much as humans do.”
Nick felt an answering thickening in his swimsuit. The remembered sensation of a legged Aidan rubbing up against his ass that morning didn’t help. “Yeah, I can see that,” he said hoarsely.
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Mid Week Tease: The Art of Grant Management #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing the last teaser from “The Art of Grant Management,” which will be coming out in Evernight’s Executive Assistant Manlove Edition. And you can thank all the people who kept saying, “We want to see MORE of Peter and Quincy” for this tease!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
“I’m not what you would call … experienced. I’ve played before, but it was some time ago.”
He pulled back and saw a contemplative Quincy. “Are you willing to learn?” the smaller man asked. “I’ll help you, but you’ll need to follow my lead at times.”
Peter smirked. “More topping from the bottom?”
“For awhile. Although I get the feeling you’ll pick things up very quickly.” Quincy’s entire stance changed, becoming more pliant and far more deliciously submissive. “So, what exactly do you like, Sir?”
“Doctor, if you don’t mind.”
The admin rolled his eyes. “Why does that not surprise me? Doctor,” he added belatedly.
Peter allowed himself a thin smile. “You’ll pay for that, pet.” He settled into the dominance, feeling it close around him like a well-loved jacket unworn for far too long. “As for what I like, I enjoy controlling my partner’s pleasure and orgasm,” he continued. “Teasing them, making them beg, drawing everything out until all they can think of is me. I’ll use whatever appeals to me to achieve that — bondage and discipline, edging, orgasm denial, sensual torture.” One corner of his mouth quirked higher. “I have to admit, I’m not much of an out and out sadist. I hope you weren’t after that.”
“Nope. I’m a sucky masochist.”
“Mm.” He pressed against Quincy, feeling the other man’s growing erection against his thigh. “That being said, what about spankings?”
Quincy shivered. “Oh, well. Those are really, really necessary,” he breathed. “Like, on a daily basis. Because I don’t know if you noticed this at all, but I’m kinda mouthy.”
“Oh, I noticed. Take off your tie.”
Two minutes later, Quincy was over his lap, trousers pulled down around his knees. The admin’s hands were bound behind his back with Peter’s tie, and his own tie had been carefully knotted and shoved in his mouth as a gag. Peter ran his fingertips over the cool, firm mounds of Quincy’s ass, enjoying the feel of muscle with just the right amount of padding. It would jiggle deliciously during a spanking.
He leaned to the left, eying Quincy’s reddening face. The pressure of the man’s erect cock against his right thigh indicated just how much the admin was enjoying this. “Safeword?” he inquired.
Quincy gave three short grunts. “Good. I think I’m going to start you off easy,” Peter said. “Let’s say ten swats because it’s a nice round number?”
He stiffened his hand and struck, jolting Quincy forward and eliciting a surprised grunt. Lifting his palm, he saw a perfect pink outline of outstretched fingers on the other man’s skin. “That’s one.”
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Mid Week Tease: The Art of Grant Management #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from “The Art of Grant Management,” which was just purchased this week by Evernight for their Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition antho, woohoo!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
Peter sent the email, then started pacing his office, hoping that the (admittedly subtle) message would be received correctly.
His hopes were fulfilled as a sharp staccato knock sounded on the door. It opened and Quincy peered around it. “You bellowed?”
For a millisecond, Peter hesitated. The admin looked tired, which was hardly surprising after the day they’d all had. Then again, fortune favors the brave. The worst he’ll say is no. “Come in, please.”
The admin did, closing the door behind him. Peter very deliberately leaned past him and turned the lock.
Quincy glanced over his shoulder at the locked door. “Let me guess — you’ve snapped from the pressure and you’re going to strangle me with the tubing from a Bunsen burner,” he quipped, going for a joking tone and not quite making it. “I should warn you, three different people saw me walk in here. You’ll never get away with it.”
Peter wanted to smile at the other man’s obvious nervousness. I’m right, I know I’m right. “I just wanted to talk to you in private, that’s all.”
“Oh. Talk.” Watching Quincy’s face go from casual to worried, then back to a mock casual that didn’t hide the worry very well, would have been hilarious in any other situation. The admin shoved his hands in his pants pockets, squinting up at Peter. “Uh, yeah, okay. So, uh, what do you want to talk about?”
“This.” Moving deliberately, he closed the distance between them and pulled Quincy’s hands out of his pockets. In one smooth move he raised them over the other man’s head, pinning the admin against the door. “You, John Quincy, are a brat,” he said, allowing a strict sort of fondness into his tone. “You have been a brat since you started here, and I’ve decided to do something about that.”
Quincy tensed, and for one horrible moment Peter thought he’d misjudged the situation. His brain was already frantically putting together a stammered apology when the admin’s eyes went dark and he relaxed into Peter’s grip. “Finally,” he murmured. “Jesus, doc, I was wondering if I’d have to trip and fall ass-up across your lap.”
Peter smothered a relieved sigh. “Yes, well, you can hardly blame me for my confusion. You don’t act very submissive.”
“Have you ever heard of topping from the bottom?”
“Mm.” He leaned in, pushing a knee between Quincy’s thighs. “I have a confession to make.”
#
What’s Peter’s confession? I’m afraid you’ll have to read Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition to find out! Muwahahahaha!
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Marvelous Monday Reads: Surrender Sweet Succubus
Hello, and welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads! Today I’m featuring the paranormal erotic romance Surrender Sweet Succubus by Jewel Quinlan, which stars a fertility specialist with some very interesting cross-specialization. Read on!
When Dr. Stephen Wallace, a fertility specialist from Sydney Australia, is approached by his brother and sister-in-law for help conceiving a child there is no way he can refuse. Since they have already exhausted all the possibilities modern medicine can provide, Stephen turns to his skills as a shaman for alternative solutions. His search leads him to Las Vegas, Nevada on a slim lead to capture a succubus who he hopes has the power to help. But when he meets Geneva, the exotic and passionate succubus, he finds himself being captured instead.
Story Excerpt
“I came here because I was looking for a succubus…” he began.
“Mm hm. Well, you found one.”
He lost his train of thought as she rolled a tube of lipstick over her lips. The same lips that had been wrapped around his cock last night doing the most wicked things to him.
She finished and started to walk back into the bathroom but her feet stopped short just before the door as if she had hit an invisible barrier. The look on her face was almost comical.
“What the…?” She backed up a step and then tried to move forward again but was halted once more in the same place. She reached in front of her and grabbed the doorway then tried to pull herself through but from the waist down, nothing else moved.
“What the hell is going on?!” She sounded scared now.
He stood. It was working, the binding spell was working! “Okay, I don’t want you to get upset but I put a binding spell on you.” He couldn’t help feeling bad about it. It wasn’t really in his nature to cast such spells but it had been necessary.
“You did what?” Her tone turned to acid and her eyes narrowed.“A binding spell,” he repeated, “So you can’t go more than three yards away from me. Sorry, were you trying to go to the bathroom?”
He moved closer to give her more slack so she could go in. She stumbled slightly as the perimeter of the bind shifted. She straightened, looking even more upset, and moved away from the bathroom towards the front door.
“How dare you!” she raged. “I am not to be held in bondage by any man. Release me at once!” Her hands scrabbled at the door behind her for the knob.
“I’ll remove it, I swear! It’s just, I need your help with something and I didn’t want you to disappear. I wasn’t sure how you would react when I told you I knew what you were.”
“You think I’m going to help you now!?” She looked like she would hit him if she could. Her eyes blazed emerald fire.
“I think, when you listen to what I have to say, you will.”
“And what if I don’t want to listen? You’re going to force me?”
He started to negate it but then stopped. She was right. The look in his sister-in-law’s eyes had haunted him since they’d spoken. He couldn’t let her down. Couldn’t let them both go on with the heartache of being childless. He shook his head, not knowing what to say.
“That’s it, I knew it! You men are all the same. You just take what you want and bend other people to your will.”
He held his hands out to her in pause. “Now look, I don’t even know if you can help me. I just wanted the opportunity to discuss it with you. That’s all. But before we do there’s something else I have to tell you about.” Better to come clean right away. He slowly inched forward towards her.
She yanked the door open. “I don’t care! Whatever it is, I’m not doing it you jerk!” she said, turning to go.
He quickly called out, “I just wanted to be honest and tell you…”
She took one step and then crumpled into a heap on the carpet.
“…about the sedative.”
Where to Buy
About Jewel Quinlan
From a young age, Jewel Quinlan had an abundant imagination and strong desire to write novels. She particularly enjoys writing paranormal and fantasy romance. An avid traveler, she has visited fifteen countries so far (which she enjoys using as settings in her novels) and has plans to see more of the world. She has a particular fondness for Bavaria and studies the German language as one of her hobbies. During the day, she works as a pharmaceutical sales representative and, at night, she writes romance. She currently lives in Orange County, California with her two dogs; Shimmer and Penny.
Where to find Jewel Quinlan
Mid Week Tease: The Art of Grant Management #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from “The Art of Grant Management,” which was just purchased this week by Evernight for their Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition antho, woohoo!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
Peter sent the email, then started pacing his office, hoping that the (admittedly subtle) message would be received correctly.
His hopes were fulfilled as a sharp staccato knock sounded on the door. It opened and Quincy peered around it. “You bellowed?”
For a millisecond, Peter hesitated. The admin looked tired, which was hardly surprising after the day they’d all had. Then again, fortune favors the brave. The worst he’ll say is no. “Come in, please.”
The admin did, closing the door behind him. Peter very deliberately leaned past him and turned the lock.
Quincy glanced over his shoulder at the locked door. “Let me guess — you’ve snapped from the pressure and you’re going to strangle me with the tubing from a Bunsen burner,” he quipped, going for a joking tone and not quite making it. “I should warn you, three different people saw me walk in here. You’ll never get away with it.”
Peter wanted to smile at the other man’s obvious nervousness. I’m right, I know I’m right. “I just wanted to talk to you in private, that’s all.”
“Oh. Talk.” Watching Quincy’s face go from casual to worried, then back to a mock casual that didn’t hide the worry very well, would have been hilarious in any other situation. The admin shoved his hands in his pants pockets, squinting up at Peter. “Uh, yeah, okay. So, uh, what do you want to talk about?”
“This.” Moving deliberately, he closed the distance between them and pulled Quincy’s hands out of his pockets. In one smooth move he raised them over the other man’s head, pinning the admin against the door. “You, John Quincy, are a brat,” he said, allowing a strict sort of fondness into his tone. “You have been a brat since you started here, and I’ve decided to do something about that.”
Quincy tensed, and for one horrible moment Peter thought he’d misjudged the situation. His brain was already frantically putting together a stammered apology when the admin’s eyes went dark and he relaxed into Peter’s grip. “Finally,” he murmured. “Jesus, doc, I was wondering if I’d have to trip and fall ass-up across your lap.”
Peter smothered a relieved sigh. “Yes, well, you can hardly blame me for my confusion. You don’t act very submissive.”
“Have you ever heard of topping from the bottom?”
“Mm.” He leaned in, pushing a knee between Quincy’s thighs. “I have a confession to make.”
#
What’s Peter’s confession? I’m afraid you’ll have to read Executive Assistant: Manlove Edition to find out! Muwahahahaha!
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Mid Week Tease: The Art of Grant Management #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from my current WIP, a M/M contemporary story set in a medical research center called “The Art of Grant Management.” I always knew that those years of managing research grants would finally come in handy!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
“I know Dr. Cheung may give you an extraordinary amount of leeway, but I expect you to do your job,” Dr. Peter Loeffler said, glaring down his nose at the man sitting behind the desk. “I have extra funds remaining in my NHS grant, and I wish to use them to purchase additional tissue lines.”
The administrative assistant for the Robert Kenilworth Research Center smirked back up at him. “And I’ve told you at least three times that those funds are earmarked for personnel, not supplies,” John Quincy said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “Which apparently you can’t parse. If you tell me what language they speak on your planet, I’ll try to translate it into something you’ll understand.”
“Oh, ha, ha, very humorous.”
Quincy’s smirk quirked, one side rising. “Then let me repeat it — again — in English. I am legally unable to transfer funds from one grant area to another. So the answer to your question is no. While we’re on the subject, you’re going to lose that money from next year’s grant if you don’t hire a research student toot sweet.”
Peter clenched his jaw. “I don’t need another researcher. I need fresh tissue lines.”
“Not my problem,” Quincy said dismissively. “This is what happens when you don’t budget your grants correctly. Consider it an object lesson.”
Peter ground his teeth together. “I need those funds reallocated so that I can use them as I see best,” he grated. “And since it is my burden in life to have you as an administrative assistant, I insist you do your job and administrate this transfer.”
Quincy’s answering smile was feral. “You want me to administrate something? How about I administrate my foot up your–”
“Gentlemen.”
Dr. Mai Cheung’s voice sounded mild, but there was steel under the center director’s tone. “May I remind you that voices carry? Mr. Quincy, get back to work.” Peter felt a hand on his arm. “Could I see you in my office, Dr. Loeffler?”
Grimacing, Peter let her pull him away from Quincy’s desk. The man had already turned back to his computer, whistling insouciantly.
Insouciantly. Damn him.
#
“Is there a reason why I came back from lunch and found you yelling at my administrative assistant?” Mai said. “Again?”
“I wasn’t yelling,” Peter said with a sniff. “As for your administrative assistant, he’s a boorish, obnoxious little man who has no respect whatsoever for his superiors, and he takes a particularly childish delight in being obstructive. I simply do not understand why you insist on keeping him employed.”
“Because he’s a god of grant management,” Mai said. “Not only does he keep track of every research grant opportunity out there, he’s also a walking calculator who can balance multiple million-dollar budgets in his head.” She shrugged. “Plus he’s also the only person who’s been able to put up with all the personalities up here.”
He folded his arms across his chest and glared. “I assume you’re referring to me?”
“I’m referring to every researcher up here, including me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s be honest. We’re a bunch of prima donna scientists who are far too undersocialized for our own good, and we’ve scared the shit out of every admin who walked in here.”
She pointed at her office door and the room beyond. “Except Quincy. He dishes it out as well as he takes it, and he keeps us funded. So I would consider it a personal favor if you’d ease off on the insults and let the man do his job before he gets fed up and goes to work for Grant Management.”
“I was trying to get him to do his job!”
“No, you were trying to get him to bend the rules for you,” she fired back. “You know full well you can’t use personnel funds for supplies, so stop asking. If you need those cell lines so badly, you’ll have to find another way to pay for them.”
Peter felt his fury subside a bit. “I — damn it. There is no other way,” he admitted. “I’ve exhausted all of my resources. My new NHS grant won’t fund for two months, and I need those cell lines before we get our site visit from Clemmons.”
Mai frowned. The Clemmons Endowment Fund provided the huge program project grant that kept the Kenilworth Center itself up and running. “Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier, Peter?”
He scuffed a toe along the carpet. “Well, it’s a bit embarrassing to admit that I, er, underbudgeted.” Quincy’s sneer loomed in his mind’s eye. “I don’t know what to do, Mai. I need those cell lines if I want to complete my current research project before the site visit.”
“Huh.” She frowned thoughtfully. “You know, if you talk to Quincy, I bet he can find a grant somewhere that will pay for your lines.”
Peter stiffened. “I would rather orally service Sarah Palin than ask John Quincy for a favor,” he snapped. “And you know both my political leanings and my sexual orientation, so that should fully indicate the depths of my repugnance.”
Mai grimaced. “Thanks for the mental image. Now I need brain bleach.” She rubbed the bracketed skin between her eyes. “I really wish you’d just ask him out already.”
“Ask who?”
“Quincy.”
Peter’s mouth dropped open. “I beg your pardon?
“Oh, please. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you look at him when you think nobody’s watching. And he looks at you the same way. Your little mating dance has been amusing enough, but it’s time to step up your game and do something about it.”
He’d gotten his jaw under control. “Quincy and I are not doing a mating dance,” he said. “Despite what you most mistakenly believe, I think he’s an obnoxious little troglodyte, and he obviously has no fond feelings for me. We’re not compatible in any way, shape, or form.”
One sleek eyebrow arched at him. “How would you know, seeing as the only thing you ever do is bicker with him?”
“I do not bicker,” Peter said sharply, then paused. “All right, perhaps I do. A bit. But he starts it!”
“Mating dance.” Mai sighed. “Look, there’s no rule against you dating a staff member, so why don’t you try being the bigger man for once and just ask him out?”
“It would be difficult to be the littler man to that homunculus,” Peter muttered.
Her eyes narrowed. “Let me remind you that you’re speaking about the man who can pull your metaphorical fat out of the fire, doctor. If you won’t cowboy up and ask him out, that’s your decision, but I do expect you to go ask him for some grant help, especially if it has a bearing on the site visit.”
He resisted the image to squirm under her gaze. “I’ll think about it. May I go now?”
The director waved him off. With as much dignity as he could muster, Peter stalked out of the office, into the anteroom that doubled as Quincy’s domain.
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Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from Behind the Iron Cross, my historical MMF romance set in 1923 Berlin.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
In the aftermath of World War I, Berlin has become a hotspot of decadent pleasures, and American millionairess Kat Tracy is determined to enjoy each and every one of them with Sam Hellman, her late brother’s lover and her convenient “fiancĂ©.” But when the two of them meet Friedrich von Bader, a former German Army officer turned reluctant prostitute, their wicked games take on a new meaning.
Friedrich followed the Americans backstage, still boggled by the evening and the spectacle he’d just witnessed. Heaven and Hell was just as glamorous and expensive as he’d heard, and their notorious stage show was just as debauched. How those girls could keep their balance so perfectly and dance while trussed up like that was a mystery.
And of course the Fräulein loved the show; he noticed the high color in her cheeks, and the way she kept licking her lips as she stared at the dancers. He was sure it wasn’t the beautiful naked girls so much as how they were bound that captivated his employer’s attention.
Sam guided them to a narrow hallway, where he indicated that they should wait. He knocked on a door, then disappeared into the room for a minute. When he stuck his head back into the hallway, he was grinning. “He said yes, Kat.”
“Oh, wonderful,” she purred. “Come on, colonel. We have someone to meet.”
Wary, Friedrich followed her into what turned out to be a small, pin-neat dressing room. The Japanese man from the show stood in the middle of the room, arms at his sides. He gave them a short, precise bow. “Konnichiwa,” he said.
“Konnichiwa,” Sam echoed, also repeating the bow. “Kat, von Bader, allow me to present Hajime Ito. Hajime-san, this is my fiancĂ©e, Katherine Tracy, and our friend Friedrich von Bader.”
Friedrich found himself giving the man a military bow. The man grunted acknowledgment, then gave the Fräulein a slightly deeper bow, which she returned in kind.
“We’re honored that you would speak with us, Hajime-sama,” she said, surprising Friedrich with the respect in her tone. “My fiancĂ© spoke of your work in the highest of terms. Your artistry with the rope is amazing — I’ve never seen such beautiful patterns.”
“Thank you,” Hajime said in accented but understandable German. “Most people look at the girls, not at my work.”
The Fräulein shook her head. “I respect your work, Hajime-sama. I wish I could become your student and learn from you.”
A small smile split his craggy features. “I have never taught a woman the art of kinbaku. I only use them as models. It would be interesting to teach a woman, I think.”
“I would hope so,” she said lightly. “Speaking of men and women, I was wondering — have you ever bound a man?”
Friedrich tensed at her words, as Hajime shrugged. “Of course. The art began as a way of controlling prisoners during wartime. There are different patterns you can use with a man, different suspensions.” He eyed the ceiling. “A pity we do not have rafters in here. I could show you, if I had a model.”
She clapped her hands at that. “But you do have a model,” she enthused. “The colonel here would be happy to volunteer.” She turned to Friedrich expectantly.
He was surprised to feel hot and cold at the same time. Cold at the thought of being forced into yet another humiliation, but oddly hot at the thought of obeying her politely worded command. “I — Fräulein, please,” he muttered.
That sable gaze caught him. “I believe I gave you an order, colonel.”
Stiffly, he nodded once and stepped forward, holding his arms up. The rope master’s dark brows beetled at him in puzzlement.
“He can’t bind you over your clothes, colonel,” the Fräulein said, amused. “Strip.”
Gritting his teeth, Friedrich obeyed. Anyone with military experience quickly got used to being naked in front of other men, so getting out of his uniform wasn’t bad. Even Sam’s appreciative leer was more flattering than annoying.
The ropes, however — as the rope master began looping the jute rope over and around him, forming diamond patterns along the front of his body, Friedrich couldn’t ignore the gentle but insistent compression as he was tied up like a Christmas present. The strangest thing, however, was how the bonds made him feel. He’d expected a growing sense of panic, as if he was trapped in a jute cage, and didn’t know how the Fraulein would react to his need to escape.
But to his surprise, the ropes made him feel…secure. Even safe, in a bizarre sort of way. He found himself relaxing as the rope master finished binding his torso, slipping ropes between his legs and pulling up the slack along the crease between thigh and hip. The tightening sensation was acutely sensual, and he wondered if the ropes would be used on his cock and balls as well. He felt a combined mixture of disappointment and relief when Hajime-san glanced up at him and nodded briefly in satisfaction, tying off the ropes at one hip.
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Mid Week Tease: The Art of Grant Management #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from my current WIP, a M/M contemporary story set in a medical research center that I will hopefully be submitting to Evernight’s Executive Assistant antho call sometime this week. I always knew that those years of managing research grants would finally come in handy!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
Peter pushed the Men’s Room door open, ready to argue. “I do not appreciate being ignored when you’re the one–” he started.
Then stopped. Quincy stood topless at one of the sinks, angrily scrubbing at a large red stain on his shirt. Half-naked, the short man was disconcertingly muscular, with broad shoulders and lean, well-defined arms.
But it was his torso that was truly a thing of beauty. Peter’s mouth abruptly went dry as he studied the delineation of muscle, ligament, and bone that made up John Quincy’s midsection. Oh, damn me. That’s just not fair.
The administrative assistant looked up and spotted him. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” he grumbled. “Ursula ran right into me and splashed this shit all over my shirt. And it reeks.”
“Oh.” Peter took a tentative sniff, and winced. “Fixative, I believe. You won’t be able to get it out of a white shirt.”
Quincy scowled, holding up the soaking shirt. A pale pink stain was still very obvious across the chest. “Goddamn it. I liked this shirt, too.”
He started wringing out the fabric, muttering under his breath. The motion did wonderful things to his obliques, and Peter had a sudden vision of stepping closer and pressing his lips to one pale shoulder, tasting smooth skin and salt. Trailing down across the firm curve of a pectoral muscle, listening to Quincy’s soft, questioning moan as he mouthed a nipple, then moving to the low valley between pectorals, a fine line of dark hair prickling against his lips as he kissed his way down–
He realized Quincy had stopped wringing and was staring at him. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“Uh, no. But you’re, um … you’re looking at me.” Quincy glanced down at his chest, then at his reflection in the mirrors over the sinks. “Did I miss some of that crap?
“No. It’s just … I wasn’t expecting you to be so…”
The other man raised an eyebrow, obviously expecting one of Peter’s usual insults. “Pale?” he snarked. “Freckled? You already knew I was a runt, so that can’t come as a surprise.”
“Muscular. You’re muscular,” Peter managed. Christ, you’re gorgeous. Bernini would have been reaching for a hammer and chisel by this point.
“Oh.” Quincy’s brows lowered in surprise, and for a moment Peter panicked that he’d said it out loud. “Uh. Yeah, well, when you’re 5’6” and mouthy, you learn to hit the gym if you don’t want to get the shit kicked out of you.”
“I see.” Peter let his gaze trail down, to the lovely V-shaped crease of the inguinal ligaments. It was one of his favorite spots on the male body, and Quincy’s ligaments were beautifully defined. Unable to resist, he studied how they disappeared under the man’s waistband, a natural pathway to the groin and– Oh.
To his shock, he saw Quincy was slightly tumescent, the outline of what looked like a very respectable cock just pressing against the twill fabric. With an effort, he dragged his attention away from the mouthwatering bulge, back to Quincy’s face. It was flushed, and the man’s dark green irises had shrunk to a thin line, almost disappearing next to the wide-open pupil. A faint blue line in his throat pulsed to an accelerated beat, and his chest rose and fell more rapidly now, pale nipples tightening and turning into tiny rivets.
Pupillary dilation. Flushed skin, increased respiration and heartbeat. Erectile response. The unconscious reflexes of physical attraction. Peter felt a rush of elation sizzle through him. He wants me. Oh, God. He actually wants me.
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