Category Archives: Sunday Shoutout
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to the marvelously prolific Doris O’Connor, whose smouldering new BDSM menage romance Her Best Friend’s Husband is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. And now, here’s Doris!
Thank you so much for having me on your blog today with my new release Her Best Friend’s Husband. Like so many of my stories the idea for this one was first sparked by a picture and the resulting tease on my blog.
The picture was a naked guy in bed, holding a wedding cake. How did I arrive from that to this story? Well, my muse works in mysterious ways, lol. The story slowly evolved and it was stuck in limbo for a long time, until I got the urge one day to pick up that manuscript, and the rest is history, as they say. J
I had such fun writing these three, and the intricacies of their relationship as they try to work out whether three is indeed better than two. So much so, in fact, that I’m planning a follow up to their story in due course.
For now, enjoy seeing Naomi struggle with her feelings for her best friend and his husband. To quote her. “Who does that?”
Naomi, for sure, and when she realizes the guys feel the same way…. Well… you might need a fan or a glass of water when you’re reading some scenes.
Wedding organizer Naomi Young is not only head-over-heels in love with her best friend, she lusts after his husband.
Which is all kinds of wrong—isn’t it? Maybe not. Especially when she discovers the attraction is not as one-sided as she thought.
Dom Dawson Monroe has never had a problem going after what he wants. Both he and his new husband Josh Garrison enjoy a woman’s soft touch, so who better to satisfy that need than the one woman Josh is madly in love with? Time to claim them both as his submissives.
Convention be damned. Happiness is to be found in the soft curves of Naomi’s body, as long as they can convince her that this is forever. Only time will tell if the loving twosome can become an even more loving threesome.
“Perhaps the boy’s timing was unfortunate, but he would only owe you an apology if you hadn’t enjoyed that kiss. And we all know you did. I’d wager you’re getting wet just remembering those kisses. I know I got hard witnessing it. You two look hot together.”
Naomi gasped and opened her mouth as though to protest, but one knowing smirk from Dawson meant she simply shook her head.
“Nothing to say to that, little one?”
That question, delivered in that deep, dark, gravelly voice—his Dom voice, as Josh called it—appeared to have the same effect on Naomi, as it always did on him. Her breathing sped up, and she tensed. While he couldn’t see them from his position in his back seat, Josh bet his next orgasm that her nipples were hard little beacons signaling her arousal as clearly as the moan she swallowed. It made him wish this infernal journey was over already. He couldn’t wait to see his life-long friend squirm in pleasure under his and Dawson’s hands.
His Master’s gaze dropped down to Naomi’s cleavage and Dawson’s grin turned positively sinful.
“Never mind words, your body gives you away. If I touched you now, I’d find you sopping wet for us, wouldn’t I? In fact…”
Dawson reached across and placed his large hand on Naomi’s knee. She jumped but didn’t stop him as he proceeded to pull up the hem of her dress, exposing acres of dark skin. The contrast of Dawson’s much lighter hand on Naomi’s thighs was startling. Josh groaned, and Naomi crunched the gear again as the traffic started moving.
“Please, I … don’t.” She flung an imploring look at Master and gasped when his hand briefly disappeared between her ample thighs. Josh balled his hands into fists to stop himself from grasping his dick, because seeing Master’s hand reappear seconds later, his digits glistening with the unmistakable evidence of Naomi’s arousal … fuck, that was hot.
Dawson grinned, licked one digit, and then held his hand out for Josh.
“Here, have a taste.”
His amber eyes darkened when Josh grasped Master’s hand. Naomi’s sweet, addictive taste exploded on his taste buds, made ten times more potent because it was mixed in with the familiar scent of the man he loved to distraction. Josh’s balls drew up in response, and he grunted as his dick jerked inside his pants.
“No coming without my say-so, boy. Besides, you make a mess in our girl’s car you’ll be cleaning it up.”
“Oh my God, you two are too much. I’m sitting right here, you know. Are either one of you going to actually ask me what I think?”
Naomi’s voice had risen to a shrill screech in her agitation. It served as an ice-cold dampener to Josh’s arousal, and he hastily released Dawson’s hand.
“Of course, we do.” He threw an imploring glance at his husband, and Dawson gave a sharp nod. Relief flooded through Josh, at that non-verbal confirmation that his Master was more than willing to step in.
“None of this will work without your consent, and communication is vital. I just don’t appreciate you lying to yourself, or us, girl,” Dawson said.
Naomi tensed further, and Josh could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. Any minute now she would explode in anger.
“Look, Naomi, what Dawson is trying to say—”
“Spare me, Josh.” Naomi glared at him through the rearview mirror, and in a move that wouldn’t have been amiss in a Bond movie, she pulled into the fast lane and put her foot down, as the traffic cleared. Dawson’s hand braced on the dashboard again, and when he looked all set to say something, Josh put his hand on his Master’s shoulder. Dawson glanced back at him, and his brows drew together in a frown at Josh’s shake of the head. He heeded his request, however, and didn’t say anything, as Naomi broke every speed limit in the land in her haste to seemingly get away from them all.
An awkward silence fell between them all, only broken by Naomi’s soft curses when she had to slow down for the inevitable traffic, interspersed by Dawson’s sighs.
Oh, Master was pissed and getting more annoyed by the minute. One of Dawson’s unbreakable rules was the need for his submissives to stay safe. Unwittingly Naomi was breaking that rule, and Josh knew he had to say something to calm this situation down.
“Slow down, sweet cheeks. Getting us killed will not get us there any faster. I’m sorry okay.”
Naomi gasped and glanced at him through the mirror. The sheen of tears in her eyes was like a punch to the gut, and he put his hand on her shoulder. He took the fact that she didn’t immediately shrug him off as a good sign. “I’m sorry I sprung this on you, but I’m not sorry I kissed you. I’m not sorry this is out in the open. We should have probably had this conversation before I got married, but there never seemed a right time, and I’m a fucking coward, okay? I was too afraid to lose our friendship, but we could be so good together. All of us.”
Where To Buy
About the Author
Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Stalk her in these places.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Lea Bronsen and her brilliant dark Viking romance Torn Avenger, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Lea!
Hi, and thank you for hosting me on your blog!
When asked what inspires me to write books, I usually say it’s something I’ve seen or heard, or I’ve been challenged to dig deeply into my imagination and come up with a crazy idea. This time, it was a premade cover. The moment I saw this dark, sensual, slightly homo erotic image of a half-naked man in a fur coat on an exquisitely colored background, I knew it had to be mine. I decided in which historical period to set the story – the obscure, mythical age of the Vikings – and the ensuing process plunged me into an exciting and not so foreign world where everyday heroes lived the same dramas and battled for the same values and desires as we do in modern society. I hope you enjoy the read!
As the second son of a Viking earl, Alv Gunnulfsen wasn’t meant to inherit a throne or avenge a murder. But when his brother is slain during a raid and their father dies of grief, Alv is expected to take command and claim the killer’s death. In a world of ruthless retaliation and strict social codes, he must also maneuver cleverly to protect a troublesome secret: his attraction for men.
Roeland van Dijk, a wealthy Dutch merchant settled in Norway, has done the unthinkable to protect his family — hacked off the head of a Viking rapist. The wrath of the blond savages will cost him his freedom, and possibly his own head… Unless he’s willing to accept the love of another man.
After a moment, Alv looked up again and almost gasped from the erotic vision in front of him. While shaving Roeland, he’d only seen his wet, hairy chest and stomach, but the handsome man moved to a kneeling position in the basin and washed his lower body. His stunning maleness made Alv hot and bothered. They had discussed, argued, shared personal details, and apologized to each other, but now, the seriousness of their conversation faded. The sight of Roeland’s cock bathing in white foam between his legs had Alv’s own cock jolt and press painfully against his pants.
Oh, Roeland attracted him on several levels—mental, emotional, and physical—and Alv longed to discover and develop more of everything with him. Hedin was an exciting lover, but nothing like what Roeland had the potential to be.
Speaking of Hedin, it’d been a surprise to see him again this morning, right after Elke left. He’d arrived in a terrible mood and refused to excuse his disappearance act. It was outrageous of a slave to come and go like that, but Alv had too much on his mind to think of punishing him.
For one, he worried about Roeland’s future. He’d inherited part of Father’s wealth, but not his title. After returning to Eðni, he’d claimed to be the only one who could decide of what to do with his brother’s murderer, but it wasn’t true. He had no standing, no support from his fellow citizens. They could choose to kill Roeland if they wanted to—all it took was a word from Mother. It made her idea to have Alv marry Elke and adopt the community’s natural heir that much more important to push through.
“There’s something we need to talk about,” he said, hoping Roeland wouldn’t oppose to the plan.
“Normally, I would ask you, but since you’re not in a position to make decisions, I’m just going to tell you.”
“About what?” Roeland frowned.
“I’m marrying your sister.”
Roeland stood so fast in the basin, water splashed to all sides. He stepped out and leaned into Alv’s face. “Don’t you dare to touch her!”
“But I’m not…”
“Hasn’t she suffered enough?” Roeland bellowed, his dark eyes slit with anger.
By Thor, he was insanely sexy, standing naked and wet, so near Alv could feel his damp bodily heat, water drippling from his hair and rolling alongside his tanned, chiseled cheeks. Alv couldn’t help hardening more, and needed to focus on the words that came out of Roeland’s luscious mouth to be able to answer. “She has already accepted.”
Where To Buy
Add it to your shelf on Goodreads
About the Author
Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Jessie Pinkham and her hot new Romance on the Go™ M/M fantasy story The Dragon Keeper, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine romance. Take it away, Jessie!
When Aldric first meets Lito, he considers the man a nuisance. As a dragon keeper for the kingdom of Corancia, he has more important tasks than answering an artist’s numerous questions about dragons.
Lito travelled to Corancia so he could observe dragons firsthand for his paintings and he’s full of questions about the magnificent creatures. His questions aren’t merely for his art, however; they arise from his deep love of dragons. When he overhears a plot by his own kingdom to eliminate the animals, he has to choose between his loyalty and his beloved dragons.
Working to prevent the extermination of dragons throws Aldric and Lito together and lust is in the air. If they’re lucky, they might end up with more than healthy dragons. It’s just possible that happily ever exists after all.
Once the artist set down his pen, Aldric ventured to ask, “Does it take many years of training to be an artist?”
“To be a good one, yes. Particularly when it comes to the details of preparing materials and paints. However, at the risk of being outrageously bold, after the way you were looking at me I’ll be more than a touch disappointed if you are thinking only of my craft.”
It was very bold indeed, but Aldric found he liked that. “Not only, no.” He glanced down at Lito’s hands. “Your hands are nimble, and you have such control.”
Lito smiled. “Perhaps you’re wondering what else I can do with them?”
Aldric felt himself blush. “You are outrageously bold.”
“And you need not hold yourself back so much. Certainly not after I established that you aren’t the only one interested. Is everyone in the north so restrained?”
“No. I spend more time with dragons than with people.”
“We ought to do something about that,” said Lito. He reached out, placing one hand on the side of Aldric’s face. “I see no reason you can’t enjoy human company when your workday is completed.”
Aldric did not enjoy the company of just any human. Lito’s was among those he did enjoy. “I don’t know the custom for seducing a houseguest,” he confessed. “Am I supposed to offer you supper first, or take you to bed straightaway?”
Lito laughed. “I believe I’m the one seducing you. In either case, bed, please.”
Aldric took Lito to his bedroom, glad that his bedding was recently returned from the laundress. It would not do to appear slovenly.
Not that Lito paid heed to the room, as his attention was reserved for Aldric. Specifically, removing Aldric’s clothing. He made short work of it all, followed quickly by his own. Naked, they admired each other.
Aldric was not one to admire for very long when he could be touching. He ran his hand down Lito’s neck and traced the muscles on the artist’s chest, enjoying not just the feel of muscle but the way Lito reacted with quickened breath and shivering skin.
He sat on his bed and pulled Lito down so the other man was straddling his lap. This was an excellent position, which allowed for roaming hands and the thrill of their cocks bumping together. Lito also took this as time for kissing. Aldric was not always fond of the activity, but he found with Lito he quite liked it. All the more so when Lito arranged himself so their chests were together and his hands traced a roving pattern on Aldric’s back at the same time his tongue explored Aldric’s mouth.
It had been some time since Aldric last enjoyed the company of another man, and he forcibly quelled his impatience. He found it was always better to take one’s time in matters of sexual pleasure, so he focused on individual sensations: the feel of Lito’s weight on his lap, the sound of their kisses and Lito’s barely audible whimpers, the heady scent of aroused men, and the shocks of pleasure when their cocks touched.
Lito dragged his fingernails along Aldric’s spine and pulled his mouth away. “You see, it pays handsomely to be outrageously bold.”
Such was not Aldric’s style, but he appreciated it in Lito. “Indeed, it does.” Then he put his mouth to work pressing kisses along his lover’s neck, which earned him a series of delightful moans. He enjoyed a vocal lover. Each noise served as a reward for his efforts and told him what his partner especially liked.
He leaned to lie flat on his back, taking Lito down with him. The weight of another man’s body atop his own excited him, as did Lito’s next enthusiastic round of kissing and rubbing.
When the artist next stopped kissing he said, “I do believe I spoke of what else I can do with my hands. I ought to demonstrate.”
“By all means.”
His fingers were as nimble as earlier, only now the quick motions danced around Aldric’s sac. “You are very talented,” said Aldric.
“I always endeavor for the best possible results.”
How fortunate for Aldric. He gasped as Lito took his cock in one hand while the other continued its tantalizing massage of his balls.
“It’s a benefit to bedding an artist.” Lito smiled, clearly pleased with Aldric’s reaction to his ministrations. “Well-trained hands combined with ceaseless striving for perfection.”
If one considered an orgasm perfection, Aldric was fast approaching it until Lito suddenly stopped and said, “I want to undo you, Aldric.”
He was about to remark that letting go of his cock was not a good way to achieve that goal, when Lito did something remarkable. He lowered himself down Aldric’s body and took Aldric’s cock in his mouth.
The sensation was so overwhelmingly wonderful that it took Aldric a moment to ask, “What are you doing?”
Lito paused, which was a great loss and made Aldric regret his question. “You don’t mean to tell me you’ve never done this?”
“I’ve never heard of taking a cock in my mouth.”
The artist’s eyes widened in surprise. “How dreadful. I must show you what you’ve been missing.”
Aldric decided he’d been missing a great deal.
Where To Buy
About the Author
Jessie Pinkham writes m/m romance.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Jennifer Denys, whose sizzling new paranormal wolf shifter romance To Claim a Mate is now available from Luminosity Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. And now, here’s Jennifer!
Cole Linley is a gay wolf-shifter. In order to appease the Alpha within, he has taken up the BDSM lifestyle and become very experienced. This placates his wolf to a certain extent, but his dearest wish is to find a mate—male, of course. Except, the question is, how to find one in a city surrounded by humans where other wolf-shifters are rare.
Then, one night, he enters Balls & Chains, a BDSM club he frequents, and immediately senses another of his kind. And not only that, it is the scent of a potential mate, Jared Gray. There is only one problem—Jared is collared by another Master.
Jared’s relationship shows all the signs of an abusive relationship. Can Cole get him away from the other Dom and show Jared the delights of BDSM when done properly and what it means to be a beta wolf to Cole’s Alpha?
Reader Advisory: The submissive in this Gay Paranormal Romance doesn’t realize he is in an abusive relationship until he meets his true Master.
Moving on, Cole was drawn into a room which had a cross in each corner of the room with plenty of space to wield the equipment. The walls were covered with floggers of varying types, although nothing stopped a Dominant using an implement from another section.
Cole halted. He’s here.
The scent was at its strongest, practically dragging him toward a slender man in his late twenties, with brown hair the color of hazelnuts. The sub was in the process of being tied face up against a cross on the far side. His chest was bare and sleek, and he wore skin-tight jeans.
The Dom wanted to rip the man’s clothes off and devour him on the spot. So intent was he on reaching his prey, he nearly missed the Master who had finished tying the submissive and came around to inspect the restraints, standing directly between Cole and the object of his hunt.
Stopping in his tracks, Cole’s hackles began to rise. A possessive instinct rose in him to fight off his rival. Except there were rules in BDSM and it didn’t include tearing out the throat of another Master.
Andy caught up with him and saw him staring. “Who have you found? Oh, this is Master Dirk. Jared is the sub he is playing with.”
Cole took a moment to calm his inner wolf, unclenching his fists before he triggered his claws. His voice was raspy as he asked, “Are they new? I don’t recall seeing either of them here before.” Actually, he couldn’t care less about this new Master. He only had eyes for Jared.
He didn’t hear Andy’s answer, because, at that moment, he caught the gaze of the bound man. Tangible electricity crossed the room and hit Cole like a silver bullet, slamming into his heart, nearly causing him to change into his wolf in front of everyone. It took everything he knew about Dominance to keep hold of his human side and push down his animal half.
Meanwhile, the submissive’s eyes opened wide in shock, and he bit his lip. Cole’s keen wolf eyesight could detect Jared’s fierce trembling, as he tightly gripped the ropes that held him. Cole willed him to hold on and not transform in front of everyone as the two shared a look of instant attraction, desperate need, and the desire to have sex.
And yet it was more than that. So much more—an inner knowledge, assurance one has finally found one’s other half, and didn’t even know one was looking.
Taking a deep breath, Cole narrowed his eyes as he gazed on Jared, drinking in the beautiful sight before him.
He gave a slight smile of acknowledgment.
Oh yes, this is my mate. And woe betide anyone who comes between us.
Where To Buy
About the Author
Jennifer is a bestselling author in various genre (BDSM, contemporary, sci-fi, paranormal, with historical and fantasy in her works in progress) with several different publishers.
An Englishwoman through and through, she lives in a beautiful historical city and is game to try most things once. She’s had a tattoo done on her calf, flew down zip wires 100 feet up in the trees, and was photographed nude by a professional photographer. All of which have taken place since she turned 50!
Many of her experiences end up in her books… but you will have to read them to find out what!
Do contact Jennifer – she loves to hear from her fans. She posts to her blog three times a week and is on Facebook daily.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to L.J. Longo, whose sizzling new paranormal romance Hiring the Tiger is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. And now, here’s L.J.!
Thanks for having me on your site! I’m excited to share Hiring the Tiger because it’s both my first F/M story and also my first series. While Hiring the Tiger is a stand-alone, there will be three other books in the series about the rest of the pack.
A tiger shouldn’t be picking tea-leaves and carrying luggage, but that’s the only job Navarro sees in his future. He’s learned to be humble since he and his friends, a wolf pack, exchanged their former careers as highway robbers for prison.
Then Lady Jasprite Doughton, a merchant with all the grace of the far East and the wealth of the West, whirls through the village on the back of a dragon and reminds Navarro what it means to want something. With her dominating sexual tastes and her powerful personality, Jasprite challenges his body, his lust, his loyalty to his friends, and his own worth.
After all, is gold enough to buy a tiger?
Nav worried she wouldn’t like the look of the bands, too dirty, too bold. Then he scoffed because he didn’t give a damn if she liked the look of them. Then he worried she’d decide he was a frivolous expense.
Fuck the bet, he’d take for her free. Now, he wanted her.
Now she was here.
He smelled her in the hallway, potent and sexual. She walked with quick long strides and opened the door before he could decide if he ought to be found in the balcony or on the bed.
Jasprite locked the door after she entered, then dropped the key into her front vest pocket. She grinned at him, the kind of leer men give the village girls washing their clothing at the river. It made him feel curiously misplaced.
“So, the captain was wrong. The chest was delivered safe and whole. You didn’t even open it.”
“I didn’t have the key.” He’d resisted the desire to pick it. “Ramsay also said you ought to hire a soldier to do this work.”
“A miscreant will do the job more thoroughly.” She pulled off her suit jacket and hung it on a wall hook, never taking her eyes from him. “Though, I’ll be honest, I don’t like animals. Especially, large ones. They don’t take direction well. Your witch said you’re a tiger.”
Nav grinned. “She’s not wrong.”
The lady’s eyebrow raised with annoyance. He wasn’t playing properly. He tried to be timid again. “Did you want proof, Lady Doughton?”
“Never had a tiger for hire.” She grinned at her name then pulled the string of jewels out of her bun, plucked something from the string, and tossed something over to him. He caught a key. “Open the chest.”
He knelt and opened the red chest with a gamely smile.
The smile left quickly. “Holy Hades…”
Under the layers of cotton were shackles, collars, whips. Long thick phallic statues of carved and polished wood, glass, and shining metal molded for a very specific purpose. Gags, hoods, dozens of other toys he’d never seen even in the most wicked books.
She chuckled, not a pleasant sound. “I knew you wouldn’t be ready.”
“Uh…” He looked from the box to her. He wanted her strong thighs, those tempting breasts, her cruel smile. But the box … men were supposed to use toys like that, not women.
“You like my collection?”
“I don’t know, actually.”
She hummed, unimpressed with his answer. She sauntered over and peered with him into her box of deviance. Her thighs were level with his face, and he inhaled the rich fresh wetness between her legs. He wanted her so much.
Nav swallowed, uncomfortable on his knees. He should have been the one staring down at her. She should have been the one to feel small and desired. Instead, she’d made him nothing more than his throbbing cock and his wordless mouth.
“Yes, this is exactly my problem with large animals. Especially ones that belong to other women.” She gripped his chin.
“I don’t belong to Yenna.”
She grinned. “I know who you belong to.”
Nav shivered a little at the ownership in her confidence.
Jasprite let him go. “I do like a pretty face though. So, I’ll make an exception for you, tiger.”
She could still tell him no? He wasn’t sure he had the option himself.
The woman unbuttoned her vest. “Pick out what you’ll let me use on you and I’ll tell you what you’re worth.”
Where To Buy
About the Author
L.J. Longo is a queer author, a geek, a feminist, sometime pirate, and is ARe best-selling author of Erotic Romance. L.J.’s work with Evernight includes The Dishonest Lover, Dark Captive: Manlove Edition, and Owned by the Alpha: Manlove Edition.
Find more thoughtful, hot erotica at Graceful Indecency where L.J. offers free erotica and contests to win romance e-books. L.J. also sometimes takes a break from writing and messes around on Twitter and Facebook.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to my delightful sister in crime L.D. Blakeley, who just released her revised and expanded contemporary M/M romance Best Worst Ever with a fantastic new cover. Take it away, L.D.!
Thanks for having me on today to tell you about Best Worst Ever. This story was my very first to be published so it will always hold a special place in my heart. I recently had my rights reverted, and knew I didn’t want this novella to simply fade away. So I decided to give my boys a bit of a spruce-up. I redid the cover art, revised and edited the story and made it available once more. I hope you enjoy. 🙂
Carey English spends his days planning extravagant parties and lavish weddings and generally making people’s lives brighter. He spends his nights wishing for a man he doesn’t have to share and who won’t try to drag him back into the closet. It doesn’t help that the man he wants most doesn’t need a closet to begin with — his straight best friend, Sky.
Skyler Wood has been dumped — again — just days before the holiday season, leaving him with an ex-fiancée, a nonrefundable New Year’s Eve getaway rental, and nothing to ring in the New Year but a broken heart. For Carey, rushing off to offer Sky a shoulder will either be the best decision he’s ever made—or it will lead to the worst heartbreak he’s ever experienced.
✽ This is an edited & revised version of a previously published story. It has been expanded by approximately 1,400 words. ✽
If there was one thing he knew about Sky, it was that he was as frugal as the day was long. And, judging by the other places he’d passed along the way, he was guessing the impressive exterior of this place matched a rather swanky, if not romantic, interior. Of course, idiot. Sky had rented the place thinking he’d be with his fiancée. Not his best friend.
He parked next to his friend’s SUV and stubbornly grabbed more than he could carry at once. Why make two trips when you can do it in one? Necessity might be the mother of invention, but laziness was definitely its big, bad daddy. Laden down with a suitcase and far too many bags of food and liquor, Carey used the toe of his boot to gently knock at the front door. “Sky? You in there? My hands are full, man, come open the door.” When there was no response, he tried again with the tip of his boot. “Mr. Darcy, are—”
His sentence was cut short as the door flew open. “Jesus! Hold your horses, Logan. I couldn’t hear you with the water running. I was just in the…”
Shower. He’d been in the shower. Carey knew this, not because he suddenly had the ability to read minds. Oh, no. He knew this because there, in front of him, stood all six foot four inches of Darcy Skyler Wood… dripping wet with nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. Shit.
Don’t stare. Don’t stare at that solitary drop of water as it slowly slides its way between the hard, flat planes of those perfect pecs. And for the love of all that’s holy, do not stare at anything even remotely near the edge of that towel! But Carey never was any good at taking orders.
“… hot enough to melt the snow…fun, witty banter…” – Joyfully Jay
“…sexy and lovely.” – Hearts On Fire Reviews
“a great friend to lovers story… a very sweet ending.” – MM Good Book Reviews
“…humorous, and snarky banter…” – My Fiction Nook
“… warm and sensual chemistry together that is just yummy.” – Prism Book Alliance
“…excellent fantasy fodder… sassy!” – Rainbow Book Reviews
Where To Buy
About the Author
A pragmatist with a romantic soul & a dirty mind, L.D. is a fan of horror movies, hot sex, and Happily Ever Afters. Easily distracted by shiny things, she’s a slightly neurotic, highly ambitious dreamer who enjoys dabbling in photography & pretending she can carry a tune.
In another life, L.D. was a newspaper reporter, an entertainment & music writer, travel writer, website content editor, and a marketing shill. Now she prefers to spend her time writing hot, steamy fiction (with a healthy dose of romance) about intriguing, sexy men. Of course, whether these pretty boys end up between the sheets with other gorgeous lads or up against a wall with a spicy and spirited heroine, all depends on which direction her imagination takes her on any given day.
Although she dreams of living some place isolated with an endless supply of wine and an infinite number of titles on her eReader, she currently lives in down-town Toronto with her husband and their rock star cat.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to the lovely and talented Matt Burlingame, whose wonderful new M/M romance Catch a Falling Star is now available from Amazon and other purveyors of romance. And now, here’s Matt!
A therapist once told Martin Stevens that being gay was the only thing that saved him from being the most boring man alive. He spends his daytime working a dead-end job and his nights still pining after the ex-fiance who left him five years ago. When his older brother Daniel takes him to see a touring musical, a mishap sends superstar performer Alec Jameson flying off the stage right into Martin’s lap. It’s love at first sight.
But can that love withstand the scrutiny of the press, a shock-jock radio personality bent on causing trouble, and the return of Martin’s overbearing ex-fiance?
Everything about Martin Stevens was average. He lived in an average town in an average house and worked an average job. He was an average height, average weight and wore average clothes. The only thing about him that wasn’t average was that he was gay, which his former psychiatrist once told him saved him from being the most boring man on the planet.
On the day Martin turned 33 years old, his coworkers—none of whom really knew him—gave him a card with his name misspelled. His mother left her annual voice message complaining about his “lifestyle choice” before handing the phone to his dad who told him what a disappointment he had turned out to be.
The only glimmer of hope to bring a smile to Martin’s usually complacent face was his older brother Daniel who was taking him out that night.
When his brother arrived, he gave Martin a card with a nude man on the front making a joke about blowing out his birthday candle, and a bottle of aged whiskey. Since they were taking a cab to get around, Daniel demanded they have a few shots before heading out—a destination he was still keeping a secret.
The two brothers had always been close. Daniel was the first person Martin had come out to, and had always supported and protected him—even from their own father who had once threatened to “beat the gay outta him if need be.”
“So you get anything fun for your birthday?”
Martin shrugged and held up Daniel’s card and the one from his work.
Martin pointed to himself and gave a fake smile, then dropped the card into the trash bin.
“That’s it? What about your friends?”
“I don’t have any friends.”
Daniel swallowed his second shot and shook his head. “There’s gotta be someone you hang out with.”
Martin scoffed. “Just Jack and Karen.”
Daniel chuckled. “Ah, little bro … what happened to you? You used to have a lot of friends. What about that girl you were friends with in school? Tracy?”
“Stacey. Haven’t seen her in years.”
“And all the people who came to those parties you and Derrick had when you were together?”
“But you always had people from school coming over.”
Martin took a shot, held it while giving his brother a sideways look, then swallowed hard. “That was the yearbook committee and they only came over because they had crushes on you. Once you graduated, I was kicked off. You were voted most popular. I was the one voted most likely to die alone and be eaten by his cats.”
Daniel couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “You were not!”
“I was! That’s why I have fish. Face it, my life has not exactly been a success story.”
“But you have a steady job, a nice house… fish. You should find a good guy and—”
Martin interrupted, “Adopt some kids, get a divorce, go to a support group.” He rolled his eyes.
“Okay, okay.” Daniel poured them a third shot. “One more before we go.” He raised his shot glass. “Here’s to my little bro on his birthday. May he meet the man of his dreams and have a long and happy life together.”
“Cold day in hell, Dan,” Martin said as their glasses clinked together.
Daniel’s phone beeped. “Ride’s here.”
“You never said where we were going.”
“Didn’t I? Huh.” Daniel headed toward the door.
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About the Author
Matt Burlingame is an award-winning journalist and playwright, living in Northern California. After 20 years of working for for various LGBT newspapers, websites, and even cohosting a late-night radio show, he has retired from his aspirations of being the gay Murphy Brown to pursue his love of fiction writing. His first book, the self-published dark comedy Sorry Charley, was released in 2012.
He has written and cowritten over ten critically acclaimed plays including Recovery Mode, Poughkeepsie Porn Co., Countess Dracula, and the controversial Paperclip Messiah. His plays have been produced nationally, most notably in New York, and St. Louis.
He has been a well known LGBT podcaster for over 10 years and produced and cohosted shows focusing on comedy writing, world events, comedy, theater, gay sex education and positive body image. With the support and encouragement of his gay cat, and lifelong friend Nephi, he has now immersed himself into the wonderful world of M/M romance.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to the darling (and muy prolific) Doris O’Connor, whose sizzling new shifter romance Claiming His Human (The Projects 6) is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. And now, here’s Doris!
Thank you so much for hosting my new release on your blog today. Claiming his Human is book 6 in The Projects series, and readers will meet many a familiar face from the previous books.
Don’t worry, though, you do not have to read the previous books in the series, unless you’d like to, of course.
Darius knows Holly is his from the first whiff of her scent in the air. Holly needs some convincing… especially when she finds out that the man she’s been lusting after turns into a huge grizzly bear.
Bear shifter Darius Longton never expected to find his mate in his favorite coffee shop, but one sniff of her scent in the air is all it takes for his bear to know the truth. This delicious, sinfully curvy redhead is his.
Too bad she’s human and far too fragile for his volatile bear.
Holly Trent cannot understand the instant attraction she feels for this man. One look from his heavy-lidded eyes is all it takes to set her knickers aflame with lust. However, she will not be another notch on his bedpost, no matter how much his voice alone makes her want to sink to her knees.
But when a customer gets heavy with her, everything changes. Darius’s defense of her places them both in terrible danger. Thrown headfirst into shifter council politics, it falls to Holly to save her mate.
Darius’s eyes flashed from golden to brown and back again, and she lost herself in the intensity of his gaze.
“Holly, what are you doing?” he asked. The gravelly timbre of his voice shot straight to every one of her erogenous zones, not least because his scent increased and wrapped her into a cocoon of his earthy, spicy presence.
“I don’t know. I just want … please … I need.”
A hiss escaped him when she lowered herself back down on his lap and ground her by now sodden crotch over his cock.
Another one of those earth-shattering deep rumbles came from the man she was dry humping like some sort of wanton hussy, and in the next instant, his large fingers dug into her hips with enough force to leave bruises. Shivers of apprehension, or excitement, she wasn’t sure which raced down her spine.
Darius lowered his head so that their foreheads touched. Their breaths mingled, and the world stood still, as she waited for him to move, to do something, anything.
She couldn’t get her voice to work past the huge lump of emotion which clogged up her throat, so she simply breached the distance between them and pressed her lips against his. His groan rumbled through her, and then he took charge of the kiss. Just like before, their surroundings faded into the background, as he deepened the kiss, and she gave herself up to the myriad of sensations that immediately assaulted her. With his hands firmly clamped around her hips, she couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but tug at the strands of his hair which had come loose from his ponytail. The action seemed to incite his bear, because he broke the kiss, and ran his nose along her neck, inhaling deeply.
“Fuck, Holly, you better be sure, because all I want to do is push those panties away and bury myself deep inside your sweet cunt until you have no doubt who you belong to.”
He yanked her up slightly while he traced one hand along her hip until he could cup her pussy.
“So fucking wet for me, little one.”
Incapable of uttering anything but incoherent moans, Holly rubbed herself against that hand.
“Oh, yeah, I can smell your need. Tell me this pussy is mine. Ask me for my cock. I need to hear you say the words, my sweet.”
His voice, full of heated promise, didn’t sound like him at all, more animal than human, and she responded to the almost desperate tones in kind.
“Just fuck me already, will you?”
A sharp tug on her hair brought tears to her eyes, and she whined her disappointment when he pulled back to study her. Try as she might she couldn’t close the distance between them.
“Ask me nicely, girl, or I’ll stop this instant.”
Holly’s flippant reply stuck in her throat when she properly looked at him because the determination edged in his hungry features told their own story. He meant what he’d said, and despite the massive erection tenting his suit trousers, which must cost him dearly, he would get up and leave her wanting. His thighs flexed under hers, and Holly swallowed hard when he released his grip on her hair and grasped her wrists instead. She was no match for his superior strength, even if she had tried to resist him, as he slowly pulled her hands away from him, and pinned them behind her back. The action thrust her breasts out at him, and her breathing sped up when his gaze slowly dipped lower until it rested on her straining cleavage. Her nipples pushed against the fabric of her lacy bra, hard little beacons of lust pointing straight at Darius, positively begging for his attention. Darius transferred both her wrists into one of his large hands and then slowly brought his free hand into view. His knuckles skimmed across the hypersensitive tips of her nipples, and Holly whimpered her need.
A wicked grin flashed across his features, and he repeated the action several times until Holly was pretty sure she would self-combust if he didn’t do something else. Incomprehensible sounds spilled from her lips, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sight of his large, tanned hand against her pale flesh.
“Hmm, so beautifully responsive, my sweet. I bet you could come from this alone.”
Holly gasped in fascination as one of his fingernails formed into a wicked-looking claw, and he used that lethally sharp appendage to run ever tightening circles around first one nipple and then the other until Holly thought she would scream. When he added another claw to lightly score her skin the pleasure pain acted like a livewire of electricity connected her clit to her boobs.
Her hips took on a life of their own, and her pussy muscles clenched and released desperate for his cock to fill her.
“Please, I need to … please, Sir, I want your cock.”
The words were out of her mouth before her brain had even cottoned on to what she was saying. Darius stilled, his eyes flashed fire at her, and for the first time since she’d initiated this, a trickle of fear snaked up her spine. Not enough for her to put a stop to this, whatever this insanity which seemed to hold her in its grip would amount to, but enough to make her already far too fast heartbeat turn into a sledgehammer inside her chest.
Her vision dimmed, and all reasoning fled her brain in a puff of smoke because Darius looked more animal than human. He looked as though he wanted to eat her alive, and before she could even fathom his intention, her hands were free. The audible rip of her knickers giving way, as he tore them off her sounded far too loud in the quiet room, and then his fingers slipped inside her pussy and she groaned in need. Her head fell forward on his shoulders, even as she instinctively spread her thighs wider apart to give his questing digits better access.
“You’re so fucking wet, my sweet. Come for me, baby.”
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About the Author
Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Happily married for the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Naomi Clark and her smouldering new shifter book In Cold Blood. Take it away, Naomi!
Hi there! Thanks for having me today and letting me share a bit about my new release, IN COLD BLOOD. This is a spin-off from my Urban Wolf series, set in the same world but featuring new characters. My goal with every entry in the Urban Wolf series is to open the world up a little bit more. SILVER KISS gives us a good, solid starting point with werewolves. BLOOD HUNT introduces vampires. PHANTOM FEARS teases the idea of ghosts, and COLD NIGHT MOON gives us fae creatures (or one, at any rate). With IN COLD BLOOD, my idea was that, well, someone had to be noticing all these weird and wonderful creepy beasties. And someone would be keeping notes…This will tie directly into the plot of the next Urban Wolf book, which will take us back to Ayla and Shannon. The circle of life, etc.
IN COLD BLOOD is the first of a planned trilogy about Phoebe, Aisling, and the Luporum. I already have book 2 mostly planned out (in my head, anyway), but my aim is write that Ayla and Shannon book first. So if you enjoy IN COLD BLOOD, rest assured that there’ll be more from my socially awkward werewolves in love – and the Urban Wolf series in general! – in the future 🙂 Happy reading!
You can find the complete Urban Wolf series, in reading order, at my blog here – http://naomiclarkwrites.blogspot.co.uk/p/urban-fantasy.html
Phoebe Fairley wanted to be a librarian. Somehow, she’s become a vampire hunter. Women are dying across the country and the police are baffled. Phoebe’s just supposed to be gathering information on the deaths, but as the body count mounts, she can’t help but break the rules and get involved. She knows what the killer is—and catching and containing it is vital. If she can persuade the police to believe her, and keep her secretive bosses happy, she stands a chance of capturing a very real, very deadly vampire. Not bad for a werewolf who can’t shapeshift.
Aisling is happy living as a feral wolf. She’s got no time for human affairs, until a mysterious creature attacks her and leaves her in human hands. Now, if she wants her life back, she’ll have to join Phoebe’s hunt. There are just a couple of snags. One, she hates humans. And two, she’s falling hard for Phoebe. With a monster to catch and her own past to protect, will Aisling trust her head or her heart?
The scene inside the barn was surreal. Two big floodlights overhead lit the barn in glaring white. Half the huge space was taken up with sheep, penned off from the drama but still hysterically bleating and milling together. A grizzled man in a tattered dressing gown and Wellington boots – surely the farmer – leaned into the pen, talking non-stop to the frightened animals. Bales of hay were piled high around the rest of the barn, looking to Phoebe like they might come toppling down any second. They formed a rough arena for the main drama. Two more men held down a naked woman. She thrashed in their grip, tossing her matted red hair and snarling with a viciousness that made Phoebe’s wolf cower. This was their victim, this mad, wild thing?
Spalding hurried over to the farmer and Gibbs ran to the paramedics. They had to be wolves, from the strength they were displaying, but the woman was making them work to keep her still. Phoebe hesitated before following Gibbs – at a distance. Observe, Spalding had said. That was fine. Observing was all she was meant to do. The question was, what exactly was she seeing? The victim of a vampire attack or a feral wolf gone mad? She couldn’t help but lean towards the latter. Perhaps the woman thought the sheep would be easy pickings, but something had gone wrong. Maybe she’d been startled by the farmer or a guard dog. Phoebe had noticed a kennel outside the barn, although there was no sign of a dog now.
As she got closer, she saw the woman’s hands and feet were caked in mud, and there were thin red scratches all over her pale skin. Dried blood on her chest, too, although her endless thrashing made it hard to see where the original wound was. She stopped a few feet away, watching as Gibbs crouched down before the woman and – daringly, Phoebe thought – gripped her chin firmly. She was surprised he didn’t get his fingers bitten off.
The woman growled but couldn’t pull free of Gibbs’ hold. He growled right back, with a force and venom that made Phoebe quake. Did they teach that in training?
For a minute, the pair seemed locked in battle, the woman struggling against all three men in vain while she snarled at Gibbs. He didn’t flinch or loosen his grip, and kept his own domineering growl rumbling on, rising in pitch. The sheep grew more frantic and both the farmer and Spalding yelled at them with a mixture of anger and desperation. Phoebe felt battered, all the noise and tumultuous emotion like an assault. She wanted to run. She forced herself to stay, watching as Gibbs tried to inflict his will on the woman.
As much as pop culture got muddled with myth, some things were always true, just as much for wolves as humans. Some people were simply more dominant than others. Gibbs’ laid-back, clownish persona was all gone now as he pinned the woman down with both his body and his eyes. Phoebe would have caved already, if she’d even had it in her to resist. The woman, whatever her mental state might be, was not so easily dominated. But after what felt like an age, she slumped, stopped fighting, and went still.
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About Naomi Clark
Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she’s not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she’s hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn’t available, she’s with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Kacey Hammell and her smouldering new book Guarding His Anchor (Canadian Muscle 2), is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Kacey!
Thank you so much for sharing my latest release, Guarding His Anchor, with your readers! Frank and Charlie haven’t had an easy road, but their journey is romantic and adventurous.
Charlotte Weber is no stranger to heartbreak. FBI agent Frank Shaw has swept in and out of her life as though she’s a revolving door, stomping on her heart in the process. Now that she’s finally had enough, he’s back again and seems determined to spin her life out of control.
Frank knows Charlie is the anchor for his lost soul, even though he can’t risk settling down. The demons of his past are too great, and he won’t run the risk of hurting her. This time, his only objective should be locating Charlie’s brother, Sean. But Charlie’s a complication, and not just because she refuses to believe Sean is guilty.
As Frank and Charlie fight for what they believe in, they also try to resist their powerful connection. The future is unclear, but when danger surrounds them, they are each other’s only anchor.
Frank watched Charlie intently.
That name was for a young girl, not for a woman like her.
To him, she was all Charlotte. Confident, virile, elegant, intoxicating. A vixen who turned a man on with one sultry glance and then brought him to his knees with one heady taste of her. He hated calling her by such the tomboy-ish name everyone else called her.
Others didn’t see what he did. Which was a good thing, too; he didn’t want her sharing that part of herself with anyone else. Especially not with this Numbnuts Neal that Jonas had told him about last night. Another guy was sniffing around his lady, and he didn’t like it. Not one fucking little sliver.
“So.” Charlotte interrupted his thoughts. He’d deal with Numbnuts later. “Tell me”—she shoved the file aside—“in your own words, everything my brother has allegedly done. And sugarcoat nothing on my behalf. I’ll read the report later.”
There was the woman he cared for. The brook-no-argument heat in her eyes. Her deep, sea-blue gaze sliced deep and offered no mercy.
“Your brother actually went undercover five years ago. You knew he was changing jobs and would be out of the country for a long time. You told me that yourself, remember?” Charlotte nodded but said nothing. “Through my contacts and the agent in charge of the case, it’s been almost eighteen months since his handler’s spoken to him.”
Her eyes widened and she shifted, but remained silent.
“I tracked him down in the most desolate area of Tel Aviv and to a branch in a drug cartel he’d started investigating years ago. The minute details are in the file, but to make a long story short, I got too close. Breached a compound to look for evidence of your brother being there and anything else I could use in the case.” He ran a hand down his face, the skin itchy from not having shaved in days. “Only sparse personnel were to be on the grounds, less eyes watching, but the Intel I got had been wrong. Before I knew what was happening, I was getting shot at from every direction.”
“So Sean might not be the one who shot you.” Her eyes were eager, hopeful. Of course she’d latch on to the fact multiple bullets were aimed at him.
He shook his head, wishing he could answer her pleas. “I managed through the worst of it and found my way to an empty garage where I ran into your brother. And before you ask, yes, I am certain it was him. He appeared confused at first, then said, ‘Charlie’s Frank?’ So he knew who I was. Then voices and more gunfire rang out and coming toward us. Before I could react to anything, he suddenly raised his gun and shot me.” Frank rubbed his wound, still surprised he’d survived. The doctors had said a couple inches left or right, depending on travel of the bullet and bone fragment concerns, and surgery wouldn’t have been an option either.
“How’d you get out of there?” He hoped the concern in her eyes was true and for him, not just her brother.
“One of the other agents with me pulled up in a jeep. I ran out as fast as possible, and he hauled our asses out of there.”
Charlotte scoffed. “Okay Rambo-slash-John McClane, you still watch too many action films. Unless I hear it from Sean, I won’t believe he’d shoot you for no reason.”
She’d always been pigheaded, but Frank couldn’t believe she’d question it. “What reason would I have to lie to you? Hell, Charlo—ie, I latched on to the case to prove his innocence.”
“Why? Why did you want to get involved? You left Vikki and high-tailed it on the first plane out with barely any notice. You didn’t tell me much before you left. And you were on your way to partnering up with Gavin and Marc with the security stuff. But you dropped everything and left. Why was Sean’s case that important to you?”
“For you!” he bellowed, confused why she didn’t see that. “He is your brother, Gavin’s best friend, and I’d have access to the whole case to help him.”
“Don’t pretend that you were doing me any favors. I never asked you to get involved, Frank.”
“Well, of course not,” he growled low. “You’d never have found out any of it if I had my way. I was hoping to get Sean out of trouble and bring him home to you. But you overheard Gavin and I talking before I left. And as far as leaving Vikki, she and I discussed it. She needed space and was only too eager to see me go. She didn’t need my hovering at that point and wanted to stand on her own, or try to. Gavin watched over her for me.” He smiled. “You all did, and I appreciate it very much.”
“We’ve become great friends.” He loved the way Charlotte’s eyes softened as she talked about his cousin. “It is an honest friendship. And it has nothing to do with you.”
Months had turned her hard, distant. He only had himself to blame. They hadn’t left things on a positive note, but he’d hoped she’d understand one day.
Hell, he’d foolishly hoped that she would come to appreciate having him on Sean’s case rather than a stranger. Their personal relationship aside, he assumed she’d trust the agent he was, and how long and hard he’d continued searching for Vikki. What other proof did she need to trust him?
How wrong he’d been.
“I don’t want to think about Sean doing this.” The worry on her face tore at his heart. “Was he undercover too long? Is that a reason people believe he’s capable of such violence?”
“There are many cops and agents that have gone so far undercover they get caught up in the lifestyle and it’s impossible to find their way back.” Sadness crept across her face. “Sorry, Charlie, that’s as honest as it gets.”
“None of this makes sense.” She stood and piled paperwork on the file cabinet. “It goes against who Sean is, and not who Norris raised. I can’t wrap my head around it. My brother isn’t a monster.”
Her voice broke, breaking his heart in the process. Frank stood and crossed the room, then rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, hon. I know you’re scared, and I’m sorry you have to go through this.”
Charlotte turned, surprising him, and burrowed her face in his chest. Sobs tore from her, shaking her strong yet delicate frame. He wrapped her in his arms, resting his cheek on her head, and let her cry.
It had been so long—too long—since he’d inhaled her sweet scent of fruity shampoo and the coconut butter body wash she used every day. He’d barely made it through any meal that served any of the combinations, the memories of her too fervent to let him eat in peace. Soft, warm, and the tranquility that came to him whenever he held her close were all potently his Charlotte.
Home. Being this close to her again was like coming home. But he wasn’t a man looking for one place to settle down. And it puzzled him why he returned time and time again.
You know exactly why. You have an addiction, buddy. And she’s in your arms right now.
Yes, he supposed his conscience was trying to tell him something, but it was wrong. He kept returning here because of his friends, the security business. But Charlotte pulled him back in like a reel catching a fish every single time.
“No. Fuck no.” Her high-pitched squeal surprised him. He fell back on his feet, shocked at her strength to shove him so hard.
“Shut up. No. Damn it.” She glared at him, fists tight. “Get out. Don’t coddle me. Don’t console me. You won’t use me. Get. Out.”
“Use you? Coddle you?” He huffed. “You turned to me,” he yelled, frustration gnawing at him.
“Guess I’m an idiot, but I won’t fall for it. I won’t let you close enough to betray my brother. If I even hear from him again.” Her chest heaved and sweat dotted her forehead and cheeks. Frank had never seen her so out of control, seething and yet so stunning. How ferocious she was in battle.
Frank’s head whipped around to the intruding voice in the doorway.
“Charlie, are you all right?”
“We’re having a private conversation. Get lost, buddy.”
“Shut up, Frank. Come on in, Neal. He and I are finished.”
So this was Numbnuts Neal. Dark hair, squinty eyes, tanned skin. Dressed to the nines in a suit and tie, with a cute little handkerchief in his breast pocket, and a pair of round glasses in his right hand. Jesus, what a nerd. Frank wanted to pick him up and chuck him back out into the hallway.
“I, um, just came to see if you wanted to catch up. Maybe dinner?” Numbnuts eyed Frank with caution. Good. Frank wanted the guy scared shitless of him.
But the little prick stepped forward and extended his hand to shake.
Frank eyed the small limb with the urge to break it but wanting to be an adult.
“Oh, for cripes sake,” Charlotte groused. “Neal Simmons, Frank Shaw. And vice versa. Whatever.” She pushed a pile of folders into a shoulder bag then her phone and grabbed another smaller bag she slid under her arm. “I’ll call you later, Neal. I need a time out.”
“Hey, wait a second,” Frank called out, following her into the hall.
“No, I’m done here. I can’t do this right now.” She turned and rushed away.
Frank watched, jaw clenched. Anger and frustration filled him as Charlotte and Numbnuts disappeared. He strode back into her office for his cell phone he’d set on her desk earlier. Frank eyed the landline phone sitting there.
After extracting a small case from the front pocket of his pants, he opened it and pulled out the tiny device and lifted the dial-phone. He placed the electronic bug underneath it and set it back down.
If Sean contacted his sister, this would be one number he might call. As much as Frank disliked going behind her back like this, he had a job to do. No matter how much he cared about her, he’d do whatever it took to bring bad guys in. He wasn’t bred any other way.
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About Kacey Hammell
Avid Reader. Romance Author. Redhead…
Canadian-born author Kacey Hammell is definitely a book-a-holic. A romance reader from a young age, she fell in love with happily ever afters. These days, as a multi- published erotic romance author, she enjoys adding a lot of heat, sass, and emotion to the many genres she writes.
Mom of three, Kacey lives her own happily ever after with her perfect hero in Ontario, Canada.