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Fabulous Friday Reads: Grayscale
Let’s kick off this lovely Easter weekend with the always awesome Rebecca Brochu and her sizzling new erotic romance Grayscale, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Rebecca!
As a Chroma agent, one of the elite operatives for the Spectrum Intelligence Agency, Jonah Gray was skilled enough to handle most anything that came his way. If not, Jonah knew he could always rely on his handler, the clever Mr. Fox, to pull him through. Drawn to the seductive voice and commanding strength of the man on the other end of the line, Jonah wavers between his attraction to his handler and the knowledge that handlers and operatives are never supposed to meet.
Then a mission goes horribly wrong and Jonah finds himself on the wrong end of a kill order. With Jonah on the run both handler and operative are desperate to finally meet so they can face this new threat head on. Together they struggle to discover who wants Jonah dead while they finally take the opportunity to embrace the passion that has always simmered between them.
Story Excerpt
“Are your eyes closed?” Silas asked him quieter than before, softer and gentler.
“Yes, Sir.” Jonah felt vulnerable in that moment, in a way he thought he’d left behind a long time ago. To distract himself a bit he let his hands come down to rest on his stomach, let his fingers slide gently over the skin there, but no lower. He didn’t have permission for that yet, after all.
“I’ve got you,” Silas promised almost as if he could tell what Jonah was feeling without even being able to see him. “You’re safe with me remember? You can relax and trust me Jonah. You can trust me to keep you safe, to tell you what to do. You can trust me with all of that. With all of you.”
“I know. I do.” Jonah fought back the swell of emotions in his chest as the mixture of devotion and affection that he always felt towards Silas threatened to burst free. Slowly, deliberately, he inhaled again. Exhaled. Inhaled, exhaled, repeated it until he felt himself even out, felt himself center.
“Good.” Silas said it roughly, voice ragged in a way that let Jonah know just how much his admittance meant to Silas. “I wish I could see you right now. You’re gorgeous Jonah, you know that don’t you? I bet you’re beautiful the way you are right now, laid back on that bed with your eyes closed, cock hard and body open. I bet you’re perfect. I’ve always thought you would be. Ever since the first time I saw you.”
Jonah’s eyes flew open in stunned surprise before he slammed them shut again. Silas’s voice was ragged but honest, deep and thick with that hot, honey drawl that Jonah loved so much.
“You’ve seen me?” The thought that Silas had seen him, knew what he looked like, and so obviously approved, made Jonah feel slightly giddy with a mixture of pride and relief.
“Oh yes.” Silas sounded amused for a moment then. “I’ve seen you many times Jonah. I am your handler after all. I’ve read your file, seen videos. Sometimes I watch you on the security cameras on missions. You’re a thing of beauty, Jonah. All lethal grace and power that draws the eye. Even when you’re off mission, even when you’re wandering around whatever city or town you decide to spend your time in, you’re still fascinating. Captivating.”
“And do I?” Jonah couldn’t help but ask. He needed to know, burned to know for certain whether or not the fascination he felt was mutual. “Do I captivate you?”
“Completely,” Silas admitted quietly and with that sort of brutal honesty in his voice that Jonah adored.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
BookStrand
About Rebecca Brochu
Rebecca is proud to say that she lives in a small town in North Carolina, surrounded by fields and fresh air. Naturally she spends most of her days crouched in front of a keyboard or curled up with a book.
As an avid video game and anime enthusiast, it is an understatement to say that she has a vivid imagination. With a collection of games, dvd’s, and books that number too many to count she is often neck deep in some fantasy world.
She is also the proud owner of two haughty cats and one encouraging dog.
Where to find Rebecca Brochu
Mid Week Tease: Fine Dining #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Okay, I don’t have any sex scenes from Deep Water to offer today (they are taking their bloody time about it) so instead let me offer you an amuse bouche from my short story “Fine Dining” which will be appearing in Evernight Publishing’s upcoming anthology Uniform Fetish: Manlove Edition.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
James turned onto his side and sank his free hand into Gustav’s hair. “You’re wonderful,” he murmured.
Gustav captured his hand and pulled it down, kissing the palm. “Non. Tu es incroyable.” He drew James’s hand down to his groin, then, pressing it against the sizeable bulge behind black twill. “Please, mon cher. If you do not touch me, I will explode.”
Obediently, James pulled down the zipper, sliding his hand inside and wrapping it around a hot, heavy length. It flexed in his hand, eager for attention.
He hesitated. “Show me. Please.”
“Mais oui.” Gustav rolled onto his back and fumbled with his trouser button, finally freeing his cock. It was not overly long but nicely thick, with dark blue veins lacing the ruddy skin of the shaft. He wrapped his own fingers around James’s, pressing them into a tighter grip as they started stroking him together.
James wriggled closer, resting his head on Gustav’s shoulder as he watched their joined hands shuttle back and forth, the sensation of silk over steel searing into his palm. Gustav was uncut and his foreskin allowed enough movement to offset the lack of lubrication. Nonetheless, James gathered the drops of pre-cum bubbling up from the mushroom head on his thumb and used that to smooth the way.
In a few minutes the waiter was growling in gutter French. His hips abruptly jerked upwards, hard. Creamy spatters of semen erupted from his cock, landing on his shirt with a soft patter.
James eased him through the aftershocks, nuzzling his neck and ear. When Gustav’s hand loosened he let go, resting his fingers on the jut of the other man’s still-clothed hipbone. “I’m afraid I made a mess of your shirt,” he said softly.
“Il n’importe pas.” Gustav waved vaguely at the door. “I keep a spare here.”
And indeed, a clean white Oxford shirt hung on the back of the door, with what appeared to be a pair of black slacks underneath. James blinked, wondering why the restaurant manager would let Gustav keep a spare uniform in his office rather than in a locker.
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Mid Week Tease: Fine Dining #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. Here’s a tease from my short story “Fine Dining,” which will be appearing in Evernight Publishing’s upcoming uniform fetish anthology. James Fairchild has something of a crush on the elegant, handsome waiter Gustav, but is too shy to do anything about it. After an unfortunate mishap with some spilled soup, James learns to his delight that Gustav is more than happy to make the first move.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
A sharp rap sounded at the door. On instinct he dropped into the chair like a marionette with its strings cut, covering his briefs with the wadded trousers. “C-come in,” he called.
Gustav peered around the door, holding up a large soup bowl with a white cloth draped over it. “Ah, good,” he said, bustling over. “Once again, monsieur, I apologize for this. Luckily Marco is an expert at treating stains before they set, and of course I will pay for your dry cleaning.”
“Absolutely not,” James said quickly. “It wasn’t your fault. That boor bumped you on purpose.”
Gustav gave a most Gallic shrug. “Nonetheless, I insist,” he said, putting the bowl down on the desk before gently prying the trousers from James’s hands. He held them up, studying at the stain. “Quel salaud,” he muttered.
A Paris veteran, James was fluent in French and recognized the phrase. “Calling him a bastard is probably an insult to bastards.”
Gustav smirked. “Yes, I suppose. But it will be the last time that connard and his friends eat here. Un moment, s’il vous plaît.”
He opened the door, handing the trousers off to someone outside with murmured instructions, then came back in. “Now for you, monsieur.”
“I–” James choked slightly as Gustav knelt in front of him, taking the bowl of ice water from the desk and putting it on the floor. The choke turned into a gasp as the waiter matter-of-factly slid two somewhat chilly hands between his knees and gently nudged them apart.
“This will cool the temperature of the burn and help it heal more quickly. It would be better if we could soak it in milk for a half hour, but I’m afraid that’s impractical considering the location,” Gustav said, wringing out the soft white cloth before wrapping it around an ice cube. “Brace yourself, monsieur.”
James shuddered as the wet cloth touched his burn, moving gently over it. Gustav clucked in apology, but James knew his reaction was equally due to Gustav’s free hand coming to rest on his uninjured thigh. The man was kneeling practically between his knees, so close that he could feel Gustav’s breath on his bare skin. He clasped his hands over his groin as camouflage for what promised to be a most inconvenient erection. “I’m all right, really,” he said thickly. “You don’t have to do this.”
Gustav eased back a bit, one hand still resting on his uninjured thigh. “It would be irresponsible of me to let you go while you are still in discomfort,” he said, dropping the cloth back into the bowl. “I should fetch some aloe vera lotion from the kitchen–”
“No, please,” James begged. “It’s all right.”
Grey-blue eyes narrowed at him, then glanced down at his clasped hands. A welter of emotions played across the man’s face, then; surprise, disbelief, acknowledgement, and finally an incandescent joy that shook James to his marrow.
“Ah,” Gustav said softly. His fingers left James’s thighs, gliding up so softly, touching his wrists, then the back of his hands. “I had hoped, but I wasn’t sure. Please, let me?”
Dizzy, James nodded, unsure of what he was agreeing to. He quickly found out what it was when Gustav pulled his hands away, revealing the long, hard shape of his desire under clean cotton. Already there was a spot of dampness at the tip, a faint grey shadow that spread as they watched.
Gustav bent his head and pressed a kiss to James’s pubic bone just at the base of his shaft. Warm breath gusted through the fabric, and James made a soft noise as Gustav’s lips closed around him, laying open-mouthed kisses up to the rounded head. A flickering tongue licked at the wetness there, savoring it.
“Délicieux,” Gustav murmured, glancing up at him with eyes that had gone dark. The waiter’s polite mask was gone, revealing the man underneath. “Please, James. Let me taste you.”
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Mid Week Tease: Trickster or Treat #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Happy Hump Day! This week we Mid Week Teasers are celebrating Halloween with teasers from our paranormal works. And since Delaney and Mark have been on my mind recently, here’s a special Halloween scene from my Trickster series (yes, there will be a sequel).
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
With care, Delaney decanted the hot cider from the pot into two glass mugs, inhaling the crisp, fruity steam with relish. It was rare that Dallas got chilly enough for spiced cider before December, but a cold front had pushed through the area along with a handful of thunderstorms, bringing autumnal temperatures just in time for Halloween. His coyote wanted to be out in the fields that still dotted the outer edges of the Metroplex, hunting the last of the rabbits and enjoying the crackle of browning foliage under his paws before the earth put itself to bed for winter.
Barring that, a monster movie marathon with his mate was a more than acceptable alternative.
He grabbed the mugs and carried them carefully through to the living room. The lights had already been turned down and Mark was in his spot on the couch, idly spinning the remote in one long-fingered hand.
“That took long enough,” he commented, accepting one of the mugs. “Coffee would have been fine, really.”
“Hell, no. I’ve been waiting for this for months.” Delaney took a seat next to Mark, deftly keeping the cider from slopping over while he slid an arm around his mate. “Try it.”
Mark rolled his eyes but obeyed. And blinked in surprised appreciation. “Wow.” He smacked his lips. “That’s got quite a kick.”
“Now you know where all the rum’s gone.” Delaney took a careful sip from his mug, savoring the hot fluid rolling over his tongue. “God, I love this kind of weather. So what are we watching?”
Mark squinted at the stack of DVD cases on the TV stand. “Our marathon kicks off with your favorite and mine, Re-animator.”
“Stuart Gordon, black humor, and gore — oh, my,” Delaney said, taking another sip of cider. “What else?”
“After that we have An American Werewolf in London, and then I thought we’d wrap it up with Dracula.”
“Lugosi, Langella, or Oldman?”
“Oldman — I’m in the mood for something OTT.”
“Works for me,” Delaney said, pulling Mark closer as the smaller man hit PLAY. Only part of his attention was on the screen as a maniacal Herbert West briefly brought his mentor back to a gruesomely eye-popping life. The rest of it was on the irresistible smell rising from Mark’s skin, a combination of salt, clean musk, the faint tang of alcohol, and a hint of spice and fruit. He leaned over and nosed a curl away from the lobe of Mark’s ear, inhaling.
“I thought we were going to watch horror movies,” Mark said, sounding amused.
“Mm, maybe I just wanted to get you on the couch and ply you with alcoholic cider,” Delaney admitted, brushing his lips against the sensitive patch of skin under Mark’s ear. Goosebumps rose on his mate’s skin, and he licked them gently. “You don’t mind, do you?”
He pulled back to judge his mate’s expression. Storm-blue eyes met his own, turning dark with the need that always crackled between them when they were alone. “Not really,” Mark said, grinning. “Should I stop the DVD?”
“I don’t think Mr. West will mind,” Delaney said, plucking the mug from Mark’s hand and putting it on the end table with his own before pressing closer to his mate’s welcoming heat. “Now, then, where was I…”
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Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: L.D. Blakeley
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to the charming and hilarious L.D. Blakeley, whose new Romance on the Go™ story Judging a Book By Its Cover is now out from Evernight Publishing. If you’re in the mood for a sweetly sexy story about a bashful hottie and the smoldering editor-in-chief who discovers something delicious under that shy exterior, this is for you!

Agonizingly shy Emory North has his life mapped out for him: finish his business degree, go to work for his father, and one day take over as CEO of North Star Publishing. More at home amongst stacks of books, Emory has little to no interest in his lot as ‘North Jr.’, but has never had the courage to follow his true passion—writing.
Brash and ballsy Bryce Palmer, editor-in-chief of ECLIPSE magazine is known for bedding and discarding PAs like yesterday’s newspaper. He’s up against a serious deadline and down two staff members. And the last thing he has time for is babysitting the spoiled rich son of a CEO. But when Pierce Barclay North insists now is the time for his heir apparent to get his feet wet in the company waters, Palmer’s hands are tied.
But looks can be deceiving. And, sometimes, passion can spark in the most unlikely of places…
Story Excerpt
By 6:30 Monday morning, Emory sat at his desk nursing a steaming hot cup of strong, black coffee. It was far earlier than he should rightfully be at the office. But his internal monologue was making him crazy and he’d hoped work might, at least, distract him from the situation. Torn between anger — at Bryce for his wrongful intrusion — and mortification — also directed at Bryce (but more at himself) for that stolen kiss — Emory was fit to be tied. Did he confront Bryce about the email and risk his ire? Or should he avoid both subjects entirely? Emory knew his father would give him some variation of the I Assumed As Much speech, if Bryce were to fire him. Would he, though? Would Bryce fire him for last night’s indiscretion? He’d seemed well enough into it at first. So maybe Emory could call him out on the manuscript without risk of being upbraided like a child for the kiss — or worse, fired.
Before he had time to become completely unhinged with his thoughts, they were interrupted with the arrival of their main source of strife.
“Morning,” was all Bryce muttered as he breezed past Emory’s desk and into his office.
Seriously? That’s it? Emory was at a complete loss. Now what? Act like nothing out of the ordinary happened Friday and he hadn’t spent the entire weekend fretting? March into Bryce’s office and demand an explanation for the email? Before he was able to decide one way or the other, his phone lit up — Bryce’s extension.
“Emory speaking,” he finally managed after picking up the phone and hesitantly clearing his throat.
“I should hope so — I did dial your number.”
“Oh, um.”
Bryce sighed and Emory was positive there had been an accompanying eye roll. “Are we back to nervous monosyllables again?”
“No, I…” Emory heard Bryce chuckle before he could manage to spit out the rest of his sentence.
“Would you please come into my office, Emory?” This was it. He was about to be tossed out on his ass and onto a pile of jilted former PAs… and he hadn’t even managed more than a drunken kiss!
“You wanted to see me?” Emory stood in the doorway of Bryce’s office, not entirely sure what to do or say. A million things came to mind: curse the man out for taking his story; apologize for his behaviour after the gala; kiss him one more time just to see if it was as scorching hot as he remembered. He chose none of the above and timidly avoided eye contact.
“Would you please come in?” Bryce appeared to be finishing up an email, his fingers flying across his keyboard. “Shut the door behind you and have a seat.”
Emory did as he was told and sat facing Bryce. Before he could change his mind, he managed to muster up more temerity than he’d ever thought possible, and spat out “I’msorryaboutFridaynight,” as though it were all one single word.
“Sorry about… what, exactly?” Emory was surprised to see a smile on Bryce’s handsome face.
“The wine?” Emory started worrying at his thumbnail once again.
“I didn’t mind the wine, to be quite honest. Made you much more… conversational.” And didn’t that sound laced with… undertones. Emory could feel his face burning.
“But that wasn’t what I wanted to discuss.” And there it was. Emory braced himself.
Where To Buy
Amazon Canada
Amazon UK
Amazon US
ARe
BookStrand
Evernight Publishing
About L.D. Blakeley
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.
Where to find L.D. Blakeley
Fabulous Friday Reads: Invicta Sanctuary
Let’s kick off this lovely October weekend with Piper Kay and book two in her Invicta series, Invicta Sanctuary from Hot Ink Press.
What is your sanctuary? For Mickey, he never needed one, he was his own. Until now. In a situation spinning out of control, Mickey is forced to make a move and he’s not sure how to handle it. He’s an intelligent, self-reliant man who never depended on anyone for anything, but now he is alone for the first time in his life, scared. By accident, he ends up at Invicta, the hottest new male go-go dance club in town. Owners, Kade and Holt, know the behavior all too well, but Mickey’s trust factor is leveling out on zero, until he spots Toryn. Sometimes sanctuary can be found in the strangest of places.
Story Excerpt
That young, dark haired, and tatted up hottie grabs me right off the bat. He can’t be more than twenty-four tops. Just right. He’s been poured into those leathers, his ass packed in nice and tight. Firm. They might as well have wrapped the man in saran wrap, not that I’d complain either way. He’s finally announced, but it’s probably a stage name he uses. Who even cares? As long as he keeps shaking himself around, I’m all good. The man rocks to the beat of the music. He pops that majestic ass in perfect tune with the thumps blasting from the speakers. Done like a true power bottom and personally, I’m enjoying the hell out of it. His hips begin to roll in a perfect circle, as he pivots on one foot to his side. He coils himself all the way around twice before facing the front. I’m loving his body movements. Someone stick a fork in me, because I’m sizzling… I think I may have just fallen in love with the man on the stage and those ‘fuck me hard’ hip moves.
Where to Buy
About Piper Kay
Piper Kay is a homegrown country girl straight from the outskirts of Houston, Texas, USA. She is a #1 International Best Selling author of LGBT Erotica, and an International Bestselling author of LGBT Erotica romance, gay romance, specifically in the male/male (m/m) erotica genre, and LGBT drama. Piper is bringing her passion of storytelling straight to the pages, most times served with a super-sized sprinkle of sexy, a slice of sarcasm and a carafe of crazy.
Where to find Piper Kay
Website
Blog
Amazon Author Page
Facebook
Twitter
Goodreads
Authorgraph
Google
LinkedIn
YouTube
TWO TO TANGO on sale for 99¢ this week at Evernight
What? You mean you haven’t read my hilarious M/M SF caper novel Two to Tango yet? I’m…well, I’m crushed. But I’m also strong, so I will dab the tears from my damask cheeks and think about it all tomorrow at Tara.
Now that I’ve finished pretending to be Scarlett O’Hara, do I have a deal for you! For the next week Two to Tango is only 99 cents at Evernight Publishing. And if that isn’t enough to persuade you, here’s a little more about the story:
Rory MacLellan, AKA the Highlander, may be the most successful interstellar art thief in the Known Worlds, but he still has a conscience. So when he runs into a suicidal museum worker during his latest job, he has no choice but to stun the man and rescue him from certain death.
Dr. Dmitri Grigoryev was an up-and-coming exoarchaeologist until a disastrous dig left his career in tatters. Hungry, broke, and desperate, the last thing he expected was a dashing thief to come along and save his life.
Thrown together by accident and with interstellar police on their tail, Rory and Dmitri reluctantly join forces for a major heist. But will their simmering attraction get in the way, or prove that they were meant to be together?
Fabulous Friday Reads: Double Jackson
Let’s kick off this lovely September weekend with the amazing Raven McAllan and her saucy new erotic romance Double Jackson, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Here are a few words from Raven on the origins of the book:
When I sat down to write this blog, I realized how lucky I am, doing what I love, writing stories. The fact people seem to enjoy them is a bonus, and one I never stop giving thanks for. I couldn’t not write, I feel as if something is missing if I don’t connect with my characters every day, even just for a few minutes. As my long-suffering hubby says, have lap top will travel. (It’s amazing how much you can write on long haul)
Double Jackson, or Jackson for short is one of those stories that hit you, and demand to be told.
I’ve no idea where the idea came from, I just know I woke up one morning and started to write it. It was very definitely character driven, and one of the minor characters, Tina the housekeeper, nagged me all the time I wrote. It was as if she were in the room with me, looking over my shoulder…
Not only does she keep all the characters in the book in their place, she very definitely did it to me as well.
I think it worked.
Jackson Carrick at Tits and Bum Club—gay in more ways than one.
As morning wake up calls go, those damning headlines made for a rude awakening. The renowned actor is a one man guy, thank you very much, so why would a doppelganger set out to discredit him, and more importantly, who is it?
As the mystery unravels and loyalties are tested, Jackson has to rely on his husband, housekeeper, and friends to keep his reputation from swirling down the drain.
Fortunately, Jackson’s husband Collum knows just how to keep his man from worrying. Only one thing to do when you’re stuck inside waiting for news—lots of mind-blowing sex.
Story Excerpt
(Fizz is Tina’s twin, and Jack’s agent.)
Jack took hold of the phone as if it were a time bomb about to go off. Which, Coll decided it might well be. He stared at Jack, and willed his positive thoughts to be heard as Jack connected the call.
“Hi, Fizz. Hold on, I want to put this on speakerphone so I don’t have to repeat it to Coll.”
“Where are you? No don’t tell me if it’s too much information. Are you at home?” Her voice was loud and tinny in the room. “Do you have today’s paper handy? Is there a clock or three around? Are you decent?” The staccato questions came thick and fast. “Jack?”
Coll’s eyes widened and he shook his head at his lover’s silent question. He had no idea what the inquisition was all about.
“Kitchen? With iPad and phone?” Jack could be as brusque as the next person when it was warranted. “Naked.”
“That’ll do.” Fizz’s voice ebbed and flowed as the signal changed strength. “Well, not the naked bit. Clothed. Plus a paper or two and remember, decently dressed. Do it now and send it to me please. I’ll be with you as soon as I can. About ten minutes, I reckon.” The phone went dead.
Jack looked at Coll, who raised one eyebrow.
“Oh, shit.”
“Oh, fuck. Her ten is five. I don’t think she means in our birthday suits.” Jack pinched Coll’s left nipple and rolled of the bed to land on his feet.
“Bastard. I wish I was that agile.” Coll sat up, stretched and then stood up slowly.
“Ha. If you had to do the stuff I do in this series you’d be limber as well. Problem is at the end I’ll be arthritic and stiff as an excited cock everywhere, not just in my dick.” He jogged into the bathroom, and with a wry grin, Coll followed him.
Jack had the shower on full blast. As Coll watched he spun round under the water three times and got out.
“Over to you. I’ll go hunt up iPads and stuff.” Jack rubbed his hands over his hair and snagged a towel as he moved swiftly away.
“Cover up your jiggles then,” Coll called after him. “No cock rock on display.”
A whistle was his reply.
Coll wasn’t under the water much longer than it took to wash any traces of sex from his body, and soak his sweat-slicked hair. He flicked a towel across his body in the hope some water would be caught and absorbed and then pulled on a clean t-shirt before he ignored boxers, and thrust his damp legs into linen trousers and deck shoes. The material of the trousers chafed his skin and he wriggled uncomfortably. Maybe he should have donned underwear after all. The last thing he wanted was a rash on his cock from the nylon thread they used in his clothes.
It was too late. He heard the deep-throated rumble of a powerful motorbike and guessed Fizz had arrived.
Coll took the stairs two at a time. He arrived in the hall as the knocker crashed onto the wood with such force he wouldn’t have been surprised to see it emerge through the panel and an attached hand still thumping away.
He pulled the door open and Fizz almost fell into the foyer.
“Have you taken that picture yet?” she demanded in a breathless voice as she took off her helmet and put it on top of an old-fashioned hat stand.
“Good afternoon, Fizz. Not yet, sorry. How are you, Coll? I’m fine, thank you, Fizz, how are you?” Coll said sarcastically. “Would you like to take a breath before or after you hit me over the head for my tardiness?” The look he received would wither the hardest cock.
“Funny, ha, ha. I need that photo like an hour ago.”
“Difficult.” Jack had entered the hall unnoticed. “We didn’t know you wanted it, and it would have been a TMI photo.”
Fizz made a noise like a particularly upset wildcat. Jack sniggered. “Knickers in a twist, Fizz?”
“No, but your nuts will be in a nutcracker before you can say walnut or pecan if we don’t get stuff sorted out pretty damned quick. Let me take a damned photo.” She snapped the words irritably. “Where?”
“Kitchen. I was setting it up.”
“I don’t want a set up,” Fizz followed Jack into the kitchen, and Coll followed the two if them.
If he was a ladies’ man, then Fizz’s ass would be everything you could ask for. Not for the first time he wondered why she was single with no guy—or woman in sight.
Coll made a beeline for the coffee pot. “Coffee?”
“After.” Fizz didn’t look up from her phone. “Okay, it’s still okay. Get sorted. No, not like that. Who lines up three clocks and props a newspaper up for a selfie for no reason? I want natural.”
“If we’d known an hour ago you could have had au naturel.”
Where to Buy
Evernight
Amazon
Amazon UK
All Romance eBooks
Bookstrand
About Raven McAllan
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
Her very understanding, and long-suffering DH, is used to his questions unanswered, the dust bunnies greeting him as he walks through the door, and rescuing burned offerings from the Aga. (And passing her a glass of wine as she types furiously.)
Where to find Raven McAllan
Fabulous Friday Reads: A Ticket to Love
Let’s kick off this lovely weekend with Rebecca Brochu and her delicious new erotic romance A Ticket to Love, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance.
When Grayson Harkess arrests the wrong socialite’s son and is busted back down to traffic duty by his captain, he’s understandably upset and angry. With no other option but to wait his punishment out Grayson spends his shifts vindictively ticketing his fellow officers and biding his time until he can go back to what he should be doing: solving real crimes.
Miserable and frustrated Grayson doesn’t see an upside to his situation. Not until he tickets a sports car for double parking and bumps right into the man of his dreams. Luke Hill owns a local cafe, has horrible fashion sense and on top of being gorgeous is also, apparently, completely incapable of parking his car legally. Grayson doesn’t mind though, not when ticketing the man again and again turns into a standing lunch date and the chance to get to know Luke on a more … intimate level.
Story Excerpt
Luke writhed then, grabbed at Grayson’s hair and tugged hard. Grayson glanced up at him but didn’t stop. He stayed there on his knees and kept massaging the underside of Luke’s cock with his tongue. “Stop, Grayson. I don’t want to come yet,” Luke gasped out. “Not until you’re in me.”
Grayson groaned, squeezed his eyes shut, and pressed the heel of his free hand hard against the base of his own cock. Finally he pulled off of Luke and gained his feet as he licked a wet trail all the way up Luke’s body to his mouth.
Grayson kissed him then, long, slow, and deep. Luke match him move for move, and grinned up at him as Grayson pulled back with one last, long suck on Luke’s bottom lip.
“You have anything?” Grayson asked roughly. “Didn’t exactly come prepared.”
“Desk.” Luke panted and then twisted and stretched back across the surface of the desk to fumble one of the drawers open. He made a sound of triumph and twisted back around, a condom and a small tube in his hand and a grin on his face. “Got it.”
“Should I be worried or flattered that you’re so prepared?” Grayson asked as he leaned down and mouthed at Luke’s collarbone.
“Flattered.” Luke groaned out. “Definitely flattered since I bought it just for you.”
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About Rebecca Brochu
Rebecca is proud to say that she lives in a small town in North Carolina, surrounded by fields and fresh air. Naturally she spends most of her days crouched in front of a keyboard or curled up with a book.
As an avid video game and anime enthusiast, it is an understatement to say that she has a vivid imagination. With a collection of games, dvd’s, and books that number too many to count she is often neck deep in some fantasy world.
She is also the proud owner of two haughty cats and one encouraging dog.
Where to find Rebecca Brochu
Mid Week Tease: Planet Alpha Story #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! Here’s my second tease from my almost finished Planet Alpha story. After overhearing his hunky alien rescuers discuss his candidacy as bondmate (and follow it up with some rather hot sex), Deacon relieves a little of his own tension. Of course, if he can hear them, it only makes sense that they can hear him as well. Oops.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
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While on patrol, UN Security Forces Sergeant Deacon Shea is ambushed by scavengers and forced to hike back to civilization in the middle of a severe thunderstorm. When he runs across an Alphan ship grounded in a clearing, he thinks he’s saved. Little does he know that his life is about to become very, very complicated…
Deacon struggled to sit up. To his increasing humiliation, Taric leaned against the corridor hallway, thick arms crossed over his chest and grinning. “Don’t worry about hitting him,” the Alphan said. “He’s tougher than he looks.”
“Is that how you usually treat someone who gives you release?” Zhan said, sitting back on his heels and rubbing his cheek.
Deacon finally found his voice. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Pleasuring you, I thought,” Zhan said coldly, skin shading to red. “When you cried out our names, I assumed you enjoyed it. Apparently I was wrong.”
“Damn straight you were wrong.” He yanked a protective flap of blanket over his groin. “Anyone ever tell you to ask first before licking a guy’s cock?”
Zhan looked puzzled. “No.”
“Seriously?”
“I’m a Xyran. We take what we want.”
Deacon scowled. “Well, not me. I don’t care if you think I’m your bondmate or whatever — you ask first, understand?”
Taric came over, frowning. “How did you know we were considering you as a bondmate?”
Ah, shit. “I heard you talking about it,” he admitted. “In the cockpit.”
Taric’s eyes went wide. “You speak Alphan?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not totally fluent, but I can usually understand what people are saying.”
To his surprise, Taric sat down on a corner of the pad, studying him. “If you can speak our language, why are you patrolling areas such as this?” the Alphan asked. “You should be posted to one of our compounds or assigned to an ambassador’s security team.”
Deacon flushed. “That’s what I wanted to do, believe me.” He had busted his ass for years, taking every xenorelations class he could, only to get passed over time and time again for promotion because of his lack of pull. “But you need clout to get those assignments.”
“Clout?”
“Influence,” Zhan supplied. “In the form of money, family connections, or a highly placed patron.” He smiled thinly at Deacon. “We’ve very familiar with this form of bartering on Xyran.”
“Yeah, I bet you are,” Deacon muttered. “Since I don’t have any of those, I never got picked for an Alphan security slot.”
Taric’s expression darkened. “I must speak with our local command about this,” he rumbled. “The human military attached to our embassies are supposed to be warriors of honor and valor, not sycophants who obtained their positions through chicanery.”
Deacon snorted. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. Earth is turning into a shithole, if you haven’t noticed. Anyone with clout is going to do backflips to get in good with the Alphans, especially if it gives them a chance of getting off-planet.”
Taric glanced at Zhan. “I take it your government is aware of this?”
“Of course.” The Xyran flicked elegant fingers. “I can think of at least four slave traders who have deals with various Earth officials to look the other way when they come here for a raid. The officials are promised wealth, and then later a home on Xyran and a slave harem of their own. You’d be surprised how many humans are more than happy to sell their own people to us for that kind of opportunity.”
Taric glowered at that. “And you wonder why our people cannot get along.”
“It’s how my culture functions, my heart. There’s precious little I can do about it, even with my rank.”
Deacon’s curiosity piqued. “Your rank?”
Zhan gave him a short, ironic bow. “My full title is Lord Zhan, Sixth of the Tribe of Desh, may my sire’s glory live forever.” He made a face. “At least until one of my older brothers decides to poison the old bastard.”
Desh was one of the major tribal leaders on Xyran, Deacon remembered. In Earth terms, Zhan was a minor prince. And he was going down on me? “How many older brothers do you have?”
“Five, hence my designation as Sixth, and all of them are as bloodthirsty as my sire. After spending most of my childhood surviving assassination attempts, I gave up my place in the line of inheritance and took apprenticeship with the Urrana. I believe humans call it, ‘if you can’t beat them, join them.’”
More memories from Deacon’s xenorelations classes surfaced. The Urrana were a clan of legendary Xyran assassins, ruthless and absolutely deadly. “Why are you telling me all this?” he asked.
Zhan smiled. “Because Taric seems to think that you are our bondmate. If that is true, then you have nothing to fear from me. And if it isn’t, I can always kill you later.”
“Zhan,” Taric said reprovingly.
The Xyran shrugged. “I’m simply suggesting it’s in his best interests to be our bondmate.”
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