Saturday, July 12, 2014

Damaged - Planet Alpha by Erin M. Leaf

Damaged - Planet Alpha — by Erin M. Leaf now available!

Erotic Romance, Menage (MMF), Sci-Fi, Suspense, Futuristic
Word Count: 34,400
Heat Level 4
Published By: Evernight Publishing
ISBN: 9781771309219
pages: 107

Cori knows her Xyran captivity has damaged her ability to trust, but when she meets Reiyn, desire flares despite her fear. He's clearly hiding something, but when a distress call sends them into space together, passion takes over.
Cori enflames Reiyn like no other female ever has. She threatens his control over his hidden Xyran heritage, but he can't fight his instincts. When his true nature is exposed during the daring rescue of a dying Xyran captain, will Cori forgive him, or will he continue his life's work alone?
Captain Kyuk welcomes death when his ship is destroyed. He doesn't expect to survive, but when Cori and Reiyn find him, instinct pushes him to live. He's spent years smuggling slaves to freedom—can he now give up his own liberty to bond with Cori and Reiyn? Or is he too damaged to build that kind of emotional connection? 
Be Warned: menage sex (MMF), rimming, anal sex, m/m interaction
 buy links: Evernight - Amazon - ARe - BookStrand - Smashwords

Story Excerpt:
Kyuk twisted around. She stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a thin shift. It shimmered as she moved, flowing over the curves of her body as she walked towards them. He could just make out her nipples pebbling beneath the cloth.
Reiyn sucked in a breath, and Kyuk felt his blood-kin’s cock press into his hip.
“You are not resting,” Kyuk said, stating the obvious. Arousal scrambled his wits. He opened his mouth instinctively, scenting his mates with his tongue. He hadn’t done that earlier, likely because the cryo-sleep had still been wearing off.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, stopping just shy of them. The uncertainty on her face as she looked at them cut him to the quick.
“Come closer,” he said, reaching a hand out to her. “Surely you must know we would not harm you. We have been trapped in this ship for hours upon hours—time enough for you to learn who we are.”
She hesitated, looking at Reiyn.
Kyuk’s blood-kin spoke. “You are part of us, now, undeniably.” He touched his neck, a suggestion of where they’d bitten her. “Come here.”
Hesitantly, she walked forward, the last step brushing her breasts against his arm.
Kyuk’s control finally snapped. He grabbed her and yanked her up against his body. “Say yes,” he hissed, bending to kiss her.
She trembled in his arms. “You frighten me.”
He froze, lips against her mouth. “I will never hurt you.”
She sucked in a breath and glanced at Reiyn.
His earrings glinted in the low light as he nodded solemnly. “He does not lie. There can be only truth among us.”
She ran a hand up Kyuk’s arm, then cupped his jaw. “Yes,” she whispered against his cheek.
The moment she said yes, Kyuk kissed her like a man starving. No, not a man, she thought brokenly. A Xyran. And I’ve waited long enough to let him touch me. I don’t want to wait anymore.
“I want to taste you,” he growled, nipping down her jaw. “I want to see all of you.”
She shuddered, arousal flaring through her so fast she felt dizzy. “Yes. A thousand times, yes,” she murmured, drunk with recklessness. She didn’t normally talk like that, but these males overwhelmed her. Their energy swirled through her like warm taffy, strong and reassuring. When Kyuk kissed her again, his fangs nipped her lip. Blood welled up. The warmth of his energy flared into a blazing heat, and she cried out, knees going weak.
Reiyn swept her up into his arms. “The bridge is no place for sex.”
“Is that what we’re going to do? Have sex?” she asked, a little put out. What she was feeling was so much more than lust it wasn’t even funny.
“No,” Kyuk said, trailing a hand through her hair. “Not just sex.” He started taking off his clothes and dropping them as they walked: leather shirt, boots, pants. By the time they reached the sleeping quarters, he was nude.
Cori stared at Kyuk as Reiyn lowered her to the mattress. Kyuk’s body looked like something out of a vid. His muscles flexed as he went to his knees, and her mouth went dry. Reiyn stepped back and began undressing, completely unselfconscious in front of her. Both of them were a lot bigger than she was, and much stronger.
They could break me in half, if they wanted to, she thought, fear sparking through her, but then Kyuk touched her ankle and the energy of the bond seeped further into her bones. His cock bobbed as he maneuvered next to her. Suddenly, more than anything, she wanted to touch him. She reached out a hand and wrapped her fingers around his thick length.
Kyuk moaned. “Cori, blood-kin—” He broke off when she began to explore. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, then gently drew her arm away. “Wait.”
She wrinkled her nose at him, but then Reiyn was back, as naked as Kyuk. She reached out and trailed her fingertips over the diamonds embedded into their skin. “I know this must have been painful.”
“Yes, but you like them anyway, do you not?” Reiyn asked, smiling.
Cori flushed. “Yeah. They’re sexy.”
He laughed, and she stared. She’d never seen a Xyran laugh with joy before. Always, during her captivity, they’d barked orders. Sometimes they laughed, but usually with cruelty.
“I would go through the pain all over again to put that look on your face, Cori,” he said.
She shook her head. “I don’t want your pain. Never that.”
He cupped her face. “You can have whatever you want from me.”
“I want you to make love to me,” she whispered, not sure if he’d understand what she was asking.
She needn’t have worried. He kissed her, pressing her into the mattress. His weight felt good against her skin. When Kyuk moved in, nibbling down her throat, she writhed. It was almost too much. But only almost, she thought, grabbing their hair. Thick, black strands slid through her fingers like silk.

Author Details:
Erin M. Leaf is a romance novel devotee, the steamier the better, with a specialty in edgy erotic tension. She also writes romance as Marie E. Blossom.
Twitter: @erinmleaf

The Drowning by A.C. Katt

Seriously ill, in pain with no money for medication or food, Dennis sets out to North Beach to drown but ends up being saved more ways than he can imagine.

Walking along the beach one evening, Luca Ferone encounters a body floating in the water. Being told to kiss off after rescuing the man isn't what he expected.

Dennis O'Shea was ready to end it all. Being saved wasn't in his plans.One look in Dennis' eyes is all Luca needs to be lost. He won't let anything get in the way until Dennis is his. Dennis doesn't go easily but realizes that Luca is a man used to getting his own way. Can the two find their way together?

Chapter One
Dennis Michael O'Shea could no longer walk by the sea. He used to put on a full body wet suit and chase the waves up and down the Jersey Shore from March through November. A year ago he was diagnosed with mixed connective tissue disease with lupus and a plethora of other medical issues that came along with it. Now, he couldn't make it past the boards without stopping to rest. Dennis Michael wasn't sixty-five or even a poorly preserved forty. Dennis had celebrated his twenty-fifth birthday the day before. The date always marked the official start of his personal surfing season. This year he intended it to mark the day of his death.
The walk to the water was difficult. He'd had to stop several times to catch his breath. The trip from his small apartment on Sunset had already consumed most of his limited store of energy, but just a few feet and Dennis Michael could relax and meet his maker. He sat in a small eddy, the sand already wet. The tide was on its way in to the shore. The mist hung heavy over the water like a gray blanket silencing the roar of the angry sea. March was the cruelest month. The ocean could be angry or placid, temperature cold or temperate. Tonight, March showed Jack Frost's face. The light cotton rugby shirt he wore did little to keep the chill from Dennis' fair skin. It was a favorite and kept only for special occasions. The red, yellow and navy interweaving striped pattern shirt came from Abercrombie and Fitch. It had been a Christmas gift from his former lover, lost, as everything else had been, in the riptide of the previous year.
Grandma O'Shea had always instructed Dennis to wear clean underwear just in case there was an accident and he went to the emergency room. He smiled as he thought about his Grams. It was in her honor that he wore his only good shirt and pants, beige Dockers, to his own death. There was no clean underwear, Dennis went commando so Grams would remain unashamed; all his remaining briefs were holey, like the socks he tossed, just stuffing his feet into a pair of Nikes.
The small number of personal items he wished to leave his sisters were secreted in the trunk of his Honda. He left his art and paper making frames, supplies, glues and dyes and the few canvases of his work completed before he was struck down sat in the back seat. His work sold well at his first show after college. These were to go in the second show that never came. He left two of his canvasses with a note to the management company that took care of the apartment complex. His former agent would be able to find a buyer and the two canvases would pay his debt. They were his last assets. It didn't matter, he no longer needed assets. Dennis had only two passions in life the first was his art, the second, Matt. The disease had cost him both.
His medium was paper. His agile fingers sculpted and shaped his hand-made papers into fantastical dimensions. He had his first showing just out of college at twenty-three. He used rags and linen and special fibers to create papers which he shaped with paste, dyes and glazes into visions of heroic fantasy. His art was very popular with the New Age crowd, but he had taken a new, more mature direction in preparation for his second show. His pieces had become more realistic, portraits of the mind. The gallery wanted at least forty pieces for a show, so he taught art at a local high school to cover his daily expenses and buy supplies. He worked feverishly at night putting his visions in three dimensions on canvas.
Matty had always been there. They'd grown up together in the Irish bastion of Belmar, just to the south. It was a working class life. Da owned a shot and beer joint on Main Street; Ma cooked in the kitchen and his older sisters had waited on tables. Matt and he knew pretty much from the age of ten that they were "different" from
their schoolmates at the local Catholic elementary school. The sisters encouraged them more than the others to be priests. They had gone on to public high school at their own insistence. It was there they found out about labels, prejudice and what evil hate could produce. It solidified their relationship and moved it from friends to lovers. Dennis had never looked back. He and Matty attended the same college, roomed together, graduated and moved to the gay community in Asbury Park where they were just free to be. For three years, it was the stuff of Dennis' dreams.
By his twenty-third birthday, his parents had sold the bar and moved on to a senior living trailer park in Florida. His sisters, who always seemed to act as a pair, married the Polanski brothers, who he always believed were dumb as posts. They moved out of state. He missed his sisters, but the removal of the Polanski brothers from his intimate circle was the silver lining of that cloud. They were macho assholes whose supply of "faggot" jokes was minuscule, yet repeated in endless cycles at every family gathering. Dennis longed to whack them up the side of the head with a two by four. He and Matt laughed at their solution to the Polanski problem. Matt said, "Hell, Den, it could only raise their IQ, it couldn't get any lower." This would result in laughter, kisses and hard loving. He missed the loving.
The water was up to his ankles and he was numb from the cold. Once, the cold bothered him. He used a fully-lined wet suit to ride the sporadic East Atlantic waves. Dennis traveled to the West Coast but the beaches of Malibu and Carmel did not appeal to him in the same way as the greenish gray of the Atlantic. It was this water that called to him when he was lying in a ball on the floor of the apartment he once shared with Matt, screaming in pain. The cold was nothing in comparison. To Dennis, pain had color and texture. Moderate pain was a deep orange band pulling tight, taking the breath from his lungs and tightening his joints into a vise-like grip. Orange could be managed by medication. Severe was blood orange spikes hammered into flesh, unrelenting in their assault. Blood orange watched the second hand of the clock waiting for the next dose of painkillers. It could cause you to beg and scream, if you let it.
Unbearable was red, the red of fire, brimstone and hell. Red consumed you with thousands of needles each precisely tuned to a nerve ending. Red knew each ending with intimacy. Red took your mind and left you on the floor in a ball, screaming. Dennis had done a lot of the ball thing.
He wasn't a coward. The pain hadn't sent him to the beach. It was the dreams-dreams destroyed, ripped out of his heart and flung into oblivion. After he became sick, it only took two months for Matt to leave.
Dennis spent four weeks in the hospital, and four in rehab. He was about to come home, and despite his weakened condition, he looked forward to being in Matt's arms. With Matty at his side, he could conquer anything. Then his cell rang. It was Mary Katherine. She was on her way in from Pennsylvania to bring him home. Matt had called her. "He got a promotion and packed up and moved to Cleveland, Ohio this morning. He said you knew, he thought he'd be able to pick you up but he caught an earlier plane."
Dennis sat at the edge of his bed, stunned. He'd spoken to Matty last evening, telling him what time to pick him up. Matt didn't even have the courage to tell him on the telephone, much less in person. He was in a semi-catatonic state. He didn't respond to the staff in the rehab center and they were ready to call the doctor and have him committed to a psych ward for what they thought was a catatonic state but Mary Katherine and Nora arrived in time. Both sisters gathered him in their arms, and got him into the car. They stopped off and picked up some of the things from his ravaged apartment. He couldn't even make the stairs. Nora stayed in the car while Mary Katherine, the elder by a year, went to pack.
They thought he was asleep on the trip back to Westchester. Nora drove while Mary Katherine described
what she saw. According to his sister, Matt took most of everything they had. He didn't even leave the mattress; he took it and the frame plus both antique maple dressers. The little bistro table with its two chairs was gone from the kitchen as were all of the small appliances, dishes, pots, glasses and silverware. Mary Katherine knew who had paid for everything; she and Nora had shopped with Dennis because Matty had no interest in "domestic" issues. He took almost all the towels and the linens, leaving only one set of sheets and a few of the threadbare towels from college. The bastard left only one folding chair in the living room. Mary Katherine ended her recital with "The devil at least had the decency to leave the boy's art and his supplies. If he hadn't I'd have sent Stanley to get it all back."
"And," Nora joined in, "Chet would have been right beside him or not bother coming home."
Dennis was almost amused at the idea of his homophobic brothers-in-law riding to his defense like the white knights of old. He was a man; the sisters could coddle him a bit, but then he would go home and pick up the pieces.
As days passed there were fewer and fewer pieces to pick up. Nora and Mary Katherine were patient, taking turns driving him into Jersey to see his doctors. They would prescribe and test. With each new test and prescription Nora and Mary Katherine would hope, and hope would be dashed. It didn't look as if Dennis was regaining his strength. Living with the Polanski problem full time hadn't helped. He shuffled off between sisters, his brothers-in-law tormenting him with his helplessness as soon as his sisters weren't looking. Dennis realized staying with the girls wasn't a real option. He asked to go home.
All totaled up he spent six months with the girls, six wasted months. He arrived back home just after Christmas. He intended to begin teaching in January. Dennis was out of work but paid a good portion of his salary under the teacher's union disability insurance. But his sick leave was used up in March, he needed to get his life back. He missed Matty; his leaving had burned a hole in Dennis' soul. They talked, and Matt confessed he had found someone on an out of town trip just around the time of Dennis' first lupus flare. He had stayed as long as he was able. Dennis was bitter. He needed no pity from Matt. A clean break in the beginning would have been best for both of them. Matt never had the balls to meet anything head on; Dennis just let him skulk away, not even cashing the "guilt" check he sent in replacement for looting their apartment. At least he had left Dennis' checking account alone.
Dennis was numb enough to lie down on the sand. The water ran up the Dockers and splashed up over his arms and the sides of his shirt. The waves were higher and breaking closer to his feet. His emerald eyes were shut against the mist. He no longer shivered. The numbness of hypothermia had begun. Soon he would sleep. He took his last two Percocet as he struggled from the car to the sand. He'd parked on a little trafficked street in front of Asbury Towers, a senior residence about twenty plus stories high. Originally intended as luxury apartments, it fell to a charity. The small street at its rear faced the ocean at North Beach. The Towers sat next to the Sewage Plant which occasionally gave off sulfurous odors. But North Beach was home to those free spirits who didn't have the funds or the temperament for the "cabana" or "beach pass" crowd. The beach hosted lovers under blankets and surfers riding the waves without life guards or park rangers asking questions. After a pickup at one of the local gay clubs, a trip to the beach would ensue when the lovers didn't have the price of a motel. It was at North Beach that Matt first penetrated Dennis. Dennis thought it was the appropriate place to end his life.
He was angry. Although Matt didn't touch his checking, he'd wiped out their savings. He sold fifteen of the paintings Dennis prepared for his second art show and took the money. Dennis had no proof of Matt's larceny. Matty had all of his PIN numbers, access to all of his accounts. Matt was his accountant as well as his lover.
Matt was the one who found him his agent. When he contacted her, she produced signed statements from Dennis giving Matty permission to sell his art for "medical expenses." Dennis denied giving Matt permission but the paintings were already sold and he would have to prosecute Matty to get the money.
Dennis tried to work. The school administration sent him to a physician. The school doctor said that Dennis was no longer physically able to continue working. He recommended Social Security Disability and Medicare. Dennis didn't have tenure, nor did he have the money or pull to fight. He applied. The amount he received was ridiculously small and Medicare took six months to kick in. His school insurance would pay for his prescriptions, but the co-pays for the drugs he took accounted for one-third of his check. His rent was high and he no longer had Matt to share the expense. His small car was paid in full, but gas was expensive and if he drove, he didn't eat. He only used it to get to the doctor and it was March. Medicare wouldn't begin until June.
It took a mere three months for Dennis to be down to his last few dollars. Pills or food? Neither. Instead he chose bliss, the water, his beach and silence. The next wave came up over his waist. The undertow was treacherous here. It began the slow pull into the sea. The salt water from Dennis' eyes met the salt water of the sea and became one. He floated a bit, mindless, numb-then sank.

Mary Lynn Hansel
Writing as AC Katt

Author of:
From MLR Press: Shattered Glass, A Matter of Trust

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Virgin by Jessica Freely

Did you know that when you order books directly from a publisher's website, the author retains a larger portion of the purchase price? It's true! Fewer intermediaries means more profit and right now, you can save big and shower your favorite author's with love. 
In celebration of their 10th anniversary, Loose Id is running sales on select titles and this week, Virgin is marked down to just $2.69! This was my first release with Loose and it's still one of my favorites. Grab yours now, and keep an eye on that daily deals page all month long because there are more great deals on the way!

Blurb for Virgin: When Joam, a shape-shifter with otherworldly sexual powers, makes love with hustler Blake, neither realizes they are foiling the plans of a cabal of sorcerers.  Now, Blake has robbed them of their virgin sacrifice and they want retribution in blood. 

Excerpt; With food in his stomach, Joam’s head had cleared and he could think a little bit beyond the ever-present arousal he felt in Blake’s presence. Blake, not Jasper. This was some guy from the big city, not his fantasy boy come to life. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

They reached the Oldsmobile Delta 88 and Joam gave the engine compartment a quick perusal. “Your timing belt broke,” he said, shutting the hood again.

“Oh,” said Blake. “Can you fix it?”

Obviously this guy couldn’t wait to put Beulah behind him. Who could blame him? Joam shook his head, ashamed at the pleasure the answer gave him. “Not tonight. We’ll have to get the part from Greenville and the earliest that can happen is tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Blake looked around himself as if lost. “I’ll need a place to stay. I didn’t see a motel in town. I…uh, I don’t have much money.”

“There’s one on the other side of town,” said Joam. “The Easy Rest. It’s cheap. I can take you there after we get your car to the garage.” And stay, his mind continued, though he didn’t speak the thought. I can stay and we can make love all night long. His erection was back. Had Blake noticed? Was he even gay? He looked gay but appearances could be deceiving.

He struggled with the issue all the way back to Beulah. Even if Blake was gay, he probably wouldn’t want him; and if he was a hustler, as Joam suspected, there was no money to pay for sex. Fresh anger at Higgs shot through him. He was going to miss out on probably his one and only opportunity to have sex with a real live man and it was all because of that asshole.

But wait…Blake had said he didn’t have much money. That meant he didn’t have much money for the car repairs either… Maybe they could work something out…

If Joam ever got up the nerve to say something. They were almost in town already. Come on, he thought. A second ago you were ready to go a week without food for the sake of getting it on with this guy, what’s the hold up? Afraid he’ll say no? What’s another humiliation in the greater scheme of things? And he’s a stranger -- he’ll be gone soon, taking your secret with him. There’ll never be a better chance. “Why are you dressed like that?” he blurted.

All this time Blake had been silent, looking out the window, seemingly at ease, but now he tensed. There was a pause. At last he said, “I had to leave town in a hurry. I didn’t have time to change.”

Joam tried to ignore his disappointment. “So that’s not what you usually wear? You were at a costume party or something?”

Blake laughed, but it wasn’t a mean laugh. Joam knew it wasn’t a laugh at him even before Blake said, “Oh my god. I’m sorry. It’s just this situation. This is just so… Look. You seem like a decent guy, Joam, so I’m just going to tell you the truth and trust that you’re not going to beat me up and leave me by the side of the road --”

Joam just managed to stifle a gasp. Blake thought he might hurt him? He’d been in the doorway of the office. Had he seen Joam with the chair? Had he seen more? Joam had thought nothing more had happened but there was no way to be sure. He turned to look at Blake just as Blake was finishing his sentence.

“-- I’m a hustler. A gay hustler.”

Joam couldn’t help it. He smiled then forced himself to look back at the road. They were in town now, just passing Sam’s. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ve been nice to me. You shared your food with me. I would never hurt you. I --” He glanced over again, his last words unspoken. I want to make love with you.

The worry lines creasing Blake’s forehead relaxed. He smiled back. “You’re a good guy, Joam. I’m lucky I found you.”

Sweating, Joam brought the truck to a stop at the blinking red light. The way Blake was looking at him -- so open and friendly -- he felt…seen, for the first time since his mom died. This was better than Jasper January. Suddenly brave, he said, “I don’t have any money, but…I could fix your car for free.”

Blake blinked in surprise.

Not wanting to see the distaste on his face, Joam looked away and concentrated on pulling the truck into the parking lot of the service station. What was he doing? What if Blake agreed but only because he had no choice? What was he going to do then? Let Blake “service” him because he held the power of car repair over him? Was that what he wanted?

Blake’s tenor voice came to him, sweet and warm. “I think I understand what you’re suggesting, Joam, and I think that would be lovely.”

The words unleashed a torrent of emotion inside him and undid the last of his restraint. Lovely! He slammed the truck into park, heedless of the Olds on the hitch, which lurched forward with a crunch and a splintering of glass. The headlights. Fuck it. Higgs had some good ones, he’d steal ’em and install them when he did the other repair. His hands shook as he fumbled with his seatbelt and at last got it off.

He threw himself across the seat, grabbed Blake by the shoulders and kissed him hard. Blake’s lips were soft and his stubble scraped against Joam’s cheek, igniting every nerve in his face. Blake’s shoulders beneath his hands were round and hard, like twin boulders. Their mutual arousal perfumed the close air of the truck cab and made Joam drunk. His dick, already sore from near-constant arousal, throbbed painfully. He took a deep breath and fought for control. It would be so easy to lose himself. As if of their own volition, his hands sought out the fly of Blake’s shorts. “What…what do we do first?”

Blake’s hands, warm and strong, closed over his fingers and squeezed, stilling their frantic efforts. “First, we go someplace private. Is there someplace we can go where we won’t be interrupted?”

His heart sank, thinking of his cot. He didn’t even have a curtain to close off the corner. Higgs could come in at any time and find them. Frustration brought tears to his eyes.

“Hey,” Blake’s voice was as gentle as the hand that stroked the side of his face. “What about that motel you mentioned? Could we go there?”

“I don’t have any money.”

“I have enough, for tonight anyway.”

Joam blinked, disbelieving. “But you’re… I’m supposed to pay you.”

“You’re going to fix my car, remember? Besides, I’m going to have to pay for the room anyway. I need a place to sleep tonight.” Blake’s voice and his gentle hands calmed Joam. “It’s okay.”

Joam believed him.

Copyright © Jessica Freely

Sunday, June 29, 2014


In the race for freedom—and love—there’s no holding back.
The Kithran Regenesis, Book 4 
After fourteen torturous years as a slave on a galaxy roving entertainment ship, Siri carries only vague memories of parents who loved her, Gwinarian food, and her beautiful home planet of Kithra.
When two space pirates burst into her owner’s room, the choice they offer her is all too easy: stay and face government questioning about the two intruders, or take a chance and go with them.
Claybourne and Anders had planned to help expose the pleasure ship owner’s involvement in Kithra’s destruction. But when they happen upon Siri, saving one of the last—and most beautiful—of the Gwinarian race takes precedence. 
Siri tastes freedom long denied…and temptation to succumb to the deep sexual tension vibrating between her and her two liberators. Clay and Anders take pleasure in letting her take the lead in rediscovering the power of intimacy.
But there are more secrets to uncover, and Siri senses that the closer they come to the truth, the closer she comes to the most painful choice of all—to let her pirate lovers go.


Product Warnings
Sexy human space pirates. An acerbic-tongued crew. A beautiful wounded alien woman. M/M/F sparks galore, and interplanetary intrigue.


Someone touched my arm and I flinched, then blinked at Clay, who stood looking at me with concern. “Is it too much?”

“Is what too much?” I whispered, still trapped in memories.

He nodded toward the vidscreens where images of Kithra’s explosions were now being played—vids that had come in before all communication had been cut off.

Some of the same vids Lashin had used to break me.

I met that light blue gaze and nodded. “Is it okay if I go back to my room?”

“Of course. You are free to do anything you want.”

I had to walk past Anders to leave and he too watched me closely. I didn’t know what made me do it, but I stopped just behind him and put my hand on the same shoulder Clay had touched. I squeezed. His hand came up and covered mine as he continued to try and read my emotions. I poked and prodded past my own inner torment brought on by memories and found a smile for him. A real one.

He sucked in a breath, stared hard at my mouth, then shook his head ruefully. “You are going to make my heart break again, aren’t you?”

I lifted an eyebrow over the again part, then realized Clay had heard Anders and gone still. The two men stared at each other. Nobody else was paying attention—all eyes on the replay of the same horrific vids.

Clay walked right up to Anders and leaned down until their faces were only inches apart. He whispered, “Who broke whose heart?”

The emotion that stretched between Anders and the captain touched me—really touched me. I could feel it in the warmth that cropped up again—the one I never could drum up, even with the nicer men and women who had taken me in for the night. Not that there’d been that many nice ones. Good people didn’t frequent ships like the one I had been on.

These were good men, pirates or not, and whatever kept them from being together seemed pretty damned ridiculous to me right then.

I glanced back at the screens, took in the visuals of pods exploding, knowing that people, my people, had been inside them.

Clay and Anders were alive and they obviously loved each other.

As I turned my back on them and the screens and made my way back to my bunkroom, it hit me. I was alive too. Alive and free and I owed that to those two men.

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Saturday, June 28, 2014

Preternatural Rescue Centre Series Book 5 by Ellen Cross

Preternatural Rescue Centre Series Book 5
By Ellen Cross

Lee’s been locked away for so long that he’s forgotten what it’s like to have hope, or why he’s been held. When a voice speaks inside his head, telling him help is on the way, he won’t allow himself to believe the words, writing them off as insanity finally taking hold. When help arrives in the form of a pair of sexy fey warriors who break down the wall to his prison, Lee’s fear takes over.

Years ago, Arrameus and Cruziel crossed the veil as outcasts. They’re Guardians, warriors, known for being ruthless and unstoppable in the battle against the shadowkin. Nothing shakes their resolve, until a small wheelchair-bound human brings them to their knees. He’s their Nanta, their destiny, but how will they come to terms with the fact their mate is trapped behind more walls then the one that imprisoned him, and more importantly, how will they break through them?
  A few hours later, a muffled thud sounded from somewhere outside his walls. He thought he heard scuffling, but that could have just been a roach, running around the edges of his mattress. The scuffling became a tapping against the board that had walled him in. Voices murmured, and as Lee turned toward the wall, a sharp spot of light formed along the top, a glinting object piercing the light and jerking to one side. The object disappeared, yet the light grew in its place as fingers reached in. The fingers became hands that grabbed onto the edges of the light, pulling against the boarding and yanking away great hunks. Moments passed as more pieces of the wall fell away under the grip of two sets of hands. The light was too bright for Lee to keep looking, so he closed his eyes, a little startled that his mind had created a different way to occupy itself. If only it were true, but Lee knew better. He was hallucinating, finally losing what little control he had left over his mind. He almost looked forward to it, wondering what other things his mind would create to entertain him. That was until a litany of swear words had Lee attempting to open his eyes again.
    The light was blinding, but a shadow moved into the light’s path and warmth covered the side of his cheek. He opened his eyes and blinked, startled to see a pale man with even paler, long hair, peering into his eyes as he crouched over and held a hand to Lee’s face. The man’s expression was one of horrified shock, yet as Lee soaked in each detail of the man’s pearlescent skin, a small smile played on his lips. The man turned, looking to his side, where his clone was also leaning over. It took Lee a moment to realise what he was seeing, and when he did, a hysterical giggle broke free from his dry throat, sounding more like a gravely rumble. The men had long ears, pointed yet delicate. Oh yeah, Lee’s mind had finally cracked. Why else was he seeing faeries?

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Sunday, June 22, 2014

His Dirty Little Secret by STORMY GLENN

His Dirty Little Secret (MM)
Sammy & Friends 3
This title is offered at a 15% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, June 26th.
[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Interracial Romance, M/M, light bondage, HEA]
Detective Graham Craig has been having an affair with R.N. Darren Sanford for nearly a year, a secret affair. Graham doesn't want anyone to know. When Darren's emotions become too deeply involved, Graham knows he has to break things off, even if it feels like he's cutting out his own heart.
When separation from Darren becomes more than he can stand, Graham goes back to Darren, begging for another chance. He sets out to prove to Darren that what they have together is special. Then Graham learns some terrifying news that changes everything. Someone has put a hit out on him and everyone he loves. Graham knows what he has to do. As much as it pains him, Graham tells Darren they are over, again. He knows that this time, Darren will never give him another chance, but at least the man will be alive to hate him. Graham goes into protective custody along with other members of the drug task force he works on and his family.
But when well-meaning friends interfere, can Graham save the man he loves before an assassin's bullet gets him, or will he lose Darren before he has a chance to tell him and the entire world of his love?
Note: This book was previously published with another publisher and has been extensively revised and expanded.


“Hello?” Darren said.
“Hey, baby, it’s me.”
“What do you want?” Darren asked when he recognized Graham’s voice on the phone.
“I thought we were going to spend the night together?”
“Why don’t you go spend the night with Troy’s brother?” Darren snapped. Graham’s words had quickly brought home the fact that they would never be an item. He would always be Graham’s dirty little secret.
“Oh, come on, Dar,” Graham said. “You know I didn’t mean it that way. I had to say those things.”
“No.” Darren snorted. “You didn’t. You really didn’t.”
Darren heard Graham sigh deeply. He knew what Graham was going to say even before he said it and his heart ached. He could go his entire life without hearing what Graham was about to say to him.
“Darren, you knew how things had to be before we got involved. I explained it all to you and you agreed to it.”
“Yes, I did.” And agreeing to Graham’s stipulations had been the biggest mistake of his life. But back then, Darren just wanted to get the man in his bed and didn’t care how he did it. He would have agreed to anything.
He had no idea he would grow to love Graham.
“Then let me come in,” Graham said softly.
Darren’s breath caught in his throat. He got up from his bed, walked over to the bedroom window, and glanced out the slit in the curtains. He could see Graham sitting in his car, the cell phone held to his ear.
Darren closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window. He knew what he needed to do, what he should do. He took a deep breath and tried to find the words to send Graham away. Words that would shatter his heart.
“Please, Dar?”
“I’ll unlock the door,” Darren whispered as he pushed himself away from the window and walked out of his bedroom. With each step he took, Darren berated himself for his weakness.
Graham was bad for him. He knew that. Oh, Graham would never physically hurt him, but the emotional whirlpool Darren swam in every time he saw Graham was devastating.
Darren had been so sure he could handle an emotionless relationship with Graham. They could be friends and just fool around occasionally. People did it all of the time. And, in the beginning, that’s exactly how it worked, but the more time Darren spent with Graham, the more he grew to care for the man.
Now, a year later, Darren knew he was head over heels in love with Graham. He’d do anything for the man. He’d even tried to hide his feelings from Graham so they could continue to see each other.
Graham knew, though. Darren knew he did. Over the last couple of months they spent less and less time together until they barely saw each other at all. Darren saw more of Jamie, Graham’s best friend, than he saw of his occasional lover.
Darren just didn’t know what to do. He could no more deny Graham’s request to come inside than he could ask for the man to acknowledge him to their friends. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
He unlocked the door and opened it a crack before turning away and walking back to his bedroom. He heard the front door close and the lock click into place before he even reached his bedroom doorway.
Graham was here!
Darren’s heart beat faster when he heard Graham’s footsteps behind him. Strong, muscular arms encircled him. Darren leaned back against Graham’s chest and closed his eyes. He stood there, savoring the feel of his lover wrapped around him. It felt like it had been forever since he felt Graham hold him.
“We can’t keep doing this, Graham,” he whispered. He didn’t want to say the words, but he knew they had to be said, for both of their sakes.
“I know, baby.”
Callused fingers stroked the side of Darren’s face. Darren felt tears pool in his eyes and closed them tighter. “Isn’t there—?” he whispered.
“No, Dar,” Graham said. “You know this is the way things have to be.”
Darren turned in Graham’s arms and opened his eyes to look up into his face. His fingers plucked anxiously at the fabric of Graham’s shirt. “Can’t we—?”
His heart sank as he watched Graham’s eyebrows furrow. Darren closed his eyes again and dropped his head forward to rest against Graham’s chest. He took a deep breath then wished he hadn’t. Graham’s rich, musky scent filled his nostrils, overwhelming him.
Darren opened his eyes and tilted his head back to look at Graham again. He tried to smile but knew he failed when Graham frowned. Darren reached up and stroked his fingers over Graham’s lips.
“Okay, Graham, we’ll do it your way.” Darren’s chest ached as he said the words he knew Graham needed to hear. He imagined he could feel the actual breaking of his heart.
Darren grabbed Graham’s hand in his and pulled him over to the bed. He stopped and turned to Graham, reaching for the hem of the man’s shirt. “Make love to me.”


Darren walked across the bar and made a beeline for the men’s bathroom. He checked each stall once he got inside, thankful when he found them empty. Walking to the last one in the row, he stepped inside and locked the door behind him. He had his cock out of his pants and in his hand in three seconds flat.
Images of Graham floated through his head as he stroked his aching cock, each one more arousing than the last one. Graham had held the top position in Darren’s fantasies for ages. Darren masturbated to them nearly every day.
His breath heaved as his hand moved over his engorged shaft faster and faster. He could feel his balls start to tighten up against his body and knew his orgasm was only moments away. Darren pictured Graham laid out on his bed, the man’s naked body glistening in the low lights. He stroked faster.
Darren froze, mere seconds away from coming. He bit his lips to keep from groaning. He was so damn close. Beads of pre-cum dripped from the head of his cock. His balls felt heavy, achy.
“Darren,” the deep voice said again. “I know you’re in here. I watched you come in. Answer me, damn it.”
“What do you want, Graham?” Darren croaked out, embarrassed beyond belief at being caught jerking off in a public bathroom. He just hadn’t been able to help himself.
“What do you think I want?”
Darren groaned and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them and turned his head, he could see Graham peering over the edge of the bathroom stall door. Darren felt his skin flush. He knew he’d be turning several shades of red. His skin was pale. He always showed his embarrassment.
“So, this is what you do when you go to the bathroom.” Graham chuckled, and Darren felt his face flush again. Much more of this and he’d be red all of the way down to his toes. “And all this time, I thought you were coming in here to piss.”
“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Darren snapped.
“Open the door and I’ll help you out with that.”
Darren couldn’t get the door open fast enough. He unlocked it and stepped back, feeling delightfully crowded when Graham stepped inside and locked the door behind him.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” Graham whispered against Darren’s neck. The small lick of Graham’s tongue made Darren’s legs weaken. “It’s been weeks.”
“Whose fault is that?” Darren retorted.
“Don’t be like that,” Graham said as he leaned back and looked down into Darren’s face. “You know I’ve been busy working on that damn drug taskforce. I’ve barely had time to sleep, let alone have a social life.”
Darren frowned and glanced down. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve missed you, too.”
And he had. God, how he’d missed Graham. It’d been weeks since they had been able to spend any time together. Theirs wasn’t the usual sweetheart type of relationship, but Darren still savored every moment they spent together.
“Did you?” Graham crooned as he wrapped his hand around Darren’s cock and started slowly stroking his length from root to tip. “Show me how much, baby.”
Darren’s legs trembled. He pressed his head back against the stall wall. “It’s been so long, Graham,” he moaned quietly. “I need you.”
“You can have me,” Graham replied. “Let me come over tonight.”
“Yes.” Darren groaned. He groaned louder as visions of Graham fucking him filled his head. “Yes! Oh God, yes!”
Graham claimed Darren’s lips at the same moment his orgasm ripped through him. So overcome by the fire burning through his body, Darren could barely respond to the tongue thrust into his mouth.
Darren tried to extend the kiss, but Graham pulled away and put pressure on Darren’s shoulders, pushing him down. Darren dropped to his knees and reached for the zipper of Graham’s jeans.
He licked his lips as he watched the button slip free and the zipper slide down. Darren gasped, his heart pounding frantically as Graham’s cock bounced out of his jeans.
“Christ, Graham,” he groaned. “You’re not wearing any boxers.”
Graham chuckled above him. “I was hoping to see you tonight. I thought I’d cut out the middle man so we could get right down to business.”
Darren was in full support of that idea. He leaned forward and swiped his tongue across the head of Graham’s cock, groaned as the flavor of Graham’s pre-cum exploded across his tongue.
He leaned in farther and swallowed Graham down until his nose brushed against wiry pubic hair. Graham tasted so good, Darren didn’t even mind when the man pulled back then snapped his hips forward, driving his cock into Darren’s mouth.
“Fuck, Dar,” Graham growled. “It’s been so long. This won’t take much.”
Part of Darren regretted that. The quicker Graham got off, the quicker he pulled away, and Darren would have to go back to pretending they were just friends once again. Another part of Darren wanted to get Graham off from the sheer pleasure he could bring the man.
Hands clenched in Darren’s hair. “Your mouth is fucking perfect, Dar.”
Darren sucked harder, licked with more enthusiasm. He wanted to bring Graham to the heights of ecstasy. He wanted Graham to never consider having sex with anyone else except him ever again.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Sammy Dane by Stormy Glenn

Sammy Dane (MM)
Sammy & Friends 2
This title is offered at a 15% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, June 19th.

[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Romance, M/M, light bondage, sex toys, HEA]
Police Officer James Everson seems to go from one guy to another, never finding exactly what he wants. Frustrated and out of sorts, he goes to a local gay bar in the hopes of finding a guy and burning off some steam. What he finds is Sammy.
Samuel Dane Summers is a confirmed geek. He has all the classic symptoms, glasses, baggy slacks, white button down shirts. He’s a vegetarian. He forgets everything from paying his bills to locking his doors. Sammy needs a keeper. The one good thing he does is write erotic gay romance novels.
When these two meet, the fireworks explode. Sammy rocks James’s world, giving him the best sexual experience of his life. When it’s over, Sammy disappears.
James is devastated. He becomes obsessed with finding Sammy again. But an obsessed fan also wants to get his hands on Sammy, believing the books Sammy writes are their love story, and he’s not above taking James out of the picture to do it. Can James save his sexy little writer before it's too late or will he lose him forever?
Note: This book was previously published with another publisher and has been extensively revised and expanded.


James sat down at the bar and signaled the bartender for a beer. While he waited, he twirled around on his barstool and scoped out the room. Though still early in the evening, the place was fairly packed.
He had heard of Dooley’s Pub. He’d just never been there before. It was supposed to be a laid-back gay bar where a man could just get a beer and play a game of pool without worrying that someone would hit on him every time he turned around.
Despite that, James hoped he might be hit on once or twice. His prospects seemed to be pretty good if the looks he was getting were anything to go by. More than one man checked him out when he walked in, and even now. James smiled and turned back to the bar.
The evening was definitely looking up.
“That’ll be three fifty,” the bartender said as he set a beer bottle down in front of James. James pulled some bills out of his pocket and handed them over. He took a long sip of the beer, surprised at how good the cold liquid felt going down his throat.
“First time?”
James turned to look at the man next to him. He smiled, not in invitation, but just to be polite. The guy wasn’t his type at all. “Yes. I heard about this place from my brother and thought I’d check it out.” Nicky and Troy loved this place. Not as much as they loved The Peabody Pub where they met, but they still raved about Dooley’s every time they came here.
“I could show you around,” the guy said, clearly not getting the picture that James wasn’t interested, “and introduce you to the regulars.”
“No,” James replied, giving he man a polite smile, not a friendly one, “but thanks anyway. I think I’ll just sit here with my beer.”
“My name’s Kurt,” the man said. “If you change your mind, I’ll be around.”
James gave a little nod and turned back to his beer. He rolled his eyes. There were quite a few men in here he wouldn’t mind spending the night with. Why couldn’t one of them hit on him? Why did it have to be some man dressed like a librarian?
Suits, dress shirts, slacks . . . none of those things turned him on. Especially when the guy wearing them looked like he’d never seen a hard day’s work in his life. James wasn’t a prude by any means, but he preferred men who wore jeans and T-shirts, and who understood the concept of working hard and playing harder.
James barely finished the thought when he caught sight of a man coming through the front door of the bar in the mirror over the bar, a man who made him rethink his taste in nerdy-looking men. James swung around to get a better look. No, whoever this guy was, he certainly wasn’t James’s normal type at all, but something about the stranger intrigued him and made his cock stand up and beg for an introduction.
The man wore a loose pair of tan slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a tan suit jacket—everything James hated on a man. He looked like a bookworm or librarian, right down to his horn-rimmed glasses. The only thing lacking was a damned bowtie.
Oh, yeah? Then why am I so fuckin’ attracted to him?
“Andy?” the man said loudly as he got closer to the bar. “I need my usual.”
“Another hard night, Dane?” the bartender asked as he made up some sort of pink drink and set it on the bar top.
The man, Dane apparently, nodded. He grabbed the drink and swallowed it all down in one gulp. He coughed, slamming the glass back down on the bar. “Hit me again.”
“Are you sure, Dane?” the bartender asked skeptically. “You hardly ever have more than one.”
Dane nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Okay, you’re the boss.”
James watched, fascinated, as the bartender made the man another pink drink. He handed it over. Again, the man downed the drink in one swallow. He didn’t cough this time but handed the glass back.
“Okay, I’ll take a straight ginger ale now.”
The bartender poured Dane a ginger ale and set it on the bar. “Anything I can help you with?”
“No, I was working on this really hot shower scene between Robert and Greg when my brother called. He started in on me, and I lost my train of thought.”
James frowned. Hot shower scene? Robert and Greg? What was this man into? When Dane sat down two barstools away and started talking to the bartender, James leaned closer, his curiosity eating away at him.
“So, tell me about this shower scene,” the bartender directed.
James nodded his head in agreement. He wanted to know more about the shower scene as well. In vivid detail, please.
“Robert just got home from work. Greg’s been gone on that conference in Tokyo I told you about for the last week. When Robert gets home, he discovers Greg in the shower. Greg is tired, he has jetlag, but Robert is naked and crawling into the shower with him.”
James raised a brow and shifted to find a more comfortable position on the stool. With every word Dane uttered, James’s dick grew harder. He could just picture the scene in his mind. He had been tired before, so tired his eyes ached, but if his naked lover had crawled into the shower with him, he’d be so awake he would look like he just had three shots of espresso.
“So, what seems to be the problem?” the bartender asked. “Robert has Greg in the shower. They’re both naked. Let the scene just go from there. Just let it happen.”
Yeah, Dane, just let it happen, James encouraged silently.
Dane shook his head. “It’s not flowing right now. I’m just not feeling it. I know they are supposed to reconnect because they’ve been apart for awhile, but something is just not working for me. I feel like my muse is in a coma.”
“I’d be more than happy to help,” James found himself saying before he had even thought about the words.
Oh hell!


“Come on in,” Dane said as he unlocked the door. He bent down and picked up a small package off the porch and walked in. James raised a curious brow when Dane took the package directly to the garbage can and tossed it inside.
What the…?
“This way.” Dane headed down the hallway.
James shrugged. None of his business, anyway. In fact, he hoped they could keep the small talk to a minimum. He didn’t want to know the man’s life story or how many boyfriends he had had or anything really personal. He just wanted to get down to the good stuff.
Dane paused at a doorway at the end of the hall to look back at him, much as he had at the bar. “Coming?” he asked right before he stepped into the room and disappeared from sight.
“Uh, yeah,” James replied, hurrying down the hallway. He skidded to a halt, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head at the sight before him.
Dane stood in the middle of the bedroom, half-dressed. The sight of Dane’s bare upper torso brought James’s cock back to full attention. He had been wrong about the lack of muscles. Dane had then, and they were very nicely defined…like lickable defined.
Dane took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand. He opened one of the drawers and took out a piece of paper. He held it out to James. “My most recent test results. I’m clean. There’s also lube and plenty of condoms in here. Better safe than sorry.”
“Yeah,” James said, starting to feel a little funny about the whole situation. He was getting exactly what he wanted, sex with no strings attached. So, why was he starting to feel an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach?
“I have mine right here.” James pulled out his wallet and grabbed the folded piece of paper he always kept on him. He handed it over to Dane before stripping his clothes off as he watched the man skim the paper carefully then hand it back.
“Cool,” Dane said as if he had just looked at an interesting article in a newspaper instead of a doctor’s note stating James was clean of any sexually transmitted diseases.
James’s mouth dropped open as he stared down at Dane’s body after the man pushed his librarian-style khaki slacks to his ankles.
No way. No way a man as lanky as Dane could be sporting the hard-on that was displayed before James’s eyes. He had heard his brother brag about how big Troy was, but he didn’t think Troy would hold a candle to this man. Dane was huge, much bigger than anything James had ever seen in person.
Dane stepped closer. He reached up and caressed the side of James’s face as if touching a lover. “Don’t worry, James. By the time I’m done getting you ready, it’ll fit just fine.”
“Oh, uh, I don’t—I’ve never—” James stammered. Dane expected to top him? James had never been topped in his life. He did the topping. He did the fucking. He did the—well, he was the one on top.
Dane stepped closer. His warm breath blew over James’s cheek. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll go easy on you.”
James gasped as Dane pushed him back onto the bed. Before he could protest, Dane covered him, his lips and tongue and hands everywhere at once, licking, caressing, stroking, nipping. James’s mind went numb, and he forgot his protests and concentrated on the pleasure Dane created in his body.
“You’re so fucking responsive,” Dane whispered as he licked his way up the thick cords of James’s neck. “Do you know what a turn-on that is?”
James shook his head.
Dane grabbed James’s hand and placed it on his hard cock. “See what it does to me? How hot you make me?” Dane’s growl rumbled through James and settled in his cock. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for a week.”
James groaned. Dane’s words were arousing him to new levels. No one had ever talked to him like that. His cock throbbed where it lay against Dane’s thigh. The idea of being fucked incited both fear and excitement in the pit of his stomach.
But when Dane bent down and took James’s cock into his mouth, James forgot all about his trepidations. “Oh fuck!” he groaned loudly, not caring who heard him.
James’s heart raced, and all the blood in his body shot down to his cock, leaving him aching and engorged. Dane didn’t seem to notice James’s discomfort. He just continued what he was doing, driving James out of his ever-loving mind.
Dane slid his hot mouth all the way down James’s dick until his nose hit James’s groin. James could feel the head of his cock hit the back of Dane’s throat. Tight throat muscles massaged his shaft. The longest tongue James had ever felt wrapped around him.
James’s moved his hips, humping against Dane uncontrollably. He fisted his hands in Dane’s hair, seeking some semblance of control. The situation had moved forward so fast, James could barely catch his breath.
“Uh-uh,” Dane said as he let go of James’s cock and grabbed his wrists. “None of that.”
James scrunched his forehead in confusion. None of what?
He had his answer when Dane pushed his hands back over the top of his head. James started to look up to see what Dane was fiddling with when he felt cold metal close over his wrists and heard the unmistakable sounds of handcuffs clicking closed.
“What the fu—”
“Ssshhh, sweetheart,” Dane crooned. He placed the key in James’s hand. “You can release yourself whenever you want to and leave, but I promise you, if you stay, I will give you an experience you will never forget.”
Dane scooted back down James’s body. “I promise not to do anything you won’t enjoy.” With that, Dane dove back down on James’s cock.
James’s fist closed over the key. He didn’t unlock the cuffs. He was too busy losing his mind again. Dane had started swallowing around his cock again. He couldn’t imagine ever asking Dane to stop. He’d have to be dead first.