Friday, July 31, 2009

CALL ME SIR - Available Today!

By Stormy Glenn

The night Logan James subbed for the bartender at his club, he had no idea the love of his life would walk through the door, but the moment he saw Joey MacIntire, he wanted him. The only problem? How to initiate someone so young and obviously innocent into Logan’s D/s lifestyle. Logan decides to bide his time and wait for Joey to get to know him better.

Joey MacIntire came to the city to find someone to call his own. Logan James embodies everything Joey could ever want in a man, but while he treats Joey kindly, he doesn’t seem interested in anything more than friendship. Still, Joey has hope . . . and many late night fantasies. But after a year of waiting for Logan to give him more than a passing glance, Joey finally gives up. He decides to stop wasting his time at Logan’s club and try out the new place across town. Dante’s Dungeon is a BDSM club, and Joey is totally unprepared for what he sees there and what he discovers about himself.

When Logan discovers Joey’s intentions, he decides he’s waited long enough. It’s time to claim Joey as his own. Things heat up between the two men and they settle into a life of domestic D/s bliss, but there are outside forces at work—forces intent on destroying Joey and Logan’s newfound happiness.


Joey nodded to Toby as he made his way into the club. He waved to the bartender, Mack, and a few of the other regular patrons. Since Logan had claimed him, people seemed to go out of their way to be friendly.
Joey quickly climbed the steps. He knocked then opened Logan’s door and walked in.
“I brought you something to eat,” he said as he crossed the room to Logan’s large oak desk. “You hungry?”
Logan sat back in his chair. He ran his hand through his hair and grunted. Joey raised a brow. Logan seemed a little out of sorts. Lines of frustration creased his forehead. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and he had pen marks near his lower lip.
“Something wrong, honey?”
Logan shook his head then let it drop forward on the desk. “I hate paperwork.”
“You need me to leave?” Joey asked hesitantly.
“God no!” Logan exclaimed, lifting his head. He reached out and snaked his arms around Joey’s waist, pulling him over to stand between his strong thighs. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane right now.”
Joey laughed and squeezed Logan’s shoulders. “Need me to relieve some of your tension?”
Logan’s head pressed against Joey’s stomach. He groaned. “You brought me dinner. You don’t have to—”
Joey framed Logan’s face with his hands and tilted his head back. Looking down into Logan’s deep gray eyes, Joey smiled. “That’s not what I asked you. Do you need me to relieve some of your tension, sir?”
“Fuck, Joey!” Logan groaned, his eyes drifting closed. “I never should have told you what that word does to me.”
Joey laughed.
Logan opened his eyes and glared up at him. “I think you like using that word just a little too much.”
Joey leaned down and ran his hand across Logan’s erection, squeezing. “I like the response I get from you. I think it’s hot.” Joey dropped to his knees and reached for the zipper of Logan’s pants. “I think this is hotter.”
Joey pulled Logan’s pants apart, watching with great delight the hard cock that sprang forth. He leaned forward and licked up the tiny drops of pre-cum pooling on the large, purplish head.
Logan groaned, his cock jerking. Joey grinned up at him. “Yum!” He leaned in and ran his tongue around the crown and across the top. He sank farther onto the floor. He wanted to be angled just right so Logan could watch.
Over the last month, Joey had learned just how much Logan liked to watch. He liked to watch Joey give him blow jobs. He liked to watch Joey stretch and work out. He liked to watch Joey masturbate. Logan seemed to like to watch Joey do everything. A lot. And Joey loved the attention.
“Fuck, baby, that’s so pretty,” Logan said as Joey ran his tongue up the thick, veined sides of Logan’s cock. Out of the corner of his eye, Joey caught site of Logan’s hands gripping the edge of his seat. Logan’s fingers were almost white.
“Like that, do you?” Joey asked. “You’re going to love this.” Joey swallowed down Logan’s cock until his nose pressed against Logan’s groin. He tightened his lips and started quickly bobbing his head up and down.
“Joey, baby, you don’t know how good that feels,” Logan groaned. “Your mouth is perfect.”
Joey grinned around Logan then continued to move his head. He wanted Logan to forget whatever paperwork had made him crazy, even if just for a few minutes. Using his tongue, his lips, and his mouth, Joey went about driving Logan out of his mind.
“Gonna come, baby,” Logan tangled his hands in Joey’s hair.
He increased his efforts until Logan’s body suddenly stiffened. The cock in his mouth went rock hard, swelling just a bit then hot cream exploded into Joey’s mouth.
Joey swallowed down as fast as he could, licking and stroking with his tongue. Even when Logan was done, Joey refused to release the cock in his mouth. He just continued to love on Logan.
“Joey! Someone’s coming,” Logan cried out. “You need to come out from under the desk.”
Joey shook his head. He wasn’t about to release his toy. He scooted back under Logan’s desk. Grabbing the edge of Logan’s chair, he pulled it forward until both he and Logan’s lower body were hidden inside the knee hole.

Stormy Glenn - Fanning the Flames of Erotic Romance

Monday, July 27, 2009

Diamond in the Shade by D.J. MANLY

Diamond is a Destroyer. Bred for killing vampires, that all he’s ever known.
When his trainer tells him he’s needed in the United States, Diamond is
prepard to go. What he isn’t prepared for is Sebastian Shade, a vampire who
fights evil in New York City.

Sebastian Shade is facing a new kind of evil, a vampire who’s also a witch,
planning to bring Los Angeles to it’s knees. He doesn’t have time to fight off a
Destroyer. He’s busy trying to figure out how to defeat the witch who is
recruiting vampires, and snatching babies for blood sacrifices.

When Diamond meets Sebastian, he does what comes naturally, he tries to kill
him. Sebastian Shade however is like nothing he’s ever seen before, not only
gorgeous, he’s a far cry from the vampires Diamond is used to hunting in the
Transylvanian cemeteries. And then he discovers that not only is Shade, the
vampire who corrupted one of the greatest Destroyers of all times, he might be

Friday, July 17, 2009


By Auburnimp

In Tairanna everyone must choose a side.

Eisso is a warlock punished by his coven for accidentally killing a demon child. Danth is a wereleopard ostracised by his sister and her mate when he becomes something more. Together they must face their destiny or be swallowed by a war between good and evil.

"Stop that," Danth said, "I've decided that I'm not going to kill you after all." His voice turned husky. "I've had a better idea."

He wanted to ask what idea but Danth's mouth was on his and he couldn't think let alone speak. Soft lips pressed against his and he parted his own with a quiet sigh. A warm tongue darted in to trace the outline of his lips before delving into his mouth to duel with his own.

Strong hands ran down his sides and back up again while his hands came off the bed and settled around Danth's neck.

Danth broke off the kiss to gaze down at him, golden eyes just visible in the dawn light. Outside screams still ripped through the early morning mist. "You hear that? That's the sound of your coven dying when it should be you."

"So why am I still breathing?"

"Why? Because something greater than either of us wants you alive. But there is a price to pay, little human. No witch can be allowed to leave here alive so I am going to have to change you."

"I'm to become a wereleopard?"

"If you survive," Danth said. "Many don't. Close your eyes, Eisso, and keep them closed until its over."

Trembling like a flower in the wind, he closed his eyes. Danth pushed Eisso's arms down so they were no longer around the wereleopard's neck. He pushed Eisso's hands close to the brass headboard and bound them there with something soft.

Danth moved away and Eisso tried desperately to hear where he had gone. He could smell Danth's musky scent and somehow he found it soothing. "Please…" he whispered although he wasn't sure why.

"Hush," Danth said before his lips closed on a nipple. Eisso couldn't help it. He arched into the caress, his eagerness for the touch overcoming his sense.

A low rumble like a purr and Danth moved to the other nipple, blowing cool air across sensitised skin.

Eisso arched even more wanting things that had no name known to him. He groaned feeling his cock spring to life as Danth's clever mouth moved lower, leaving wet trails down his body.

Enter the Shadows... Set your imagination on Fire


By Michael Barnette

A mission gone wrong, three hot men, loyalty, passion and love.

When a dangerous mission to destroy a Red Lotus cartel drug lab and capture the scientist making the Euphoria fails it brings Lei, Quinn and Sanjuro in a head to head shoot out with the cartel's gun wielding goons.

The three operatives do their best to escape, but the mission goes from bad to deadly when one of them is shot. Now it's a race to save their lover's life, and reach the pickup zone before the man they can't live without dies.

Sanjuro claimed his lips in a kiss that left him breathless, his cock hard and throbbing.

Lei was picked up and carried to the large bed they shared, Quinn cradling him, kissing him while Sanjuro hurried ahead.

The pair of men slowly stripped away Lei's clothing, kissing him, caressing every inch of his skin until he thought he'd go mad with need, his body worshipped, adored, his mind consumed with the fire of lust.

Quinn's powerful form held him gently, Sanjuro's sleek body pressing tight to him, the two demonstrating their devotion with every gentle touch, each nip of their teeth, the maddening slide of their tongues over his skin, the pressure of lips finding all the right places. Places that inflamed his need, fanning it to heights greater than any he'd ever known in the past. Whirling him upward on a spiraling column of desire that drove reason from his mind, erased all thought leaving him in a rolling sea of passion that threatened to overwhelm him.

Like a drowning man he reached, clung to the solid stability of Quinn's shoulders, gasping, grasping onto both of them, fingers tangling in Sanjuro's hair, seeking some measure of control, and finding none.

"Please, I want--" Lips closed over his, silencing his plea. Hands, big, powerful hands gripped his wrists and pinned them to the bed above his head as a smaller hand closed around his cock. He cried out as the tip of a delicate tongue touched the slit of his erection, tasting him. The tongue moved over the sensitive flesh, lapping up what it found there. The touch of the damp tongue was like a blazing brand burning down his shaft, turning to molten fire in his balls.

So close to losing it. Surrendering to the heat building inside him. Searing him.

He gasped into the mouth covering his, felt the rumble of Quinn's chuckle as their tongues danced. Lei helpless in their grasp for the first time.

Click the link to buy:

Shadowfire Press: Enter the Shadows... Set your imagination on Fire

Shadowfire Cafe:

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


By G.A. Hauser

Prince of Servitude takes place in a mythical kingdom where a beautiful prince named Tristen finds he is attracted to his best friend Dinas. Unfortunately in the land of Brandywine men having sex with other men is illegal. Not only does Tristen love men, he loves to be bound and helpless during the act. Tristen lets go his inhibitions when he is held captive by an enemy army.

Can his beloved Dinas save Tristen from being held prisoner, preventing Tristen from inheriting the throne? Or will the sexual freedom Tristen has discovered stop him from living his legacy. Through love and loyalty Tristen just might find he can have his crown and his true love as well.

This novel is a ‘fractured’ fairy tale, yet it echoes the reality of our own country’s inequality of laws regarding same sex couples from state to state. There is an intentional underlying irony to this work of fiction.

Sample chapter for Prince of Servitude:

For hours Tristen aimed his spear, hitting the target each time.
After all the other young men had finished practice and drifted off, Dinas sat on the lush grass as Tristen threw again and again a spear at a target, his servant weary of retrieving.
When Tristen’s muscles burned and ached and he was glistening with sweat, he finally sent his servant away. He collapsed next to Dinas.
“Why do you torture yourself? You are by far the best and still you hammer away at your target. Give it a rest.” Dinas exhaled in exasperation.
Tristen placed his hands behind his head and watched the passing clouds. “Dear Dinas...” He caught his breath. “Why do you think I am the best?” Tristen gave him a mischievous glance.
“Because you are Tristen.” Dinas shoved him playfully.
Tristen shook his head, laughing.
Dinas chewed a blade of grass, his eyes glazed as if in contemplation. Finally he rolled to his side and said, “There are rumors of war. They say that small bands of men are raiding livestock on the Westland border.”
“I know.”
“Have you consulted your father? What have you heard?” Dinas slid closer to him.
“No, Father has not sent for me in weeks. I cannot think why not. I hear they are planning on riding to the palace at Westland to consult with King Ator.”
“That is where your betrothed is.” Dinas propped up his head.
Tristen groaned. “That is why I need to go.” He moved to his side, mirroring his friend. “I suppose I need to see her, Dinas.” Tristen loosened the strap at his hip that held his leather crotch pouch in place. His legs were brown and the light blond hair sparkled on them like flecks of gold. He noticed Dinas’ attention was distracted to his actions.
“I know you are tired of the rumors. I tell you she is beautiful.”
“You know? You know nothing, you rascal.” Tristen jumped on Dinas and crushed him to the ground, loving their naked sweaty skin gliding together.
Giving a grunt of surprise, Dinas gazed up at him.
“I wish you did know. I would sleep easier.” Tristen drew close to Dinas’ lips. As his cock grew hard, Tristen pushed it against his friend’s. The urge to grind them together was overpowering.
Dinas gaped at him, his brown eyes connected to Tristen’s as if he were in a trance.
“My beautiful Prince, your tanned skin makes your light eyes glow like the blue sky above.” Dinas panted, his chest heaving. “And your hair? My love, pure gold, so thick and long, and filled with soft waves and golden highlights.”
After taking a peek around, Tristen slid off him reluctantly, keeping his leg across Dinas’ crotch and thighs, feeling where Dinas had grown as hard as he was under the leather crotch-piece.
Dinas reached down to hold the Prince’s leg in place. “Tristen, look at you. You are the fairest Prince in all the land and you think your father will wed you to a hag.”
Tristen was in agony for him. He did not wish to speak of an arranged marriage to an unknown female. He peered down at Dinas’ hand as it caressed his leg from his knee to his hip. Tristen enjoyed the touch so much, he lay on Dinas’ chest again. “Do you think I’m fair?”
Dinas’ breath caught in his throat. Tristen could feel his friend’s heart pounding ferociously under his ribs and Dinas’ cock began throbbing under Tristen’s leg. Tristen studied Dinas’ features; his perfect skin, perfect nose, perfect chin, those magical brown eyes and that thick wonderful head of chocolate brown hair.
Tristen waited for his answer, his lips softening to a pout.
“No, not fair...” Dinas replied.
Tristen was terribly disappointed.
“Fair hardly describes someone so blessed with beauty, Tristen.”
Tristen found his eyes again. “I need you to be honest with me, Dinas. Do not fool with me.”
Dinas raised his hand from Tristen’s bronze leg to caress his cheek. “Is it that important to you to be desirable?”
“Mother seems to think so. She does go on about it.”
“But what of me? If I thought looks were everything, I would throw myself off the ravine.” He laughed.
Tristen grabbed him by both shoulders. “No, Dinas, you are extremely handsome.”
Dinas choked.“I was only jesting.”
Feeling like a fool, Tristen blushed and lowered his lashes. “Oh. Yes, of course.”
“You think I am ‘extremely handsome’?” he asked softly.
The throbbing between both their legs was a torment and a humiliation, but something Tristen knew they could not control. Tristen became very serious. After raising his head to their surroundings to be certain no one was left in the area, he glimpsed up at the high windows for a sign of his mother. They were vacant.
Dinas watched him with unmatched intensity.
Tristen arranged his body so it rubbed against Dinas in the right places. “Yes, I think you are very handsome.” Tristen was going mad for him. He didn’t know how much more he could take of holding back his desires. He brought his lips closer to Dinas’.
Dinas’ body tensed and it seemed he could no longer swallow down his parched throat. “A kiss? To seal our friendship?”
Tristen smiled. “Yes. A kiss.”
When their lips met Dinas whimpered out loud.
Tristen closed his eyes and slipped his tongue into Dinas’ mouth, thinking someone had set fire to the grass he was so hot. He ground his pelvis against Dinas’ feeling a yearning to come so intense Tristen knew he would. There was no way to prevent the attraction he felt for his best friend. But in Brandywine, these acts were illegal and punished severely.

The GA Hauser Collection

Available in Print at - Prince of Servitude

Tuesday, July 7, 2009



Thirty years after his father, the High Ruler of Katzman, was murdered, Commander Chellak Rai has finally returned to reclaim his birthright. What he finds is more than he expected or could ever have hoped for.

Demyan is a bruter, one of the rare and exotic people of the planet Elquone. He is also a slave. And according to his contract, if he does not have a master, he must be returned to the cruel hands of Vortigern Vedek, the man that killed Chellak's father and stole his throne.

For Chellak, it is a double-edged sword. He knows the moment he meets Demyan that the sexy little man is his destined mate, but the laws of his planet state that he can not own a slave. To keep Demyan, he must defy his own laws and beliefs. But keeping Demyan is not as easy as winning his heart.

"The Katzman's Mate is another strong story by Stormy Glenn and one I highly recommend. 5 Stars" --Rainbow Reviews.
"Ms. Glen has written a magical tale that will have you smiling through your tears while you want to teach the big macho alpha a lesson in listening. 5 Cups" --Coffee Time Romance.
"Not only has she given us a book with two worthy protagonists, but a solid plot that lends itself to future book. 4.5 Blue Ribbons" --Romance Junkies.
"Ms. Glenn has created an intricate and fascinating story in a futuristic world with unique and compelling characters. 5 Angels" --Fallen Angel Reviews.



For more on this book, to read reviews or excerpts, visit my website at


By Amanda Young

Disowned and cast out of his home, eighteen year old Declan Mayo turns to the only thing he can think of to help him get back on his feet. Working at the Chicken Ranch, a rural brothel that caters to women and gay men, seems like the perfect solution. He isn’t about to let a lack of sexual experience stop him from taking what he sees as a way off the streets.

Falling in love with one of his clients wasn’t in the game plan, but Declan can’t seem to help himself. Killian Hamilton is sweet and kind, with a stutter Declan can’t help but find adorable. Surely, if anyone could overlook Declan’s choice of employment, it would be a kindhearted man like Killian.

But Declan didn't figure on Killian’s connection to one of the brothel’s regular clients, and now his love life's about to blow up in his face.


Without money for a cab or the gonads to hitchhike, what should have been a fifteen-minute drive to the countryside took Declan Mayo almost two hours by foot. A light mist of rain began long before he made it to the muddy driveway leading up to Chicken Ranch. His head and shoulders felt more damp than wet, but his sneakers squished with water thanks to all the puddles he’d stepped in along the way.
The sign above the entrance wasn’t huge or well lit, as he’d half expected from an establishment of ill repute. It looked much like any other discreet title carved into a wooden placard above the many ranches and farms in the area. No one would give it a second look, which he supposed was kind of the point. Keeping things low-key would be essential to any illicit business.
With a ragged sigh, he started up the darkened lane. Every step made the blisters on his heels burn like fire from where his shoes had rubbed his skin raw. As much as he would’ve liked to turn around and run in the opposite direction, he didn’t have many options. Pride didn’t make him any less homeless or fill the empty ache of a stomach that had gone too long without sustenance. Going back the way he’d come would only mean another long night on a hard park bench, worrying about whether he’d be accosted in his sleep or arrested for something he couldn’t help.
By the time he shuffled half a mile to the large colonial house, Declan was beginning to think the hustler who’d clued him in to the existence of a local, all-male brothel had been yanking his chain. Granted, prostitution was illegal in much of the country, but surely someone who operated a thriving, modern-day whorehouse would have the money to pave their driveway.
Dread crept up his spine and settled at the base of his skull as he climbed the steps and warily approached the front door. Although interior lights were on, assuring him he wouldn’t actually wake anyone up, he was a little afraid to knock. God only knew what he would discover once he did.
Would someone answer the door with a shotgun and accuse him of trespassing on private property? Better yet, maybe this was all a setup, and he’d find himself kidnapped and sold into a ring of slavers looking for fresh meat.
His stomach gurgled, too empty to work up a full growl, and reminded him why he was there. Good or bad, there was only one way to find out what fate had in store for him. Declan steeled his courage and rang the doorbell.
“State your business.”
Declan jumped and glanced around, only then noticing the small voice box located on the door frame. He pressed the Talk button and leaned in close, not sure how good the little box’s range was. “I, ah…” Fuck. What the hell am I supposed to say? “I’m here to inquire about a job.”
The door buzzed and swung open, revealing a young man with bouncy chestnut curls and big brown eyes that reminded Declan of the heifers on his old friend Brody’s farm. He wore a prim white dress shirt, buttoned up to the stiff collar, and pressed beige slacks -- not exactly the kind of attire Declan thought of as a whore’s ensemble.
“So,” the man said, looking Declan up and down. “You’d like a job, huh?”
“I, uh…I guess so.”
“You guess?” The brunet snorted and stepped aside. “Come on in. My name’s Colt. You’ll have to speak with Mr. Graves about a position, but he’s always on the lookout for new boys.”
Declan stepped inside and gawked, feeling out of his element. His family wasn’t poor, but being middle-class did not provide crystal chandeliers. Not that his family was providing him with much of anything other than scorn these days.
Directly in front of him were two impressive curved staircases that led to the second floor. A hallway disappeared behind each set of stairs. Spacious sitting rooms were located to his left and right. As he looked on, a buff, bare-chested guy dressed in black leather chaps, sans anything underneath, jogged down the stairs and disappeared into the sitting room on the left.
All the saliva in Declan’s mouth dried up. His gaze strayed to the doorway, hoping the practically naked man would appear over the threshold and let him take a long gander at the goodies he was sporting.
The door closed with a bang behind him, making him jump and jerk around. His face heated as the other man -- Colt -- shot him curious look.
Colt smirked, drawing attention to his firm lips. “You’re a jittery little thing, aren’t you?”
Declan shrugged. “No, sir. Well, not usually.”
“You don’t need to call me ‘sir.’ We’re all working stiffs around here.”
“Oh. Are you, um, are you a…?” Declan let his question trail off, unsure of what title he was supposed to give the prostitutes. They would undoubtedly take offense to being called whores.
“I’m not a rent boy, if that’s what you mean. I assist Mr. Graves. You know, you’re lucky it’s a Monday, otherwise the boss would be too busy to see you without an appointment.”
“Well, I, um, appreciate that.” Declan winced. He sounded like a complete moron. The owner -- was there a male term for madam? -- would probably take one look at him, think he was simpleminded, and send him packing.
“Mm hmm,” Colt said, turning his back on Declan. “Follow me, please.”
Declan trailed after the other man, down the hallway to the right of the stairs. Colt stopped at the first door and knocked lightly. A deep male voice called out for them to enter.
Colt opened the door and waved for Declan to go in ahead of him. “In you go.”
Declan stepped over the threshold, quickly taking in the tidy office before his gaze zeroed in on the man behind the desk.
“This guy --” Colt glanced at Declan, waiting.
It took Declan a second to figure out what the man wanted. “Oh. Um, my name’s Declan. Declan Mayo.”
“Right. Declan is here about a job.” Colt backed out of the room and closed the door. The tiny click of the latch catching sounded like a gunshot to Declan.
“Have a seat, Declan.” The raven-haired man behind the desk motioned toward the chair in front of Declan and then folded his arms across the impressive width of his chest. A charcoal gray sports coat pulled taut across the shoulders, while a white, scoop-neck shirt drew attention to the bronzed skin at his throat. The overhead light caught the slight traces of silver at the man’s temples and made the individual hairs shine like strands of the finest silk.
Declan sat on the edge of the seat, his back protesting. Used to slouching, the ramrod-straight posture felt unnatural. As unobtrusively as possible, he stared at the older man and waited for him to speak first.
“What kind of work are you looking for, son?”
“I, uh…” Why is this so hard? If I can’t say it aloud, I sure as hell won’t be able to actually do it. “I want to…” Declan inhaled and let everything out in one long rush of air. “Iwanttohavesexformoney.”

Amanda Young - Romance Without Inhabition

Monday, July 6, 2009


It's Time to Meet and Chat with
Our Favorite Author JAXX STEELE

Jaxx Steele will be chatting at the REC on
Sunday July 19, 2009 at 7:30 p.m

Come and hear what's going on in Jaxx's world, his upcoming books and excerpts!

Friday, July 3, 2009


By Katica Locke

An impulsive werecat sparks a twisted game of cat and mouse he may not survive.
Huntsmen kill Werefolk--it's what they're trained to do. Kae, a young and impetuous werecat, knows this, but it doesn't stop him from following one surly Huntsman into the bathroom of a nightclub.
One spontaneous, not completely unwanted sexual encounter later, he's running for his life, pursued by a Huntsman bent on murder...or is it simply revenge? Or is it something else entirely?
Hands clenched into fists, he starts to rise, but I grab him by the back of the shirt and shove him off balance, his pants tangled around his ankles. He falls against the stall wall and I twist one arm up behind his back, pinning him there. For a moment, the only sounds are the throbbing music and our ragged breathing.

"Well?" he says finally. "Go on then, kill me. Won't your furry friends be impressed--the big bad wolf caught a retired Huntsman in the toilet with his pants down."

"Shut up," I say, shoving him harder against the poorly painted wood. "I didn't think Huntsmen retired," I add, leaning against him as I dig into my pocket.
"Shows what you know," he says through his teeth. "Now what the fuck are you doing?"

I smirk to myself as I open the little tube of lubricant, warmed by my body heat and slick on my fingers.

"You," I say, reaching down and pushing a single slippery finger into his ass. He jumps like he's been shot, a surprised cry escaping between his clenched teeth, and tries to pull away from me. "Just relax, old man," I say, adding a second finger.. "I don't get off on hurting people."

"You fuck--I'm gonna--son-of-a-bitch, stop it--I'm gonna kill you," he hisses, rattling the entire set of stalls as he twists and bucks, trying to throw me off.

"Don't try to tell me you don't want it," I say, taking my fingers out of him and reaching around to grasp his still hard cock. He gasps, his whole body going rigid, as I let my hand slide along his shaft. "If you weren't such a bigot, this would be deep in my ass right now." His cock twitches in my hand and I let go of it, freeing my own growing erection instead. I slick the remaining lube across the head and then position myself at his entrance. He makes a strangled sound as I slide inside, several short thrusts burying my cock up to the hilt.
Katica Locke
By Jaxx Steele

Dominick “Papa” Pappas was a handsome, young photography teacher at Indiana University given to impulsive behavior and an overwhelming passion for his craft. Professor Bradley Louis taught philosophy at the college and had the reputation of being the sternest and most unsocial of all the teachers on campus.

When Papa first laid eyes on Professor Louis it was love at first sight. Professor Louis was handsome, intelligent and twenty years his senior. Papa approached him, but the professor turned away from his advances claiming they had nothing in common and belonged to two different generations. Because of that he didn’t think they had a chance to survive as a couple. Can Papa convince him of otherwise or will Professor Louis’ theory on May-November relationships prevail?

Jaxx Steele Putting a little XX in Man Love!


By Jaxx Steele

Coming soon to Red Rose Publishing

Soren Cannon and his best friend Mercedes are die hard Rocko fans. They have the opportunity to follow him all summer as he toured the neighboring states. At each one of the concerts Soren found that it was easy to be seduced when the beautiful, soulful music of Rocko provided the back drop.

Jaxx Steele Putting a little XX in Man Love!


By Jaxx Steele

Coming to Phaze- Urban Metropolitan series- August, 2009

Khristopher Knight was a professional motorcycle rider. It was the greatest day of his life when he qualified for that inaugural race at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway until he realized he had no one to share it with.

Artis Kent had not seen Kris since they were in college together. The race at the Speedway was the first in 100 years. With his ticket he would have the chance to meet the riders and maybe open the lines of communication again.

When Kris and Artis met up again, Artis had no idea that his world would soar to the heavens, crash to the dephs of hell and then soar to the sky once more all in the span of 30 days. Can Artis's calm laid back life handle a love affair with the fast paced Kristopher Knight? Or will there be too many crash and burns for Artis to handle?

Jaxx Steele Putting a little XX in Man Love!


By Jaxx Steele

Faced with the consequences of one careless night, Russell Drake left his lover, James, to marry a woman he barely knew. It certainly wasn't what he planned, but one look at his son's tiny face convinced him that he'd do whatever was necessary to make his child happy… even if it cost him his own happiness.
But fate has something else in mind for him, and an unforeseen accident once again sets off a cascade of change. Three years later, Russell no longer has to settle and exist for his son's sake. He has the chance to rediscover the life he'd wanted with James.

5 ANGELS "Mr. Steele has created a wonderful short story about the price of parenthood and second chances. Russell is a wonderful character who was willing to give up everything, even the love of his life, for the child he never thought he would have. Russell's family is the way family are supposed to be, loving and accepting. If more people were like that, the world would be a better place. I loved how James never gave up on his man even after everything that happened." - Fallen Angel Reviews

4 STARS "Jaxx Steele wrote a wonderful angst ridden story, while still clinging to the notion of love must conquer all. The concept of hope clings to everything throughout this book, and it's more than enough to keep one glued to the pages." -
Rainbow Reviews

Jaxx Steele Putting a little XX in Man Love!

Wednesday, July 1, 2009


By Angel Martinez

Sanity is relative and the world has room for more than one truth.

When Diego rescues a naked man from the rail of the Brooklyn Bridge, he just wants to get the poor man out of traffic and over to social services. He gets more than he bargained for when Finn turns out to be an ailing pooka, poisoned by the pollution of the city. To help him recover, Diego takes him north to New Brunswick where Finn inadvertently wakes an ancient, evil spirit, the wendigo.

While Diego and Finn struggle to find a way to destroy the wendigo before it can possess Diego or kill nearby innocents, Diego wrestles with his growing passion for Finn. Can they succeed in destroying the monster and in navigating a relationship between a modern man and a centuries-old fairy?

The figure crouched on the bridge shocked Diego so thoroughly he drove a hundred yards before he realized what he had seen.

A man squatted on his heels on the rail, one hand on a cable, the other clutching a ragged blanket at his throat. Threadbare cloth flapped around bare ankles. The persistent wind yanked it this way and that to show flashes of naked legs.“Holy shit,” Diego muttered, as he wrestled his ancient Toyota into the nearest side street to park. This was none of his business. Didn’t he have enough problems? Even as he argued with himself he ran, dodging traffic and ignoring angry epithets as he pelted back up the bridge against traffic. The inevitable gaper delay had slowed the flow at least, making his precarious journey easier.
People stared from the safety of their vehicles as they inched along, but no one stopped to help.
Diego ignored them. His primary concern was not to startle the man into falling. He slowed his approach, ready to offer soothing words, but the man heard his footsteps. Long black hair whipped and snaked in the wind, hiding his face, though Diego caught a glimpse of bared teeth.
“Did you come after me?” the jumper snarled. “I won’t go back.”

“Go back where?” Diego seized the opportunity to start the man talking.

The jumper shook his head to clear the hair from his eyes and peered at Diego with black eyes – not dark brown, but black, set in deep, shadowed sockets. “No, I suppose you don’t look like one of those,” he said in a softly accented, weary voice.

“One of who?” Diego edged closer to stand next to him.

“The ones who shut me in the iron cage. I changed. I escaped.” His words seemed to stick in his throat and even above the traffic, Diego heard him swallow hard. “But now I’m too tired. I can’t...and the river is so filthy. I think it might kill me.”

At least he doesn’t sound like he wants to die. “Look, if you don’t want the police catching up to you, or the hospital staff, or whoever it is, this is about the worst thing you could do. You’re upsetting all these people and attracting a lot of attention. They’ll be here any minute.” Diego reached out a hand, palm up. “Please come down. Let’s get you safe and out of the wind. Then we’ll see about straightening all this out.”

The man regarded him through the shifting curtain of hair for a long moment. “What are you called?”

Depends who you talk to. “My name is Diego. Diego Sandoval.” He lurched forward, his stomach plummeting to his feet, when the man swayed, but the jumper retained his place on the rail.

The man repeated his name a few times as if trying it out, and then nodded. “It’s a good name. Pleasurable to say.”

“And you?”

“I am called Fionnachd.”

Diego tried to repeat it and won a hint of a smile from the man when he mangled the pronunciation. “Could I call you Finn?”

That got a shrug. The blanket fell back from his shoulder to reveal all-too-prominent bones. “You could. Some have. I don’t mind.”

“Climb down, Finn,” Diego urged again. “I’ll help you. Let’s get you somewhere quiet where you can rest.”

Finn took his fingers in a light grip and Diego caught a whiff of rotten orange rinds as he slid from the rail.

What the hell am I doing? He could have Hepatitis or HIV or tuberculosis, or worse. He’s probably crazy. Maybe even dangerous.

The intense plea in those black-on-black eyes silenced his practical objections. Lost and alone, this man needed someone. Diego had never been good at walking away.

Angel Martinez - Erotic Fiction for the Hungry Mind
Finn - July 2, 2009 from Red Rose Publishing
Lioness on the Knife and Aftermath - Coming Soon from Red Rose Publishing
Erotic Spice - the ongoing story blog