Wednesday, February 22, 2012

LAUREL HEIGHTS by Lisa Worrall

Coming March 3,2012

Detectives Scott Turner and Will Harrison are sent undercover after an apparent murder/suicide in Laurel Heights, an exclusive gay housing community. Will the two closeted officers be able to hide their attraction while each believing the other is straight? And is there a killer amongst them waiting to claim his next victim?



The gated housing development of Laurel Heights was quiet in the early hours.

The houses were dark and their occupants asleep.

Nobody heard the muffled shot that rang out into the still of the night.

A shot, quickly followed by another.

Shots that left two members of their exclusive community dead.

* * * *

"Where are you going? It's two in the morning."

Will pulled his T-shirt back on and raked his fingers through his blond hair. "Early start tomorrow," he said picking up his wallet and his cell. Checking he'd not received any messages while he was otherwise engaged he shoved them both into his pocket, and sat on the edge of the bed to slip his feet into his boots. Will closed his eyes at the feel of soft lips feathering across the nape of his neck, warm breath lifting the strands of his short hair where it sat against his skin, and sighed. He hated this part, the leaving. Especially when the sex had been good, which it had. Ignoring the insistent pulling of impatient fingers at his shirt, he laced his boots and stood up.

"Do you want my number?"

"Sure," Will replied, taking out his cell. He moved his fingers over the pad and pretended to put the number recited to him into his contacts. He wasn't sure why they were going through this charade. The man staring up at him wasn't fooled by Will's actions, yet he continued to reel off the numbers. Pushing his cell back into his pocket, Will leaned down, ran a quick hand through curly blond hair, and kissed the offered lips. He pulled back before it could become anything more and crossed the room. Pausing in the doorway he raised a hand, scrabbling desperately for the guy's name and failing, so throwing a lame goodbye over his shoulder instead. At least he had the decency to blush slightly when the cold reply followed him out into the hall.

"It's Jack, asshole."

* * * *

Scott threw his head back, lost on a sea of sensation as he pounded relentlessly into the willing body beneath him. "Fuck, /yes,/" he cried out when the heat around him tightened and he lost it. His orgasm pulsed through him and he thrust mindlessly, chasing the last of his pleasure. When his breathing had calmed enough to move, he grabbed the end of the condom and pulled out then turned to flush it down the toilet beside them. Club bathrooms were never exactly the easiest places to have sex in, but eyes across a crowded room and all that. Tucking himself back into his pants, Scott gasped as hands grabbed his face and turned him around into a searing kiss.

"My place?" The grey eyes gazing into his were hopeful.

Scott shook his head, his lips curving into a regretful smile. "I'm sorry, I have an early meeting," he replied, softening the dismissal with a kiss. "But I had fun; maybe we can do it again some time."

"Ah, so you're one of those guys who gets his rocks off and then isn't interested, huh?" The other man's tone was angry, as he glared up at Scott.

Scott's eyes hardened and he pulled himself up to his full height of almost six feet before unlocking the door of the stall. "I'm never interested in some twink who'll let me fuck him before I've even asked his name." Ignoring the stunned look on the other man's face, Scott walked out into the crowded bathroom, and kicked the stall door closed behind him. After quickly washing his hands, he ran his fingers through his short, black, sweat-dampened hair, and then made his way back out into the club.

Surrounded by a sea of writhing bodies, Scott looked at the illuminated hands of his watch and yawned when he saw that it was two in the morning. Lowering his head to avoid anyone mistaking a glance for a come on, he began to push his way through the throng toward the exit. Even though the guy in the bathroom had thought he was being blown off, he really did have an early start tomorrow. Outside in the cold New York air, he hailed the first cab he saw and clambered into the back.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Always Hope by Lisa Worrall


* *

Ash Watts has his life exactly how he wants it: burgeoning career, gorgeous boyfriend, and an apartment with a fabulous view of LA. But his perfect world comes crashing down around his ears when he learns of his only sister's untimely death. A small town isn't all he finds when he lands in Freedom, Alabama for Annie's funeral. This small town is brimming with secrets; secrets that could change Ash's life forever.

Kaleb Gibson, honest-to-God cowboy, and native of Freedom, born and bred, found his best friend the moment Annie Watts breezed into town. Her death left a gaping hole in his heart, and while Annie's brother may have her same dark hair and green eyes, Kaleb refuses to lose his heart all over again, and he can’t forgive the man for neglecting his sister when she needed him most.

Revelations from Annie's Will throw Kaleb and Ash together in ways they never imagined. Will Kaleb be able to carry out Annie’s last wishes without killing her beloved brother and without revealing a secret from his own past that could destroy everything? And will Ash stick around long enough to see that Freedom may hold an even more perfect life than he could have imagined?



The clock on the dashboard indicated it was almost four and the California sun was high in the sky when Mason pulled into the underground parking lot of Ash’s condo. Their arms full of backpacks and camping paraphernalia, the two men rode the elevator up to the fifteenth floor and then walked down the hall to Ash’s apartment. Inside, they dumped everything in the hall and Ash headed to the kitchen in search of beer before they attempted anything else. Mason had already made himself comfortable on the sofa, his legs over the arm as he flicked through his blackberry and checked the myriad of messages, from clients and colleagues alike, he’d received while they’d been away.

“Here you go, hot stuff,” Ash drawled, flopping down on the cushion Mason wasn’t occupying and let his fingers drift through the soft strands of Mason’s strawberry blond hair. “Jesus, couldn’t those rich bitches survive without you?” he asked, noting the number of messages his boyfriend still scrolled through.

“You said it yourself,” Mason grinned, tilting his head to look at Ash, “hot stuff, in demand.”

“Oh, right.” Ash shook his head and said sarcastically, “Must be such a curse.”

“I’m glad to see you’re noticing all the sacrifices I make,” Mason countered, then swore loudly. “Listen to this. Marianne Wheatley, you know she’s on that long running soap thing, I don’t even remember what it’s called, piece of crap is so dire—anyway, she needs me to call desperately because her ex took the dog for the weekend as per their agreement and he failed to return him. Fucking thing’s a cocker-poo for God’s sake, not a kid.” Tossing his blackberry onto the soft carpet, he shifted so that his head rested on Ash’s lap. “Remind me why I deal with these people?”

Ash smoothed his fingers over the frown Mason was now sporting and smiled softly. “Because they pay you ridiculous amounts of money so that you can keep me in a manner I am totally unaccustomed to,” he said without missing a beat, leaning down to capture his lover’s lips.

“Oh yeah,” Mason replied, “I knew there was a good reason.”

Ash kissed him again and sighed into the kiss as Mason’s tongue teased along the seam of his lips, and Ash gladly opened to him, licking his way into Mason’s mouth, chasing his tongue back into its dark cavern. He slid a hand beneath the hem of the other man’s T-shirt and his gut tightened at the low growl coming from Mason’s throat. Sliding his hand higher, his fingers found the flat disc of Mason’s nipple and pinched the sensitive flesh between a thumb and forefinger.


He didn’t find out what else Mason had planned to say, because of the loud banging at the front door. “Come /on/,” Ash complained with a whine. “We’re still on vacation until tomorrow, for crying out loud.”

With a rueful smile, Mason pressed a quick kiss to Ash’s lips and pushed himself up, “I’ll go, you stay there and look as sexy as hell.”

A few moments later, the front door closed and Mason’s bare feet slapped on the wooden flooring of the hallway as he returned to the living-room. Ash waited with his eyes closed and his head tipped back on the sofa cushion, a smile playing around his mouth. “Come on, hot stuff. I’m waiting,” he said in a parody of a come hither tone.


The way Mason said his name gave Ash the immediate feeling that he shouldn’t open his eyes. Every fiber of his being told him not to move. Whatever had caused Mason to sound like that couldn’t be good.

“Ashdon Watts?”

Ash didn’t recognize the second voice and he forced his eyes open, a fist tightening around his heart as he gazed up into the far too sympathetic gaze of an LA cop. He swallowed past the lump in his throat which may well have been his heart, he wasn’t sure. Ash nodded, unable to vocalize a response—/this is bad, this is very bad. /The way Mason sank onto the cushion beside him and gripped his hand tightly, wasn’t helping.

“I’m sorry, Mr Watts. I have some difficult news. There’s been an accident.”

Lane and the Lycans by Gale Stanley

Lane and the Lycans

Symbiotic Mates: 6

A MMM Paranormal Romance

Coming March 10, 2012

The Kindred are planning an attack on the Lycans, and Lane’s vampire-hawk lover sends him to Arcadia to spy on the wolf-shifters. Things go horribly wrong--Lane lands in the middle of two bear cubs and Mama is out for blood. When two wolves come to his rescue, Lane is sure he’ll end up as wolf kibble. But one of the Lycans is a do-gooder wildlife enthusiast and he’s determined to keep the injured lynx safe. Once inside the Lycans' cabin.. and bed… Lane begins to realize that friend and enemy cannot be identified solely on the basis of fur or feathers, and his only hope for happiness lies in an alliance with one he thought was his mortal enemy.

Available for pre-order at Silver Publishing:


This evening promised to be another boring night guarding the perimeter of Arcadia City. Other than the scrabbling of animals in the underbrush and leaves rustling in the trees, he hadn't heard any unusual sounds, and apart from the spray of a distant skunk, and a whiff of something too faint to identify, his sensitive nose detected nothing unusual. A light wind blew up, bringing a more palatable perfume to his nostrils. Nicky. His lover was stationed only a quarter of a mile away and the man's scent was a powerful distraction.

Doug couldn't think of anyone less suited to guard duty than Nicky, whose day job was teaching. But with so few pups in the pack, Nicky had lots of free time on his hands and Rafe had added guard dog to his duties. Besides being highly intelligent, Nicky had a sweet nature and always gave the other guy the benefit of the doubt. He was a lover, not a fighter, and Doug was angry at their Alpha for forcing Nicky to do a job better suited to a more aggressive wolf. He'd said as much, but Rafe shot him down. His only concern was getting as many paws on the ground as possible. The Alpha's only concession to Doug's protests was to post him and Nicky close to each other, so Doug could jump in if Nicky needed help. And Doug would. He'd kill anyone who laid a hand on his lover.

Sometimes Doug wondered what the slim, brown-haired wolf saw in him. Perhaps it was true that opposites attract, because he and Nicky were solid. They still had their own homes, but it was enough that Nicky loved him. At least he hoped Nicky loved him. No one had brought up the "L" word, not yet anyway, but neither one of them had been with anyone else since their first night together.

Just thinking about Nicky made him horny. All his blood flowed from one head to the other, and he wondered if his lover was feeling as randy as he was. Ever since Rafe had gotten anal with the sentry schedules, Doug and Nicky hardly had a minute alone. He looked around and lifted his nose to the sky. Not a sign or a scent of trouble. Fuck—

That sniff of danger he'd scented earlier was a hell of a lot closer. Bear? And headed straight toward Nicky. Fear for his lover's safety whipped his wolf into an adrenaline fueled frenzy. Fear was a luxury he couldn't afford. He buried it and let his fury propel him forward. Shifting in midair, he landed on the run, four big hairy paws pounding the earth in a mad dash to rescue what was his.

Happy Reading!


Sunday, February 19, 2012

Vampire Wanted by Amber Kell

Buy link


When Nick unwittingly picks up a vampire for his one-night fling, little does he know Damian has no plans of ever letting him go. Now with an overprotective lover, Nick has to find a way to save his friend from a young vampire holding a grudge.


I met him at a bar. He was every cliché come to life. Tall, dark, handsome, and he looked at me like I was the one he'd waited for all his life. If I hadn't been so damn lonely, caution would've kept me away, but I was drunk, maudlin, and did I mention he was gorgeous?

Our coupling was fast, furious, and ended with him biting me on the neck. That was the last thing I remember before I lost consciousness.

"Come on, come on. You have to wake up before he returns." A soft, pleading voice broke through my sleep-shrouded mind.

I struggled to awaken and open my eyes. Blinking rapidly, I tried to make out shapes and forms from the solid darkness.

"That's it. Open those beautiful eyes. You can do it." The soft whispers continued as I felt hands tentatively touching my body.

Pushing myself up, I turned my head toward the voice. A young, slim blond, who looked to be in his early twenties, leaned over me. As my eyes adjusted to the dim morning light, I could see his troubled expression.

"Who are you?"

"We don't have time for introductions. We've got to get you out of here."

I didn't stop to ask him why; my mind was too clouded to understand anything more. I flipped off my covers and swung my feet over the side of the bed. Modesty wasn't a trait I had. The skinny guy averted his eyes and handed over my clothes, still not looking.

"Relax, honey. I'm not going to jump you." I slipped on my pants and shirt and was searching for my socks and shoes when I heard the front door slam open.

I quickly slipped on my footwear and followed the cute blond into the living room.

My supposed rescuer flinched as my hookup from the night before strode toward us carrying a bag that looked suspiciously like pastries.


"Hey, babe." I greeted him with a smile. "Blondie here seems to think I should run off without my goodbye kiss."

I had no trouble tossing the blond to the wolf.

My dark-haired love god glared at the kid.

"John. Why are you trying to scare my guest?" Damian's voice rolled across my skin like liquid sex. I grew hard at the sound as I remembered the night before and the hot words he muttered against my skin as he plunged into me.

I held back the moan aching to break free. Snatching the pastry bag out of his hands, I placed a soft kiss on Damian's cheek as I passed.

Opening up the sack, I inhaled the scent of flaky, buttery croissants. This time I let the moan break free.

"Damn these smell good."

"You're just going to let him buy you off with baked goods?" John asked. He didn't even bother to hide his scorn.

I shrugged, not the least offended. "What can I say? I'm easy."

Amber Kell
Sit down and have a little read

Friday, February 17, 2012

Power by Michael Barnette

Power: Part 3 by Michael Barnette

A Through Neon Eyes series story (Book 8)

Genre: GLBT male/male cyberpunk

Content Warning: This series contains BDSM, D/s, graphic same sex encounters, anal play and violence.

Heat Rating: Shadowfire (Five Flames)

Length: Long Story 30,500 words / 175 pages

Released 15th February 2012 Shadowfire Press

The power games between Director Perez, David Jessman and the gunwhore known as Bells come to an explosive conclusion.


Bells has made a lot of promises to Jessman not the least of which is to get him out of the current situation with Director Perez. But how can Bells do that when Jessman's job, his very life, is tied to NeuroTech and the research department Perez heads?


Bells tossed his clothes aside, and crouched to rummage under David's bed for the duffel bag that always seemed to wind up there. His lover refused to use the closet or dresser, just offered him a cool smile and a shake of the head when he'd suggested it. Everything that came with Bells from the LCFree wound up shoved under the bed.

David watched the sensual ripple of his Master's shoulders as the gunwhore pulled the heavy bag out. The zipper buzzed open, and David craned his neck to peer over the side of the bed as Bells pulled a few things out.

Black leather straps. Gleaming steel that jingled with a music not quite as sweet as the bells in the zonewarrior's hair.

His mouth went dry when he resolved the collection of leather and buckles into the harness Bells had worn first day they met. A groan of desire slipped between his parted lips, his balls aching with need as his cock twitched with memory fueled desire.

The blond grinned at him, winked and pulled the mass of leather and steel over his shoulders. Deft fingers played in a fast dance over the leather, fastening buckles, tightening black leather over golden skin.

Stunning. No other word sufficed to describe his vidstar handsome lover.

Lover. Is he really mine or....? No, I won't doubt him. He's told me he loves me. I have to believe that or everything I've done, all the suffering I've endured, all the pain and fear means nothing.

His lover transformed from hard-as-steel zonewarrior to lust-in-motion gunwhore with a simple change of attire. The dull gleam of black leather changed him transmuting him into a creature borne of unattainable, lust filled dreams.

Dreams that were purest reality for Jessman.

Reality that could shatter, fragile as fine crystal, under the warring pressures from outside, from things not under their control.

Like Perez and his lust. Or Megalli-Loran who still wanted him dead.

Or from whatever enemies his own lover might have made out there in the Zone. Men like Katana Blue and the Draks who'd come to kill him and would have relished murdering not just him but Bells too.

Their very lives were an illusion of permanence, their lives lived in two worlds where nothing was forever.

Corporate or LCFree, life was as fragile as glass, easily ended with a single bullet. He had a deeper understanding of how easily life could end, courtesy of their recent encounter with the killers out of the LC come to do him dead.

He swallowed, trembling with passion he could barely contain. Wanting, needing this golden god of his world.

He knelt, bowed his head. Silently submitting himself to the only man who could be his Master.

Cool hands touched his face, lifted it for a kiss, one of the unfastened lengths of harness tapping his shoulder. Bells, surrounded by the sharp tang of leather, the faint traces of gun oil and cigarette smoke that clung to the harness. The fainter odor of sex lingered in the leather, wrapped around his mind to rekindle the memories of their first time together. He found himself going back to the night he'd met Bells, the night his entire outlook on his life and sex changed to the crack of a cat o'nine as it showed him a new place, the realm of Sister Pain.

He shuddered, returned the kiss, arms going around Bells and holding tight; a drowning man in a storm tossed sea of emotion rife with trepidation about the future. Their future together.

He's my reason for everything now, my future is with him. No matter what I have to do to keep him, I'll do it, even if I have to let Perez fuck me. Even if I have to... The rest of the thought faded to nothing as one of his lover's hands touched his groin, cupping his balls, pressing firmly to his erection.

He gasped, a tongue slipping between his parted lips, exploring, tasting.

Gunwhore in action. But Bells was his gunwhore.

Click the link to buy

Judie S.

Shadowfire Press

Enter the Shadows... Set your imagination on Fire

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Considering Carlyle by Amber Kell

Considering Carlyle buy link

Sometimes love is found in unexpected places.

After months of secretly watching Master Carlyle, Ralph wishes the Dom would notice him. But why would he want a sub who is bigger and taller than him when there were so many delicate twinks begging for his whip? What Ralph doesn't understand is that Carlyle has watched the young sub and he not only wants him, but he plans to keep him.

Ralph Morris scanned the crowd as he walked through the club, looking for signs of trouble. He took his job as a bouncer seriously. No one had ever been injured on Ralph’s shift and he planned to keep it that way. He might not be as smart as some of the college students he worked with, but Ralph enjoyed his job. The smell of sweat and leather filled the air, like a rich cocktail to the senses. Inhaling deeply made his cock harden with need. Swallowing back a groan, he flashed a quick look over at the main stage. No scenes had started yet, but the night was still young. Plenty of time for whips, chains and other delicious toys to come into play. For a brief moment Ralph let the image of ropes wrapped around his own wrists flicker through his mind but he banished it quickly. No time for distractions if he planned to keep his job.

At twenty-two years of age, Ralph had six years of work under his belt and a nice nest egg in his bank account. Having grown up poor, Ralph still had nightmares about being back in that broken down trailer where his mother was too drunk to feed him and his father too ill from lung cancer to help. Horrible dreams merged with memories about fighting the dog for scraps of food and hiding from the rats in the darkness. If he hadn’t loved his father so much he would’ve left at thirteen years of age when his mother’s wild rages began. The day his father died, Ralph walked away and never looked back.

Ralph loved the nights he worked inside instead of standing by the front door freezing. Skirting the small dance floor, he spotted his favorite Dom across the room. Carlyle Temple sat at a table with his friend, Lindi Samms. Carlyle looked delicious with his blond hair pulled back, and the leather vest he wore exposing most of his upper body. Hair sprinkled across Carlyle’s chest, catching the light with their pale color. Ralph barely held back a whimper as he thought over how the Dom’s skin would taste beneath his lips and tongue. Carlyle didn’t reach Ralph’s massive proportions but the sub didn’t find any fault in the slim but muscular six-foot Dom. Carlyle would tower over most submissives. Unfortunately, Ralph’s build overshadowed all the Doms in the building, a good thing for his job as a bouncer but not so good when he was looking for a man to top him.

If only he could get Carlyle to really see him as a potential sub instead of only a bouncer. But Ralph learned long ago wishes didn’t come true and most Doms preferred a pretty twink rather than a big man. Ralph might be large and solidly built but he wasn’t a Dom no matter how many cute subs tried to get him to paddle their asses. His submissive tendencies were hidden while he worked and needed to get others to back down, but at night, alone in his apartment, he dreamed of a gorgeous slim blond with well-defined muscles and a fine hand with the whip.

“Hey, Ralph, are you going to my show tomorrow?” Ralph turned away from the object of his obsession to face his friend. After a month of belonging to Master Jones, Stephen Carter glowed with happiness. The thin artist flashed him a bright smile showing that at least for him everything was right in the world.

Lucky bastard.

Ralph was happy for Stephen, he really was, and if he repeated it enough times he could even suppress the jolt of envy stabbing him in the heart. Stephen had seen Master Jones and culled him from the herd through gifts and charm. Ralph wished he had even an ounce of talent to pull something off like that, but he might as well ask for the moon. Stephen was sleek and elegant; two things Ralph would never be with his large muscular build and clumsy feet. It didn’t make him stop liking the shy artist but it made him self-conscious around him.

“Well are you?” Stephen asked impatiently. “Going to come to my show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Ralph patted Stephen on the back, careful of his strength. He received a blinding smile for his answer.

“Great. It will be nice to see a friendly face,” Stephen nibbled on his thumbnail. “I’m kind of nervous about the whole thing.”

“Why?” Ralph didn’t understand Stephen’s nerves. Although he was only a bouncer, even he could see his friend’s brilliance.

Stephen shrugged, shifting uneasily back and forth on his feet. “I’ve never had strangers look at my stuff except, you know, teachers. At least not where I could see them.”

“Didn’t you have school art shows?”

A blush stained Stephen’s cheeks. “Not if I could get out of them.”

Ralph laughed. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’d be surprised if you weren’t sold out by the end of the night.”

“You think?” Stephen’s fidgets were even starting to make Ralph nervous.

He gave Stephen’s shoulder a light squeeze. “I’m not an art critic but I think you’re really talented.”

“Thanks, Ralph. I’m really glad you’re going to be there.”

“Isn’t Master Jones?”

Stephen shrugged. “He’s out on a business trip to turn some company around. I don’t know if he’s going to make it back in time.”

Sympathy stabbed through Ralph. He knew how much Stephen depended on the solid strength of his Dom to get him through stressful times. “I’m sure he will make it if he can.”

“I hope so.” Stephen took a quick look around. “I’ll let you get back to work, or in this case, staring at Carlyle,” he teased.

Ralph could feel the blush rising on his cheeks. “I can’t help it, there’s something about him.”

“The way he wields a whip?” Stephen teased.

A shiver rippled up Ralph’s spine. “No, there are other Doms who can whip just as well. Your master is one of them.”

“I wouldn’t know. We haven’t worked our way up to whipping yet.”

Ralph couldn’t tell from Stephen’s expression if that was a good or bad thing. “Do you want him to whip you?”

Stephen shrugged. “I want him to do something. He’s super careful, like I’m gonna break or something.”

“Give it a little time. He’s still getting used to you. There’s no hurry.”

“No. I guess not.” Stephen dipped his head down as if the floor suddenly became an object of fascination.

“What’s wrong?”

Stephen shrugged. “You don’t think he’d go to someone else, do you? You know, someone who he knows likes to be whipped.”

It probably wasn’t polite but Ralph couldn’t stop the laughter bursting out of his mouth. Only Stephen’s outraged expression brought his mirth to a halt. “Sorry, but now you’re just being stupid. Master Jones is madly in love with you. There’s no way that man will turn to anyone else. Give it a little time, okay?”

Stephen nodded. “Okay. You’re right. I guess I’m just nervous about the show and it’s making me crazy about everything else too.”

“There’s no reason to be nervous, Stephen. We all think you’re brilliant,” the warm smooth voice speaking behind him cut through Ralph’s composure quicker than a knife through butter. He bit back a moan when the dominant’s hand stroked up his spine. “Good evening, Ralph.”

Monday, February 6, 2012

My Subby Valentine by Amber Kell


When Kit loses a contest and approaches a dangerous Dom for submission, he learns that the man he lusted after from afar is a lot more complicated than everyone thinks.
Mason Briggs doesn't quite know what to do with the persistent submissive. Kit looks at Mase like he’s everything good and right in the world. After a murder accusation and trial, Mase just wants to protect his heart. What is he going to do about the sweet submissive who keeps walking through all of Mase's boundaries as if they aren't even there?When someone tries to tear the couple apart and threatens Kit's safety, Mase has to decide if he wants to go back to a life alone or fight for the man he's falling in love with.

When Kit loses a contest and approaches a dangerous Dom for submission, he learns that the man he lusted after from afar is a lot more complicated than everyone thinks.
Mason Briggs doesn't quite know what to do with the persistent submissive. Kit looks at Mase like he’s everything good and right in the world. After a murder accusation and trial, Mase just wants to protect his heart. What is he going to do about the sweet submissive who keeps walking through all of Mase's boundaries as if they aren't even there?When someone tries to tear the couple apart and threatens Kit's safety, Mase has to decide if he wants to go back to a life alone or fight for the man he's falling in love with.

Excerpt From: My Subby Valentine
Mase Briggs watched the group of subs huddled in the corner with a sense of impending doom.
"What’s up?" Jon Pendleton, a fellow Dom, clapped him on the shoulder before plopping into the chair beside him. He’d known Jon for about a year-ever since he’d moved to Seattle. The older man had a focused way with people that easily inspired trust in the younger men at the club. It was also one of the reasons the man made such a great private investigator.
In answer to Jon’s question, he nodded towards the subs crowded around a nearby table. It was still pretty early and the club wasn’t as packed as it would become later. "A group of bored subs with drinking games. Most of them look barely old enough to drink. Are you sure Thom carded them all?" As cute as the group was, that many young, mostly inexperienced men in one place made sweat break out on his brow.
Jeff, his previous sub, had been inexperienced and hadn’t come to Mase about his fears. Instead he’d taken his own life-ending it all in the bathroom with a straight razor while Mase was out buying dinner. Visions of his lover’s blood splashed against the white marbled floor still haunted Mase’s dreams. Jeff was the reason Mase only did public scenes now and kept submissives out of his home. He’d learned his lesson in the worst possible way.
Jon laughed, breaking into Mase’s grim memories. "Don’t worry Mase. Thom’s good at his job-he’s not going to let a baby submissive into the club. All those men are the right age." He examined them carefully before adding. "Barely...but old enough. Besides, I thought you liked them young."
"Not that young. I think they’re working up to some sort of bet. Who do you think will lose?" Mase asked, watching the group, his curiosity bubbling up at their antics. He had no doubt the contest involved a test to see who would be brave enough to submit to him. Enough glances flew in his direction to alert him that he was somehow involved. He’d be more than happy to whip one of them then send them on their way if it would end their speculation over him.
During the past year, Mase had learned that being an accused murderer gave him a dangerous, bad boy appeal. Mase didn’t want to be viewed as a challenge to be overcome or something frightening to survive. Hell, if he had his way, he’d never come to another club but instead be back at his house living in domestic harmony with the sub of his dreams. The only problem was Mase hadn’t met him yet...and he doubted he’d have the courage to take another sub home even if he found him.
Jon propped his head on his hand and watched the group. "I’m sure it will be something original. It’s probably a contest of some type."
It quickly became apparent who had lost when an extremely pretty young man with curly chocolate brown hair stumbled out of the crowd.
"You promised, Kit. You can’t back down now," one of the other subs yelled. Mase couldn’t tell who had shouted, but he had to hold back a laugh as the delicate-looking man made an extremely rude hand gesture. The obviously inebriated sub wobbled his way over to Mase then fell to his knees in a surprisingly graceful move.
"Good evening, Sir." Dark, forest green eyes blinked blearily up at him.
"Good evening," Mase said. The liquor-soaked kid could barely sit up straight but Mase had to admit to being impressed when the sub indeed held his pose.
"May I be of service?" A hopeful note followed the question as the kid tried to focus his glazed eyes.
Mase slid a hand beneath the sub’s chin to hold his head up. The young man’s silky skin felt amazing beneath Mase’s fingers. It had been so long since he’d felt desire for a specific person and not just whoever was handy to sate his cravings.
"What kind of service are you offering?" Not that he’d accept anything from someone so drunk, but he was oddly reluctant to send the sweet thing away.
The sub licked his lips in a motion more nervous than lustful. "Whatever you want, Sir."
"So if I wanted to tie you up and spank you until your ass glows like a stop light, that would be all right?"
The brunet’s eyes glazed over and damned if he didn’t give a full-bodied shiver. "I-if that’s what you want, Sir."

Just a Vampire by Stormy Glenn

Just a Vampire (MM)
Tribal Bonds 1

by Stormy Glenn

[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, vampires, werewolves, HEA]

Electus Luca Ucathya has waited hundreds of years to find his anamchara, his soul mate. Rowan Connelly is not what he expected. For one, the man doesn't have a submissive bone in his body. Even worse, Rowan is a wolf, one of the most dangerous and hated enemies of a vampire. But giving Rowan up isn't an option.

Discovering that he is the mate of a vampire isn't so bad for Rowan, but the things required of him as the mate of the leader of a vampire tribe just might be more than he can handle.

When Rowan is kidnapped, not once but twice, Luca knows he has to do everything in his power to keep his mate safe, something that would be much easier if Rowan would accept his place as the mate of a vampire and behave. Instead, Rowan is drawing Luca into more trouble with every breath.

And Luca just can't seem to mind.


Blond hair sufficiently frosted and spiked?


Black eyeliner expertly applied to bring out the green in my eyes?


Lips plump, shiny, and looking like I could suck a golf ball through a hundred feet of garden hose?


See-through T-shirt tight over chest and short enough to show off my belly button ring?


Pants low on my hips and hugging my ass so tight I can’t breathe?


Rowan Connelly laughed at himself in the bathroom mirror. He could breathe, but just barely. If he sat down, his tight black leather pants were in serious jeopardy of splitting at the seams and maybe a ball or two would be crushed in the process. But as long as they hung low on his hips and hugged his ass, who gave a crap?

His mama always said that being beautiful came at a price, and if he hoped to get lucky tonight, that price was breathing. Hell, breathing was highly overrated anyway. Sex, now that was the stuff, and unfortunately, it was stuff he was currently lacking in his life. Hopefully, he looked slutty enough to get someone interested and get that taken care of.

He patted his hair one last time then went into his bedroom and retrieved the condom and small tube of lube from his nightstand and pushed it into his front pocket. He pushed his identification into his back pocket along with some cash then headed toward his living room to wait for his ride.

Twenty minutes into pacing back and forth in front of the front window and he was about ready to go on his own. His brother Seth was never good at arriving anywhere on time, but this was ridiculous.

Rowan had a feeling Seth would be late to his own damn funeral.

Just when he was ready to pull his hair out from frustration, the phone rang. Rowan jumped toward it. “It’s about damn time,” he snapped, not waiting for anyone to say anything. “I’ve been waiting for—”


Crap on a cracker. Rowan gripped the countertop so tightly that the tips of his fingers started to sting. He could feel the animosity coming through the phone from the simple mention of his name. Rowan drew in a deep breath and braced himself.

“Hello, Carlton.”

“I’ve sent a car for you. I’ll expect you at Briarwood in an hour.”

Rowan drew in another shaky breath. His fingers gripped the countertop even more. “I’m sorry, Carlton. I was under the impression that you had banished me from pack lands. I distinctly remember you telling me never to set foot in Briarwood again.”


Rowan held the phone away from his ear when Carlton shouted into the phone. Had the man ever spoken a soft word? Rowan’s head started to throb. He could already feel the headache coming on. He knew for a fact that it would be a migraine by the time he hung up with Carlton.

“I do not have time for your foolishness,” Carlton snapped. “Be ready when the car arrives.”

Rowan’s fingers tightened around the phone. He knew he had to stop letting his former alpha dictate his actions, especially since he had been kicked out of the pack six months ago and had to learn to live on his own with no pack to call his own. It just sucked that his family had suffered the same fate because he refused the alpha’s advances.

“I’m truly sorry, Carlton.” Right. Rowan rolled his eyes. Even he didn’t believe that one. “I have other plans tonight. Maybe we can get together for Sunday brunch.”

And maybe they would need snowblowers in hell.

“I don’t give a damn what plans you have, Rowan. You will wait for the car and return to Briarwood.”

Rowan winced as shards of pain hammered into his head at Carlton’s anger. He rubbed his temple until the pain receded then sighed deeply. “No, you never did care about what I wanted, and I can see that has not changed.”

“Enough, Rowan!”

“I have to go, Carlton.” An inexplicable perverse emotion suddenly filled him. “I’m off to the bar to find a big dick to fuck my ass. I can’t say it’s been nice talking to you, but it’s been interesting.” God, he wished he was a fly on the wall to see Carlton’s reaction to his crass words.

Rowan could hear the alpha screaming into the phone as he set it back in the cradle. He had no idea what had made him say what he had to the man. Carlton was sure to be pissed beyond reason. Rowan knew there would be repercussions for his words, starting with the migraine he knew was coming. He just didn’t care at the moment.

He had stopped caring six months ago when his alpha kicked him out of the only home he had ever known because he wouldn’t mate with the man. A mating Rowan knew nothing about had been announced at his twenty-fifth birthday party. When Rowan had learned that his mating ceremony to Carlton was planned for the following month, he knew he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

The expression of uncontrollable rage on Carlton’s face when he refused the mating still stuck in his mind. He just didn’t care. No one had asked him if he wanted to be mated to the alpha. Carlton had just announced it like he would accept whatever little crumbs the alpha threw his way.

He might not be as tall or as handsome as his three brothers, but he had curves in all the right places, as his mother liked to tell him. Curves Rowan was very proud to show off. It sounded rather odd when referenced to a man, but he did have quite the ass. He had gotten his striking blond hair and high cheekbones from his mother along with her small, compact dancer’s body.

There were days that he loved the slim lines and tight muscles on his body and the way he moved when he walked across a room. There were other days when he hated the fact that he had inherited the Nordic good looks of the rest of his family. It often drew all the wrong people—like Alpha Carlton Gregory.


“You may call me Luca.”

Rowan’s smile wobbled. “Rowan.” No last names needed, not if he wanted to get away from tall, dark, and dangerous. And he wasn’t sure he did.

“Yes, I know.” The skin around Luca’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned. “I asked for your name the moment I saw you.”

Rowan blinked in surprise. “Really?” That was bad. Stalkerish bad.

“I could not let you get away from me without knowing everything about you.”

Wow! Obsess much? Rowan frowned. “Do you always stalk people you just met?”

“Just you, anamchara.”

“Lucky me.” This was all getting a little weird.

“No, anamchara, I am the lucky one, lucky that the gods have designed to grant me with such a beautiful gift.”

Rowan tried not to shy away from the fingers that slid down the side of his face but it took all of his control. Things were getting weirder by the minute. He just wanted to go out and have a good time, maybe find someone to spend the night with. Rowan only had wham-bam-thank-you-sir in mind when he had headed out of his apartment. He hadn’t meant to find a stalker.

Maybe it was time to go.

“Stay, anamchara,” Luca said as if reading Rowan’s mind, which was unnerving in itself. “Let me kiss you.”

Rowan swallowed hard as his eyes dropped to Luca’s full lips. Maybe not. It wasn’t like he had any other offers, and what could one little kiss hurt? Because kissing Luca would be like kissing the hottest man he had ever seen in his life.

And then he could go.



“Okay,” Rowan whispered.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from Luca’s lips as the man leaned closer. He watched them until they faded from sight then looked up into Luca’s dark eyes, inhaling sharply when he noticed that they had darkened even more. Different shades of deep red seemed to swirl around their murky depths, hypnotizing Rowan until he felt Luca’s lips press against his—and then he moaned.

Kissing Luca sucked every last bit of air right out of Rowan’s lungs. His lips tingled as delight filled every cell in his body. Rowan groaned against Luca’s lips and moved closer, pressing his body against the bigger man’s.

He needed more.

When Luca’s tongue stroked over his lips, Rowan eagerly opened his mouth and allowed the man inside. A sweet, musky flavor blasted across his senses when their tongues met and tangled together. Rowan couldn’t have prevented the soft mewling sound that left his mouth if his life depended on it.

His cock throbbed in his pants, threatening to break through his zipper in a need to get to Luca’s. Rowan couldn’t ever remember being so aroused in his life. It was almost more imperative than breathing to get closer to the man.

Rowan swung his leg over Luca’s thighs and pushed himself up to straddle the man’s lap. When he settled down and felt Luca’s hard cock press up against him through their layers of clothing, Rowan’s mind fragmented. He shuddered in delight when he felt fingernails trail down over his skin.

He started moving, pressing himself down on Luca’s hard length. He thought he might have offended Luca when the man suddenly growled, until he felt Luca’s hands grip his ass and push him down until they were grinding against each other.

“Please,” Rowan whispered against Luca’s lips. The noises around him faded. The strobe lights dulled as the golden colors swirling in Luca’s eyes deepened. Nothing mattered but feeling Luca’s body pressed against his as the man’s lips devoured him.

“That’s it, mo anamchara.” Rowan heard the words whispered in his mind but was too far gone to think about why he was hearing them.

Rowan cried out in ecstasy when he felt one of Luca’s hands move around his body to press against his aching cock through his leather pants. They were so tight he could feel every single touch of Luca’s fingers. His head fell back on his shoulders as he humped his hips, trying to create even more friction. He was so close to blowing he could almost taste it.

Rowan was so caught up in the pleasure racing through his body that he didn’t even notice his pants being unbuttoned until the hot skin of Luca’s bare hand wrapped around his cock. At the same moment, Luca’s other hand slid down the back of his pants, the man’s thick finger moving down between the crease of his ass to lightly flutter over Rowan’s sensitive opening.

Rowan started keening low in his throat, the pleasure threatening to drown him. No one had ever touched him in such a manner. No one had ever made him feel such ecstasy before. Rowan felt like he was going up in flames—and Luca was adding fuel to the fire with every soft touch.


“Yes, anamchara, that’s it,” Rowan heard in his mind again. “Come for me. Show your master how much you like my hands on you, how much you like me touching you.”

Luca’s words inflamed Rowan. He’d revisit the master comment later, much later. He was too busy at the moment going out of his mind. Every exquisite sensation flowing through his body came together in one large sudden explosion. The feeling of Luca biting into his shoulder was all Rowan needed to fall over the edge into the abyss.