Wednesday, February 27, 2013


Special Operations 3
Going undercover to find the commander of his marine unit was supposed to be the easy part. When his cover is blown, Lieutenant Bill Harrison doesn't know whether to hold on for the dangerous ride or jump. With a drug lord determined to take them out, Bill has to rely on his skills and the sexy guardian angel sent to save him to stay alive.
DEA Agent Angelo Martinez is pissed when he's pulled off his current assignment to go rescue some marine in trouble. Rescuing Bill turns out to be tougher than any undercover mission Angelo ever went on. Besides the fact that Bill is gorgeous, the man makes Angel reconsider his lonely lifestyle. And that makes Bill just as dangerous as the drug lord hunting them.
When rescue comes for both of them, Angelo knows he has to find the strength to give up the only man that ever made him think about giving up his undercover work. And Bill has to find the strength to let Angelo go, hoping that his guardian angel will find his way home.
Coming February 26th from Siren Publishing
Pre-Order Today

"Hi, gorgeous, sorry I'm late. My car had a flat."
Lieutenant William Patrick Harrison almost forgot where he was as he stared at the sexy man that suddenly straddled his lap and leaned in brush their lips together. If it wasn't for the snicker he heard from one of the men sitting across the table from him, he would have dumped the cute little guy right on his ass and demanded to know what in the hell was going on.
He had never seen him before in his life.
"No problem," Bill replied instead, fully aware of the fact that his life would come to a very quick end if the men he sat with ever learned who he really was or why he was really there. They were not the forgiving sort. They'd gut him just to watch him bleed out on the floor.
The stunning man in his lap grinned widely, showing off a brilliant set of straight, white teeth, and then leaned in to plant a another kiss on Bill's lips. Bill was stunned. He didn't even kiss the man back because he was trying to figure out who in the he was.
The cute little guy with short, brownish-black hair moved his lips up Bill's jaw, nibbling along the way before licking at his earlobe. "Angelo Martinez. DEA," the man murmured in a sub-vocal tone, his warm breath tickling Bill's ear. "Your cover is blown. I'm here to get you out."
Bill stiffened, tightening his hands on the man's hips. He tried to think of some way to converse with the man without being caught anymore than he already was. Unfortunately, he could only think of one thing that would get him a few minutes alone with him.
"It's been a few days since I've seen my angel." Bill winked knowingly at the men at the table. Hoping that they would think he was going off to the bathroom to get laid or at least fabulous sucked off. It was the only excuse he could think of to get away from these men without actually getting up and hauling ass. "We'll be right back."
He didn't even take the time to let Angelo down on his feet. Bill merely lifted the man up in his arms and started walking him through the club to the bathroom in the back. He knew Angelo was going along with his plan when he felt the man's legs wrap around his waist and a loud, delighted giggle filled the air as they walked away.
The second he reached the bathroom and the door closed behind them, Bill lowered the Angelo onto his feet then looked into each of the stalls to ensure that they were alone. Once he was sure, Bill crossed his arms over his chest and turned to look at the Drug Enforcement Administration agent sent to rescue him.
If he could have hand chosen a man to gain his attention, the gorgeous little guy standing in front of him would have been at the top of his list. Angelo Martinez was stunning, from the top of his wavy brownish-black hair to the bottom of his little feet.
His body was a little more on the thin side than Bill would have liked but it seemed to be all slick muscles and darkly tanned skin. There was an exotic tilt to Angelo's dark brown eyes that hinted to ancestry other than Central American—maybe Egyptian?
"I'm listening."
Angelo stepped up and ran a hand down Bill's chest then subtly nodded his head toward the corner of the room near the ceiling. "Oh, baby, don't be like that. I got here as soon as I could."
Bill's eyes narrowed. He glanced to the corner of the ceiling where Angelo had gestured and saw a small black circle in the white plaster. Bill knew what it was without even getting a closer look.
They were being monitored. Bill didn't know if it was just video or if there was audio as well, but he was taking no chances. He plastered a smile on his face and curved his hand around the side of Angelo's face.
"You know I don't like it when you're late and don't call me," Bill commented, choosing his words carefully. "It's a big bad world out there, Angel. I worry about you."
Angelo's lips came out in a pretty damn good imitation of a pout. "I know, baby." The agent started plucking at the collar of Bill's shirt. "But I can make it up to you."
Bill felt his eyes widen when Angelo pushed him back toward one of the stalls but that was nothing compared to how big they got when the man dropped to his knees and reached for the buttons on Bill's jeans.
Was he insane?

Was he insane?
Bill dipped his head down and purposely glared at the man, silently asking what he had just thought. When Angelo just grinned and shoved his hands aside, Bill knew he was right in his assessment. He didn't know this man. There was no way he was letting Angelo anywhere near his dick, DEA agent or not.
Angelo rolled his eyes and continued trying to get Bill's pants undone. Bill tried to fight him, keeping his hands tucked carefully around his cock. He didn't care how hard this little wrestling match was making him.
Bill froze when he heard the bathroom door open. It gave Angelo the chance to get his pants open and pull out his dick. Bill stiffened and glanced down, opening his mouth to snap at Angelo when two things happened at once.
A head appeared over the top of the bathroom stall and Angelo engulfed Bill's straining erection down to the root. All Bill could do was groan as his cock was suddenly surrounded by soft, smooth wetness. Then Angelo swallowed around him, causing Bill to groan even louder.
The man hanging over the bathroom stall chuckled. "He looks like he has lips that could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, Billy."
Bill recognized the voyeuristic male as one of the assholes from his table. That wasn't good. It meant he couldn't get out of having his dick sucked until the man left, and with the way that Angelo was moving his mouth, Bill didn't think he would last that long.
Angelo's mouth was like magic. The wet slurping sounds of Angelo's lips sliding up and down his erection, sucking hard, made Bill's cock hard as steel. He pumped his hips toward Angelo's swollen lips, unable to help himself.
From the little glint of anger he could see in Angelo's eyes, Bill was going to get punched in the face the second they were alone. The little man was a fucking wet dream come true as far as sucking cock.
It just might be worth the abuse.
Angelo was lapping at Bill's cock as though it was an especially tasty treat. He swirled his tongue around the entire shaft before pressing the tip into the slit of the flared head. Bill groaned and pushed his cock to the back of Angelo's throat, waiting for the man's reflexive swallow to squeeze the sensitive tip before retreating and pushing into his hot mouth again.
Who the hell knew a random blow job by an undercover agent could set his damn blood to racing? Bill had to curb the urge to grab Angelo's head and fuck the man's mouth to completion.
He was pretty sure the agent would do more than punch him if Bill tried.
Angelo knelt in front of Bill, gripping his hips like an anchor. His eyes were lit up, going from angry to sensuous one second to the next. They smoldered with lust, which surprised the shit out of Bill considering the situation.
Still, the sight of Angelo's desire as he sucked Bill's cock—as much as the sensations he was feeling—was enough to push Bill over the edge. Arching his back, Bill gritted his teeth as waves of ecstasy throbbed through him. He gripped a handful of Angelo's hair and came, filling the guy's mouth with his release.
"Fuck, man," Lou said from over the stall. "Can I give him a try? I'd like to fuck his sweet little ass."
Before his cock could even finish pulsing, Bill reached over and grabbed Lou around the throat, tightening his fingers until the man's face began to turn red. "Angel is mine," he bellowed with outrage. "If anyone touches him, they will have to deal with me. Is that understood?"
Lou's head bobbed as he tried to loosen Bill's hand. Bill snarled at the man and pushed him away, turning his gaze back down to the man that knelt at his feet. He hoped Lou got the idea and left. He had some serious apologizing to do.
Bill stroked his finger over Angelo's lips. The man had been handsome before but knowing that Angelo's lips were swollen because he had just sucked him off made Angelo downright stunning in Bill's eyes.
"That was nice, baby." Bill felt the corner of his mouth curve up when Angelo glared at him. He just might like this DEA agent after all. He had spirit. "Thank you."

For more on the men of the Special Operations series, visit my website

The Case of the Cupid Curse by Amber Kell & RJ Scott


The very thought of paranormals is enough to drive Private Investigator Sam Enderson mad, but add in his attraction to a vampire, and his world is turned upside down.
Sam Enderson is a human detective who finds himself working for paranormal creatures, despite his resolve to stick with humans only.
Bob is a vampire and turns up on Sam’s doorstep to rent a room. Sparks fly, and Sam is attracted to the vampire in spite of himself.
Soon after Sam is cursed by a witch, two cases land on his desk. Dealing with werewolves, annoying ghosts and a grumpy gargoyle is bad enough. But somehow, in amongst all of this chaos, he has to find a lost fae and a missing shifter child.


Sam Enderson stood outside his building and smiled with pride. The fresh sign painted on the door in crisp black letters read ‘End Street Detective Agency’. Examining the overall effect, he nodded in satisfaction. This move to becoming a private investigator was as far from being a timid bookseller as he could get. No one would walk all over someone who investigated crimes for a living.
Three months of correspondence school and a shiny new multi-weapon licence had given his confidence a much-needed boost. After the hellish past year, in which he’d found his boyfriend in bed with his now ex-best friend, followed by the death of his favourite uncle, Sam was ready for a new start in life.
Uncle Hanson. Just thinking about him made Sam feel sad. He had fond memories of visiting his uncle at work. The man had always liked Sam. He evidently had carried that affection into Sam’s adult life. After all, he had left Sam an entire building in his will, the building Sam now stood in front of. An office with accommodations over the top, it was worth quite a bit of money despite its proximity to an undesirable area.
“You should sell,” his friend Oscar had said. Oscar had had no love for Uncle Hanson. In a sniffy tone, he’d often consigned Hanson to the idiot pile and called him ‘odd’.
“I don’t want to sell,” Sam had protested.
“What are you going to do with it?” Oscar had asked.
“Open up my own agency.”
Oscar still wasn’t speaking to him, even now, three months later.
Sam sighed at the memory then mentally pushed it all to one side to admire his property. The lower half consisted of a business office and reception area, with the upper two floors divided into four apartments. Three were empty but his uncle had filled the fourth one with notes from his own investigative practice. That room was high on his list of things to sort out, but he first needed to concentrate on renting out one of the empty apartments.
Sam may have inherited the house, but it hadn’t exactly come with a burgeoning bank account to match. Forty years of being a detective and all Hanson had had to show for it was this building, a small bank account and a room full of papers. Sam was determined to be different. He even had a five-year plan in place. Sam didn’t doubt for one minute that he knew exactly why his uncle had had little money to speak of. Uncle Hanson had done too much pro bono work for them.
Filing cabinets and boxes overflowed with notes from years of being a private detective. A lot of those papers included cases involving aspects of the paranormal, things Sam thought better left alone. Sam didn’t have a drop of supernatural blood in his entire body and he didn’t plan on associating with those who did. It hadn’t exactly worked out for his uncle.
Paranormals had their place. Hell, they owned half the city. Vampires and werewolves, witches, fae and pixies—they all had their own parishes. Neighbourhoods where they lived amongst their own kind. Like enjoyed living with like, and, although they often mixed and matched, no one in Sam’s family had ever crossed the romantic boundary between the magical and the not.
Sam didn’t count his second cousin Christa, who had taken up with a blood demon. There was a bad seed in every batch.

Amber Kell
Sit down and have a little read

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Children of the Night by P.G. Forte

Home is where the heart bleeds.

Children of Night, Book 3

Growing up, vampire-born twins Julie and Marc Fischer were taught one simple fact of life: you can choose your food, but not your family. Six months after moving to San Francisco, though, the new challenges and choices each are facing are a Gordian knot of complicated.

Marc must decide whether to stay with Conrad and Damian, the only family he’s ever known, or embrace his destiny and the unexpected family—the ferals—that comes along with it. Meanwhile, Julie is forced to deal with the unpleasant realization that the man she loves isn’t necessarily the man who’s best for her.

For Conrad and Damian, the holiday season is stirring up bittersweet memories, and neither can keep from revisiting past passion and pain. 

Faced with new mysteries to solve, new alliances to forge, new secrets to keep, and old relationships to rebuild, it’s no wonder the Fischer-Quintano vampires long for the good old days—when food was food and family was all that mattered. 
Product Warnings
If you’ve previously suffered from Disco Fever, this book could precipitate a relapse. Extreme care is recommended for anyone with a pronounced weakness for mistletoe, fang play, pretty young men of either species or extremely dangerous alpha-male vampire single dads. May contain trace amounts of polyester. 

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Point of Beginning The Gentlemen's Club 1 by Gale Stanley

Point of Beginning
The Gentlemen's Club 1

This title is offered at a 10% pre-order discount. Offer ends midnight CST, March 9th.

[Siren Allure ManLove: Erotic Alternative Romance, M/M, HEA]
Geeky CAD technician Jack Monroe is bi-curious, but after he falls head over heels for a certain curly-haired construction surveyor, he’s ready to admit he’s gay. Too bad Alex James is straight and has a girlfriend who keeps him on a short leash.
Jack is determined to meet other gay men, but after a few dates from hell, he's ready to give up. Then he meets Richard Caldwell, part owner of the exclusive Gentlemen’s Club where wealthy members can make their dreams come true. Richard takes Jack under his wing and offers him a chance to act out his fantasy with an Alex lookalike. Nobody can replace Alex, but knowing the real thing is off-limits, Jack accepts the offer. When the real deal shows up, Jack is convinced that Alex is only there for the money. But sometimes dreams do come true.
Note: This book was previously published with another publisher and has been extensively revised and expanded.
Available at Bookstrand:
I hate gyms!
But then, Jack had pretty much hated gym class all through school. Always the smallest kid in the class, and the last picked for any game, he’d shied away from any kind of sports. He preferred to have his nose buried in a book rather than broken on the hockey field, and he couldn’t hit a baseball to save his life. At least no one ever bullied him, but no one wanted to be his friend either.
High school was more of the same. While the other guys tried out for football or screwed as many girls as they could, Jack spent his time studying or on the computer. What made it even worse was his sister had been a top-notch gymnast who’d almost made it to the Olympics. Lucy had gotten the best of the Monroe gene pool. Their parents had avoided comparing them, but sibling rivalry was inevitable. Jack couldn’t help swinging back and forth between admiring and detesting Lucy. To this day, they barely spoke and only saw each other on the holidays. His fault, not hers.
Jack pulled into the parking lot of the Liberty Gym, but he didn’t turn off the ignition.
I can still change my mind. I don’t have to go in.
He’d almost turned back twice already on the seven-mile drive from work to the gym. Still undecided, he sat behind the wheel, thinking.
What the fuck am I doing here? Maybe twenty-eight is too damn old to start acting like one of the guys.
On the other hand, Jack was sick of being some kind of bibliosexual freak. All those years spent reading about other people’s lives, and he still had no idea who Jack Monroe was.
Will the real me please stand up?
A knock on the car window interrupted his thoughts, and Jack’s head jerked up.
His coworker peered in at him with a furrowed brow and a questioning look. Too late to change his mind now, the decision had been made for him. Jack turned the key and opened the door.
“Jack, you okay?” Alex looked a little worried as Jack got out of the car.
“Course he is. Let’s get a move on, before all the equipment is taken.” Kyle’s tone grated on Jack’s nerves. What the fuck was his hurry? The man already looked like a terminator. It gave Jack a bit of satisfaction that Kyle had to comb his thinning hair over a distractingly shiny scalp.
Jack ran a hand through his own thick, sandy mop and smirked. “Oh yeah. Wouldn’t want to miss a minute of this opportunity.” Bullshit. Kyle, being the only member, acted like they were here on his dime. In reality, Jack and Alex were using free passes that Kyle had scarfed up because the gym was doing a big promotion to get new members.
The three coworkers started walking around to the front entrance, Jack lagging behind. The gym looked like a shiny oasis in the middle of a very ugly strip mall.
“You coming?” Alex called over his shoulder.
Jack took a deep breath and picked up his pace.
Alex turned and grinned at him. “Wouldn’t want to lose you.”
If only it were true.
The thought came unbidden to Jack’s mind, and he brushed it aside. He’d been having these urges lately, and they all revolved around Alexander James. Pretty damn surprising since they hardly knew each other and even weirder because Jack hadn’t been attracted to anyone in so long, he’d started to think he was asexual. He’d never been sexually abused, and he knew he wasn’t impotent because he enjoyed masturbating, but until now, he’d never known what it meant to have chemistry with someone—man or woman. This bizarre sexual pull toward Alex must be what people referred to as having butterflies in their gut.
Too bad it’s one-sided.
Kyle stood in front of the entrance. “Let’s do it,” he said cheerfully.
The door opened, and they walked into a trendy temple of fitness where all the muscle guys were gods who looked good enough to pose alongside Ryan Reynolds in a photo shoot. Suddenly Jack’s throat felt tight and his pulse raced. He felt like he was back in middle school again, trying to measure up.
Suck it up and go for it.It’s all in your mind.
Jack suddenly felt shy undressing in front of another man. It was just easier if he didn’t have to watch Alex watching him.
“What are you thinking?” The voice behind Jack was low and husky.
But before Jack could reply, hands reached around his waist and held him close, close enough that Jack could feel the warmth of a hard furry chest against his back. Jack swore he could feel the erratic thump of Alex’s heart, and the other man’s barely controlled passion scared the shit out of him. Jack hadn’t been this anxious in the bathroom at the Canopy Club. But that had been a stranger sucking him off. This was Alex!
Searching fingers released his zipper, and a warm palm slid inside the fly of his slacks. A hand fisted his cock and stroked, nudging the swollen head at every pass.
Jack groaned.
The feeling of another guy’s big, calloused hand around his cock did crazy, wonderful things to Jack’s flesh. Knowing who belonged to that hand made it even better. Alex’s thumb rubbed circles over the leaking head. Then Alex lifted his thumb to Jack’s mouth and brushed a bit of pre-cum over his lips. It was a taste of what was coming, and it made Jack anxious for more. He gripped the waistband of his jeans, and Alex helped him shimmy out of them and his briefs.
“Turn around and look at me, Jackson.”
Jack did as he was told, and Alex stepped back. Slowly and seductively, Alex’s gaze slid downward, stopping at Jack’s leaking prick before traveling back up. “Tell me you want me, Jackson.”
Jack had never been good at expressing his feelings. Words didn’t come easy. “You know I do.”
“I need to hear you say it. I need to know you want me and not some anonymous stripper. Because if it’s not like that, we can stop right now.”
Pure desperation helped Jack force the words out. “I want you, Alex,” he heard himself say. “It’s always been you. I didn’t think I could have you.”
“You make me so fucking hot,” Alex said hoarsely. He pulled Jackson into his arms. “I’m not sure I could stop if you wanted me to.”
Alex grabbed the hair at Jack’s nape and kissed him hard, pushing his tongue deep into the man’s mouth. Jack returned the kiss, his mouth wide open, his body rubbing against Alex. Alex felt so fucking good. Jack melted against his warm body, making them both shudder. It was hot as hell.
Panting, Alex suddenly pulled back. “Want to suck you.”
Oh, God. Jack wanted that, too. But even more, he wanted Alex’s cock in his mouth. He wanted to know that he could bring pleasure to Alex. What Jack lacked in experience, he’d make up for with enthusiasm.
He averted his eyes. “Alex?”
“What, baby?”
“Me, too.”
“Tell me.”
“I want to suck you, too,” Jack croaked helplessly.
“Fuck, yes.”
Alex looked like the director of a porn movie as he lay on his back and told Jack where he wanted him. Jack would have laughed if he hadn’t been so hot and so embarrassed. He climbed on the bed, and facing Alex’s feet, he straddled his head. Alex stared up at Jack’s cock and licked his lips.
“Want to make you come so hard you see stars.” Alex growled. He gripped Jack’s thighs, urging him down.
Jack crawled over him until they were both in a mouth-to-genitals position. Jack slid his hands over Alex’s thighs. The coarse hair bristled under his palms. Alex’s penis stood straight up and wagged like a metronome in front of Jack’s face. He’d never been this up close and personal with another man’s cock. Fascinated, he compared it to his own. Maybe a little longer… Jack traced a finger over the bulging veins and heard a quick intake of breath behind him.
The tip of Jack’s cock brushed against Alex’s lips, and Alex swirled his tongue around the head.
“Oh, God,” Jack moaned as he did the same to Alex and was rewarded with appreciative grunts and groans.
Then Jack’s cock was bathed in wet heat as Alex licked his shaft from top to bottom. Determined to please his lover, Jack did the same for Alex. A few swipes of his tongue, and instinctively he wanted more. His mouth closed around the purple head, and Jack let it slide over his tongue. It seemed like such an intimate act, having another man’s dick in his mouth. Jack relaxed his jaw and slid his lips up and down the shaft, swiping the head with his tongue on every pass. God, he hoped Alex was enjoying this as much as he was.
Happy Reading!

Friday, February 15, 2013

To Catch a Croc by Amber Kell


Protect those you love, annihilate everyone else.
    For as long as he could remember Denton Stills has followed his friend Carey around. When Carey gets a mate Denton starts to consider maybe it is time for him to find his forever man. However the only one sniffing around is an obnoxious puma who seems to think Denton is as good as his. When saltwater crocodile shifters try to move into Denton’s territory he takes a page from Carey’s father “protect those you love, annihilate everyone else. Will Denton be able to hold back a shifter invasion with his friends or will he have to ask for help from the one man who makes him thinks happily ever after might be possible?


As he emerged from the shrubbery, the scent of people approaching made Denton freeze in his tracks. He hadn’t smelled that kind of shifter in a long, long time and in the cool Northwest country he’d never thought to smell them again. What were they doing here? Why had they invaded his home? Brutal memories sent fear icing over his chest and grabbed him by the throat. He started shaking again but this time not from cold.
    “Hello there, Freshie,” a hard voice said.
    Two large shapes appeared from the darker area of the park.
    Crap! Saltwater crocodile shifters!
    He’d hoped for once his nose had been wrong and that his gun wasn’t still in his Jeep. The saltwater or Indo-Pacific crocodiles were much larger than freshwater and it reflected in their human form. Denton knew he couldn’t take them, especially two of them. In his animal state, Denton would be several feet smaller than the strangers before him. Not to mention as a human, Denton was thin and lanky, nothing like the muscular beef-meisters standing before him. His mind raced as he tried to remember if anyone had mentioned salties moving into the area. He was pretty sure information like that would’ve stuck in his head.
    It annoyed him that Carey had been right. He never should’ve come to a public lake to swim in his crocodile form. He’d hoped to escape detection in the dark. Apparently, although the humans didn’t see him, the other crocs knew exactly where to find him.
    “Hello,” Denton said, keeping a wary eye on the salties. He didn’t trust saltwater crocs—they moved into territory and killed everything in their path. Sure, they couldn’t live in freshwater but that didn’t stop them from keeping everyone else from living there either, especially if an area had both.
    “We came to give you a friendly warning,” the man on the left said. He had muddy brown hair and eyes that changed from black to brown in the dim street lights scattered around the park.
    The man on the right stepped forward. “We thought you should know there’s a new bask in town and we don’t want no freshies tainting up the waters.”
    “I see. Thanks for the warning, but aren’t you guys a little north for crocs?” Most croc shifters didn’t like to leave the warmer climates. Denton only lived in Seattle because that’s where his friends were. If given the choice, he’d go live in Florida or someplace hotter. Only his heated rock and almost scalding baths got him through the cold winters.
    Denton kept his body facing them, not wanting to show the salties his back. Both of the men were wider and more muscled than him. He didn’t care to give them the chance to pounce him unaware. He knew how to protect himself, but with two men so much bigger and potentially more lethal, he didn’t stand a chance.
    “Now that’s for us to say, isn’t it?” the croc on the left growled.
    “I suppose it is.” Denton tried to keep his voice level and non-confrontational. He hoped to get away with minimal damage. His adoptive father, Aden Gale, was going to kick his ass once he learned Denton had traveled without a weapon on him.
    One of the salties stepped forward, and Denton stepped back. Fear had his heart beating a rapid staccato in his chest. A bask of salt water crocs had destroyed his family when he was a young hatchling. Denton only escaped because he’d been out swimming. Coming home to find his family in pieces had gutted him.
    He’d clung to the new friend he’d met at the watering hole. Carey, who was in Australia on vacation, persuaded his father to take Denton home with them. For some reason the tough mercenary couldn’t say no to his son who had him wrapped around his little kindergartener’s finger in an inescapable bind. To this day, he didn’t know how they’d smuggled him into the country. He didn’t want to know how they got him legal-looking paperwork.
    He wished he’d told someone where he was going. Anyone. Instead he’d snuck out of the house without saying a word.
    Now Denton yearned for his friend’s presence with the ferocity of a young child wishing for a pony for Christmas.
    “The boss said we couldn’t leave any bodies lying around, so we’re only here to deliver a friendly reminder for you to get out of town.”
    Before he could react, one huge fist punched Denton in the eye and sent him tumbling down to the ground.
    Laughing, the saltwater crocs approached. “You have one day to evacuate.”
    Still stunned by the first hit, Denton didn’t scramble out of the way fast enough. One giant steel-toed boot slammed into his ribs. He heard the crunch and snap of his bones shattering. He didn’t remember much after that because everything went black.

Amber Kell
Sit down and have a little read

Thursday, February 14, 2013


Special Operations 2
Deputy Robby Harrison wanted Wren from the moment they met but no matter how hard he tries, Wren seems to only want to be friends. When Robby gets fired from his job by his brother, he suddenly realizes he’s chasing after a loss cause. In a fit of anger and depression, Robby ties one on at the local bar, only to wake the next morning in bed with a naked woman. Totally freaked out, Robby runs only to end up in the arms of the very man he was trying to forget.
Warned away from Robby six months ago, Wren tried to let things take their natural course. When Robby arrives home after being missing for hours, Wren loses the tight grip he had on his control. What follows is a wild ride that neither of them have any desire to stop. 
When the dust settles, Wren is overjoyed that Robby is finally his. But someone else thinks that Robby belongs to them and they will do anything, including threaten Robby’s family, to keep Wren and Robby apart. The marine motto is ‘When everyone runs from danger, marines run towards it’ and Wren has every intention of facing the danger head on. He just has to keep Robby alive long enough to discover who is after him and why.

“You want what?”
“You heard me, Robby,” John Henry replied, his face clouded as if he was hiding something. “Turn in your badge and your gun.”
“But why?” Robert Peter Harrison asked as he stood there in utter shock, not sure if he should reach for his badge or punch his brother in the mouth. His stomach twisted with anxiety and disbelief at what he was hearing. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
He was a good deputy and he knew it. He did his job to the best of his ability but with care and consideration for the people he dealt with. There were no reasons he could think of that John Henry would be demanding his resignation. He hadn’t broken any laws, been late for work, or anything else that would result in John Henry standing here demanding he give up his badge and gun.
“It’s better this way, Robby.” John Henry seemed pensive and almost hesitant as he folded his hands together and rested them on his desk. “You’re not happy here. You’ll never be happy here. It’s time for you to move on.”
What in the hell was John Henry talking about? Robby loved his job. He loved being a deputy, working alongside of his brother, and protecting the people in their county. He actually couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do.
“I don’t want to move on, John Henry. I like it here.”
Robby knew he wasn’t going to get John Henry to see reason when he saw the man’s jaw tighten and his lips spread into a thin line. John Henry Harrison was a stubborn ass bastard when he wanted to be. It could be a redeeming quality at times.
This wasn’t one of those times.
“Robby, I’m the sheriff here, and your older brother, and—”
Robby barely contained the angry words gagging him when John Henry started talking. It was the same speech he had heard more times than he could count. And he knew, no matter what he said, John Henry’s mind was made up.
Robby had just been fired.
Robby clenched his jaw as he pulled the badge off of his uniform shirt and set it down on the desk. Next was his gun. He carefully unloaded it then set both the gun and the magazine down next to his badge before turning and walking toward the door off John Henry’s office.
Robby paused at the door with one hand on the door handle, then glanced over his shoulder at his brother, a man he had respected almost more than anyone—until today.
“You know, John Henry, one of these days, you’re going to interfere in my life one too many times and you’re not going to be able to fix what you’ve done.” Robby glowered at John Henry then turned away.
He yanked the door open and stormed out, slamming the door loudly behind him. It was better than smacking his brother. He could feel the stares of the other deputies and office personnel as he walked to the closet and grabbed a cardboard box.
It seemed almost anti-climatic that it took less than five minutes to gather all of his belongings out of his desk and put them in the box. Five years of a career and all he had to show for it was a small cardboard box full of crap.
When Robby heard John Henry’s office door open, he grit his teeth and fought for control as he grabbed his stuff and walked out, not bothering to acknowledge his brother was even in the room. If he did—if he even looked at John Henry—he was likely to punch the man right in the mouth.
Robby walked out and then dropped the box of his belongings into the bed of his pickup truck, climbed into the cab, and slammed the driver’s door closed. He took a moment to breathe, grabbing the steering wheel with both hands and resting his forehead against it. If he didn’t get himself under control, he’d march right back into the sheriff’s station and give into his urge to hurt his brother.
Robby couldn’t remember when he had ever been so angry at the man. He adored him and had for his entire life. John Henry was the very example of the man Robby wanted to be—until today.
Robby didn’t know whether to go with the anger clouding his mind or the heartache wrapping around his heart. He felt like he had been betrayed, like John Henry was taking something precious from him that Robby wanted more than almost anything in the world.
Well, almost anything.
There was still one thing Robby wanted more.
Robby held onto his control by a thread as he pulled his cell phone out and dialed a number he had memorized months ago. He tried not to call it too often but right now, he needed the voice on the other end more than he needed air.
The corner of Robby’s mouth curved up when he heard the phone connect but no one spoke. That’s how it always was. Wren never said a word until he knew who was at the other end of the line. It was just one of the man’s odd quirks.
He had many.
“Hey, it’s Robby. Want to hang out?”
They had spent a lot of time together when Wren wasn’t gone on a mission, both at Robby’s house and Charlie and John Henry’s. But most of their time together was at Robby’s place, and usually spent just watching movies or hanging out. No matter how many hints Robby dropped, Wren never crossed that line to take things further between them.
“Leaving work early?”
Robby swallowed the bile that suddenly threatening to come up as he thought about the job he had just lost. He stared down at his fingers, pulling at a loose thread on his jeans. “Yeah, something like that.”
The man on the other end of the phone—the one Robby dreamed about at night and fantasized might someday want something more from him than just a few hours together here and there—grunted.
“I’ll meet you at your place.”
And just like that, the phone went dead.
Robby snapped his phone closed and slid it back into his pocket. It felt like knives stabbing into him every time he called Wren and got the same blasé response. He didn’t know how to define his relationship with the man. He didn’t even know if they had one.
Robby called, they hung out, and then they went their separate ways. There seemed to be this wall between them that Robby had never been able to breach. He shook his head at the tears that suddenly appeared. He ached with need and loneliness and it felt like it had just quadrupled.
Robby tried desperately to give Wren the space he seemed to need so much but sometimes it was really hard—like now, when Robby wanted nothing more than to feel Wren’s big muscular arms wrap around him and make him feel like everything would be okay.
And as much as he knew he would suck up whatever attention Wren gave him, he couldn’t help but want for more. He just knew if Wren gave in, things would be explosive between them.
Wren never seemed to budge. He had made it very clear in the beginning of their friendship that there was a line that Robby wasn’t allowed to cross. Robby had tried a few times—flirted, made some passes, dropped some verbal hints—only to be rebuffed. He was starting to doubt that even walking around naked in front of the man would get him anything.
Maybe getting fired was finally making him see the truth. Wren just wanted to be friends. And no wanting for something more on Robby’s part would change that.
“God!” Robby dropped his head back against his seat and stared up at his ceiling. “I am so fucking pathetic.”

Wren scooted back and lifted up onto his knees, moving them between Robby’s calves. He slid his hands down Robby’s back to the man’s tight ass. He heard a soft sigh when he grabbed Robby’s hips and pulled the man back into a kneeling position, Robby’s legs hugging his thighs while his ass was pushed up against Wren’s erection. 
Wren’s arousal took on new meaning as he watched his cock slide up and down the crack of Robby’s ass. He tenderly stroked his hands over the rounded globes then gripped them tightly in his hand and pulled them apart until he could see the man’s puckered opening.
He teased Robby, rubbing the head of his cock over the man’s quivering entrance but never quite pushing in. He wanted Robby’s surrender. He craved it. Robby needed to know who he belonged to because Wren wasn’t giving him up.
Robby was his.
“Do you like that idea, love?” Wren asked when he saw Robby’s body shake. “Do you like the idea of everyone knowing you belong to me?”
When Robby didn’t answer right away, Wren decided to up his game. He would have Robby’s answer before they left this room. He pulled back until the head of his cock slid down between Robby’s butt cheeks again, catching on the small cleft of his hole.
It hadn’t been that long since Wren had claimed Robby but he still reached for the bottle of lube carelessly tossed on the bed. He snapped the lid then poured a liberal amount to the place where his cock met Robby’s ass. Once there was enough that he knew he wouldn’t hurt Robby, Wren closed the cap then tossed the bottle back on the bed.
Watching his engorged cock slid slowly into Robby’s welcoming body was more erotic than watching any porn he had ever seen. Nothing had ever gotten Wren this worked up. He was ready to explode and he had barely gotten in.
“Feel how beautifully your body accepts me, love?” Wren asked, never taking his eyes off of where his body was so intimately connected to Robby’s. “Your body knows who you belong to even if you don’t.”
Just as he sank his cock into the hilt in Robby’s ass, Wren saw Robby start to reach under himself. He knew what Robby was doing and he couldn’t allow that, not until he had a commitment out of the man.
Did he care?
Wren leaned down and grabbed both of Robby’s wrists and brought them around to his back, holding them there with one of his. It pushed Robby’s face into the mattress but it also pushed Robby’s ass up against Wren.
Wren moved closer until his hard frame fit to the soft contours of Robby's. He slid his arms down around Robby’s stomach and lifted him. Wren smiled as he nuzzled at the younger man before tenderly stroking sweat-damp hair from the man’s beautiful face.
“Who do you belong to, love?” he asked as he moved Robby’s arms up over his head, rapping them around Wren’s neck. It gave him unfettered access to the man’s dark hued nipples and rippled abdomen, two places Wren loved to touch and caress.
Wren played with Robby’s nipples as he began to move in long, slow strokes, driving his cock as deep inside of Robby’s tight channel as he could go before pulling out and repeating the process all over again. When Robby groaned and fisted his fingers in Wren’s hair, Wren gripped the man’s hips and began to move harder, faster and deeper.
A soft whimper eased from between Robby’s lips as he melted into Wren’s arms. Wren closed his eyes and held Robby to him, savoring the feel of the man in his arms. He had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Robby.
“Who do you belong to, love?” he repeated, needing the answer more than he needed to come, and that was saying something. Robby’s body gripped him so tightly in silken heat that Wren worried his dick would burn right off.
“Wren!” Robby wailed as Wren nailed his prostate over and over again. Wren knew this was a good position. Not only did he have Robby splayed out over him like a second skin, but he knew he his cock would scrape over Robby’s sweet spot with every thrust. “Please!”
“Answer my question, love, and I’ll let you come.”
Again, underhanded. And again, Wren didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let Robby get away from him now that he had had him. Robby might have had a chance at escaping him before they had fucked each other, but they had. And now Robby didn’t have a chance.
“Who do you belong to?” Just to swing things in his direction in case there was any doubt in Robby’s mind, Wren reached down and wrapped his fingers around the man’s pulsing cock, giving it a couple of firm strokes.
“You!” Robby shouted. “I belong to you!”
“Right answer.” Something long buried and feral rose in Wren at Robby’s words. He started pounding at an alarming rate into Robby’s ass as he jerked the man’s cock. The need to mark Robby inside and out overwhelmed him.
The only cell in his brain that hadn’t slid south to his engorged cock worked the problem over and over again in his head even as his orgasm started reaching for him. A simple tattoo wasn’t going to cut it and he knew it. He needed something more to show that Robby belonged to him.
He just didn’t know what.
Robby’s shattered wail of completion echoed around the room as he sprayed white ropes of cum over Wren’s hand. Wren’s cock hardened to steel at the sound. He couldn’t control his outcry of delight as his seed erupted into the still spasming channel, making him soar until the peak of delight was reached.
Once he could breathe again, Wren gently eased Robby down onto the bed then cuddled up behind him once again, pulling Robby up flush against his own body. Robby wiggled for a moment but it wasn’t to get away. Much to Wren’s delight, Robby scooted back toward him as if the man needed the reassurance of touch to make everything okay.
Wren picked up a lock of Robby’s brown hair and caressed it gently between his fingers. His desire for Robby overrode everything else but the feeling was much more than sexual desire. He adored every little thing about the man. He just wished Robby understood that.
The man was oblivious sometimes.