Monday, March 31, 2014

Purr for Me by Lynn Hagen & Stormy Glenn

Purr for Me
Phanta City 2
Available Now!
[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Futuristic Paranormal Romance, M/M, vampires, shape-shifters, cross-dressing, HEA]
When Pan Thyr is arrested for a crime he didn’t commit, he's determined to take down the man responsible for his torture. But being on the run makes it hard to prove his innocence. He is not only fighting to clear his name, but prove to Igorian Hunchback that they are meant to be together.
Igorian refuses to give in to his desires where Pan is concerned. Although the man is a walking wet dream, Igorian has been taught that vampires don’t mate outside their race. It is a lesson drilled into him from rebirth.
When wanted posters go up and the two must run for their lives, Igorian learns that fighting against the attraction he feels for Pan is futile. Can the two clear their names and the misconceptions taught to Igorian, or will the Ministry of Paranormal Affairs doom them both to a death sentence before Igorian finds out what it means to purr for a panther shifter?

Amber eyes twinkled as Igorian groaned and turned away. Pan knew exactly what he was thinking. Igorian just knew it. The man had some sort of unnatural hold over him and damned if Igorian could figure out how to stop it. He had even considered going to Glitter Glow Park and asking the fae to break whatever spell Pan had placed on him.
He just hadn’t been able to go through with it.
Igorian snagged another champagne flute from a passing waiter and replaced it with his empty one. He swallowed down the entire contents of the glass in one long swig then quickly grabbed another one before the server could move away.
He’d grab the entire tray if he thought he could get away with it. Crimson Cristal was some of the best blood he had ever tasted. Too bad the damn stuff was so pricey. At fifty thousand dollars per crate—with a crate only holding six bottles—the champagne was too expensive to waste.
Igorian groaned when his friend Cass A. Nova slid up next to him and bumped shoulders. “Hey, Cass.” He glanced to the other side of the man, the empty side. “No date?”
Cass shrugged. “I know everyone here.”
Cass’s face flushed. “No and. I just know everyone here. I’m more interested in finding someone new.”
You mean someone that hasn’t heard your lame pickup lines. Igorian almost said his thoughts out loud. Only good manners, an abhorrence of making his friend feel bad, and not enough alcohol kept his mouth shut.
“Well, good luck with that.”
“Who needs luck?” Cass flashed a big smile. “I have charm.”
No he didn’t, but so far, no one had been brave enough to tell the vampire that his pickup lines sucked. Cass was a pretty big dude, much bigger than Igorian. Telling him he had a better chance of scoring some ass if he kept his big trap shut just didn’t seem to be in Igorian’s best interests. He preferred his head to be attached to his shoulders.
Of course, if Cass just stood there with his mouth shut, he’d get enough guys crawling all over him to keep him knee-deep in cuties for a month. He was a stunning man…right up until he opened his mouth.
Igorian started looking around for another waiter. He was too sober for this shit. “I need more champagne.”
“Right,” Cass snorted, “because the last time you got rip-roaring drunk worked out so well for you.”
“Shut up!” Igorian snarled, his skin flushing deep red, which wasn’t too hard to do considering how pale his skin naturally was. He passed for undead with the best of them. “I thought we agreed never to talk about that again.”
The one person he had to pour his heart out to about that night had to be the one with the biggest mouth in the entire coven. What kind of idiot was he?
“No.” Cass nudged his champagne flute toward Igorian. “You agreed to never talk about it again. I agreed not to tell you what an idiot you were.”
Igorian frowned. “Gee, thanks.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
Igorian glowered at Cass. “Why are we friends again?”
Cass’s rich laughter circled around them, drawing more than one glance from those in hearing distance. “Because you adore me.”
“No, I don’t.”
Cass’s red eyes twinkled as he bent his head down and rested it on Igorian’s slim shoulder, fluttering his eyelashes wildly. “Yes, you do.”
Blink, blink.
Igorian rolled his eyes as he turned his head, the smile threatening to curve up his lips pissing him off almost as much as the laughter that was trying to fight its way free. “You’re incorrigible.”
Cass’s long eyelashes fluttered again. “But I’m cute.”Igorian snickered. He couldn’t not laugh at the simpering puppy-dog look on Cass’s face.
How a man of his muscular stature could make himself look so unthreatening was beyond Igorian. Or maybe it was just him. Cass was his best bud. Igorian was more afraid of spiders…’cause they were really gross and stuff.
“Oh, he’s cuter than me.” Cass was standing up straight and taking off before Igorian could even figure out who the vampire was talking about.
Igorian just stood there and watched Cass work his magic, and then watched the little cutie he had honed in on roll his eyes and walk away. And that would be Cass A. Nova’s magic. It got him every damn time.
“He’ll never be able to satisfy you like I can.”
Igorian’s throat thickened on one breath as rough words were purred into his ear. How Pan had snuck up behind him he would never know. He had been hyperaware of the panther since he arrived at the party.
“Go away,” Igorian growled under his breath as he tried to see if anyone was looking in his direction. He didn’t want anyone knowing he even knew Pan Thyr, let alone that he had slept with the guy.
“Kiss me first.”
Warm breath blew across the side of his neck. There was a slight tug on a strand on his long ink-black hair. A warm body pressed up so close behind him that Igorian could feel Pan’s hard erection pressing against his butt.
He almost melted into the floor as desire swept over him.
“I am not going to kiss you.”
“You want to, beautiful. You know you do.”


Just as Igorian started past the doors leading out of the ballroom, he was grabbed and pressed back into the shadows of an alcove just off of the hallway. Warm breath blew down on his face. An even warmer body pressed him into the wall.
That was another thing that Igorian had learned on his one night of indiscretion. Panthers ran warm. For a vampire who was always cold, it was like pressing his body against a live furnace.
It was glorious.
Pan captured his lips in that very moment, stealing all thoughts from Igorian’s head just as he stole the breath from Igorian’s lungs. He groaned into the kiss as Pan’s thick sultry scent filled every pore in his body. The kiss was brutal, crushing, and Igorian could taste the metallic flavor of blood in his mouth.
Pan gripped Igorian’s shirt, an animalistic sound rumbling in his throat as he tried to pull himself closer. Pan was branding him, making his own claim, and Igorian was so turned on that he was about to explode in his slacks.
“That’s right, kitten,” Pan growled into his ear, “purr for me.”
“Fuck you!”
“So graphic.” Pan chuckled into Igorian’s mouth as he kissed him. He groaned as Pan’s hand wrapped around his neck, his thumb caressing behind his ear. Pan growled into Igorian’s mouth as his tongue traced along Igorian’s bottom lip, making his entire body shiver with need. “Submit to me, Igorian.”
Igorian swallowed around the dry lump in his throat.
Should he?
Could he?
Hell, yes!
“I need skin.” Pan’s voice was strained, almost as if he were just as desperate as Igorian was to feel their skin collide.
He captured Igorian’s lips in that very moment, stealing all thoughts from his head just as he stole the breath from Igorian’s lungs. He groaned into the kiss as Pan’s musky scent filled every pore in his body.
The kiss was hot, a savoring caress as Pan kissed his breath away. Pan’s kisses grew more demanding, more savage. Igorian reveled in his passion, his breath catching as the sexy panther kissing him even deeper.
Igorian wiggled against Pan when he felt the man pulling at his clothes, an animalistic sound rumbling deep in his throat. Igorian was desperate to feel Pan’s large, thick cock in his ass, and to hell with whoever might catch them.
Igorian swallowed around the dry lump in his throat as he tilted his head back and allowed Pan to nibble down the arch of his neck. Pan was branding him, making his own claim, and Igorian was so turned on that he was about to explode in his slacks.
Once Pan had his shirt ripped open, he began to work on Igorian’s pants. Igorian just stood there and allowed the panther to undress him. Pan’s movements were wild, unforgiving, and dared Igorian to interfere.
Igorian wasn’t stupid. He wanted the gorgeous shifter.
Pan dropped to his knees and reached for him, spinning Igorian around to face the wall.Igorian cried out when he felt a finger rim around his asshole. A slight pressure applied, and then Pan’s finger sank in deep.
Igorian panted heavily, wanting to feel more but needing a minute to adjust. He wasn’t sure whether to scream time-out or push back on the invasion. Igorian cried out whenPan added a second finger.
When Pan’s hand began to move, Igorian bit his lip to stifle his outcry of delight. His heart seemed to rush to every spot Pan touched. Igorian didn’t know his body was so sensitive to Pan’s caress until it happened, and then he could only beg for more.
“Pan, please.”
He looked up and his pulse beat more rapidly at the intensity he could see in his lover’s eyes. Pan seemed to have eyes only for him. Igorian had to believe that it was true. The need mirrored in Pan’s eyes couldn’t be faked.
There was just no way.
Pan’s lips covered Igorian’s mouth with a hunger that made Igorian melt against the man. His kiss was surprisingly gentle despite the strong hardness of Pan’s lips. Igorian groaned, giving himself freely to the passion he could feel in it, the need.
A hot ache grew in Igorian’s throat. He needed more than a kiss, as earth-moving as it was. He needed to feel Pan’s body pressed against his, to feel the man’s naked skin. Pan suddenly tore his mouth away from Igorian’s and looked at him.
Their eyes locked as their breathing came in unison, hot and heavy. Igorian’s breathing stuttered in his chest. The closeness of their bodies was like a drug to Igorian, lulling him into a passionate euphoria.
Pan began thrusting his fingers in and out of Igorian’s tight ass. Igorian’s senses leapt and a delicious shudder heated his body. Igorian whimpered again when Pan’s hand slid down his thighs and then over his ass. His fingers massaged Igorian’s butt, making Igorian pant heavily with need.
He wanted.
He wanted desperately.
He took in deep and ragged breaths, biting hard into his bottom lip as he whimpered. The building sensations were sweeping through Igorian, buzzing through his mind, his senses exploding with greedy lust until he thought he would go mad.
Igorian’s body arched into the panther’s as Pan stroked him, every inch of him hypersensitive and greedy for his touch. Igorian couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t hold Pan tight enough. He was desperate, a coil of need tightening inside of him.
Pan leaned back, nipping Igorian’s shoulder. Igorian shuddered as Pan grabbed his bottom and lifted him up, separating his mounds before lining his cock up. Igorian inhaled sharply as he felt Pan’s large cock enter him.
Igorian wailed Pan’s name as the panther pushed past the clenching muscles, stretching Igorian as his cock began to pick up a rhythm. He writhed under Pan, fighting to accept the ample width of male flesh impaling him.
A slender, delicate thread began to form between them with every thrust. Igorian had longed for someone for longer than he could remember. He felt special, cherished. He felt wanted.
“More, Pan,” Igorian whispered as he pushed back against Pan. “I want more.”
He wanted everything!
Pan started moving faster, harder. One of his hands clenched around Igorian’s thigh. The other one grabbed a handful of Igorian’s hair at the nape of his neck and tilted his head back, exposing his throat.
Pan’s teeth latched onto the exposed skin and Igorian went wild. The combination of Pan’s cock pounding into his ass and the teeth at his throat were enough to send Igorian’s senses swirling out of control.
“Breathe, kitten.”
Igorian chuckled. “Can’t.”
Pan grinned and started moving. Igorian barely had time to draw in a deep breath before Pan slammed hard and deep inside him. He didn’t start out slow, instead going straight to pounding into Igorian as fast and as hard as he could.
The scent of blood filled the air, and Igorian realized that his claws had extended and even now dug into Pan’s tanned skin. It only seemed to heighten both of their arousals, pushing them together and melding their souls.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Joyful Devastion by Erin M. Leaf

No one expects an alien invasion, least of all Dr. Bea Morgan, and especially not on the day she meets the man of her dreams. Wait, no, the men of her dreams. Two sexy officers in her ER is surprising, but when they steal a kiss from her on a broken elevator, everything changes.
Gideon Cearvall has been dreaming of a faraway desert tower his entire life, but he’s learned to put aside childhood fantasies. He’s a good cop with a great partner who considers him family. So what if he’s in love with his best friend? Theo will never know.
Theo Gray adores his family and his partner. He’s perfectly happy—until he meets the curvy doctor who rocks his world. When a kiss turns into a fight for survival, he struggles with his desire for both Gideon and Bea.
When aliens devastate your world, love is all that will keep you alive.
Be warned: menage sex (MMF), m/m sex, anal sex, rimming, spanking
 Buy links: Evernight - Amazon - AReSmashwords - BookStrand
 Story Excerpt:
Just when she was afraid she was going to lose it, Theo leaned close enough that she felt his breath on her ear.
“Bea, this is going to sound crazy, but I’d really like to kiss you,” he murmured.
She stopped breathing as Gideon went totally still on her right side. “Um, what?” she asked stupidly, trying to buy some time to think. The moment he’d said the word “kiss” her entire body went rigid. She remembered his warm brown eyes and full lips—and don’t forget his lovely cock, her brain supplied helpfully—and couldn’t figure out what to say.
“I wanted to ask you to dinner in the hospital, but I chickened out,” Theo murmured, not moving away.
Gideon tried to let go of her hand, obviously hearing what his friend was saying, but Bea tightened her fingers. God help her, but she wanted them both. In the silent darkness, that actually seemed like a viable option.
“Please,” Theo whispered, lips brushing her skin.
She shivered, then nodded. She had to clear her throat before she could get her voice to work. “Okay,” she said, then grabbed hold of her courage. “But I want a kiss from Gideon, too.”
Gideon sucked in a sharp breath. “What?”
“You heard me,” Bea said, feeling Theo smile against her cheek. “I don’t think Theo minds sharing.” In the dark, it was like another person had taken over her voice. Suddenly, she could talk about what she really wanted. She didn’t want to choose between them. And it’s just a kiss, she told herself. No big deal.
“Yeah, okay,” Gideon said, low and husky. “As long as Theo’s okay with it.”
“I don’t mind,” Theo muttered, moving closer and pressing his body into hers.
Bea caught her lower lip between her teeth. Was this really happening? She felt bold and sexy, totally unlike her usual self. Theo slotted up against her and she abruptly felt the hot length of his cock on her hip. His injury wasn’t slowing him down at all, not that she’d expected it to. Any man who could maintain an erection in the emergency room while someone sewed up his thigh was certainly virile. He was also large and strong. Bea melted into him as Gideon moved closer. The long line of his body pushed into her right side so that they surrounded her. She liked the way it felt. A lot. She didn’t feel trapped. She didn’t feel nervous. Instead, she felt more aroused than she’d been in years. Or ever.
“You smell so sweet,” Theo said, nosing along her cheek.
Bea laughed breathlessly. “I probably smell like antiseptic.”
“No, you smell like gorgeous,” Gideon said, kissing under her right ear.
The double whammy of the two men moving in at the same time had her trembling. “God,” she said, voice thick.
“Not God,” Theo said arrogantly as he moved in. “Just me.” And then his mouth was on hers.
Bea gasped. He kissed her the way a drowning man craves air, the way a runner pushes to the finish line: all-out, nothing held back. He devoured her mouth, hands in her hair holding her steady. Gideon kept her upright, an arm going around her waist. She didn’t know if the two men had done this before, but she thought not. She sensed Gideon straining to see, but the darkness cloaked them all in a sort of hushed arousal.
When Theo finally let her up to breathe, Gideon moved in, kissing her lightly at first, and then deeper, slow and teasing. She held onto his hand, picturing his electric blue eyes as his lips moved on hers.
“Fuck,” Theo said, pushing his erection into her. “I can hear you kissing each other.”
Gideon shuddered into her mouth and she grabbed his shoulder with one arm and wound the other around Theo, bringing him in again. She kissed Gideon wildly and then switched to Theo. When she moved back to Gideon, he groaned and she realized that he was hard, too. His cock lay against her right hip. When she kissed him, Theo hadn’t quite moved away yet and suddenly, they were in a three-way kiss that felt hotter than an inferno. When they finally broke apart, Bea couldn’t catch her breath.
“Jesus.” Gideon dropped his head into her neck. “If we weren’t trapped in here—” He broke off, hips rolling in unmistakable intent.
“Yeah,” Theo agreed, hands around his friend as well as Bea.

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

Erin M. Leaf

A MOMENT IN TIME by Stormy Glenn

Aberdeen Pack 5
When Apollo Roman woke to a gorgeous man cooking breakfast in his kitchen, the thought that the two were mates was the farthest thing from his mind. The only he was thinking about was being claimed by the bear of man, especially when Grayson spreads him out like the guy's own personal buffet. But happiness comes with a price. Apollo learns this when Grayson disappears soon afterward. 
Grayson Sanchez snuck into Aberdeen Valley so he could speak to Alpha Khenti and convince the man to give him and his surviving pack sanctuary. What started as a scouting mission soon turns into a fantasy come true when Grayson not only finds the man of his dreams, but claims him.
But in order to keep his dream, Grayson will have to fight an unknown enemy, defy the council, and commit to something bigger than he ever imagined. And even then, there is no guarantee that the two will have anything more than a moment in time.

He smelled bacon. Apollo lifted his nose into the air and inhaled deeply. Yep, it was definitely bacon.
He loved bacon.
Apollo popped an eye opened and lifted his head, glancing around the room, slowly opening the other one. Yep, he was still in his room. He recognized the dark blue curtains hanging over the windows, the blonde wood dresser situated between two windows across the room. He even identified the pile of clothes on the floor as his.
He just didn’t understand why he was smelling bacon.
Since Adam had moved away and Simon had gone to live in the alpha house, and Warren and Hank were on a mission, the house should have been empty. There should be no bacon scent, not matter how mouth watering it smelled.
Apollo groaned as he slid his legs over the side of the bed.
He ached, and in some very interesting places.
Apollo paused for a moment on the side of the bed and tried to remember what in the hell he had done the night before. He vaguely remembered attending a celebration for his brother Ares and his new mate Simon. Ares wanted everyone to know he had mated Simon and had thrown a huge party down by the lake.
Since he was not on duty, he was able to enjoy himself. Apollo had enjoyed the festivities probably a little more than he should have. He had been recovering from an injury caused when Simon had been attacked. He was almost healed and ready to go back into rotation guarding pack lands.
Apollo reached down and rubbed his hand over the small scar on his thigh. Wolf shifters didn’t usually scar. He had. He wasn’t thrilled with that as everyone could see his scar every time he shifted in front of them. But it was what it was and he had earned that scar saving a member of his pack.
That was something, at least.
Apollo grabbed his jeans off the floor and pulled them up his legs, buttoning the first couple of buttons before standing and making his way to the bathroom. He quickly took care of business then washed his hands and face.
Apollo scratched his chest absently as he headed downstairs. Maybe one of the other pack members had crashed at his place last night. Apollo had to admit that he had indulged just a little too much at the party. He was just lucky his head didn’t feel like it was going to explode.
In fact, he felt pretty damn good. Apollo felt better than he had in a long time, more energetic, stronger, and steadier on his feet. He felt better than he had before he had been injured.
Another mystery to solve.
Apollo rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs and skidded to a halt, his mind shattering into a million different directions as he took in the most gorgeous figure of a man he had ever seen in his life.
There was a tingling in the pit of his stomach. He trembled in equal parts fear and yearning an electric jolt go right to his core. His mouth went dry when the man bent down to pull the oven door open and the thin black shorts he wore stretched across his tight muscular ass cheeks.
Apollo bit his lip to keep his anxious whine locked away. He didn’t even know who this stranger was. He shouldn’t be picturing the gorgeous Adonis stretched out on his bed, naked from the hair down.
That thought barely crossed Apollo’s mind before another followed. His dick stiffened in his pants as he wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through the man’s dark thick shoulder length hair, to grip it in his fists while he held him firmly and kissed him, hard and deep.
He watched the man for several long moments, devouring him with his eyes before hanging his head trying to reign in his emotions. He was lusting after some stranger standing in his kitchen in tight black boxer briefs. He had to be out of his ever loving mind.
Carried away by his response, he failed to notice that the man had turned and even now stared at him, until his throat cleared. He gave Apollo a smile laced with so much sensuality that it set his pulse racing.
“Good morning, mi amor.”
Apollo sucked in a breath at the deep rich whiskey voice that slid across him like a caress. This man could make millions on phone sex alone. Apollo shook his head to clear away the overwhelming lust that had taken a hold of him.
“Uh, hello.”
His smoky blue eyes assessed Apollo, the man walking closer. Apollo gulped at the barely controlled power that was coiled in the muscular body in front of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had encountered a shifter that emitted so much dominance. He had an insane urge to tilt his head in submission to the stronger wolf.
He was ready to do just that when the man stopped right in front of him and Apollo realized he had to tilt his head back quite a ways to look up into the man’s serenely compelling eyes.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I think so.” He couldn’t remember.
“I made you breakfast.” The wide grin that spread across the man’s mouth announced his joy in such a simple gesture.
“Thank you?”
Apollo’s entire demeanor froze when he found himself suddenly lifted up and sat on the counter like he weighed less than a feather. Mr. Sexy stepped between Apollo’s thighs, pressing up against him. Even sitting on the counter, the man was still taller than him. He was probably taller than anyone Apollo knew, even Djal.
“It was hard to leave your bed, mi amor.”
Apollo’s eyebrows furrowed. “Who—” If the man was talking about leaving his bed, and adding in the delightful aches Apollo was feeling, then it was a pretty good bet that they had spent the night together.
Hot damn.

Grayson captured Apollo’s lips in that very moment, stealing all thoughts from Apollo’s head just as he stole the breath from his lungs. The kiss was brutal, crushing, and Apollo could taste the metallic flavor of blood in his mouth.
After his initial shock, Apollo responded to the kiss with hunger. He groaned into the kiss as Grayson scent filled his lungs. His body tightened involuntarily, every bone and muscle in him reaching for Grayson mouth, the hot draw of his lips, the moist wash of his tongue.
Eagerly, Apollo's tongue mated with Grayson's, his body arching as he tried to get closer. Grayson arms went around Apollo, blunt nails scraping along his arms as Apollo twisted closer. A hunger unlike anything he'd ever experienced shook his very foundation.
Apollo stared into Grayson's eyes and felt the shock clear to the soles of his feet as his tongue continued to lick at Grayson's lips. The man was looking at Apollo with nothing short of worship in his eyes.
“I need to have you,” Grayson whispered in his ear, his voice husky and growly. “Tell me I can have you again, mi amor.”
As gorgeous and delicious as this man was, Apollo wished he could remember the first time. "Yes."
An animalistic sound rumbled in Grayson’s throat.
He lay back on the counter and let Grayson have his way. Grayson began to work on Apollo’s pants, ripping them down Apollo’s legs. His movements were wild, unforgiving, and dared Apollo to interfere, to stop him.
Apollo didn’t do a damn thing but watch.
He whimpered when he felt a large, smooth, hand slide up his chest until Grayson’s hand was loosely wrapped around Apollo’s throat. He should be terrified that he had a huge shifter hovering over him with sharp canines gleaming in the low light and a hand wrapped around his throat, but oddly enough, Apollo wasn’t.
It was turning him on big-time instead.
Grayson’s eyes gleamed like glassy, volcanic rock as he looked down at Apollo. His tongue peeked out, sliding across his bottom lip as his fingers tightened around Apollo’s erection. Apollo groaned, and then his head fell back onto his shoulders as Grayson’s fingers ran up and down his length.
“Feel how your body responds to my scent, my touch,” Grayson said in a rough tone that rode roughshod over Apollo’s skin. Grayson’s deep husky voice was branding him, making his own claim—again—and Apollo was so turned on that he was about to explode. “Mine alone.”
 “Yes.” Apollo moaned the word as he reached down and opened his jeans. He lifted his head to see Grayson drop down to his knees in front of him.
“You were made for me.”
Apollo gasped when Grayson leaned forward and deep throated him. He nearly tumbled off the counter, caught off guard by Grayson’s ability to even do something like that. Apollo was no slough in the size department. Not many men could take all of his length.
“Damn, baby,” Apollo groaned, his hands sliding through Grayson’s hair, holding on as he shuddered and savored every second of what the man was doing to his cock.
Grayson pulled back and licked and sucked with genuine enjoyment, making the sloppiest sounds imaginable, hot sexy sounds that drove Apollo insane. When Grayson looked up at him from under his thick, black lashes, all Apollo was able to do was gape at him in amazement.
The man was so goddamn beautiful kneeling in front of him with Apollo’s cock in his mouth.
“Shit!” Apollo shouted when Grayson began to hum around his dick. The vibrations were felt all the way to his toes. Grayson’s tongue flickered over the very tip of Apollo’s cock, sucking in the clear liquid as his lips created a vacuum seal around his shaft, nearly making him come.
Apollo was going to die a very happy man right now.
Grayson murmured Apollo’s name around his cock, sending Apollo into a wild craze. He began to fuck Grayson’s mouth in earnest, feeling the head of his prick sliding down Grayson’s throat over and over again. His thigh muscles quivered, his legs threatening to give out as his balls drew so tight to Apollo’s body that they actually hurt.
Apollo shouted as his back arched, his cock lodging in Grayson’s throat as hot jets of seed were ripped from his balls. White lights exploded behind his eyelids, making him dizzy as hell. His head was throbbing as he settled his body back down.
Apollo was gasping for air, pulling his cock free and praying he wouldn’t fall off the counter. Grayson’s strong hands held him in place as the man stood and leaned down to rest his head in the middle of Apollo’s stomach.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Rabbit Wars by Whitley Gray


After two months in Dubai supervising a construction project, architect Jefferson Fontaine returns home to find his boyfriend boffing the dog walker. Reeling, Jeff grabs his dignity and departs. The arrival of a mysterious wicker box and a letter requesting Jeff’s presence for the reading of a local entrepreneur’s will sends Jeff to his hometown of Crooked Creek, Colorado. The last thing he expects is to encounter an old flame who disappeared fifteen years ago.

After high school, Ashton Eiker hoped to start a future with the boy he loved, but his world crashed when Jeff refused to bring Ash along with him to college. Ash ran from the rejection, but returned to Crooked Creek a year ago, bringing his confectionary talents and opening a chocolate shop. When the great uncle of a childhood friend names Ash in his will, he could hardly anticipate getting a helping of his past in the mix.

Jeff and Ash jointly inherit the historic Jeremiah Rabbit House, and are forced to work together to meet the terms of the will or neither will have the mansion. It’s a battle of opinions, shared personal history, and present attraction, but the true prize isn’t the Rabbit legacy. It's the chance at something better.

Towel wrapped around his hips, Jeff stretched out on the king-size bed, freshly showered, a vodka and tonic on the bedside table. The lofty comforter rose around him in a soft cloud. The rain had turned to snow, and icy flakes ticked against the windows. Another impersonal hotel room decorated in neutral shades--he could be in Dubai or Chile or Canada. Ironic that he got to spend his first night back in the States in a generic hotel.

A hell of a day. He’d had more emotional whiplash than he could take. Arriving home tired but happy. Catching Deak fucking the kid. Disappointment overwritten with duplicity about the job assignments. And through it all, Deak’s betrayal on every level. How much influence had Deak had on Jeff’s assigned duties? How many guys had Deak fucked while Jeff had languished overseas on a job, lonely and homesick?

Jeff shook his head. He’d been so stupid. Blind, really.

It was past midnight, and he hadn’t slept since leaving Dubai; he ought to be exhausted enough to sleep for days, but his mind wouldn’t slow down enough to let him relax. Thinking about sleep had him thinking about sex, which led to thinking about the whole disaster at home again.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He and Deak were history. Done. Strange, but Jeff didn’t feel heartbroken, just humiliated and stupid. If it had been love, shouldn’t he have been in agony? At least shed a few tears? Been willing to talk things out?

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sat up. The best idea would be to eat and then try to get some sleep. Tomorrow he could figure out where to go. After he’d gotten to the room, he’d called three airlines without success. Apparently the young and clueless were all on spring break, filling up flights and hotels everywhere Jeff had considered going. The only available tropical options required a bigger bank account than Jeff’s. Maybe something would open up. His gaze landed on the carry-on. Might as well see what the attorney in Crooked Creek needed this time.

He crossed to the table and found the envelope in the bag. Now that he checked it over, it seemed more like a wedding invitation, creamy paper hand-addressed to him. No one back home would ever invite Jeff to that kind of event. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d been back in the past fifteen years. He tore the envelope open and pulled out a piece of heavy card-stock stationery.

Dear Mr. Fontaine:

In accordance with his last wishes, Dalton Rabbit has instructed me to invite you to a reading of his last will and testament, to take place at a mutually convenient time between yourself and the others invited to the reading. Please contact me when you return to the country, and we can arrange the meeting.

Sincerely, Peter J. Corley, attorney-at-law

A phone number followed. Huh. Pete Corley had taken care of Jeff’s dad’s estate. This was pretty formal compared to those communications. The last-will-and-testament reference...what was that all about? Very odd, but then the Rabbits had been a weird bunch. He’d gone to school with Pete and with Raleigh Rabbit III. Raleigh had lived in the Jeremiah Rabbit house with his mom Kitty and great-uncle Dalton.

Jeremiah Rabbit had been a gold miner who struck it big and built a one-of-a-kind house from a crazy combination of stone, wood, and slate in a mix of several different styles. Designed and constructed in 1890, the old Victorian had been a jewel in her heyday. Unfortunately that heyday had been before Jeff had been born. Still, the place was the reason Jeff had become interested in architecture. As a kid, Jeff had hung out there with Raleigh, back when the Rabbits had maintained the boxwood maze and topiary, the pool, and the shabby but elegant carousel.

He tapped the card on the table and sat in the chair, wrapped in his towel. Was it for sale?

It would make a fabulous project. He could see it now: HISTORIC HOME RESTORED BY TOP ARCHITECT JEFFERSON FONTAINE. Most of the work could be done from a distance, if a contractor supervised locally. It would be a big advance for his career.

It would cost a fortune. Jeff might be comfortable, but he didn’t have that kind of money. And what were the chances the house was on the market? The Rabbits had closed the house up nearly sixteen years ago, but to the best of his knowledge, it had never been sold.

What exactly had old Dalton bequeathed to Jeff? Why did it have to be done in person? Jeff couldn’t just drop everything to attend the reading of the will. But that fit with the Rabbit family’s peculiar ways. And that house... Jeff had loved the place and considered Raleigh to have been a close friend.

Well, the call to Pete would have to wait until Jeff got his life in order. Someone knocked on the door, and Jeff jumped up, heart pounding. The last thing he needed was a confrontation with Deak. But Deak would have no idea where Jeff had gone. Still in his towel, he tiptoed over to the door and looked through the fish-eye. An acne-pocked waiter stood there with a room-service cart.

Jeff threw on a bathrobe and opened the door a crack. “Uh, hey.”

The waiter cocked his head. “Fontaine?”

“Yeah.” The rich scent of grilled fish, warm bread, and coffee rose from the cart, and his stomach growled. God, it smelled wonderful. Jeff opened the door all the way. “Um, go ahead and bring it in.”

Giving Jeff a wary look, the man wheeled the cart to the middle of the room.

“Hang on.” Jeff retrieved his wallet, but the server bolted before Jeff could hand over a few dollars. Strange guy.

Jeff pulled lids off the food: red snapper with mango-lime sauce, grilled asparagus, and wild rice. The first honest-to-God American cuisine he’d seen in months, and the meal looked fabulous.

The first bite of fish tasted like heaven, and he demolished his dinner in fifteen minutes. It might be better for the room-service guy to find the cart in the hall. Jeff wheeled it out the door, parked it against the wall, and shut himself in his room. Now what? TV? Sleep would be the thing to do. He was running on empty.

On the desk, the package had slipped partway out. The mystery box. He picked it up and checked the label. It was addressed to him in unfamiliar curlicue handwriting. When he jiggled it, something shifted inside. He sat on the bed and retrieved his penknife from inside his suitcase. After slitting the tape on one end, he carefully opened the flaps and pulled out the contents.

Huh. An interesting basket that looked like a wicker cigar box: oblong with a hinged top. The lid had an illustration of a winking, bowing white rabbit in parti-color hose and colorful red, green, and blue paisley smock. The picture looked vaguely familiar. He released the catch and hesitated. What if it was something bad? Everything else today had been one insult after another. He locked gazes with the rabbit.

“You have something bad planned, Mr. Hare?”

The rabbit seemed to wink at him. He dropped the box, and it landed on the bed with a soft plop. Holy shit. He’d started to hallucinate. After rubbing his eyes with thumb and forefinger, he checked again. The rabbit didn’t move for the count of ten. Okay. Rolling his shoulders, Jeff flipped open the lid.

On top was a card hand-addressed with his name. He lifted it out, checked the back. Blank. Beneath the card was a trio of foil-wrapped chocolate rabbits nestled in spring-green velvet. The design on the foil made the chocolate rabbits’ outfits resemble that of the one on the top of the box. Judging by the “fur” colors, Jeff had received one each of white, dark, and milk chocolate.

Clothed rabbits... A shiver went down his spine, and he swallowed. These weren’t just any chocolate rabbits. These were White Rabbit Chocolate Company rabbits, made in his hometown of Crooked Creek, Colorado.

Or formerly made. The factory had closed over a decade ago. Had Pete sent these?

Jeff closed his eyes and inhaled. This was definitely fresh chocolate, and the expensive kind. A complex aroma, with cocoa and spices combined with fruit and nuts, as if an artist had taken unlikely ingredients and assembled them into something fabulous and unexpected.

The White Rabbit chocolates Jeff remembered from childhood had been excellent, but not anything like this, not smelling of heaven and exotic locations. Had someone reopened the factory?

Licking his lips, he selected the white-chocolate rabbit. Taking care not to rip the foil, he unwrapped it, held it under his nose like a good cigar, and took a sniff. Satiny white chocolate with hints of honey, hazelnut, and...ginger? He took a bite and let it melt on his tongue.

Definitely ginger--a subtle kick that made him warm all over. Visions of Crooked Creek filled his mind: the festive look of the old brick storefronts downtown lit up by dozens of tiny lights, the pleasure of lounging around the pool with Raleigh, the joy of hiking through the woods.

Funny how the chocolate triggered those thoughts; Jeff hadn’t thought about Raleigh in a long time. He took another nibble, and the sweet, low note of hazelnut came through. He and Raleigh had had some good times. And Ash. Lying on the grass with Ash on a summer night, gazing up at a million stars...

“Tell me something no one else knows about you,” Ash whispered.

Jeff stared up at the October night sky. The stars were scattered like backlit diamonds on dark velvet. “Like what?”

“Your deepest, darkest secret.” Ash cuddled a little closer, and Jeff pulled the blanket up around them.

There was no way Jeff could reveal the worst secret, not even to Ash. Jeff couldn’t wrap his mind around the fear, let alone confess it. Instead he tilted his head and kissed Ash full on the mouth. As usual, Ash tasted like peppermint gum and dark chocolate. “You,” Jeff whispered. “You’re my secret.”

Ash broke the kiss with a snort. “Raleigh knows.”

“Not everything.”

“He can guess.”

Jeff claimed Ash’s mouth and shifted half on top of him, silencing him.

There had never been anyone else like Ash.

That was ancient history. Regret curled in Jeff’s stomach. He didn’t want to think about Ash. In two bites Jeff finished the chocolate. The honey-and-gingered chocolate tickled his tongue.

He could go to Crooked Creek. He hadn’t been there for eighteen months, hadn’t shown up when he should have, thanks to work. After he’d missed the funeral three months ago, it hadn’t seemed urgent. But now...if Pete could round up the others for the reading, this would be a good time for Jeff to get his dad’s estate in order as long as he was in town. Scoring plane tickets for Denver would be easier than wangling short-notice passage for somewhere tropical.

A sense of calm settled over him. This felt right. He’d call Pete and arrange the meeting as soon as possible. Gazing at the wicker box, he ran his thumb over the fancy-dressed rabbit. Maybe he would go hiking by the old factory. Or camping or fishing. Hell, he could pan for gold if he wanted to. He could spend his entire vacation in Crooked Creek.

Jeff had plenty else to do there too. His dad’s death had left work in its wake.

Monday, March 17, 2014

Paws, Claws, and their Triple-F by Ellen Cross

Paws, Claws, and their Triple-F


 Farron had been a bad boy...a playboy, who blamed his lack of connection to another, on Fate.  But Fate has a twisted sense of humour and a special place for those who damn her, as her bitch, and she had a spot all marked out with Farron’s name on it. Tasked with fixing Fate’s screw-ups and helping those who have missed their moment to connect with their soul-mate, the pain of knowing he will never have that for himself is almost more than he can bear. But he does so, with a smile for each couple he unites. That is until he meets an untouched little man who makes him want to curse fate all over again, Ben. No matter how much he wishes it wasn’t so, Ben isn’t for him, though. He’s destined for another, Mason.
    Mason fled Tasmania like the devil was on his heels, and it was. Tasmanian devil shifters, that is. As the only submissive devil shifter born, he is driven away, smuggling himself in the boot of a car aboard a ferry to the mainland, to escape the constant physical abuse at the hands of other male devils, over territorial rights. Alone and destitute, his life hits rock bottom as each day his life seeps away a little more. When a gorgeous dingo shifter shows up claiming to be his Fairy Father with promises of bringing him to his mate, Mason could have cried. Not in joy, but in grief. It seems fate has screwed up yet Mason’s time has just run out


Thursday, March 13, 2014

In Distress by Katey Hawthorne

Coming 03.25.14

Hopeless romantic Eddie Kim acts out his favorite 'rescued by the white knight' fantasies through weekly D&D campaigns, but had almost given up hope of ever getting a real one. Then Callum, a mysterious red-head with freezing superpowers and a memorable kiss, saves him from a house but disappears without a trace. Taking pity on him, Eddie's friends look to craiglist to relocate his hero.

Unfortunately, the publicity brings down the kind of attention Callum Race been trying to avoid; he's in town to try and clear his family name, and now the dangerous superpowered organization he needs to thwart know he's come home again. Still, he can't help following up with Eddie.

The heat between Callum and Eddie flares instantly, and Eddie insists on helping to undo the damage his romantic notions have done. The problem: that will mean becoming embroiled in a nefarious plot, not to mention a superpowered world Eddie didn't even know existed a week ago. The 'bad guys' will try to trick and use him, and in the meantime he has to convince Cal to trust him enough to be the white knight for once--and for real--instead of the perpetual damsel in distress.

“This could all be a lie,” he insisted. “I could be some kind of…of nutjob, just coming in here with wild stories to—”
“Well, the superpowers are real, and that’s the nuttiest part.” I tapped his frosty glass.
“No,” he said again, this time drawn out and fixing me with that intense, cold look again.
On impulse, I reached out and touched his cheek. Cold, but not as much as I expected. His skin was soft and pale against mine, and his jaw tightened slightly beneath my fingers. “Why?” I asked, brushing back toward his ear. “What are they going to do? Kill me?”
His eyes had gone wide with surprise, his mouth hanging open just a little. He licked his lips and looked at mine. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t put it past them, though. That’s why—”
But there comes a certain point in a conversation when you realize you’re just chasing each other’s tails round and round. His mouth looked so good like that, all wet and open and delicious. I’d had just enough to drink to lean in and press mine against it.
That, at least, did not seem to surprise him. I could’ve sworn he even leaned in a little to meet me, and he definitely tilted his head before we made it to the kiss. This time I paid better attention; his lips were cold on the outside but warmed quickly against mine, and when I slipped my tongue past his teeth, he was hot inside.
I was buzzing on him, not the bourbon, but he closed it off gently. “This is crazy,” he whispered. “I know this is crazy. I’m so sorry.”
“Just shut up, okay?” I kissed him again, this time more deliberately. Then, into his mouth, “Shut up, and make out with me for like a half hour, and then you can talk all you want.”
“You…you don’t owe me anything.”
I moved nearer, pressing him into the back of the couch and turning to face him completely, so one leg was thrown over his lap and the other was curled up beneath me. “Protip: Don’t insult the guy who’s kissing you, okay? You liked kissing me. I liked kissing you. You’ve been looking at me like you just crawled out of a desert and I’m a glass of water. I’ve thought about it for weeks now. I want to do it again. Do you?” I leaned forward and pressed my lips into the soft spot just beneath his jaw, felt his pulse. Now he was warm. Not as much as me, but getting there.
His breath caught when my teeth gave a little scrape. He said, “Y-yeah.”
I kissed him hard enough that my upper lip squashed into my teeth and hurt a little—and it was a thrill. I threaded my arm around his shoulders and scratched my fingertips through the short hair at the back of his head, then tickled down his neck before starting it all over again. He made a small sound, something like surprise and relief tangled up in his throat. It was hard to say if his temperature was finally rising or if it was just mine; my blood was definitely feeling hot, though, that fast.
Nothing was working out how it was supposed to. I’d just wanted to find my white knight and live happily ever after, but instead I’d ratted him out to the bad guys. Either that, or I was making out with a delusional psychopath—and I was delusional too because, well, superpowers.
But all of that was out of my control now. Not this. This, I could do. It was going to be perfect, the best make-out session ever, and we were going to forget everything for a little while and just enjoy it. And he was going to love it so much that afterward, he’d be talked into letting me help make things right.