Sunday, March 22, 2015

THE VAMPIRE’S ASSISTANT by Stormy Glenn

Saturday, March 14, 2015

You in my Arms by A.C. KATT

 Blurb
Jason's priorities are non-negotiable: take care of his sister; keep a roof over their heads; go back to school eventually. Can one club owner make it easier to uphold his priorities and maybe add him to the list?

Jason Monroe had to leave school to be the guardian of his sister Kitty when his dad and step-mom die in a car crash. He's working two jobs to keep them afloat, but their boat is leaking much like the roof of their old house. Jason doesn't have time for love that is until Zach Montgomery, the owner of the Sunset Club, the premier gay club on the Jersey Shore comes calling.

COMING 03.20.15

http://www.mlrbooks.com/upcoming.php

Excerpt
 
To Zach’s amazement, Jason’s casual announcement of his virginal status sent him from half hard to ramrod stiff in two seconds flat. I am so going to tap that ass…What’s up with that? Deflowering virgins was not something he was prone to do. Too much time in preparation and then there was the soothing and cuddling they expected afterward. No, virgins were not for him. I don’t fuck virgins. But this guy had him both curious and aroused enough to disregard his rule and get himself one gorgeous virgin’s company for the rest of the night. He’d deflower that ass three or four times tonight.
Zach never had to troll for bed partners; they came to him. However, Jason pushed all of his buttons. He’d looked good from the end of the bar, up close he looked even better. An athletic build—he heard something about soccer champions—broad shoulders and the gorgeous light brown curly hair that he wanted to run his fingers through and a pair of sparkling hazel eyes. Add in the a six-pack visible through his tight T-shirt, the strong, muscled limbs, and the full bottom lip made to pout—his dream man sat beside him on the barstool. Jason’s refusal and his reference to a four-year-old made him even more compelling. I have to get this guy’s story. Zach saw that Jason needed to lean against the bar for stability. “Your friend said you bartend on weekends?”
****
 “Yeah, so…” Jason hoped he wasn’t babbling.
“Are you any good?”
Now his pride started talking without his conscious permission. “Last Saturday I was the only bartender on duty, two others called in sick, everyone got served, and no one complained.” And that was the only reason he got out tonight.
“Where do you work?”
“The Ocean View Bar in Point Pleasant.” Jason answered. It was common knowledge that the Ocean View was a busy bar, nothing like this, but very busy.
“They only get the college frat boys looking to hook up with a girl. They don’t tip well because they have no money and they only drink cheap beer. I usually get a more sophisticated crowd with money to burn, and they’re your kind of folk,” Zach told him bragging a bit.
“Your point is?” Jason was holding on to the bar in order to stand up straight.
****
“If you won’t take me up on my offer for a fuck, maybe I could offer you a job then fuck you later. You’re hot and my customers like hot. I pay minimum wage plus tips and since this is a gay club, there are endless possibilities for your first shot.” Zach didn’t know why that came out of his mouth.
He wanted first shot at tapping this boy’s ass, but he’d have more of a chance of getting that shot if they became better acquainted. He’d already told him that he didn’t do relationships but maybe he’d like to fuck that ass more than once. It was a very nice ass, high and muscled under the tight 501s. Despite the worn T-shirt and almost white with wear jeans, he looked like a class act.
 

photo
Mary Lynn Hansel
Author, Gay RomanceWriting as AC Katt
 
 
 

Rock Star Baby (Bad Oak Boys #1) by Erin M. Leaf

Rock Star Baby (Bad Oak Boys #1) — by Erin M. Leaf now available!

~Amazon and ARe BESTSELLER~

Gay Romance, Shifters, Paranormal, Erotic Romance
Word Count: 51,595
Heat Level: 4
Published By: Evernight Publishing
ISBN: 9781772332773
pages: 150


buy links: EvernightAmazon AReBookStrand – Smashwords
Ryan Oakley, lead singer of Bad Oak and heartthrob extraordinaire, isn’t looking for a girlfriend. He’s definitely not looking for a boyfriend, but after the explosive encounter he has with a guy he meets backstage, he realizes he’s more flexisexual than he’d thought. Of course, suddenly being able to shift into a wolf is an unexpected side effect he didn’t expect and can barely control.
Bardulf Forst is Alpha-Heir to his pack, but he can’t resist his little sister when she begs him to meet Ryan Oakley. When he realizes the sexy singer is his mate, he can’t deny instinct. He claims the famous rock star even though he knows his father won’t approve: heirs are supposed to have children and two males can’t reproduce.
Little do they know that they’re about to experience an ancient shifter biological imperative: when two male Alphas mate, unexpected miracles sometimes happen.
**MPREG ROMANCE**
Story Excerpt:
Bardulf liked Ryan Oakley, a lot, and he usually didn’t like humans all that much. He didn’t dislike them; he just preferred not to get tangled up in too much humanity. It was dangerous for shifters and humans to mingle. However, his wolf liked Ryan Oakley, and that was downright disturbing. All his instincts screamed mine at him every time he glanced at the singer.
What the fuck was going on? He took a deep breath, letting the scent of the man tease at him. Ryan smelled like wood and wire and all the stuff that goes along with playing a finely crafted electric instrument, with an added little touch of “bad boy” flavor on top. Ryan smelled like someone he already knew, as if his essence had been hardwired into Bardulf’s psyche, and that was incredibly fucked up. His wolf growled softly at him, prodding him into moving closer.
“If you don’t want to do the kissing thing, I’m okay with that,” he offered quietly.
Ryan’s eyes widened a fraction. Bardulf watched the man’s pupils expand until the black almost swallowed the bright whiskey brown irises. He ached to run his hands through Ryan’s tousled dark hair. It just touched the man’s shoulders. It looked like sable. Jesus, he had it bad. He wanted to adjust his cock, but figured that would be a serious tell and he couldn’t afford to spook the human.
“No, that’s okay. It’s fine.” Ryan smiled, though it seemed a tad forced to Bardulf. “Especially if your sister insists on it. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of any kind of sibling rift.”
If he only knew it wasn’t Faylen who is insisting on a kiss, Bardulf thought as he swallowed his wolf back. He’d perfected control over the years, with a lot of hard work. He’d had to learn to harness his beast, ever since he’d realized he was an Alpha, and therefore twice as dangerous as an ordinary werewolf. He would not act like a wild puppy. He also wasn’t going to dance around this situation like a teenager for much longer. If Ryan said he was willing to give up a kiss, then Bardulf was going to take the invitation. He stepped close enough to feel Ryan’s warmth. “If you’re certain, I’m not going to turn you down.”
Ryan licked his lips. “Yeah.” His voice cracked. “I’m sure. Go for it.” He lifted his chin. “We’ve got fifteen minutes before the rest of the guys come in for the meet and greet and general picture taking.”
Bardulf looked at him. Ryan was a hair taller than he was, and just as muscular, not that it mattered one bit. Weres were stronger than humans. He could rip Ryan’s throat out in the time it took for the musician to blink. But you wouldn’t do that to your mate, a voice in the back of his head said. Bardulf’s heart tripped at the thought. Fucking hell, he thought, mouth suddenly dry as a desert. Mate? Ryan was human.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Ryan asked him.
Bardulf didn’t have the heart to tell him that instead of a kiss, he suddenly wanted a bite. He wanted to claim Ryan as his own. His wolf howled in his head and the tips of his fingers prickled as he took a deep breath and forced his body to obey his will. He would not fucking shift here.
“Okay, fine. If you’re getting cold feet, I’ll take care of it,” Ryan murmured, stepping close and grabbing Bardulf’s biceps. He wasn’t gentle about it, and that just made his wolf like the man even more. Bardulf steeled himself, and then Ryan’s lips were on his.
Soft. Sweet, Bardulf thought, and then his wolf growled. Mine.
Ryan gasped as Bardulf slid his fists into his hair and deepened the kiss. He licked inside, chasing Ryan’s taste. He had to get closer. He needed more. Ryan shuddered and kissed him back, fingers tightening to the point of pain on Bardulf’s arms. Bardulf didn’t care. His wolf liked it. He slid a thigh between Ryan’s legs and shoved. Ryan stumbled back and Bardulf followed until they hit the wall, and then he had to come up for air.
“Fucking hell,” Ryan whispered, lips wet and red as he stared at Bardulf.
Bardulf agreed. Mate, his wolf rumbled.
****
Ryan couldn’t breathe right. He also couldn’t move, not with Bardulf’s leg thrust between his and rubbing in the perfect spot, right up against his dick. He wasn’t sure he wanted to move. Instead of struggling, he grabbed Bardulf’s face and drew the man in again, kissing him harshly. If he was going to turn gay in a fraction of an instant, he was going to fucking enjoy it as much as possible. The stubble on Bardulf’s jaw scraped over his palms, and he shivered, liking that more than he ought to. Although, when have I ever done what I was supposed to do? he thought, licking into Bardulf’s mouth eagerly.
Bardulf didn’t resist. Instead, he shoved closer, pushing Ryan into the cinderblock wall hard enough so that he could feel every goddamn inch of his muscled body. The sensation of Bardulf’s heart thundering against his own was only vaguely reassuring.
“What the fuck is happening?” he managed to ask, in between kisses that resembled bites more than anything else at this point. Bardulf smelled amazing—better than any other lover he’d ever had. And he’d had a lot, before his self-imposed moratorium last year. He’d decided he didn’t want another random hookup because those encounters always left him feeling empty, but Bardulf didn’t make him feel like that. He smelled sort of familiar, like he already knew the man. The scent was something like a forest mixed with hot steel. Wild and fucking impossible. This wasn’t a kiss. This was fuck-at-first-sight. Something he swore he’d never do.
“Fuck,” Bardulf growled as if he were reading Ryan’s mind. He tightened his fingers in Ryan’s hair hard enough to hurt.
After only sort of catching his breath, Ryan barked a laugh. “Yeah, no. There isn’t enough time for fucking, hot stuff.” But he wanted to. Oh, God, he wanted to. And isn’t that just fucking ridiculous, when you always thought you were a straight boy? he asked himself incredulously. He felt as if some wild proto-human instinct had risen up inside his body and taken over. You don’t know the first thing about fucking a dude, anyway, so get a grip, Ryan.
Instead of replying, Bardulf kissed him again, then scraped his teeth down Ryan’s neck, pausing to bite gently on the tendon between his shoulder and jaw. He froze like that, breathing heavily. The warmth of his mouth on his skin nearly put Ryan over the edge.

--
Erin M. Leaf
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

--

MATE CHALLENGE By Stormy Glenn & Olivia Black

MATE CHALLENGE
King’s Command 5
By Stormy Glenn & Olivia Black
Coming March 12th
By the King’s Command…
When the high council orders a mate challenge in his name, King Críostóir is furious. There is only one dragon he wants as his mate. But in order to have the man he’s loved for years, he’ll need to enter his own mate challenge as one of the contestants. 
Trust doesn’t come easy for Kurgan. Only one man has ever held his loyalty. When a mate challenge is ordered, Kurgan is enraged until he arrives and discovers one of the contestants is the man he has had an on again off again affair with, and then he is enraged. If he beats his lover then he becomes the king’s consort. If he loses, he loses the man he loves.
When an attack comes and the mate challenge canceled, the truth King Críostóir has kept from Kurgan for over twenty years is revealed. Despite the betrayal burning in Kurgan’s eyes, King Críostóir must depend on the dragon to help him save his kingdom, and hope Kurgan will listen to him if they survive.
http://www.bookstrand.com/mate-challenge

STORY EXCERPT
Your presence is requested…
King Críostóir looked from the parchment to his advisor and back again in stunned disbelief. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. It seemed that the council was enforcing the mate challenge rule. Since taking over as king, Críostóir had done everything his father’s advisors suggested in an effort to make the change of leadership smooth for his people. But, he was met with opposition at every turn. Not only were his people in a state of unrest, but it seemed his enemies thought this was the perfect opportunity to attack.
He might not want to be king, but he refused to be dethroned. He wouldn’t allow anyone to take his position or his crown. Críostóir would fight. He had already done everything he could to insure that his borders were strengthened by bonding the dragon leaders with the human leaders. They had been able to repel all invaders so far.
And yet, the council still wasn’t satisfied. If he had his way, Críostóir would remove each council member from their positions and send them packing. He was just as tired of their interference as his father had been. Unfortunately, they seemed to be a necessary evil.
The normal one month celebration period that most new kings enjoyed had been turned into a yearlong odyssey for Críostóir due to the fact that his older brother had been trained to be king and not him. The council wanted to give him time to learn the laws and grow used to wearing the crown. If all fared well, he would officially take the crown one year from when his father died. Until then, he was on a bizarre form of royal probation.
“Is this supposed to be a joke?”
“No, sire.” His advisor bowed his head respectfully. “This is the way things are done. Now that each territory is secure, you need to find a mate. It’s the only way...”
“The only way to…?” He stared at the man waiting for him to finish his thoughts.
“It’s the only way your people will continue to follow your command, sire. It’s the only way to secure your position. You need a mate and an heir. It will give the impression that you’ve settled down and that you are mature enough to take the position from your father.”
“I was chosen by my father to be his heir. This wasn’t my decision. I’ve given you a lot of leeway since you were my father’s advisor and he respected you but this”—Críostóir balled up the parchment paper and tossed it across the room—“isn’t happening. I will not choose a mate based on an archaic ritual.”
“Unfortunately, you cannot change this particular law, Your Majesty. It was created centuries ago when our kingdom was in a great period of unrest. Many have tried to change it, but it’s impossible.”
Críostóir scoffed at the idea he couldn’t change one lousy law. If there was a way to change it, he was going to be the one to do it. He was the king, after all. If he couldn’t change the laws, what good was he?
The law was archaic at best, outdated and overdue for a change. How could anyone be expected to find a mate based on a challenge? Men competing to become his lover, it was ridiculous. The strongest man could win and still be a horrible choice for him and his kingdom. Críostóir refused to be mated to someone he didn’t choose.
The advisor continued, “The summons have already been sent out, Your Majesty. Two men will arrive from each territory, one human and one dragon, within the next two days.”
“The council expects me to find a mate from these men?” Críostóir raised a brow. Would the council really accept someone of a lower station to serve the court by Críostóir’s side? “Anyone? Their status doesn’t matter? The council will accept the winner without question.”
“Yes, sire. Current social standings do not matter in a mate challenge. All the men will compete in various challenges. It’s not solely based on physical strength or mental aptitude. It’s a combination of many trials. There will be a point system and the winner will become your mate.”
Leaning back against his throne, Críostóir blew out an aggravated breath. It didn’t seem as though he had any options. He had to fulfill his father’s last wish and become king. His older brother wasn’t an option, and his father had known it for ages. Críostóir adored his brother and understood his father’s decision, accepted it.
He had always had a close relationship with his father. The former king was one of the only men that Críostóir confided in. If only his father were here now, Críostóir would ask for his advice and guidance. He wouldn’t let his father down, not now.
“What are the conditions of this mate challenge?” He wanted to know how much wiggle room he had to work with.
“According to the ancient law, one dragon and one human from each of the kingdom’s territories must be summoned to participate in the mate challenge. They are to be given tests to insure the strongest and the wisest is chosen to mate with the king.”
“And that is all the law says?”
“Yes, sire.”
Perfect.
“I will agree to the mate challenge on two conditions.”
“Yes, sire.”
“There will be one winner from each territory, human or dragon does not matter. That includes this territory.”
“Sire?”
“You’ve sent out summons to the territories to the West, North, East, and South. You need to include the center of our kingdom.”
Surprisingly, the advisor grinned. “Yes, sir.”
“I want a warrior named Kurgan to be notified. He will be the dragon chosen from our kingdom to compete. I also want the council to understand that winning the challenge does not guarantee that I will choose the winner to be my mate. I will choose the best person for the position from those participating, both as my mate and my royal consort. Also, the winner needs to agree to be my mate without coercion from anyone. I will not mate with an unwilling man. I will not tie someone to me that doesn’t want to be my mate. I won’t doom us both to a lifetime of misery.”

ADULT EXCERPT
“Hello, Kurgan.”
Círan put down his belongings and Kurgan rushed him, wrapping his arms around the only man he’d ever loved. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“It’s good to see you again,” Círan replied.
Hearing Círan’s voice was a soothing balm to his soul. How long had he been hoping and praying to see the man again? Their relationship had been a secret that lasted years. Whenever they were in the same territory the heat and attraction between them was instantly sparked and Kurgan found himself falling back into bed with the handsome man. No promises were ever made, but Kurgan wanted the other man to know how much he meant even if the two of them couldn’t be together.
Kurgan reluctantly let go of Círan.
Stepping back, he allowed himself the pleasure of looking the other man up and down, inspecting his form. Círan stood at six foot four inches with golden eyes and black hair. He looked exactly the same, even after years of separation. In his mind, Kurgan had always been able to conjure up Círan’s image. But over time, it seemed that his memory hadn’t been able to do the man justice.
Círan was breathtaking.
“Gods…” Kurgan breathed out. He shook his head still unable to believe that the man was really standing before him.
Círan grinned, flashing a line of straight white teeth. “I’ve missed you.”
Kurgan cupped Círan’s face with his hand. He knew that he should stop and have a conversation, but he couldn’t control himself. Lifting the man’s face, Kurgan leaned down and connected their lips. Nothing else mattered. Kurgan needed to taste Círan more than he needed his next breath. Círan seemed to melt into Kurgan as their bodies connected. His chest met Círan’s and Kurgan cursed, wishing they were naked. 
Kurgan moved his hands, caressing and touching, as he moved his fingers. He gripped the bottom of Círan’s tunic and pulled up. He disconnected their lips for only a moment, long enough to remove the tunic and toss it to the ground, before reconnecting their lips in a passionate kiss. Kurgan tilted Círan’s head back, giving him better access to the man’s mouth, before pushing his tongue between Círan’s lips.
Kurgan groaned when Círan’s tongue met his, dancing and swirling. Moving one hand to the back of Círan’s head, he dropped the other to the man’s ass, gripping the muscled flesh still hidden behind the material of his pants. He pulled Círan closer, forcing their straining erections to touch. When Círan moaned and started moving his hips, Kurgan grinned. It was always the same between them. Hot and erotic.
It didn’t seem to matter how much time passed, they easily fell into the same routine as if there was no separation at all.
Kurgan dropped his hands and pulled the string that kept Círan’s pants up. One hard tug and the material fell away.
“Gods above,” Círan whispered.
“Mmm…” Kurgan licked his lips, tasting Círan. “I want to feel you around my cock.” Kurgan wrapped his palm around Círan’s hard dick and the man bucked, fucking his hand in wild strokes. “Bed. Now.”
Kurgan needed space for what he hand planned. He didn’t want to abandon his lover, but the two single beds wouldn’t be enough. Dropping his hand, Kurgan immediately started pushing the beds together. When he was satisfied, Kurgan turned back toward his lover. Círan stood gloriously naked, a big smile on his face.
“Come here, baby.” Kurgan rarely used endearments, but with Círan he couldn’t seem to help himself. He wanted to caress and love. He wanted an infinite amount of time to taste and kiss. It always seemed like they were under some sort of time limit before the next call of duty. Today though, Kurgan planned to take his time. He didn’t give a damn about the mate challenge. They could start without him.
Círan strode toward him and Kurgan sat down on the edge of the bed. He touched Círan’s hips, moving his hands up, down, and around. The man’s skin was soft and warm against his calloused hands. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You always say that.”
“That’s because it’s the truth.” Kurgan touched every inch of flesh he could reach, purposely ignoring the cock begging for attention. When a pearly drop of pre-cum bubbled from the head of Círan’s dick, Kurgan leaned forward and licked it up.
“Please!” Círan shouted out, his hips rocking forward.
Kurgan understood the plea. It had been a long damn time since they had been together. Not wanting to punish them both of another second, Kurgan gripped Círan’s hips and wrapped his mouth around the man’s cock. Having Círan’s needy cock in his mouth made Kurgan moan. He inhaled Círan’s masculine scent through his nose and became light headed.
“Kurgan…Kurgan…Kurgan…” Círan chanted his name like a prayer. Kurgan wrapped his forked tongue around Círan’s dick as he sucked. “Ah…ah…ah…” erotic, nonsensical sounds spilled from Círan’s lips spurring him on.
Kurgan’s mouth was full. He swallowed, taking the entire length down his throat. Círan shoved his fingers through Kurgan’s hair and gripped the strands as he started moving his hips, fucking Kurgan’s mouth. Kurgan opened wide, allowing Círan to do whatever he wanted.
“I’m gonna…” that was the only warning he received before Círan came down his throat.
Pulling back, Kurgan licked and kissed Círan’s shaft. He stared at Círan. With his mouth open and cheeks flushed, the man was entirely too sexy. He was everything Kurgan had ever wanted in a lover. Having Círan back made Kurgan’s heart yearn for something he couldn’t have, a long term relationship. They had discussed it before, but each time came to the same conclusion. Their family obligations were too great and stood in their way.
“I thought you were going to fuck me,” Círan said, breaking the silence.
Kurgan raised a brow and grinned wickedly. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Driven by Fire by Draven St. James

COMING SOON!

Blurb

Taber Delane is lucky be alive, but his career as a firefighter ended the day a beam snapped resulting in a crushing spinal injury. Most of his friends are willing to give him space, everyone except paramedic, Deacon Hall.
Deacon hasn't met a challenge he couldn't tackle and he knows Taber needs someone in his corner who isn't afraid to stand up to the big bad fireman. The longer he’s around Taber, the more the sexy vulnerability of the man comes through. Deacon finds he doesn’t just want to be Taber’s live in caregiver, he wants a chance at the passionate man beneath the stubborn shell.
A shell that is cracking, no matter what Taber tries to hold it together. Without knowing how, Deacon being in his home starts to open his eyes to the man Deacon hides from the rest of the world and Taber craves to know more. A lot more.
Now if only Deacon can get Taber to see that it isn't so bad having him there to assist. Even if sometimes Taber is naked, dripping wet, and angry as hell. 

Excerpt
“You’re not giving me a sponge bath,” Taber snapped and glowered at Deacon as he wheeled himself into the locker bay. The sweat ran down his temples, his shirt soaked through with it. He took in his motionless legs and grimaced before shooting Deacon another irritated look.
Deacon sat with his feet on one of the peeling dark blue benches, his back reclined against a bank of gray lockers along the far wall in the physical therapy building. A book was balanced on his knees, and black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His shaggy auburn hair fell to curl around his ears in disarray.
Deacon peered at him with pale green eyes. “There go my dreams of rubbing you down and tweeting the pics.” He gave him a wry grin, closed his book, and shoved it into a bag on the floor before Taber could get a good look at what the title was.
“Why are you here?” Taber retrieved some clothes from his locker. He breathed in the stale scent of perspiration and musk. It’d become a familiar smell to him since his physical therapy had begun four months prior. The dingy concrete floors and grunts of exertion from the workout room were an ordinary part of life.
“Stephen called me,” Deacon replied and stood. He was tall, a bit on the lanky side, a quality emphasized by the overly baggy khaki pants paired with a hideous T-shirt of some random band Taber had never heard of.
“Why?” Taber tugged his shirt off, grabbed the clean one, and jerked it over his head.
The shower would have to wait until he got home. He had no desire to shower with Deacon nearby. The guy lived to pull pranks, and the laughter that resulted kept him from any negative ramifications from the outrageous stunts. Taber had been certain Mica, a fellow fireman, would kill Deacon when he had switched Mica’s bodywash with bronzer, turning the man into an orange giant for the week. Yet the guys just laughed it off. And when Deacon had shaved the Superman symbol on Dale’s chest after a drunken night at a bar, Dale had just adopted a new hero nickname. All the mischief had occurred during the time Taber had been in the hospital, and Deacon had made a point of relaying every detail. Taber was not going to give the mischief maker a chance to put him in the hot seat.
“It seems you have scared away your caregiver,” Deacon responded with one raised mocking brow.
Taber exhaled loudly. “Of course I did. She kept trying to see if my equipment worked.” The experience wasn’t something he wanted to relive. He cringed. The likelihood of his bits and pieces standing and taking notice of a woman were slim to none.
“Does it?” Deacon asked, his gaze zeroing in on Taber’s lap.
Taber snagged his gym bag, blocking Deacon’s view. “If you’re asking about how much sensation I have below the waist, that’s none of your damn business.”
“What you’re saying is it works, then?” Deacon hauled on his backpack.
“Are you done avoiding my original question?” Taber persisted.
“I’m here because you’ve gone through all the caregivers in the area willing to deal with your shit, so being the amazing friend I am, I’ll be moving in,” Deacon announced with a flourish.
“Hell no, you won’t,” Taber exclaimed, shock and horror rushing through him.
“It’s me or Handsy Sally.” Deacon wiggled his fingers. “Your call. Just know this: my job obligations will not involve checking if the pump down south still functions, so don’t try anything.”

--
Draven St. James


Monday, March 2, 2015

A Gorgeous Mess by Layla Wolfe

Four wheels move the body. Two wheels move the soul.
ANSON: I was just a mercenary back from fighting the good fight overseas. I was on a quest for my father, my roots, looking for answers. Turk Blackburn, Bent Zealots MC Prez, ordered me on a fresh operation to prove myself, my guts, my valor. Infiltrate the Navajo Rez and find out who is claiming the Zealots’ turf, using kids to cook drugs.

My partner is the famous badge slut, Ormond Tangier, known far and wide for his mad oral skills, his subservience to anyone in uniform. Mercenaries don’t wear badges, but my dominant side soon has me all over that seductive Spanish servant. A man may as well have a few laughs while on a fatal mission. Because these things never end pleasantly.

ORMOND: I was flung into a life-or-death battle against the slimy Iceman, leader of a rival MC. Iceman is running all sorts of questionable ops on Bent Zealots land, and now Anson and I have to prove our street creds just to stake a claim in our own backyard. I’m a friend of cops, firemen, and soldiers alike, but suddenly I only want one man ordering me around. Anson Dineyazzie, macho half-breed hired gun, has stolen more than just my heart. This was never supposed to happen.

ANSON: I swear I’m never falling for that service bottom Ormond. I’m accomplishing this op and going back to Afghanistan. But I have to wrest control of this Rez land from Iceman and the lethal hit man who has been trailing us. I’d bury anyone who got between me and Ormond. Does that mean I’m in love? God, I hope not. Don’t think I can take that again. Just need to get back onto the open road and blow the dust from my soul.

Excerpt
Leaving the restaurant, Ormond casually started walking at my side. I felt like a fucking nozzle for having ignored him—after all, we had been partners working on this case up until now. We had found the pot and had the sit-down with Iceman. We worked well together. I liked Ormond’s style. I was just so deathly afraid that someone, Rover probably, would be able to tell by the way we looked at each other. “Ormond had sucked Anson’s prick. And more than once.” After all. I was a military man with a take-charge attitude. Exactly Ormond’s type.

“After this job, are you coming to sleep in my guest room again?”
Terror struck at my heart. I glanced around to see who had heard Ormond’s words. “No. Don’t talk to me. I’ll finish up this job and go home.”

I strode to my bike even faster, but as usual, Ormond kept a dogged pace with me. “I thought we had a lot of fun together in our future, Anson.”

Rolling my eyes, I muttered, “Eyreh be afass seder emmak.” My dick in your mother’s rib cage. I stopped walking to explain to him. “Look, buddy. We had some laughs and that’s it. I didn’t think you were the kind of guy who wanted anything more, anyway. You seriously need to get some self-respect and stop putting out for just any Tom, Dick, and Sergeant Harry who drives along in a patrol car. In the straight biker world, no one wants an old lady who has been fender fluff for every brother in his club. No one wants a sweetbutt who has been a pass-around. She’ll never be anyone’s old lady. You recognize?”

The hurt, stunned look in his eyes shocked me into wakefulness. My jaw dropped and I automatically raised my hands to take him by the shoulders. His injured expression had almost made me forget where I was. Almost.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said in his thick, lilting Spanish accent. “I’m sorry you think I’m as disposable as every other lay you’ve ever had in a back fucking alley in Afghanistan or Iraq. And for your fucking information. I haven’t hooked up with any brother in any club. My wish is for upstanding, moral men who wear uniforms. And I thought you were one.”
I was so fucking shocked, it was Ormond who stalked away angrily first. A couple brothers looked sideways at us, but everyone was dead set on the mission, so no one stopped.

I straddled my ride in a daze. How the fuck did Ormond come to know about back alleys in Afghanistan? He was probably just assuming that. It was obvious to any cocksucker that I’d been around the proverbial block when it came to, well, having my dick sucked. It pissed me off that I was so easy to read. Ormond had made my eyes cross with lust, he’d played me like a fiddle, and now I was putting up a wall to shut him out. I was just surprised that he wanted more from me. I didn’t see a bottom like him ever wanting more than a brief, hot hookup. Guys like him lived for the temporary thrill of Grindr, the hot, bruising fucks in anonymous apartments. Why? What was it about me that broke Ormond’s mold?