Sexy Saturday Snippets: First Kisses

And Now for Something Completely Different

I thought we'd celebrate Saturday with a couple of sexy snippets from three different books and then give a couple of books away at the end of the day...so here we go with today's rules. Read the three excerpts, and then leave me a comment with your name, email, and which book you'd like to have if your name is selected. We'll go with three winners today...

Highland Shift (Highland Destiny, Book 1)

Elena MacFarland wonders what everyone else knows about her new farm that she doesn't, and whether she'll live long enough to find out. Betrayed by her fiancé and the powerful Worthington family, Elena fights back and negotiates a comfortable settlement with one small caveat: she must live in Scotland for two years. One kidnapping and two attempts on her life later, the darkly arrogant Scot, Faolan MacGailtry declares himself her new protector and moves into her farmhouse. Major problem? He was present at all three incidents. Elena decides to follow the adage to keep her friends close and enemies closer--but which is he? One by one, Elena uncovers Faolan's darkest secrets: his Druid heritage, his connection to her past, and finally, the deadly curse that is powerful enough to destroy them both.

The Excerpt:

Elena was physically exhausted from the travel and emotionally drained from the humiliation of her story. After talking for what seemed like hours, she’d certainly told Faolan enough to make a personal connection. Would that be enough for him to let her go? Elena kept her eyes on the road, but she sensed his gaze on her. They didn’t speak again except for his terse directions once they arrived in Inverness. 

Elena tried to sort through her muddled thoughts. Somewhere along the way, she’d forgotten to think of him as a kidnapper. After all, he now knew more about her than anyone else in Scotland. More than anyone, anywhere, really. When she saw the Hilton right in front of them, she realized he’d seen her safely to her destination. She pulled to the curb, but Faolan stared into the rain, his expression unfathomable. 

She watched her traitorous hand as it reached up to gently touch his face, “Are you okay?” The moment Elena touched his face, a bolt of electricity shot up her arm and coursed through her body, straight to her core. Her breath caught in her throat, and her gaze lingered on his firm, luscious lips. If he kissed her she knew she’d be lost forever. At that thought, Elena’s lips parted and she unconsciously wet them with the tip of her tongue, an invitation as old as the ages. 

Faolan turned to face her, a fierce, haunted look in his eyes. Then his expression changed to something hungrier and need seemed to smolder between them. “Elena,” he whispered hoarsely. Then his mouth was on hers, and she thought no more. 

His kiss was gentle. He reached to cup her face in both of his hands, caressing her cheek with his thumbs. Her mouth parted on an exclamation of surprise, and his tongue darted past her lips as he deepened the kiss. Faolan loosened her hair, and her raven curls spilled down her back. Threading his fingers through the silken strands, his kiss turned urgent as he pulled her even closer, and the console pressed into her side.

He kissed her with such suddenness that her brain was ten steps behind her body. His tongue thrust in, then retreated, gliding in an intimate rhythm. Elena leaned toward Faolan, getting as close as possible to his broad, warm chest and moaned softly into his mouth. Her fingers splayed across his stomach, and she slid her hands over his powerful muscles that rippled under her touch. 

Elena’s body sparked to life, heedless of the circumstances that brought them together. A reckless abandon fueled her kisses. She laced her fingers behind his neck and pulled him closer. He groaned, and Elena felt the heady power of a woman who knows she’s desired. She was being devoured and had no will to stop him. His kisses claimed her, and she wanted him to keep kissing her until her last breath. 

Breathing heavily, he pulled back slightly and nibbled on Elena’s lower lip before running kisses along her jaw to her neck. With his face buried in her hair, he whispered her name once more, “Elena.” 

Then he pulled away from the embrace, opened the door, and walked away without a backward glance. Faolan disappeared into the mist as though he were nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

Rescued: Three's Allowed

Elizabeth Ashford tries to escape her wife-beating husband before he kills her, by running into the wilderness near a highway rest area. Michael Enwright is a self-made millionaire and expert in high tech security. At the first rest stop of his long overdue sabbatical, he sees the fleeing woman and intervenes, saving Elizabeth’s life, while nearly losing his own.

When Michael’s help is misinterpreted, he ends up handcuffed and face down in the dirt before Elizabeth can set Sheriff Graeme Kennedy, her former lover, straight. In order to protect Lizzie, Graeme is forced to work with Michael and brings both of them to his cabin for protection.

Now Graeme finally has Elizabeth under his roof, right where he’s always wanted her. So why is he jacking off to visions of the drop dead gorgeous and take-charge Michael? Some things never change.

The Excerpt:

Graeme looked at him with his big dark eyes and Michael found himself staring into them, getting lost for the longest of minutes. With a jerk he broke the eye contact and turned his head away. 

Strong fingers grabbed his arm. “Don’t turn away from me, Michael. Please.” 

That one word stopped him, and he turned back to face Graeme. “What do you want from me, Graeme?” he said, his voice a harsh whisper in the night. 

Graeme stood, cupped his face, then tilted it up slightly, as if he were memorizing every feature. Then he slowly lowered his mouth. 

Michael knew this would be no mere brush of the lips. He should pull away. This wasn’t him; he didn’t kiss men. If he let this happen it would change who he thought he was. He needed to stop it. God help him, he needed it. 

He raised his mouth and met Graeme’s kiss, lips closed, and eyes wide open. 

Graeme’s eyes closed, and he hummed faintly in a sigh. Michael started to pull back, but Graeme kept his face cradled and rubbed his lips gently, and the kiss spun out. Firm lips giving gentle kisses and the scratch of beard where there’d never been roughness before. 

Michael had a moment of clarity, and he wondered what in the hell he was doing. Then Graeme pulled back, ran a tongue over Michael’s lips. 

“Open for me, Michael,” he said, breath a whisper against his mouth. 

As if compelled, Michael’s mouth relaxed, and Graeme thrust his tongue inside. Their tongues met in a clash of wills, hungry to taste each other. Michael could taste Elizabeth there as well. His mind felt far away, no room for thought, only room for feeling, only room for this kiss. Graeme’s arms wound around his waist, and slid up his back, to wind into his hair. 

A groan of desire rent the night, Graeme’s or his own, he no longer knew. He sucked on Graeme’s tongue, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Graeme plundered, seeking, giving. Finally, Graeme pulled back and, with a small moan in the back of his throat, he began to nibble and nip at Michael’s lips.

Christ! He pushed away from Graeme, breathing hard, unsure where to look. He’d felt the telltale wetness on his stomach from one of their cocks and realized he’d been pressed intimately against Graeme. The thoughts swirled in his mind, a confused tangle, with no beginning, no end. I’m naked, I kissed him, I’m fucking hard as stone. 

Ty Hard (Willow Spring Ranch, Book 1)

Tyler has used Don't Ask, Don't Tell as a shield against the truth since he was seventeen. Now, Ty finds himself cut loose from his Navy career after months of rehab from a debilitating head injury. At a loss as to what to do with his life, he travels to Willow Springs Ranch in Arizona to visit his surrogate father, only to arrive minutes after his oldest friend's death. Ty must come to terms with the loss while he fights to keep the PTSD from pulling him under. The last thing he's ready to think about is his growing attraction for another man.

Rancher Cass Cartwright's relationships never last more than a few hours, and that's just the way he likes it. Now he's in danger of doing the one thing he swore never to do: fall in love. Can Cass convince Ty to let go of his past or will sabotage at the ranch kill their love before it has a chance to grow?

The Excerpt:

Ty had found his bag near the bedroom door and dressed in the dark, moving quietly while taking inventory of how he felt. He’d been so sick yesterday afternoon, he knew there was no way they’d had sex, but why was the cowboy in bed with him? He’d watched the handsome face for a long minute and fisted his hands against an urge to stroke Cass’ strong brow, so relaxed in sleep. What would it be like to wake every morning in the arms of a man you loved? 

“Feeling better?” The deep voice slammed into him, startling Ty from his thoughts and making him jump. He turned from the pile of sliced mushrooms and lost his breath in a woosh. 

Cass stood in the arched doorway, wearing only a pair of faded jeans that fit like a second skin. He was all long, wiry muscle, classic washboard abs, and a trail of dark brown hair that led straight to the single open button at the waistband of his jeans. 

“Uhm, yeah,” Ty managed and then tore his gaze away from the feast in front of him. “Thanks for uhm…everything.” 

“Hmm…What are you doing?” Cass asked sleepily. 

“Making breakfast. I figured what with Gibby…” his voice trailed off, and tears filled his eyes. He turned back to the cutting board so Cass wouldn’t see his weakness. 

“It’s okay to cry, Tyler. I’m going to miss him, too,” Cass said, then strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind. 

Ty stiffened. Damn, what was wrong with him? Cass was just trying to be nice and offer comfort in their shared grief. To his shame, he felt his dick harden. There wasn’t much room to maneuver away, since he was already standing close to the counter. He took half a step forward, to try to put a little space between them. 

Cass moved with him, pulling him even closer, and he could feel the press of all that bare skin through the thin layer of his tee shirt. They stood that way for several long heartbeats and Tyler closed his eyes and imagined taking the comfort of that embrace to another level. Something gentle brushed across his hair and he allowed himself the fantasy of accepting a lover’s comfort. 

With his eyes closed, savoring the moment, he almost didn’t realize the strong fingers that tilted his head to the side were real. Then lips brushed lightly against his neck, his cheek, and finally, soft as a whisper, against his lips. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ty said angrily and pushed himself away from Cass. 

Stepping back, Cass looked at him appraisingly for a minute. Then he licked his lips and with a slow, wicked smile, he said, “Tasting you.” 

“Well, stop it,” Ty said, but there was no heat behind his words. 

“My mistake,” Cass grinned, not looking the least bit sorry.

There you have it... 3 very different first kisses.

This isn't a vote, although feel free to share your favorite kiss among these or any other first kiss you'd like to share :)

Be sure to leave your name,  email, and which book you'd like if you're one of the  winners. 

Want to buy one now? Visit my page at Amazon: Laura Harner Store

Don't forget to leave a comment for the grand prize tomorrow of the entire Three's Allowed Series PLUS a $10 Gift Card from All Romance eBooks.

Be sure and visit all the other great authors this weekend!

The Easter Blog Hop 

Kayla Jameth is in the Pen!

Alexios' Fate Book Spotlight 

The setting for Alexios' Fate is Thrace during the early years of the fifth century BC. Thrace is the eastern-most portion of Greece close to the Persian Empire/modern day Turkey.

Greece was just hitting its stride as the cultural center of the ancient world. During the beginning of the fifth century, Persia is becoming a threat to the Greek world, but has not yet invaded. The first Persian invasion by King Darius I looms on the horizon. The battle of Marathon will take place while Prince Alexios is in his mid-20s. Persia will gobble up Dicaea and all of Thrace, but not reach the prince's new home in Delphi. But as you might expect Delphi will become much sought out by the other Greek city-states in the years leading up to the invasion. To give you some idea of time frame, Thermopylae and the 300 won't be for nearly another two decades.

So let me introduce you to my cast of characters. 




Prince Alexios of Dicaea, at 18 years old, has just come-of-age. His father expects him to make a marriage alliance at an age when he should be choosing a mentor instead. Greek men at that point in history didn't typically marry until they were in their 30s. Needless to say, he is rather put out about this.

King Lykos is one of the kings invited to Alexios' coming-of-age celebration as a possible father-in-law/mentor. Lykos is a mature bear of a man with confidence in spades, exactly the kind of man a youth would chose to be his mentor. He is in his late 30s, powerfully built with body hair and a beard. He and Alexios hit it off right from the start, much to Alexios' father's disgust.

Alexios' slave, Galen, sees his chance and makes a bid for his prince's heart. He is a youth only two years Alexios' senior.

And yes, Apollo is real. But he is not some paranormal, omniscient, superior being. He is the anthropomorphism of light, art, healing, and prophecy. The ancient Greeks did not expect omniscience nor demand enlightened beneficence of their gods. Their gods could be just as petty and spiteful as anyone else.

Each of these men wants something different from Alexios. Lykos is looking for a culturally appropriate fling (pederasty) that will likely last for a few years. Galen wants a lover. Apollo, in typical Olympian fashion, is looking for a use 'em and lose 'em one night stand. 

Inspiration for Galen

Blurb: The mature King Lykos has a sexy confidence that turns Alexios' head. Seduced by Lykos, Prince Alexios discovers a world of men he's never known before. 

Meanwhile his slave Galen has gotten tired of waiting in the wings. He sets out to woo Alexios and win his heart.

Even Apollo can't leave Alexios alone. The young prince finds himself pursued by a god and in danger of a perilous love.

How will Alexios follow his heart when he unwittingly wins the favor of a god? Can Alexios escape the fate of Apollo's past lovers and have the man he wants? 

http://www.breathlesspress.com/alexios-fate

Alexios' Fate preorder sale: Get 10% off until April 12 with the code ALEXIOSFATEPREORDER04C352FF

Excerpt:

Alexios' father, still red-faced and with fists clenched, followed him into his room and glared at his slave Galen until the young man left. Demetrios twitched the mantle covering Alexios with contempt, almost as if touching the offending garment sullied his hand.

"Explain to me why my son comes back to me in Lykos' care, wearing another man's mantle? I'm sure the other kings want to know as well!" His voice took on a dangerous quality, "Don't play the wanton and act like you're already his."

Alexios jerked his head up, thrumming with restrained anger. "I am a prince of Dicaea! I belong to no one!"

"See that you keep yourself that way. I intend for you to make a marriage alliance. Whichever of those men becomes your father-in-law will have the mentoring of you." His father stalked to the door before turning. "I expect you to compete with the other youths at the games for your coming-of-age."

Feeling like a prize bull being offered to the highest bidder, Alexios tore the mantle from his body. He stood in no more than he would be wearing when he competed. Alexios realized his father not only wanted him to show his prowess, his father also wanted him on exhibit for the other kings.

"The alliance means so much you don't care if you have to put me on display to get what you want?"

"This alliance is more important than your wounded sensibilities. A betrothal will offer us the support we need to expand. A prince's loyalty is to his father. You will obey me in this!"

In spite of his father, his cock filled as he envisioned being on parade before Lykos and the other men. The fantasy of their eyes watching every move his body made gave rise to a shivery feeling at his core. Would they only have eyes for him or would they compare him to the other oiled bodies competing with him for the laurel? Would the victor also become the prize in some fashion?

The blood left Demetrios' face. "That...that man...excites you, doesn't he? Keep away from Lykos!" his father stuttered with a burgeoning air of alarm.

The dismayed man staggered through the doorway. He shoved past the slave standing in the hall, without thought or seeming awareness of his surroundings. Galen bowed to the king and kept an eye on Alexios' father as he stormed down the corridor.

Alexios still stood in openmouthed shock when Galen reentered the room, trying to fathom what his father's outburst had been all about. Bemused, Alexios wondered why his father wanted to keep him away from Lykos. For a moment, he had thought his father was jealous.

"Master..."

"Never mind him. He's not angry at you."

The air cooled his heated skin as he searched for a tunic to cover his nakedness. Galen reached past him to pick up the garment first. His arm brushed against Alexios' sensitive skin and a shudder ran down Alexios' frame.

Alexios turned and caught the look of surprise on his slave's face. Galen's carefully schooled his features to exhibited polite interest, nothing more.

Alexios gazed at the slave with speculation, contemplating what he knew of the man. Galen saw to all his needs, often before he realized he wanted something. The young man served him with such devotion Alexios had never been forced to rebuke him. In fact, Galen went to greater lengths than necessary, certainly more than duty required. He never wondered about the depth of Galen's dedication before. Why was Galen so diligent?

Taking the chiton from Galen's hands, Alexios replaced the garment on the chest at the foot of his bed. He feasted his eyes on the hale and comely slave. He had intended to slake his lust in one of the slave girls, but his own slave stood before him. Maybe he didn't need to go in search of someone else.

"Do you know what to do with this?" He gestured at his engorged cock.

An enigmatic mix of emotions washed across the young man's face. Distaste, hope, and despair jumbled together to distort the handsome features. Without a word, Galen slid to his knees and his hand stretched out to Alexios' cock.

http://www.breathlesspress.com/alexios-fate



About Me:

A knight and a former princess, Kayla Jameth now spends her time writing m/m romance. A true Renaissance woman, she has done everything from cross stitch like a proper lady to welding with the best of them. An eclectic life has left her with a unique understanding of the world inhabited by men and an appreciation for the difficulties faced by men in m/m relationships. It is her devout wish that her experiences translate into a richer telling of such tales. A minor in classical history left her with a special love of ancient history, especially during the classical period.

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Twosday with Silvia Violet and the Men from Abandoned

I just love Twosdays, err...Tuesdays around here any more. I get to meet such interesting people. Today, the ever charming Silvia Violet is here with her new Release, Abandoned. We thought we'd spend a nice morning just chatting--

Excuse...two gorgeous men just barged their way in here and-- Oh, well don't I feel foolish?

It's Lark and Derek from Silvia Violet's latest release, Abandoned. Sorry Sylvia...we'll chat later. I need to talk with the guys...

For those who haven’t met you before…how about a quick introduction:

Hi! I'm Derek Carlson and this is my partner, Lark Zaccaro. We just found each other again after a six-month separation during which I thought Lark had sold me out to our enemies and left me in prison to die. He didn't. He saved me, and now we're going to find the man who was responsible.

How did the two of you meet? We met when we were assigned to be partners in the Intergalactic Investigations Bureau (IIB).

Was it love at first sight? 

*Derek laughs* I tried to hate Lark at first. He was cocky, and he couldn't take orders worth a damn. But he showed me that he was the best at what he did and he was hotter than hell.

*Lark rolls his eyes* Derek was such a tightass. He refused to admit how much he wanted me. He hid behind The Rules. I did everything I could to get him in bed, but he refused, leaving me horny and cranky.

Derek, what’s a day in the life of loving your man like? *glances at Lark* Unnerving. I can't get used to needing someone so much. But it's wonderful too. Knowing that Lark's there for me, that he cares, that he's not just going to up and leave.

Lark, same question back at you. What’s a day in the life of loving your man typically like? Hot. Derek is so good at….*looks over at his partner* All right, I won't embarrass him. I still can't quite believe we're really together. I want to spend every second right beside him. We're going to take some time off for the next few months and get to know each other outside of life-threatening situations. I'm excited and a little scared.

What’s the best experience you’ve had as a couple? (*blushes* Okay, you can tell that kind of story if you want, but I meant how do people respond to you as a couple?)

Lark: The moment Derek realized I hadn't betrayed him, and we both found the courage to admit that we needed each other.

What’s the worst experience?

Lark: Leaving Derek when he was captured on Lithusia. I knew I couldn't get him out by myself but walking away was the hardest thing I've ever done.

What’s your idea of a dream date?

Derek: Anything where no one is shooting at us.

Lark: Never getting out of bed.

If you could give your partner/husband anything, make his most secret and special wish come true…what would you do or what would it be?

Lark: I'd erase his memories of the time he spent in prison.

Derek: I'd buy him a farm on a low tech planet and spend a summer there with him, cut off from the buzz of urban life.

If we were 25 years in the future, what do you see when you look back at your life together?

Derek: Turmoil, arguments, sex hot enough to burn down the walls and loyalty and support most people only dream of.

And just for fun:

Chocolate or vanilla?

Derek: chocolate

Lark: You got anything kinkier than chocolate?

Boxers or briefs?

Derek: boxers

Lark: neither

Top or bottom?

Derek: Top

Lark: Bottom but we both know how to be versatile when we want to be.

And then the nosy ones about your sex life:

How many times a week?

Lark: You'd do better to ask how many times a day.

Weirdest place?

Derek: On the bridge of my ship while I was bringing it in for a landing.

Ever been caught?

Lark: We're spies. It's our job not to get caught.

Favorite positions?

Lark: Face-to-Face

Derek: anything where I can hold him down

Cuffs or scarves?

Lark: cuffs, ropes, immobilization collar. I love restraint.

Favorite fulfilled fantasy?

Derek: putting Lark in a control collar

Lark: finally getting the spanking I knew Derek wanted to give me


Final thoughts?

Lark: When I agreed to a deep cover assignment after leaving Derek on Lithusia, I never thought I'd see him again. I thank the gods every day that he's here with me now. I'm never going to take that for granted.

Derek: I love Lark more than I can say. I never thought I'd be able to admit that to him, much less say it publically, but now I can't say it enough.

Really wonderful story, guys. I loved getting to know you a little better. I'm very glad you dropped by to share it with us. Come back anytime.

Oh, and bring Sylvia, we never did get to talk!

Here's a little bit more of the guys:

Galactic Betrayal 1 Abandoned by Sylvia Violet

Blurb:

Lark Zaccaro and Derek Carlson were partners and friends. Lark wanted more. Then someone at the Intergalactic Investigations Bureau sold them out to enemy aliens. Lark was forced to abandon Derek to the enemy, and Derek bought the IIB’s story that Lark betrayed them all.

When Lark’s deep cover mission and Derek’s new job in search-and-rescue collide, the desire simmering between them explodes. Lark needs Derek’s help to escape a new enemy, and Derek needs to discover the truth about what really happened on that alien planet. Can they overcome lies and betrayal and find the love and comfort they seek, or will their past forever keep them apart?

Unedited Excerpt:

Lark Zaccaro smiled as he stepped out of the dripping jungle heat, and into the prison building. Even inside, the stale air was so splyvin' hot it belonged in an oven. He didn't know how anyone could breathe. Not that he was supposed to give a fuck if his prisoners got air or not. He took as deep a breath as he could and headed straight for the interrogation room.

A few hours earlier, his guards had discovered a man crouched in the underbrush, spying on their enclave. Lark's morning had been hell so far, and a vicious interrogation suited his mood perfectly. The two guards flanking the door stepped aside, so he could enter what was truly more of a torture chamber than an interrogation room. At least that's what it had been for his predecessor, and the longer Lark lived on Lancarina, the more he found himself becoming like the man he'd assassinated and replaced. He pushed that disturbing thought away. He wouldn't dwell on how low he'd sunk since he'd left his partner to die in a Lithusian prison cell.

The captive hung from the ceiling, suspended by a heavy chain circling his bound wrists. His toes barely scraped the floor, forcing his arms to support the weight of his large body. The dirty chain bit into his wrists, and blood dripped down his arms. In this squalid jungle, he'd have a deadly infection in no time. Lark would have to do something about that. The man had a ship with advanced defenses. Thus, he was Lark's ticket off this cesspool of a planet.

The man's clothes hung in shreds, and Lark couldn't help but admire his muscular body. His gaze slid over the captive's hard thighs, the impressive bulge in his pants, and the well-defined and disturbingly familiar planes of his chest. When he saw the man's face, he froze. No. It couldn't be. His former partner would have no reason to be here. But Derek Carlson, the man who had haunted Lark's nightmares and his fantasies every day for the six Old Earth months he been in this hellhole, was right in front of him. Chained. Suspended. His to do with as he pleased.

Lark's cock hardened, pressing against the confines of his pants. His body knew what it wanted from Derek, but his mind was less sure. Retribution? Forgiveness? A hot fuck before he threw him in prison to rot? Salvation? His gut knotted at that thought, and he fought to keep his guards from noticing how off kilter he was. He had to play his role, not rush this moment.

There would be time later, in his private quarters, to decide what he wanted to know and how he was going to get the information. If the vessel they had captured in the jungle was Derek's private issue ship, then he'd finally forsaken the lying scum at the Intergalactic Investigation Bureau. They might say their mission is to protect everyone in the five galaxies, but they only care about protecting their own asses. Lark intended to find out why Derek had left, but his guards would play no part in that interrogation. Derek was his.

Lark took a few steps toward the prisoner and studied him. He'd wanted him for years, from the moment they were assigned to work with each other at the IIB. Derek had turned down all his advances, saying they should keep their relationship professional. But now Derek was his prisoner, not his partner. If he wanted to live, he'd do whatever Lark told him to.

From the way Derek limply hung in his bonds, he was either unconscious or doing an excellent job of faking it. His former partner had fought hard from the look of him. A livid bruise stood out on one cheek and purple splotches decorated his ribs. A deep gash on his arm had dripped blood trails that were now dry. He would have to tend to Derek’s wounds.

Lark needed the man's piloting skills. If he were going to kill Derek for believing those liars from the IIB when they told him Lark had turned traitor, he intended to do so with his own hands after they got off planet. Fortunately, he kept a fully stocked first aid cabinet in his quarters. He just needed to find a way to get Derek there without making his men suspicious .

Nothing but fear and the promise of a huge payoff on their next deal kept Lark's men from turning on him, in the same way he'd turned on the man he had been sent here to investigate. He pulled a long thin blade from his boot and pretended to examine the sharp edge as he circled Derek. He had to suppress a gasp when he saw the maze of scars criss-crossing Derek's back. If he let himself think about how Derek got those, he might be sick right here.

"Leave us," he said to the guards who were eyeing the prisoner in obvious hope of getting some play time.

Abandoned released March 24. It's available from Silver Publishing.

Galactic Betrayal 1 Abandoned by Sylvia Violet

Kharaisma Rhayne: Bound by Temptation

Welcome to my guest Kharisma Rhayne! She is one busy lady. She is here today to share her thoughts on a sexy pastime and share one of her latest projects. BTW...this site is full of DWS Photography, so read Kharisma's guest blog and feel free to look around!

Thanks so much for having me here today, Laura :D

So, how about we talk about D.W. Skinner’s favorite sport? Voyeurism. Now, of course, I had to mention him right at the start. It was his topic suggestion, so let’s hope that I can do it some justice. I’ve only written about it once before. (By the way, if you didn’t know, he does some really wonderful photography and you should check it out.)

I sat here for a good long while and tried to decide what direction to take this post. Should I write an enticing scene and simply demonstrate it? I may, but first, since the topic gives me the opportunity to discuss it, let’s start in a different direction.

I’m going to be more honest on this topic than I’ve ever been. I’m a straight female and one of the genres I write in happens to be male/male. I often get asked why a woman would write gay stories. I mean, shouldn’t I only write m/f and things that I’ve done? Well, first off – really? Do you think the person writing about Vampires has met one? Lives next door to one? Has had dinner with one? Has slept with one? What about the Scottish Highlander from 1779? Or the Viking? Ok, so, we’ll just ignore that question.

On to the other question. While, of course, I can’t answer the reason for every female that writes in this genre, I can speak for myself. I am speaking for NO ONE but me.

Why do I write male/male fiction? I love men. I love their abs, their ass, their back muscles, their eyes. My favorite part? Well, what do you think? The part that makes them a man. It’s all, in the end, about the cock. No matter how you get there, it’s all about it.

I love being with men. That’s a given. However, I love the concept of watching two men. Have I done it in person? No. Would I if given the opportunity? Definitely.

Two men together are absolutely beautiful. They know what to do; they’re familiar with the “lay out” and the needs. Women, we guess at it all and wait for direction (well, if we’re smart we get the direction and learn what our man wants). Not only is it a turn on to watch them, you also get ideas of what you can be doing with your man later.

I think it’s another reason I’ve always found bisexual men interesting. I’m envious of those women that have gotten to watch two men and then afterward get their relief from the one that likes both men and women.

The last time I wrote on Voyeurism the big deal was the embarrassment. What if they knew I was watching? Some people enjoy that. Knowing someone is watching you can be pleasurable as well. It just depends on what works for you.

Isn’t that the concept of reading a book? While you aren’t reading about real people, you are peeking into another experience. It’s one that the author has created for you with their fictional characters. You picture the scenes in your mind. Based on that, I feel we all have a bit of voyeur in us. ;)

With that, take a look below at an excerpt (as well as other details) on my latest m/m erotic short, Bound by Temptation Book 1: Nigel & Lance. Think about actually standing in the room with them, maybe hidden partially by a wall. Watch them. See what I’m telling you in the scene. Try on your voyeur.

I can be found at: My Blog – Kharisma Rhayne Books – Twitter and on Facebook HERE & HERE

 

Blurb:

Nigel is a professional sports player with a wonderful boyfriend at home. Their sex is always hot and Lance is always willing to do whatever it takes to keep Nigel happy. But, what has Nigel been hiding?

Excerpt:

As much as Lance tried not to respond, he knew fighting it was useless. Every time Nigel touched him his mind turned into mush and his cock got hard. He quit thinking and could only feel Nigel’s hands on his ass, knowing what was coming.

Giving in, he pushed himself against Nigel, feeling his arousal against his own. He heard a gasp as Nigel leaned over and brushed his lips against his. Realizing it was him that made the sound he knew, without a doubt, their conversation was over.

As Nigel felt Lance’s body relax, he knew they could enjoy the rest of their day. The conversation was over for now and they could enjoy each other.

It felt like forever had passed since they were in each other’s arms last night. Surprisingly, the longer they were together, nothing ever got old. Everything stayed new. Nigel desired Lance as much now as he did the first day they met.

Reaching to the back of his shirt, Nigel pulled it over his head and let it fall to the floor.
Instantly Lance latched onto a pierced nipple with his mouth. He loved Nigel’s bad boy look, the long hair, the pierced nipples and cock, the tattoos. It’s what made Nigel stand out. He had first been attracted to Nigel when he saw the huge dragon tattoo spanning across his back. Well, the muscles didn’t hurt either.

He ran his hand down Nigel’s muscular abs and heard him moan as his hand grazed the top of his cock barely sticking out of the top of the low slung waist. Urged on by the sound, Lance unfastened Nigel’s jeans, pulling them down as he dropped to his knees in front of him.

There was already a drop of precum glistening from the head. Game days were always great sex days. Nigel was overly stimulated and easily aroused.

Looking up at him, Lance licked the drop from Nigel’s rod and worked his hand up and down it.

Impatiently, Nigel grabbed the back of his head and pushed Lance’s mouth onto his cock, wanting him to take it deep. Thankfully, Lance willingly complied; Nigel was not in the mood to play games today. He was the warrior home from battle, needing an outlet for his energies, and Lance always built him up even further before bringing him down into a peaceful oblivion.

Nigel’s legs started to tremble as Lance sucked his cock and played with his balls.

Lance pulled away and stood up when he sensed standing was becoming a challenge for Nigel. He grabbed Nigel’s hand and led him into the dining room.

“We haven’t done it in this room yet. I want you to take me bent over the table,” Lance said in reply to the questioning look on his lover’s face.

Nigel strokes his own cock. It was clear that this first round was not going to be full of love and foreplay. He wanted Lance and he wanted him now.

“Take off your clothes and bend over the table.” Nigel knew his voice left no room for options.

Lance obeyed as he continued to watch Nigel stroke his cock. He walked over to the corner of the table, in front of his badass football player; spread his legs wide, and bent over the table.

Nigel let out a gush. “Like the view?” Lance couldn’t help but to ask.

You can pick up Nigel & Lance at the following locations:

No Boundaries Press

Amazon

All Romance

Barnes & Noble

Bookstrand

You can also stay up to date on giveaways & book releases by following my blog: HERE

Sunday Slice with Angel Martinez

One question writers are asked most frequently is where they get their ideas. Often, a writer may not know the exact answer. Other times the blame is solely on the voices we hear in our heads. Sometimes though, we see or hear something, and it so big, so wonderful, or so...disturbing, that the telling of the story is almost like self-defense. The story must be told.
Come read, as the divine Angel Martinez tells how she was inspired to write Aftermath.

It was a few years ago that a callous and idiotic comment on the radio prompted a story. The program, and I’ve no idea which program at this remove, concerned the suspected underreported statistics for the crime of rape. The point was made that nearly 10% of all rape victims are male, while only 3% of these crimes are reported.

Some moronic caller had the gall to say, “Well, if it’s a guy, and he’s gay, it’s not really rape, is it?”

Um, yeah. Jackass.

But this was the birth of Aftermath, the story of a couple’s struggle to cope with the consequences of such personal and destructive violence. First published in March of 2007, this was certainly not my first published work but it was my first under Angel, my first M/M romance.

This is the third edition, and I couldn’t be more pleased. New scenes, the resolution of certain nagging authorial issues, I can’t thank the helpful and patient folks at Romance First enough. We’re glad to be back, Vic, Cody and me. Feels like coming home.

Aftermath:

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-aftermath-675976-144.html

Blurb:

Victor and Cody have the American dream—a house, two cars, upwardly mobile income, and each other—but all is not well in paradise. Cody's naïve belief in other people's goodwill led to a recent assault from which he struggles to recover. Returning to his art, he seems to find his balance, only to be betrayed by a friend and brutally assaulted again.

Victor, wracked by guilt and shackled to a grueling, time-devouring career, must find a way to help Cody back from the darkness and to keep him safe from his self-destructive behavior. With the help of a common-sense therapist, some loyal friends, and Cody's own impetuous nature, their recovery and their relationship have a chance. If the criminals who attacked Cody will only leave him alone, that is.

Excerpt:

Vic slid into a pair of sweats and wandered downstairs where earnest noises of metal on metal drifted out of Cody's studio. Victor chuckled and shook his head. When the muse took Cody, he had to go to it. In the middle of dinner, at three in the morning, right after lovemaking. Vic didn't mind. This was what Cody did. To love Cody was to love his manic ecstasies of creation.

Understanding Cody's art was a different matter. He sculpted in metal and "found objects."

"You mean junk?" The first time inside one of Cody's studios, Victor had scratched his head at the pile of oddments Cody pointed to as his materials.

Cody's smile held all the enthusiasm of a little boy with his first bike. He nodded vigorously. "Yes, sometimes junk. Junk is a terrific resource. But sometimes things you have around, or see in an antique shop or a dime store, or the grocery store. Sometimes a thing you've had around for years and suddenly you take it apart and it's something completely different."

Only five years ago, but it seemed another universe, shivering in the pervasive cold of Cody's first studio, dimly lit and damp, with the ever-present audience of spiders and cockroaches.

Victor started coffee and bagels, took his shower, shaved and dressed, then gathered mugs and plates to take to the present studio. It was clean and bright, built to Cody's specifications. He shoved the door open and watched, lost in admiration.

In cutoffs, work boots, and a heavy, fireproof apron, Cody hammered away at a glowing piece of iron, forcing it to curl and conform to his vision. The light from his furnace painted his pale skin orange and gold, dancing in his hair as if it too were living flame. A miniature Vulcan at his forge, caught in the throes of creative imperative.

When Cody stopped to thrust the iron into a bucket of cold water, Vic cleared his throat. "Can you stop for breakfast, Michelangelo?"

For a heartbeat, those blue eyes stared at him without recognition. Victor waited. Sometimes Cody took a moment to return from his art. "Hey, baby." He finally broke into a huge grin. "Thank you, so thoughtful. Could you set it down for me? You off?"

"Have to be in for nine, yeah." Victor nodded, putting the coffee and cream cheese and jelly bagel down on the table by the door, out of the line of fire. "Listen, sweetheart, I'll probably be late again—"

"Aw, Vic, it's Friday," Cody interrupted mournfully.

"I know, little man, I'm sorry. That presentation to the board is tomorrow. God only knows why they have a board meeting on the weekend. But I've got to have everything ready and half the departments don't even have their data to me yet."

Cody let out a slow breath. "All right. You'll call me when you're coming home?"

Resting one butt cheek on the table, Victor sipped his coffee to give himself a moment. "Cody... I don't want you to feel like you're trapped here. What you said last night, it really got to me. If you go out, would you do me two favors?"

"Anything for you, sugar daddy." Cody chuckled. "Don't you wanna come out, too? Give me a call on the cell and come meet me?"

"Not tonight. Sorry, love." Vic shook his head. "Don't think I'm feeling up to it. Try to come home at a decent hour, all right?"

"Define decent." Cody's grin turned wicked.

"I'm serious here, little man. Before one, one-thirty, if you can manage it. And don't, please, don't go out alone."

Cody rolled his eyes. "Okay, Mom. And I know, I know. No Jonathan."

"Just make me happy. Find someone who'll watch out for you a little. Friends make sure their friends get home safe." Vic advised softly, hoping the message would slide in without throwing off Cody's good mood.

It was such a relief to see him in the studio again. After that one awful night, he’d been sliding between depression and wild bouts of self-destructive behavior. Vic hoped this was the end of the dark time. No more coming home to Cody passed out in a ruin of beer bottles, or not coming home until dawn, or simply sitting on the sofa staring at the wall, or refusing to eat for days.

For a long anxious moment, Cody chewed on his bottom lip, dark shadows wavering in his eyes. "Maybe I'll call Kurt n' Wyatt." He nodded. "Haven't seen them in, oh, God, ages."

Satisfied, Victor stood and gathered up his jacket. "Good idea. I'll see you tonight, sweetheart."

"Hey!" Cody's angry yell stopped him in the doorway. "You forget something?"

Victor looked down at himself, wondering if he'd forgotten his pants or his shoes. Nope, all there. In confusion, his gaze went to Cody and the hurt in those eyes jarred his memory. "Oh, chrissakes... I'm sorry..."

He put the jacket down, went to Cody, and took his sweet face between his hands. Victor tilted Cody's head up slowly and bent with a soft growl to capture Cody's lips, so soft and firm, in a deep, exploring kiss. "Better?" he breathed against Cody's mouth.

Cody's eyes were closed, his expression one of beatific joy. "Oh, man... yeah..."

"Have a good day, little man. Don't forget your breakfast." Victor waved on his way out. Despite the aching feeling of an oncoming cold, he felt better than he had in weeks.


Author:

Angel Martinez lives part time in the hectic suburban sprawl of northern Delaware and full time inside her head. When not at her evil day job, and not writing, she’s most likely talking to her cats or enthusing over the latest bird to grace the backyard. Sometimes accused of having a wicked sense of humor, Angel is still surprised when people laugh.

Where’s Angel on the net?

website: http://www.freewebs.com/angelwrites

facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Angel.Martinez.author

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1010469.Angel_Martinez

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/AngelMartinezrr

Where’s Angel’s stuff?

At Amber Allure: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/bio_Martinez.html

Silver Publishing: https://spsilverpublishing.com/index/book_authors_id/167/typefilter/book_authors

Romance First: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-aftermath-675976-144.html


Thanks for having us, Laura, me and all my imaginary friends!

Special Guest: Remmy Duchenne!

What a way to start the weekend!  Let me give a very special welcome to the incomparable Remmy Duchenne! One of the most delicious people I know...

Hey everyone! I am so happy to be here! I will try to be on my best behaviour *fingers crossed behind back* I hope your new year has been going swimmingly so far and will continue to be a delight for you throughout! 

Today I wish to speak about my newest release, SONS OF EROS 1: Savaro's Honey Buns. This series is a series of novellas, following three brothers as they find love. But they just don't want any love--they want loves that can save them, make them feel safe and secure. They want the kind of love we are all looking for.  Also, I wanted these stories to be on the lighter side of things--the flirtier, happier, hipper side--this is not to say there aren't any sad bits.

BLURB:

All his life, people have been leaving Savaro Anatolis; his parents left while he was at school never to be seen again and lovers only wants him for his money. The only people he can count on, are his brothers. After he finish his training to become a chef, he opens his own diner in the medium size town of Eros. When sexy pro-Basket ball player Jamal Kendrick walks in and demanded to try his honey cakes--Savario knows he has to keep this sexy morsel at arms length or Jamal will break his heart.

Jamal Kendrick wants out of the spotlight for a while--he want to go somewhere, where he can at least pretend to be normal. But he didn't prepare for Savaro, his two brothers and fighting demons from Savaro's past. Is love strong enough to save Savaro, or is their relationship doom from the start?

EXCERPT:

Leaving the office, Savaro closed the door behind him and walked on trembling knees down the long corridor. He couldn't believe what he'd just done. But it was for the best. It had to be for the best. A naked little girl darted by him and Antoinette, one of the Care Workers, chased after her. Normally, Savaro would stop and scoop her into his arms so Antoinette could get some clothes on her but this time, he didn't so much as look back. Antoinette bounced into him and that didn't make him look up either. Walking around a caution, wet floor sign, he climbed the stairs instead of using the elevator for he knew it would only make his day worse. The elevator was over sixteen years old and always got stuck between floors.

Finally he reached the second floor and turned down another hall. Savaro walked into the room where his brothers sat silently and fell, like a full sack, on the bed between Laird and Rajan. He clasped his hands, pressing them nervously between his knees, and hung his head. His whole body was numb to everything around him but the thudding of his heart. It was so loud he wondered if he'd ever be able to hear again.

At sixteen years old the world was on his shoulders but he knew one thing for certain: he had to be loyal to his brothers. They were the only thing, the only thing of any value he had in the whole world and he just couldn't betray that. His eyes burnt with tears but he bit down on his lower lip to focus on another pain than what throbbed in his chest.

"How'd it go?" Laird asked after an eternity of silence.

"It didn't," Savaro said simply, praying they would just let it go.

"But he was really interested in adopting you," Rajan spoke up. "He's rich--you saw the suit he was wearing. I think it was Armani."

Savaro pushed from the seat and walked to the window with the bars on it. The place was like a jail so why hadn't he taken the chance to get out? There were some kids playing outside on the monkey bars. He glanced at the sky and made a face. The clouds were dark and the sun was gone. It was going to rain.

"Come on, Sav," Laird pushed. "There's something you're not telling us."

"Just let it go!"

"Jesus, Sav," Rajan spoke up. "What's the matter with you? We just want to know why he didn't take you. He was actually interested; I could tell. He had that look about him."

"He did want me all right?" Savaro stared out until the rain began pouring from the sky and all the kids ran, screaming back into the orphanage. "He told me of all the good schools I'd go to--my life if I went with him. It was amazing."

"Then I might be a little slow because I don't understand. Why are you back in here?" Laird grabbed Savaro's shoulder and tugged. Savaro flew around and his back slammed into the wall. "Why aren't you gone?"

"I couldn't leave you guys!" Savaro snapped, tears spilling down his cheeks. "I couldn't leave you and he wouldn't take you two so I told him to find another son."

"You idiot!" Rajan screamed from where he was. "You could have gotten a home--left all of this behind you."

"Could you have walked away from Laird and me?" Savaro demanded. He then turned his eyes to Laird. "Could you?"

Laird released him and walked back to the bed. He slumped to it and buried his face into his hands. Rajan went silent and Savaro knew the answer. He turned again to the window and pressed his forehead to the bar. "You guys are my brothers… you are family and you don't split up family."

Now Available at Silver Publishing
https://spsilverpublishing.com/

Thanks for having me! Please visit my links below:

http://remmyduchene.blogspot.com - The Peeping Hole Blog

www.remmyduchene.com - my website

http://pillowtalktales.blogspot.com

https://spsilverpublishing.com

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