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Arts Alive Interview
Arts Alive host Lynda Phillippi talks with author Dianne Hartsock about her recent book "Alex." Watch the interview.
Nobody deserves to be without a home. In collaboration with several authors, Less Than Three Press offers up an anthology of stories about young people who find that home and family are not always where you expect to find them.
All proceeds from this charity anthology will be donated to Project Fierce Chicago.
Hello! I’m so excited to be part of the Project Fierce Charity Anthology and have set up a small blog tour with some of my fabulous friends to share this wonderful project with you.
Havan Fellows, From Sweet Haven to Smokin’ Sexy
Mia Kerick, Love is What I See
Cathy Brockman Romances: Ordinary People, Extraordinary Love
Less Than Three Press ARe Books
At fifteen, Sam inadvertently comes out to his parents, but instead of the support he hopes for, they send him to live with his uncle. Unfortunately, the man is even less tolerant of his uniqueness. Rather than change to please his family, feeling unwanted and misunderstood, he runs away to find a better life.
But the crowded city isn’t kind to a young man with no home and no prospects of work. When this story opens, Sam has been on the streets for several years when one of his ‘regulars’ begins to take more than a business interest in him. For the first time Sammy dreams of more than a bleak lonely future, but does he dare hope that someone like him could find their happily ever after?
“Sammy, your Suit’s here again.”
Sam frowned at the chip in a fingernail. He could nibble off the rough edge, but that would smear his lip gloss, Pink Persuasion, his favorite. He glanced up through his thick lashes. Sure enough, John leaned against a lamppost pretending he hadn’t been staring. This could be fun.
Climbing from his perch on the picnic bench, he winked at Tad and the others and shook out the white skirt of his sundress. The sun was lowering behind them and John could probably see right through the filmy material, maybe catch a tantalizing glimpse of his turquoise bikini underwear. He stretched leisurely, arching his back, the sheer tank top exposing his nipples more than it covered them. He darted a look at the man again. Oh yes, definitely staring. John pushed off from the pole and took a step toward him, and his heart gave a funny lurch. He was certainly attractive, wavy brown hair falling to his chin, large brown eyes.
“Got a minute, Sammy?”
A smile lifted the corners of Sam’s full mouth. John was gentler than some of the others he could name. “Yeah, honey, I got time.” He raised his brows, looking towards the nearby public restrooms, but John shook his head, gaze flicking to the Morrison Bridge over head, the steady stream of cars crossing the river adding to the traffic noise on Naito Parkway behind them. Excellent. Sam knew justmthe spot.
Lacing fingers with John, Sam gave a playful tug and saw a slight blush rise in his face as they strolled along the bike path under the bridge. Cute. The Rhododendron grew thicker there and Sam pushed between two of them.
Hidden from view, he planted his back to the cement retaining wall, pulling John up against him. Brown eyes bore into his, the gleam of excitement unmistakable. But business first. Confusion touched the man’s face when Sam didn’t move, then his eyes widened.
“Oh shit! Sorry.” John dug in his pocket and handed over a few folded bills. Sam sighed. Only a head job. He’d been hoping for enough to get a room that night he didn’t have to share. John had been using him for the last couple of months and he’d even been to John’s apartment a few times. After letting Tad know where he was going, of course. But it looked like this time John just wanted to get off. Must be in a hurry. Crap.
Slipping the money into a pocket of his skirt, he made a show of rimming his lips with his tongue and hid his smirk when John’s eyes darkened with hunger. Men were so easy. Bat his mascaraed lashes, flash a flirty smile, and they were putty. Sam leaned forward and nibbled John’s lean jaw. “Ready, baby?”
AUTHOR: Iyana Jenna
GENRE: BDSM • Contemporary • Erotic Romance • Fiction • Gay
LENGTH: 15,465 words
After his parents’ nasty divorce, Jake Welther was raised by his mother, so when his father dies, he’s surprised to find his name among his brothers’ in the will. Jake never thought he’d get anything from his old man, but neither the house nor the money is his inheritance. It’s a young sex slave named Luke.
Luke is a product of the streets. One unfortunate night, a bad encounter with a client ended with him curled up in an alley, filthy and hurt. When Craig Welthier Sr. took him in, Luke thought he was finally safe and protected. Little did he know Craig would turn out to be worse than any of his previous clients.
With his father gone, Jake doesn’t know what to do with Luke. His three brothers see no harm in continuing to use their father’s slave for their own twisted purposes. Though he doesn’t think of himself as anyone’s hero, he knows what Luke has endured at the hands of his family is wrong. Can Jake stand up to his brothers to rescue Luke? Will Luke find his happy ending after all?
Now Luke regretted not paying more attention to the other words Craig had spoken. My family. In the darkness, his world was falling apart.
“Running away, are we? Forget it. Your place is here, among those of us who love you.”
His eyes flew open as his head was yanked back by his curls.
“And I see that you’re neatly dressed, eh? Since when have we permitted that?”
A flash of fury flickered in Luke’s mind. You can’t order me around, I don’t belong to you.
Alas, it seemed he could read Luke’s mind. The fingers around his arms tightened, so that he whimpered. His silent fury was replaced by trepidation. He looked up in terror at the man standing before him.
“You don’t think you belong to us now?” Craig Jr. gripped Luke’s jaw tightly. “What? What, you dare to talk back now?” The older man growled as he saw Luke attempt to say something. Craig squeezed his jaw one last time before he released it. Vision blurring with tears, Luke panted for a moment before he whispered his answer.
“I-I owe you nothing. My arrangement was with your father.”
That earned him a brutal backhand across his face. Luke almost forgot to breathe, and the brother clutching him was so surprised he almost let go, which would have sent Luke sprawling to the ground.
“You don’t talk to your owner that way,” said Craig. “Bring him inside!”
As the two at his sides heaved him back into the house and Craig slammed the door behind them, Luke realized that this time, the door was closed to him forever.
* * * *
That was the best dream ever, Jake thought, as he turned over, still half-asleep. His right arm stretched out and smoothed the pillow beside him, reveling in the warmth of it.
It sent Jake’s eyes flying open, a frown creasing his brow. Warmth? What was the meaning of that? Had someone been there?
With a start, Jake turned sharply to his side and lurched into a sitting position. His breath came hard and fast.
That wasn’t a dream at all. He’d experienced the most gratifying pleasure that was brought to him by … by Luke, his late father’s sex slave. Jake almost gagged at the thought.
Jake shot out of his bed, grabbing his jeans and buttoning his shirt as he rushed to the door. He had a hunch that Luke had attempted to flee and two things whirled in his head — one, that his brothers had captured him and were now giving him the most heartless punishment …
… and two, which shocked him, that he was infuriated at Luke’s ploy. Somehow he felt cheated. How dare Luke do something like that to me! Jake felt like thrashing the guy himself instead of letting his brothers do it.
* * * *
Luke stood in the corner of his small room, across from the door, clasping his hands between his legs, his body trembling.
The merciless brothers had forced the jeans down his legs and ripped them away, and then torn the seams of Jake’s T-shirt. Neither Seth nor Craig had bothered to ask him to take it off. They liked to see him writhe in agony as the tattered tee was pulled away from his body, cutting Luke’s skin, leaving it red and abraded. He slowly curled up against the cold floor with his back to them, his eyes squeezed shut, trying to keep in the tears. His lips tightened to suppress sobs.
But Craig wouldn’t let Luke alone. He barked an order to his brothers who jerked Luke back on his feet at once. Seth took Luke’s hands and wrenched them away from his body, while Luke tried very hard to pull them back. Horror filled his mind heard Craig’s heavy strides heading around toward his back.
Luke didn’t dare lift his face, though, and his eyes only caught the oldest Welther’s feet, so he missed Craig releasing his belt until it snaked from his hand, tip grazing the floor on the edge of Luke’s sight. Luke twisted in Seth’s grasp, weeping and pleading. Please, please. Not like this. Craig Sr. had never done this to him. He often threatened it, yes, but could often be dissuaded by a pathetic gaze.
Iyana lives in Jakarta, a city famous for its traffic jams, a lot of cars and motorcycles, and people selling stuff on the roads. You can spend two hours on the road going to a place you can reach in half an hour in a normal situation. Thanks to the traffic jams, though, Iyana can come up with a lot of stories, mostly shorties, as she prefers to spend the time during her trips writing into her cell phone rather than sleeping.
Another thing Iyana loves is kitties. Right now she has five of them. Their names are Larva, Nyil, Cil, Betsy, and Horus. When she doesn’t write, she plays with them, or they would play with her when she writes.
As most of you know, equal rights are something that the GLBT community (or whatever acronym you prefer) has been fighting for across the world for some time now. July the 4th marks the celebration of Independence Day in the United States. We invite you to take place in a blog hop to celebrate our own march toward independence!
Be sure to drop in at Queer Town Abbey to add your name to the Rafflecopter for lots of great prizes!
So, we’re supposed to talk about our first experiences in the GLBT community, but honestly, you’d find my own story quite typical and a trifle tedious. I was a painfully shy, awkward girl sitting in the middle of class (we were seated alphabetically back then), bullied just because it was fun to watch me turn red and stammer. Lonely, wishing the boy I was crushing on would smile at me, desperate to hide the fact that I was in love with one of my girlfriends (i.e. A friend that was a girl).
My brother’s story is much more fun! Let’s go there. Younger than me by about five years, he had all the confidence I was lacking. Flamboyant style, perfect hair, Duran Duran posters on his bedroom walls. This was the time when the phrase ‘That’s so gay!’ was popular. My brother would get this smirk, amused and haughty, and say ‘That’s why I like it!’
He’s the one who slowly made me realize that it’s okay to be myself. I don’t have to hide ANYTHING about me to make others more comfortable. How about you? Do you sometimes feel the need to hide who you truly are?
Prize Time! Comment below for a chance to win a $5 ARe Books Gift Card and an e-copy of any book on my backlist. Don’t forget to leave your contact info!
Thanks for stopping in! For fun, here’s a little excerpt from my latest release, Stuck on Rewind. Enjoy the hop!
Stuck on Rewind-ARe Books
Can Ashton let go of his jealousy and be the friend and lover that Lance needs?
Ashton has been in love with his best friend for years, watching him grow from a pretty high school boy to the gorgeous erotic dancer at the club where they both work. The problem is that Lance enjoys the attention of a variety of men while Ashton wants him for his very own.
After a day spent denying his attraction for Lance, standing by while their friend Trey openly flirts with him, Ashton decides it’s time to make his move or risk losing his man forever. Once Lance knows how he feels he’ll realize they should be together. Or is it already too late ?
“Fuck!” Ashton shouted, a mixture of anger and ecstasy as Lance swallowed again, then let his softening cock slip from between his perfect lips. Ashton leaned on his elbows, his chest heaving while he caught his breath. With a last kiss on his thigh, Lance climbed off the bed, sleek limbed and graceful, and walked to the dresser with a sassy sway of his hips.
Ashton stared after him and moaned, not sure if he wanted to pull his friend’s ass back into his arms or punch him in the face. It would be incredible to wake up with Lance every morning and make love to him. But he sternly reminded himself that they were only friends and Lance needed to stop climbing into his bed at night uninvited.
“You do remember you have a bed of your own?” he asked more sharply than he’d intended.
Lance gave him a smirk over his shoulder, making a show of licking the last of Ashton’s spunk off his swollen lips. “You told me to wake you at seven.”
“I didn’t mean… Oh hell.” Ashton fell back on the pillows and threw an arm over his eyes. He swore in exasperation when the mattress dipped and Lance’s familiar scent surrounded him. “Dammit—”
Soft fingers touched his mouth. “Don’t be mad, baby. I didn’t mean anything.”
Ashton peered at him. The guy looked positively forlorn, and Ashton sat up, giving him a one-armed hug. “I’m not mad. But you don’t need to keep doing that, either. You’re my friend!” He kissed the blushing cheek beside him. “You make a terrific roommate, and I like the company.”
“And I like you.” Lance walked his fingers up Ashton’s leg.
Ashton laughed and shooed the hand away, but couldn’t help staring at the enticing evidence of his friend’s arousal between his legs.
“Can I take care of that for you?”
“Not at all.” Lance stood up, waving off Ashton’s offer. “I’ll deal with it in the shower. You have to save your attentions for Mister Man.”
“Who are you talking about…? Wait!” Ashton rolled off the bed and trotted after Lance as he crossed the apartment.
Lance giggled, slipping behind the bathroom door but holding it cracked an inch. He smiled at Ashton with his pouty, kissable lips. “You know, the boss. Mister Kent.”
“I’m not saving myself for—”
Ashton blinked at the closed door. Why in the world would Lance think he was interested in his boss? Sure, the man was handsome as sin, but he was also an egomaniac and tyrant. Why only yesterday, he’d…
Hot blood scorched Ashton’s neck and face, his arm tingling where Morgan Kent had gripped it, towering over him. The man had bent to his ear, swamping Ashton’s senses with subtle cologne and the hint of sweat as he whispered, “If you can’t type a simple letter without mistakes, I’ll find a secretary who can.” He tightened his hand almost painfully on Ashton’s arm. “Or maybe I should just bend you over this desk and smack your ass for each mistake?”
Ashton’s dick jumped at the memory. He told it sternly to behave. “We’re not falling for that bastard. We’ll stick with the sweet boys at the club and call it good.”
All Naughty Nursery Rhymes are 50% off at Breathless Press, including my very own Wee Willie Winkie!
Willie has met an old flame, but is he willing to give up the decadence of Boston society for the man he loves?
For the past three years William Wilkerson has led the life of the privileged rich. Head of his father’s shipping business, Willie indulges in the pleasures of Boston’s fine young men to his heart’s content. That is, until he meets Fredrick, the one man who has captured his heart, again. As his former tutor, Fredrick has been declared off limits by William’s father. Fredrick also believes he’s beneath the attention of Wilkerson’s heir.
Willie disagrees, but is he willing to throw away rank and privilege for the man he loves?
Fredrick held up his glass and stared at the candle’s flame through the amber liquid. He took a sip, savored the rich, biting taste on his tongue. He welcomed the burn down his throat. This was the very last drink he could afford, and he had to make it last.
A giggle erupted from the booth in the corner, the one whose curtains were drawn against curious eyes. A smile tugged at Fredrick’s lips despite the dire state of his wallet. The laugh had been carefree, joyous, naughty. Fredrick shifted on the cushioned bench. Only a few straggling customers remained in the dining room. He wondered if any of them would notice if he shifted his cramped cock as it throbbed in sympathy with the bright laughter.
Rather than risk it, he watched the fruit vender outside the window beguile a customer. Another giggle and stifled moan swiveled his attention back to the corner. A silk-clad foot and slim calf peeked beneath the curtain. He grinned even as the delectable sight emphasized his own loneliness. It had been far too long since he’d had someone in his bed.
“Excuse me. Sir?”
Fredrick looked up, distracted from his memory of lush lips and white skin and wide, hazel eyes, and blinked at the stout innkeeper at his elbow. “Yes?”
A frown fleeted across the man’s homely face at another bout of laughter from the corner. “If they’re disturbing you, I can have Wee Willie take his guest upstairs. Excuse me, I mean Mister Wilkerson.” The man broke off, flustered by the slip of the tongue.
Fredrick’s heart leaped on hearing the name mentioned. Is William really here? How could that be? The innkeeper coughed, and Fredrick frowned at the intrusion into his thoughts. The man was so damned serious about such a minor indiscretion. “They’re no bother. In fact, I’m almost done anyway.” He lifted his nearly empty glass. Hearing a shout, they looked over in time to see a young man tumble through the curtains onto the floor. Fredrick caught a glimpse of red hair and an embarrassed cheek before the gentleman crammed a hat on his head and strode passed them, face averted. The innkeeper shrugged and followed, likely to be sure he paid for his drinks.
Fredrick stared at the silk-clad foot still protruding from the parted curtains. He loosened his hold on his glass but had no way to stop the wild hammering of his heart. Before he lost his courage, he stood and swallowed the last of his brandy, then walked the short distance to the booth.
A grin tugged the corner of his mouth at his eagerness. It had been three years, after all, and they’d parted in anger. Would William acknowledge him? His hand trembled as he drew aside the heavy curtain and allowed his gaze to travel up the silky hose to bright blue trousers. Blood heated his face when he found the laces undone at the waist and the silk shirt open to expose white skin and rosebud nipples.
A sigh brought his gaze up to the pretty face that stirred his dreams. Rich brown curls surrounded lovely hazel eyes and full, pouting lips. He groaned when a delighted smile revealed the even, white teeth that had nipped his collarbone on more than one glorious occasion. “Freddie, is it you?”
He hasn’t forgotten! Fredrick stored away the joy to visit later. God knew his pleasures were few and far between, these days. He smiled as the young man struggled up from the cushions, lovely and sensual, half-clad. “How are you, William? I had no idea you came to Boston.”
“On occasion.” Merry eyes flashed at him as William looked up from his struggle with the pearl buttons of his blouse. Leaving them, the youth slid from the booth; only a slight sway in his lean body betrayed his inebriation. Fredrick’s heart skipped. The top of William’s head barely reached his shoulders, perfect for Fredrick to rest his chin on if he gathered the man in his arms.
“Please, join me. It’s so nice to see you.”
At his urging, Fredrick settled into the cushioned booth while William drew the curtains closed once again. “No one cares who’s back here, as long as they don’t see it,” he explained at Fredrick’s questioning look. William slipped onto the bench beside him, and without a thought Fredrick clasped the vibrant body to his chest and returned his light kiss. His hold tightened, but William didn’t seem to mind. He wound his arms around Fredrick’s neck and licked Fredrick’s lips, his sweet tongue seeking entrance.
Fredrick laughed, breathless with the need that swept him. He moved his head back, denying the kisses sure to topple the defenses he’d built against this man, and chuckled at William’s delectable pout. “You promised not to tease me.”
So excited to have Chrystal Vaughn on my blog today, kindly answering some questions. Take it away, Christal!
Why did you decide to write a mystery/thriller?
My first book was a thriller…more of a horror novel really. My students were upset that they couldn’t read it since it had adult content, so I wrote Dead in the Water specifically for them. I really had to dial back the content to make it YA friendly.
What genre does your book fall into – cozy, mystery/thriller, suspense, police procedural, etc?
My second book is a Young Adult paranormal thriller (through Solstice Publishing). I self published my first book, Sideshow.
What prompted you to write this book or series?
It was all about the students, who are very thrilled that I’m a writer. I’ve had a few of them ask me to sign their copies, which is so strange but kind of neat.
Do you consider your book character-driven or plot-driven?
I think my book is character-driven. I really tried to capture the attitude of a teenage girl with the character Eva. Part of the book is excerpts from her journal, and the other part is told from the point of view of her boyfriend, Jesse. It was harder to write from a teenage boy’s perspective, not having ever been one of those myself, but I had ample material to study for character development.
What makes your book unique?
I think my book is unique because it focuses on the romance between Eva and Jesse but not in an explicit way. The book also focuses on what kids are capable of doing to each other, the horrible mean things they can say and do to those who are different. While there is an element of the paranormal in the book, the biggest threat to the protagonist is her peer rather than any paranormal entity.
Do you plot ahead of time, or let the plot emerge as you write?
I plot ahead of time…and then the characters decide if they like what I plotted. When I wrote my first book, I had an outline of every chapter, how I wanted it to go and where I wanted the book to end up. It totally did not go according to plan. For Dead in the Water, it began with the seed of an idea and took off from there. I didn’t plan any of it.
How did you develop the names for your characters?
For Dead in the Water, I took the names of some of my students and used them for my own evil purposes. Some are anagrams; Eva (Evalyn) is the combination of several initials for several students, which is fitting because her personality is a combination of those students’ personalities. I stole part of Jesse’s name from one of my fellow educators. And the character of Natasha Milligan is specifically stolen from my friend of the same name, who begged me to put her name in my book, so I did and I made her the bad guy too.
Do your characters swear? Why or why not?
In Dead in the Water, the characters don’t swear much because I was trying to keep the content YA friendly, but yeah there is some swearing. If you could hear what I hear in the halls of the high school I work at, you would know that my characters are saintly as far as their language is concerned.I included some swearing because I wanted to keep the characters real, and teenagers swear an awful lot.
How did you decide on the setting?
I love Brookings, Oregon. I have made a personal vow to one day live there in a cottage near the beach and write books all day. Something about the wildness of the Pacific Ocean in that area really speaks to me. Even though some of the events in the book are disturbing, that doesn’t sully the lure of Brookings for me.
Do you have a writing mentor?
I don’t really have a mentor, per se, as in another author that guides me along the way. I’m very thankful to Kathi Sprayberry, Editor in Chief at Solstice Publishing, for her guidance and encouragement. She is also an author so it’s nice to have that comeraderie.
I wrote a lot when I was younger, even won a few awards. Then I had kids, had a full time job, had gone back to school…I just didn’t have the time anymore. My creative writing class for my bachelor’s degree kickstarted the writing again. After that, I was addicted. I wrote all the time. One day, I was editing some pages on my first book and the teacher I work with (Annette) realized I wasn’t proofreading a student’s paper. She insisted on reading it. At that point I had never really shown many people my work but she was very persistent. And she loved it. She’s been my cheerleader ever since and reads everything I write. She gives me feedback and advice, so I guess she could be considered a mentor.
What’s your writing schedule? Do you have a favorite place to write?
Recently, I started writing my books longhand, so that means I can take my notebook anywhere, anytime and write as the characters demand. My favorite place to write is in bed but I get some of my best ideas while I’m driving. I have a voice recorder app on my phone to dictate to while I’m driving.
What’s the first mystery you read?
The very first one was Encyclopedia Brown Takes the Case. That was a while ago!
I’m in the middle of editing my third book, Conspiracy of Ravens. Look for a release at the end of June. I’m also writing my fourth book as yet untitled. And I have about seven more books that are either partially written or waiting for me to put pen to paper.
Anything else you’d like to add?
I can’t thank my friends and family enough for their support, and also the folks and fellow authors at Solstice Publishing. It’s a lonely business, writing, but it’s nice to know I’m not the only one that is reaching for the dream.
Chrystal (Christina) Vaughan (1976-present) was born in Ashland, OR and grew up all over Southern Oregon where she currently resides. She is married and has two daughters and a son; she enjoys teaching others and imparting her love for the written word to her students. When she is not writing, Mrs. Vaughan enjoys spending time with her family and various pets, knitting items of clothing she forces her family to wear, and is a voracious reader.
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Most people see Chase Manning as the party-boy twink he seems on the surface. Only James, Chase’s BFF, knows the depth of his loyalty and the extent of the wounds Chase carries inside. When Chase meets Rhys Sayer things don’t go well, but he can’t shake his attraction to the huge, sexy man.
Rhys is a man of contradictions and fear—a strange combination for a PI and bodyguard. He’s in a bad place emotionally when he sets eyes on Chase for the first time. When Chase puts the moves on him, Rhys insults him, thwarting any possibility of a relationship. Rhys doesn’t see himself as a complicated man, but he dreads the very kind of connection he desires.
Just as they’re trying to overcome their uncertainties, Chase is put in harm’s way. Luckily Rhys and their friends have all the right talents to help Rhys save the man of his dreams.
* * * *
A big thank you to Dianne for the chance to stop by today with Chase and Rhys. There are a few minor spoilers, but nothing too big, I promise.
Hello. Chase. Hi, Rhys. Thanks for being such good sports and letting Dianne’s readers get to know you a little more.
Chase: No problem, hon. I’m always happy to meet new friends.
Rhys: You’re welcome. *smirks* As long as they know Chase is mine. *laughs*
Chase: *swats Rhys’s arm* Behave, big guy.
I think everyone is well aware of you two being a couple now. So… let’s begin the questions. This one is for both of you. What are you most proud of about your life?
Chase: Professionally or personally?
Chase: Being there for my friends. I know to some that probably seems like a cop out answer, but I take supporting my friends and lover very seriously.
Rhys: He’s serious too. Especially his best friend. I’ve never seen anyone not a parent as protective and willing to battle for others as him—and that’s saying a lot.
Yeah, I got to see a lot of that while writing both your story, Desires’ Guardian, and the first one you two appeared in, Designs of Desire. So what about you, Rhys?
Rhys: Outside winning Chase’s heart, I’d have to say my time as a Marine. You don’t get to see me back then, but you do meet one of my buddies from the service. The friendships formed back then are life long and unbreakable. Just like I intend to make my relationship with Chase. *curls one beefy arm around Chase’s shoulder, pulling him closer*
Aww, you two are so cute! What about the other person do you least like?
Chase: She went there! *giggles*
Rhys: Yeah, she did. But everyone knows what I like least about you, so it’s not a big secret or anything.
And that would be?…
Rhys: I hate how others see him. He’s really intelligent, sweet, stubborn, and caring, but more people think he’s this slutty party-boy. Of course *rolls eyes* that’s his own fault. He deliberately put that image out there.
Chase: Yes, but that was then. I’m now seen as the better half of Rhys *grins*
Rhys: Smart ass.
Chase: Yeah it is, isn’t it? *winks*
Boys! Now, on to the next question, brats. This one might be a bit hard to answer, but it’s for Chase. What’s the worst thing that’s happened in your life?
Chase: Oh, you would go there. *frowns and tugs on the black cuff on his left wrist* Loosing Ethan when I was a teen would be the worst thing to happen for me. Ever. It changed everything from my goals and family to how I thought about life, love, and others. That one horrid moment changed everything.
Would you tell the readers here what happened and who Ethan is?
Chase: Ethan was my first cousin and best friend growing up. We were more like twins than anything. I miss him every day, even now. As for what happened. *looks up at Rhys with wet eyes* I…
Rhys: No, he can’t discuss that. One, it’s all explained in the book and two, it’s still too painful for him. I won’t have anyone making him cry. Wanna know, then you’ll have to ask James or read the book. Sorry.
No, I understand. And Chase, sorry for pushing.
Chase: It’s okay.
On to a happier question then… Rhys, there’s a red dragon on the cover of your book. Can you tell us what it means? Why it’s there?
Rhys: Our cover artist, the amazing Reese Dante, included that as a nod to the stylized Welsh Red dragon that is tattooed around my bicep. Only one other person has this exact tattoo and that’s my little brother, Dal. He designed it and we had them done when he turned 18. As far as I know, that’s his only bit of ink too.
As for the why, that’s easy. Our parents are Welch, as in from Wales. We are both proud of our heritage and wanted something to honor that and to signify our bond as brothers.
Wow! How cool and special. (And for the readers, let me tell you, it’s HOT too) Now, before Chase gets too territorial, let me ask Chase another one. What is the quality you most like in a man?
Chase: Loyalty. Plain and simple, but completely true. If you aren’t loyal to your friends and you partner, then I have no use or patience for you. I can forgive most things, but being disloyal isn’t one of them.
Rhys: It’s also the quality that I would have to say defines Chase the most personally. He would do anything for his friends, especially his best friend. It makes him even hotter *grins*
Chase: Aww, hon, love you too.
*nods* Understood. This one is for you both. What three things are you never without?
Chase: My leather wrist cuff, my hero spoon necklace, and my cell. And yes, I will answer the cell no matter when or where.
Rhys: He means it too. It’s kinda weird at times, but I understand. My three things? Um… probably my cell, keys, and *blushes* now that I’m with Chase, lube.
Chase: Rhys! No telling them things like that.
Rhys: But it’s true. I mean, you did attack me on my own desk after all…
*Chase grumbles but in the end grins and nods*
Erm… moving on before they get to hot and heavy in Dianne’s living room. If your partner wants to seduce you, what’s one sure fire trick he can play?
Chase: She thinks asking us about seducing is going to get our minds off sex? How cute.
Rhys: True, but hey, it’s a good question. Honestly though, all Chase has to do is exist and I want him. No seduction required.
Chase: See, isn’t he sweet? As for a sure fire seduction, ride his bike. There’s nothing as sexy and ‘uplifting’ as my man straddling that big black Softtail of his. Riding with him is even better though.
Rhys: I think it’s time for us to go. *grabs Chase’s hand* I drove so my bikes outside and we have *clears his throat* someplace we need to hurry and get too.
Chase: *laughs* You heard him. Seems he needs another riding lesson *wink*
All right. Thanks for stopping by and sharing and HEY, no starting before you leave us. That’s so not cool. *grumbles* Tease!
*Both men wave as they head outside and to the bike.*
About the Author:
Tempeste O’Riley is an out and proud omnisexual / bi-woman whose best friend growing up had the courage to do what she couldn’t–defy the hate and come out. He has been her hero ever since.
Tempe is a hopeless romantic that loves strong relationships and happily-ever-afters. Though new to writing M/M, she has done many things in her life, though writing has always drawn her back–no matter what else life has thrown her way. She counts her friends, family, and Muse as her greatest blessings in life. She lives in Wisconsin with her children, reading, writing, and enjoying life.
Tempe is also a proud PAN member of Romance Writers of America®, Rainbow Romance Writers, and WisRWA. Learn more about Tempeste and her writing at http://tempesteoriley.com.
The Bringing Sexy Back blog hop is for some fun. Each writer will tell us, other than body, what makes a man/woman sexy!
Hello! Welcome to the Bringing Sexy Back blog hop, where we’re supposed to tell what makes men/women attractive, but it has to be something not attached to their yummy looking bodies.
I have to admit this stumped me for a moment. I’m usually first attracted to a bright smile or a gorgeous set of eyes. Who am I kidding! I find people fascinating and am drawn to all kinds of things about them.
But something not physical? I suppose that would be an attractive laugh. Especially from someone out of sight. If it makes me smile in sympathy, even better. I’ve been known to leave the table or cross a crowded room to see who’s so carefree or having such a good time they can laugh like that.
Wait! There’s another laugh I find so much more attractive. It’s that low, intimate laugh across a table or next to you on the couch, joyous, satisfied, letting you know they’re exactly where they want to be and who they want to be with. And what they hope to be doing soon…
That’s the sound that melts my bones and turns me into a quivering mass of jello and need.
PRIZE TIME! Please let me know what you find most attractive in a person for a chance to win an e-copy of any book on my backlist. Don’t forget your contact info!
Here’s a little snippet from my latest release STUCK ON REWIND where Ashton finds many things about Lance attractive: Buy HERE!
Hearing the click of the door as he crossed the hardwood flooring, Ashton glanced up and gaped when Lance came waltzing into the room, absolutely naked. He’d never fucked his friend, but Jesus, the man was gorgeous, from his rounded ass and sleek muscles to the lovely cock sitting up, waiting to be licked. Ashton’s heart pounded. He never could find the words to describe the perfection of Lance’s face, wet tendrils of ash-blond hair caressing his chin.
Lance noticed his stare and made a beeline for him, a naughty smile curling his full lips.
“Hey, beautiful. Saved you some hot water,” Lance drawled, gaze traveling leisurely over Ashton’s body. He stepped closer and nibbled Ashton’s ear. “We could have showered together if you want to conserve water.”
Ashton pushed him back with a laugh, though his heart fluttered at how good Lance smelled. But starting an affair with his mercurial roommate was not a good idea, on a million levels.
“I can manage the water bill just fine, honey,” he murmured, distracted by a pale nipple on his friend’s sculpted chest. Lance didn’t do body art, but Ashton could picture a tiny silver hoop through the pink flesh. Breathless, he touched the small nub and watched in awe as it hardened under his fingernail.
Lance’s soft moan recalled him, and he snatched his hand away. His gaze swept up to meet the fire in Lance’s light blue eyes. As if Lance couldn’t help it, he pressed a kiss to his forehead. Ashton felt the quick beat of his friend’s heart when he pressed against him, his cock rubbing along Ashton’s hip.
“Why won’t you fuck me?” Lance murmured, raining light kisses on Ashton’s cheeks. “You’ve wanted to for years.” Laughter and lust thickened his voice. “I wouldn’t mind.”
It took all Ashton’s willpower to nudge the tempting man away. “Not a good idea, honey.”
Lance gave him a strange look, and then a dark flush crept up his neck. He glanced away, but not before Ashton caught the pain in his eyes. “I understand.”
Ashton grabbed his arms, needing to stop that train of thought right now. “No, I don’t think you do. When I’m involved with someone, I don’t share. You know that. Do you really want to give up your other men for me?”
“We don’t have to be involved—”
“Lance! You’re my best friend. Of course we’d be involved.” He tucked Lance’s light hair behind his ears. “At least I’d be.”
A small grin twitched Lance’s lush mouth. “Me too. I’m already half in love with you.”
Ashton rolled his eyes, trying for playful, when he really wanted to crush Lance in his arms. But he had to protect his heart. “Oh God. I’m taking a shower.”
He walked away, praying Lance wouldn’t stop him. It was one thing to say no to the lovely man, quite another to ignore the beautiful cock drawing circles in precum on his hip.
“Seriously, this is best,” he told the ache in his balls as he closed and locked the bathroom door.
Hop along for other great prizes!
(coming soon from Solstice Publishing!)
As a Certified Mental Health Therapist, Scott Reid has his share of interesting experiences, though nothing compares with the time he spends with the psychic, Alex Elson. Plagued by terrifying images and dreams, Alex turns to Doctor Reid in the hopes of learning to control his visions. Instead, Scott is pulled into Alex’s world, where dreams and reality mix and nightmares are real.
Two young men, brothers, have been abducted from the lake outside of Oakton without a trace of who took them. That is, until Alex receives a silver pocket watch in the mail belonging to the elder brother, a taunt from the kidnapper for Alex to come find them. Alex’s visions turn at once into nightmares. Images flash in his mind of an abandoned well and a terrified, lonely boy slowly dying at the bottom. The shed looms close by, holding a horrifying secret, a dark place Alex’s frightened mind refuses to go.
With the help of Scott Reid, Alex endeavors to control his visions and find the brutalized victims before death claims them. But the watch is ticking away and time’s running out.
“Hey Alex…” Justin’s voice trailed off, and he put the coffee pot on the warmer and went over to him when the man didn’t respond. Scott joined them, leaving his computer on the table as he passed. Alex’s eyes were wide, unfocused as he stared out the window. His breath came quickly and sweat beaded his forehead.
“What do you see?” Scott asked, voice mild, placid.
“It’s hot here. Grass is dry.” Alex’s whispered words sent a shiver through Scott. He sounded…detached. “The forest is dark across the way. Crows circle above the trees.”
“Alex, where are you right now?” Scott made the question a demand.
A shudder ran Alex’s lean frame. “I’m in your office, Dr. Reid. I see the garden through the window. But I’m also here, in this empty field. Talk to me! I want to come away from here.”
Scott touched his hand. “Come home, Alex.”
“It’s hard. Something’s drawing me to the forest. God! I don’t want to go in there.”
“Jane would want you to come home,” Scott said firmly, using the ace up his sleeve. For a second he didn’t think even the deep love Alex had for his wife could draw
him back, but then he blinked his eyes into focus, and gave Scott a slight smile.
“Thank you. That’s a terrible place.”
“Is it a real place, do you think?”
Alex’s expression turned bleak. “Yes,” he whispered. “The crows were the ones from my dream this morning, and they had this.” He pulled the soft cloth holding the silver watch from a pocket and showed it to Scott. “It came in the mail a few days ago. No note. And now it shows up in my dreams. There’s a connection…somehow.”
He turned the watch over and showed Scott the engraving on the back. “There’s a picture of a man and woman inside as well, but no way to identify them.” Alex made a discouraged sound. “Who would send this to me? God, Scott, I don’t want go through this again. Can you make it stop?”
Scott drew a quick breath, feeling panicked, out of his depth. Was Art Peters right? Could he help this special man or would he cause even more emotional damage? He swallowed a sigh. There was no one else and Alex desperately needed hope to keep him sane during the madness of his visions.
He exchanged a look with Justin, who poured them all coffee while Scott pulled a chair from the table for Alex. Alex sat and tangled a hand in his hair, dragging the bangs down to cover his eyes. He snorted when Scott brushed them to the side as he sat beside him.
“Janie doesn’t let me hide, either. I suppose you want details.”
“If you feel up to it.”
“Hell with that.” Justin took the chair opposite Alex and leaned toward him, saying firmly,
Alex nodded. “The dreams are different but I’m sure it’s the same place. In this one I was standing in that field looking at the forest. The one this morning, I was in the forest.”
“And?” Justin prompted when Alex stopped and they watched a shiver run through him.
“And the crows led me along a dark path. I smelled something rotten, found a child’s grave. And something else. An old shed that terrified me for some reason.”
Justin’s eyes narrowed. “What are you leaving out?”
“Hell, Justin! Let me tell this my own way.”
Scott watched the two friends. Alex glared, clearly furious, but Justin gave him a cool look in return, unruffled. Slowly the flush left Alex’s face, leaving it pale, his blue eyes enormous. “Bastard,” he muttered, but his voice lacked heat. “The child tugs at me. The grave would suggest he’s dead, but I don’t think so. Oh fuck, Justin. I thought it was over! I thought I could give Jane a normal life, be a good husband to her. If the visions are coming back…”
Alex covered his trembling lips and looked away from them. Scott’s heart squeezed with pity but before he could say anything Justin slammed his hand on the table, making them jump.
“We’re not playing it this way, Alex,” Justin informed him. “You tried to push us away two months ago. You’re trying again. Pre-emptive strike. But I’m not going for it. I know Jane won’t either. Now man up and we’ll see what the good doctor here suggests we do next.”
Scott blinked as two sets of eyes turned to him, hope in one, caution in Justin’s. What did they expect him to do? He wasn’t a detective. He couldn’t solve a crime, if any had been committed. The pain when he bit too hard on his bottom lip recalled him from the edge of panic.
“First things, Alex,” he said gently. “Just now at the window, did anything warn you that a vision was coming on?”
The strain left Alex’s face and he tilted his head, thoughtful. “I think so. These last few times I’ve noticed that everything becomes clearer, more focused, sometimes almost painfully bright.”
“Any scents involved? A certain odor?”
Alex looked startled, then shook his head. “I don’t think so, though I can smell as well as touch the things in the vision, as if I’m really there.”
“Maybe you are,” Justin put in.
It was Scott’s turn to be surprised by an idea, but Alex scoffed. “Hardly, Justin! Let’s not add astral projection to my weirdness.”
“You’re not weird,” Scott and Justin said in unison, then the three of them burst out laughing, easing the tension that had been building in the room.
DATE: June 1 to 30, 2014
PRIZES: Grand Prize: $100 GC. Other Prizes: GCs, book giveaways, etc.
My turn! Answer THIS trivia question for a chance to win an e-copy of my thriller THE DARK BOKOR and also be eligible for the prizes at TRR!
When it comes to the dark weavings of hoodoo magic, only a few can survive.
It’s started. Bodies have been found in the French Quarter, torn limb from limb. The undead have been seen walking. For Detective Matthew Rieves, this is the worst news he can imagine. Having spent his entire life in Orleans Parish, Matt’s no stranger to the bizarre. Though, despite the growing evidence, he still has a hard time believing in the occult. But when two hoodoo bokors vie for supremacy, it’s the innocent civilians that pay the price.
For Jesse Dalembert, he’d left New Orleans to sever his ties with hoodoo. But when a friend is brutally murdered by the bokor’s zombies, he returns, falling at once into danger and into Detective Rieves’s bed. With their lives on the line, their simmering attraction flares into a passion they can no longer deny.
Working against time, can the lovers find a way to stop the hoodoo war, or will they fall victim to the dark magic, maybe becoming zombies themselves?