THE BASEMENT is out! #newbook #ghosts

the basement-001THE BASEMENT


Alex is haunted by visions of the dying, but now it seems the ghosts he’s seeing are real as well.

In this sequel to ALEX and THE SHED, Alex wonders if he’s seeing ghosts. His friend Justin has bought the Fulton place, a beautiful old mansion on the edge of Oakton. But something’s wrong in the house. Alex has visions of a small boy, trapped in the basement, and a man at the top of the stairs who won’t let him leave.

And Logan Fulton has come to town, Helen Kramer’s cousin, a psychic medium who wants something from Helen, whatever the cost. He and Helen had spent time in the Fulton house as children and Alex suspects Logan has something to do with the spirits now awakening in the old mansion. But whether Logan is calling them forth or if something else is controlling them, Alex can’t be sure.

The child’s spirit calls to Alex, as do others trapped in the house. There is a dark entity holding them there, keeping the child forever in the basement, the others for his amusement. But Alex has never believed in ghosts, so what is really going on? As he strives to learn the boy’s secret, his friends are one by one pulled to the Fulton place and put in danger while Logan works against Alex, having an agenda of his own. Will Alex be able to solve the haunting of the old house, or will he and his friends be taken one by one, doomed to walk the dark hallways forever?


Cold air swept onto the porch, heavy with the threat of rain, smelling of damp and rotting things. Alex shivered, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets. The nights were growing chilly with the promise of snow in the coming week. He’d love to go inside and sit by the fire he’d started earlier in the living room, cozy on the hearthrug with Jane wrapped in his arms. But Christopher McAllan had another twenty minutes to go on his lesson, and the last thing Alex wanted to do was disturb him. He’d taken time off work at the bookstore to be there Friday evenings. If painting with Jane gave him some comfort, Alex was glad for it.

The wind picked up, a roar in the pines circling the garden, the caw of crows riding the air. Alex braced himself against the rain splattering his face like the brush of icy fingers in a dark room. He started as a shadow formed beside him, blacker than the night, growing tall, looming over him…

A whimper escaped him, and he cringed back, hugging his small, starved body as he waited for the blow. It never fell. The dark thing moved away without a word, shuffled up the stairs, leaving him shivering on the cold cement floor.

“Papa?” he called, but only silence answered, and no one came to wipe his tears and keep him safe.

Alex caught back a sudden sob, blinking his stinging eyes. He’d been learning to anticipate his visions, but this one had struck hard, without warning. Should he call Doctor Reid? No, he’d see him in the morning. Besides, it was Friday night. His psychiatrist was probably on a date with Art Peters. A smile tugged at his lips. Peters owned the art studio in Fort Collins where he and Jane showed their work. Scott Reid had been dating the flamboyant man for the last month, two lonely souls who’d found each other.

He glanced at the house behind him. Kind of like him and Jane. Though he’d been the lonely one. Jane could have had her pick of husbands. In fact, she’d almost married someone else. Why she’d chosen him…

The light went on in the kitchen, and Alex hurried across the porch to join them inside, the unsettling images already fading. He let them go. If they meant anything, they’d resurface. His new motto in life was to enjoy every minute he had free of visions, since clairvoyance seemed to be a part of him. There was no escaping it. Scott Reid concurred and was currently helping Alex learn to control his visions. Before, Alex would blindly follow where a vision led him, without thought. Using Scott’s suggested techniques, he hoped to keep from doing that.

The back door squeaked on its hinges as he opened it and Jane and Christopher glanced up from the table. Jane looked as lovely as ever, dark hair sweeping her shoulders, her blue-green eyes like gems in her pretty face. Christopher’s hair, dyed a rich auburn this week, was held back with a rubber band. His blue eyes were startling in a pale, thin face. He’d been kidnapped and spent weeks imprisoned at the bottom of a dry well, on the edge of death when Alex and the police finally found him.

That had been a month ago, and his clothes still hung loosely on his too thin frame, but it would take a long time for Christopher to recover. Nightmares stalked his sleep. Nick Kramer, a former detective on the Gibson Murders’ case last summer, had abducted him and his brother Caleb for no other reason than to draw Alex to him. Kramer believed Alex had been working with Jack Gibson when Gibson tortured and killed his daughter, Mariam, though Alex had tried to save the victims. Kramer had killed Caleb in a fit of rage, but through his visions, Alex had been able to track Kramer down before Christopher had lost his life as well.

Christopher jumped to his feet when Alex entered the room, but he settled back down into his chair, the fear slowly leaving his eyes as Alex crossed over to them. Alex sighed inwardly, noting the blue aura surrounding Christopher was still bruised by his ordeal.

“What are we working on?” he asked gently, careful of Christopher’s taut nerves. Alex had seen him take a breath, the trembling lips firm, the moment Christopher was no longer a victim. He liked Christopher, admired his courage. They’d buried Caleb a few weeks ago, and Alex recalled Christopher’s grief-stricken face as he stood over his brother’s grave. He still jumped at shadows but continued doggedly to put his life back together. Alex would help him all he could.

Giving him a shy smile, Christopher turned the still wet canvas on the table toward Alex, who made a sound of surprise. Where he and Jane used bold strokes and vivid hues in their work, Christopher painted in pastels. The field of iris was done in watercolor, delicate, sweet. Though Christopher had only met with Jane twice before, there was promise in his use of light and shadow and the depth caught in the picture.

“This is very good,” he murmured, tilting the canvas carefully to the light. “What’s the plan for next week?”

“We’ll add the final touches to this picture, and then I’d like Christopher to make a charcoal sketch of the iris for me.”

“She wants me to practice shading,” Christopher put in before Alex could ask why, and they grinned at each other. At times, Christopher seemed able to complete his thoughts. Alex wondered if his time alone in that terrible well had made him more empathetic to those around him. Whatever the case, Alex welcomed it. There were so few people in his life who got past the wall he’d put up against a world that was often cruel. Most people didn’t bother.

A sudden thought struck him, and a shiver of apprehension crept up his back. He’d made a connection with Christopher while he was trapped in that well, at one point his vision so intense he’d actually joined him in that terrible place, spoke to him, touched him. Was that the reason Christopher could read him so clearly now? What did that mean for them?

He must have been staring too long because color tinged Christopher’s cheeks and he glanced aside. Oh, shit. The last thing Alex wanted to do was make him feel uncomfortable in his house.

“Hey, why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll give you a ride home?” he offered, wanting to talk with him alone, voice his concerns. Jane lifted a brow in question, but Alex gave her a slight shake of his head. He’d had his license for over a week now. “I’ll drive like an old grandmother,” he promised her.

Christopher snorted. “What else is new?” he muttered under his breath, though his teasing smile took the sting out of his words. While he fetched his backpack from the living room, Alex pulled Jane into his arms.

“I’ll come right home,” he promised against her lips.

“I could drive him—”

“He’s been on his own for a week now. I want to see his apartment and ask him how he’s doing. It was probably hard moving out of his parents’ place, whatever he says.”

“You think he’ll open up to you?”

“I hope so.” Alex studied Jane’s lips, then kissed their softness. She murmured encouragement, and he pulled back with an unsteady laugh. “I’d better get going.”

“If you say so,” she teased, placing her hands on his hips, pulling him against her.

Alex caught his breath. “I’ll be right back,” he growled, letting her go with reluctance. Christopher was putting on his coat by the front door, and Alex joined him, pulling a thick sweater over his head. For early December, it was already dipping below freezing at night. Seemed it would be a hard winter in Colorado this year. No big surprise. The year had been difficult all around.

“Ready?” he asked, disconcerted when his head breached the sweater, and he found Christopher’s gaze on him. He looked quickly away, but Alex frowned to see his cheeks redden. What was going on with him?

Christopher hitched his backpack on his shoulder, and Alex led him outside. Cold air struck them, and they hurried to the small sedan parked at the foot of the porch stairs. Christopher scooted into the passenger seat while Alex rounded the driver’s side, turning up the heat as soon as he had the car started. Having driven it earlier to pick Christopher up, the car quickly warmed, and Alex eased the sedan into reverse, turning to take the gravel road into town.

The wooden planking on the bridge thumped loudly as they crossed it and Christopher made a soft sound. “The infamous bridge, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“I felt the echo of an old fear from you as we crossed it. Is this where you kept hearing Bobby Gibson this past summer, even before his dad tossed him in?”

Christopher alluded to the murders last summer and the time Alex rescued Bobby from drowning under the bridge. Jack Gibson had tied him in a sack and thrown him in the river for spying on him with his victims. Alex gave Christopher a sharp look, but couldn’t see much in the dark. “You felt that from me?”

Christopher lifted a shoulder and Alex frowned. “We need to talk,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. They reached Oakton in short order, and Alex’s heart sped up as they turned onto Christopher’s street. Homes that had been set aside as low-income housing for college students rested between tall maples and pine. Kyle Bronsin had taken Alex to his rooms here once last summer and kissed him. Before Gibson murdered him in the park. Alex touched his lips with his tongue and tasted wine. The coppery stench of blood filled his nostrils, and he forced his hands to relax on the steering wheel, not daring to look at Christopher and pass on the heart-wrenching emotion.

They pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex at the end of the street, and Christopher tentatively touched his arm. “Will you come inside, just for a few minutes?”

“Of course. I haven’t seen your apartment yet.” And we really need to talk.

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Happy October!


fall2fall“October Country . . . that country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and mid-nights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain. . . .”

Ray Bradbury, The October Country

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IMPACT: Queer Sci Fi’s Fifth Annual Flash Fiction Contest plus giveaway!

impact BANNER-fb-etcimpact COVERAuthor Name: Queer Sci Fi 

Publisher: Other Worlds Ink 

Release Date: Thursday, July 26 2018 

Format: Paperback, eBook 

Is This Book Romance?: No 

ASN: coming soon 

Price: 3.99, 14.99 

Story Type: Novella 20k-50k 

Word Count: 33,700 

Cover Artist: Lex Chase 

 Genres: sci fi, fantasy, paranormal, horror 

Pairings: Some stories are romance, with various pairings 

Keywords/Categories: gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, asexual, pan, demisexual, queer, non binary, genderqueer 

 Series Title: Queer Sci Fi’s Annual Flash Fiction Contest 

Position (Number) in Series: 4 

Necessary to Read Previous Books: No 

Other Books in Series Available for Review?: Yes 

 impact MEME-blurb

Warnings: This book contains 110 stories of 300 words or less each. 

 Book Blurb: 

 IM * PACT (noun) 

1) One object colliding with another 

2) An impinging of something upon something else 

3) An influence or effect on something or someone 

4) The force of a new idea, concept, technology or ideology 

Four definitions to inspire writers around the world, and an unlimited number of possible stories to tell, but only 110 made the final cut. 

 A difficult choice to be made. An object hurtling recklessly through space. A new invention that will change the world. So many things can impact a life, a society, or a planet. 

 Impact features 300 word speculative fiction ficlets from across the queer spectrum from the minds of the writers of Queer Sci Fi. 


Welcome to Impact

 impact author-badge

My story Jealousy (Or Why Joe Can Never Keep a Lover) is included!

Series Blurb: 

 It’s hard to tell a story in just 300 words. Each year we ask writers to take the challenge, turning in stories across the queer spectrum. The rules are simple. Write a complete sci fi, fantasy, paranormal or horror story, include LGBTIQA characters, and do it all with just 300 carefully chosen words. 

Buy Links:  

Amazon Kindle: 

Barnes & Noble: 



Angus & Robertson: 




Queer Sci Fi is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour – enter via Rafflecopter for a chance to win: 

  a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link:

 About Queer Sci Fi: 

At Queer Sci Fi, we’re building a community of sci fi, fantasy, paranormal and horror writers and readers who want a little rainbow in their speculative fiction. We run a great discussion group on Facebook, a twitter feed, and have a website full of useful materials, news, and announcements for readers and writers of queer speculative fiction. 


Facebook Discussion Group: 

Facebook Page: 


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Midnight Twist is Out!!

Midnight Twist

Title: Midnight Twist

Author: Rian Durant

Genre: Paranormal, Romance, Comedy

Pages: 54

Publisher: Nine Star Press

Buy links: NineStar Press || || || Smashwords


Jaydon can’t afford to lose a bet he’s made, so when the sweet as sin Eluin offers him The Contract, it may be exactly what he needs. Or is it? Things get a little twisted with the cheeky demon being around.

The number of demons in Jaydon’s apartment grows, with Eluin’s big brother Eluel and his wayward lover Sam showing up. The couple is at a breaking point in their own on/off relationship and this time getting back together seems as probable as hell freezing over.


It all started with an espresso machine, even though I’d seen him drinking espresso only once in all the time we knew each other. Then he complained for three days that he hadn’t tasted such swill in his whole life. The fact that I’d made it for him with all my love didn’t cause him to show an ounce of tact.

I felt in my gut it was a tremendous mistake to enter the mall, but even if I’d tried to avoid it, I doubt he would’ve taken my opinion into account. He would’ve thrown a temper tantrum of magnificent proportions, which wasn’t a pretty sight. I’d been a witness and a victim of such antics once, only it was in front of a restaurant, which I hadn’t dared come close to ever since.

The glowing look in his eyes while we passed by the shop windows made my heart sink, because I couldn’t afford most of the things he stared at, especially with the plans we had for the rest of the week. My lovely boyfriend possessed a seductive appearance and a good heart, but his perceptions were terribly distorted due to eighteen years of systematic spoiling at the hands of his parents. He used to reassure me this wasn’t going to come between us since he was madly in love with me, but he couldn’t be further from the truth. After the ironic remarks I had been subjected to in the past few weeks, I knew I wasn’t going to get away with it.

I didn’t want to lose him, but it was clear that if I didn’t overcome my financial issues, his love for me would vanish into thin air together with his rebellious spirit, and he’d settle with any of the “appropriate partners” his parents tried to match him with. Once, one of his father’s business tycoon friends with his three hot lovers landed in front of my door and pounced on me, obviously not familiar with the appearance of his intended chosen one. I led a fierce battle using all means possible, which ended up being the shoehorn lying next to the shoes at the front door, in order to preserve my honor. Things deteriorated when Lyte came out of the bathroom in his short, sexy bathrobe to check why I was wreaking such havoc. We had to barricade the door and listen to a serenade for more than an hour before the police came to take them away.

I turned to Lyte with a smile, intending to remind him of that time the tycoon came calling, but when I caught his hand, he didn’t react at all. He had already seen it. He gazed at the window with an oblivious smile, and then raised his finger and pointed at it. A second later he issued a brief statement with a determination I’d rarely heard in the voice of another human being.

“I want it!”


Author Bio

Rian Durant is a writer roaming the MM fiction sphere but doesn’t like being confined by (sub)genres and categories. The only rule she believes in when it comes to life, love and writing is to do everything with passion or not at all.







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NICOLAS is 30% off!


Dreamspinner Press

Betrayed by a lover, Jamie rents an isolated cabin on Lake Huron, wanting only to be left alone. Instead, he is pulled from his solitary existence as an artist and tumbles headlong into the legend of Saint Nicolas.

As a young man, Nicolas accidentally killed a man intent on murdering three children, only to have the man’s malicious spirit rise up against him. Fleeing through the centuries from the Krampus, the evil troll-like creature that dogs his steps, Nico finds refuge with the young artist who takes him into his home and bed. But Jamie has questions. Who is Nicolas, and why does the Krampus want to destroy him?

When the Krampus begins to torment and torture anyone Nico comes in contact with to punish him, Jamie’s life is put in danger. And Jamie isn’t sure whether he can help Nico defeat his nemesis or if he’s merely a pawn in the Krampus’s game.


Jamie startled awake. “What?”

He had trouble breathing, the crushing weight on his chest seeming to have followed him up from his dreams. But that couldn’t be right. He’d rented the cabin for its isolation. No one should be there. Did he still dream?

A warm breath brushed against his cheek, sending a shiver of dread and strange anticipation through him. “Easy, baby,” a silky voice whispered in the darkness. Sharp teeth nipped his earlobe and pleasure and pain sparked along his nerves. His eyes adjusted to the moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains, and he stared in amazement at the man gazing at him with wild green eyes, long pale hair, high cheekbones and a slender neck he craved to run his tongue along.

The stranger laid his weight on him, driving the air from his lungs and making Jamie struggle for every breath. Shifting position, the man sealed his full lips over Jamie’s, drawing a long groan from Jamie when an impossibly large cock slid against his. In sudden panic he reached to shove his unknown visitor away and touched hot skin and lean muscles. Of their own volition his hands roamed lower, following the curve of the stranger’s back to the rounded swell of his ass. He drew a quick breath and the man laughed into his mouth, pushed his tongue deep, thrusting inside to match the movement of his hips as he ground against Jamie’s aching dick.

Heat pooled in Jamie’s stomach. God, what was happening? The thing in his bed looked like a man, but his every instinct shouted otherwise. His skin was warm when it should have been cold from being outside. And how had he gotten in? All the windows and doors were locked tight against the winter storm. It was as if he’d just materialized in Jamie’s bed. “Who—”

He cried out when a hand pushed between them and grabbed their cocks, stroking them together until he lost the ability to think. So close! He grabbed onto the man’s firm ass and yanked him tighter against him, rising up to shove into his strong grip.

The triumphant hiss in his ear shot ice through his veins. “So naughty.”

“No!” Jamie struggled to sit up, scrambling back against the headboard. He blinked, finding himself alone in the room, only his ragged breaths disturbing the silence of the cabin. A forgotten anxiety knotted his stomach. Naughty. He hated that word, tossed about by the boys he once knew in school. The ones he’d suck off behind the gym, desperate for a gentle hand in his hair, balm against his loneliness. He’d been terrified his parents would find out he was different, that he liked girl things and found boys much more exciting than he should. They would know he was gay and there would be hell to pay for their freak of a son.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. God, that had been ages ago. The last shreds of the dream dissipated, and he reached for the bedside light, fumbling in the darkness for the switch. Low light stung his eyes and he blinked at the empty bedroom, unable to believe the attack hadn’t been real.

He flung off the heavy quilts and slid to his feet, clinging to the post at the foot of the bed as a wave of dizziness struck him. Laughter from the other room jolted him. Heart pounding, he bolted for the door and it crashed into the wall as he flung it open. The reddish glow from the banked fire on the hearth lit the main room of the cabin, though the kitchen area remained in shadows.

Jamie’s gaze swept the rooms, focusing on the dark corners.  No one jumped out at him. Nobody sat on the couch. His coffee cup remained undisturbed where he’d left it on the hearth. Of course. The cabin was isolated, miles from the nearest neighbor. Who would bother to come way out there, especially with the threat of another snowstorm on the way?

He ran a trembling hand through his hair, pushing the sweat-drenched bangs from his forehead. Christ, the dream had seemed so real. The cold of the great room finally registered, creeping up from the hardwood flooring. Shaking, he crossed to the fireplace and stirred up the coals, adding another log.

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BIRTHDAY PRESENTS! #booktour #goddessfish



Join the tour for a chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

December 4: Erotica For All
December 4: Fabulous and Brunette
December 5: Christine Young
December 6: Straight From the Library
December 7: Lock That Door!
December 8: Sharing Links and Wisdom
December 11: It’s Raining Books
December 12: Romance Novel Giveaways
December 13: Long and Short Reviews
December 14: Readeropolis
December 15: Emily Carrington – review only

BirthdayPresents-4For Tracey, life has become a nightmare. Kidnapped from a nightclub in Boulder, Colorado, brutalized and raped by the killer known as Crimson, he’s held captive alongside Kyle, a young man Crimson keeps chained to his bed and is slowly torturing to death. Though Tracey manages to escape with Kyle’s help, he is forced to leave Kyle behind.

Gene has never stopped looking for his brother Kyle, abducted from a nightclub seven months previously. The case breaks open when Tracey comes forward, claiming to have knowledge of the whereabouts of Crimson’s hideout.

A manhunt begins, but Crimson’s birthday has come and gone, and he will kill again.

Less Than Three Press        Amazon 


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callum's fate nspCALLUM’S FATE

Amazon     NineStar Press


In 1780, Scotland, following a harsh year of drought, Callum Mackenzie is forced from his father’s farm in the hopes of finding work. But as fate would have it, Callum is lured onto the moors by the will-o-the-wisp. Lost in the dark, he falls into enchantment, encountering faeries and nymphs, until he stumbles into the arms of a licentious Barrow-Wight who lays claim to his soul.

Hearing his silent pleas, Donal sends Liam the gruagach (faery) to rescue Callum and bring him to his farm, a place of refuge from the Fae. Callum is happy working on Donal’s farm, slowly falling in love with the beautiful, silver-haired gruagach.

Yet there’s something wrong in the nearby forest… Despite Donal’s warnings, Callum is lured into the forest and becomes tangled in its magic, easy prey for the Barrow-Wight. Will Liam be able to strike a deal with the Barrow-Wight to save Callum’s life, or has Callum found his last resting place instead?


Callum ran until his lungs burned, every breath ragged and painful. Fear spurred him on, though fog began to cling to the rough mounds of the barrows, making such flight dangerous. Stones stabbed through his worn boots with each footfall, but he daren’t stop. There had been voices in the shadows…

Exhaustion slowed him, his chest heaving as he fought for air. Dusk spread its dark mantle on the landscape, and he shivered as a finger of dread traveled up his spine. Perilous to be on the moors at night without shelter. He cursed the misfortune that had sent him this way, but he was hungry and ill. He’d followed the will-o’-the wisp, thinking they were the lights of a farmhouse. His brothers would crudely have called them swamp gas and continued on the road, but Callum had always been the fool.

An owl hooted in the semidarkness, making his skin crawl. “Sweet Lord,” he muttered, heart thumping. “Protect me—”

He stumbled on a loose stone and fell heavily against a dark mound of earth. Oh, God! The ground caved in under him, and he dropped into the barrow in a shower of dirt.

“Save me!” he sobbed as he scrambled to his knees.

Sinewy arms reached up from the blackness and twined around him. Callum screamed, but no sound escaped his throat, choked with terror. He was yanked against a hard chest and hands ran over him, disembodied in the darkness.

“Soft. Sweet,” a voice sliced the silence, and a cold breath washed over his face. He gagged on the waft of rot and decay. The tip of a dry tongue scraped along his jaw, and he shuddered against the body under him. “Nice strong bones to gnaw,” the voice continued. “Sweet marrow to suck and swallow. Shall I eat you, my lovely one?”

Callum whimpered as the low tones wound through his head. The mists parted, and moonlight filled the barrow, showing him the creature. He gasped at the cold beauty of its face. Eyes dark as pitch burned into him and brushed against his soul. Lush lips, dripping honey, overripe, took his mouth in a kiss that sent his pulse into a riot of hunger and desire.

A vague warning sounded in his head, urging him to run. The wight slid its hands down Callum’s back and squeezed his ass, and Callum groaned as he was rocked against the long, hard length of the creature’s erection. His own cock grew heavy, aching as it rubbed along the impossible thickness of the ghoul’s shaft.

Nimble fingers pushed against his balls and sensitive hole through his clothing, and Callum’s deep moan spilled into the lush mouth sucking his tongue. There’d been a boy back home he’d touched on occasion, but they’d never… He never… Even so, the thought of the wight’s huge cock sliding into him, stretching him open, filled him with a wild lust he couldn’t control.

He trembled and sobbed with need as the creature masked as a man trailed kisses down his neck. It moved his long hair aside to nibble at his collarbone. The thing reached a hand between them and clutched Callum’s cock, and pleasure, hot as fire, swept through him.

The wight returned its plump lips to his ear. “Stay with me,” it whispered as it stroked and squeezed him into a frenzy of bliss.

Callum fought to catch his breath, dizzy. “Yes.” He panted. He’d promise anything to keep the creature stroking his dick. The wight snaked its other hand into his trousers and tugged his balls, and he cried out as he came, his orgasm ripping through him in waves of ecstasy. His seed spilled in a warm gush into the creature’s hand. Even when he was spent, the thing continued to pull on his sensitive cock, sending unbearable sparks of bliss through him. He fell weeping against its chest, begging to be let go.


The wight’s whisper nudged Callum from the dream into which he was falling. What?

“No!” He pushed up in a panic. What had he sworn to do? Large hands reached for him, but terror gave him strength and he scrambled for the ledge above him. Catching hold of the crumbling lip, he swung his legs over and rolled from the barrow. The wight’s screech of fury chased him across the glen. Running in terror, he skirted the remaining mounds and fled onto the moors.

Merciful Lord! He’d been with a barrow wight, allowing the wicked thing to slide its tongue into his mouth and touch his cock. Was his soul now tainted by this ghost guarding a long forgotten grave? Was he doomed?

Mists closed around him and hid the moon in a veil of cold gray. He came to a stumbling halt, fear pounding through him in time to the wild beat of his heart. As he caught his breath, he heard the unmistakable sound of flowing water, perhaps a creek winding through the heather. Callum gnawed his lips. Danger lurked on the water’s edge for an unwary man.

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Once Upon a Rainbow with Sidney Blackburn!

Good morning! I’m very excited to have the lovely Sidney Blackburn on my blog today talking about her stories. Take it away, Sidney!

*  *  *
OnceUponARainbowVolOne-f500Once Upon a Rainbow was just released on Monday, and I’ve already spoken a little about the inspiration for my story in the NineStar Press anthology during the release party on Facebook. Apart from very obviously being inspired by Aladdin, “Morning Star” also incorporated my addiction to history and all things Morocco. Some of the names and incidents referred to in my story are real, but I used my artistic license to weave in so many fictional elements, the story is pure fantasy. (Visiting Marrakesh is on my travel bucket list, though!).
The anthology contains so many good stories, it’s grand company to be in!
My fascination with m/m takes on fairy tales didn’t start with writing “Morning Star,” though it remains truest to it’s inspiration. It all began…(wavy lines as we FLASH BACK to A COUPLE YEARS EARLIER:)
prince_revI was reading a story about a king who arranged a marriage for the crown prince–his heir–to another prince in a neighbouring kingdom. Which on the surface is cool, but the whole thing with kings and kingdoms and crown princes and heirs is that heirs generally don’t come from same sex unions. The story never addressed this, never mentioned if the king himself had a same sex marriage and if so where his son the crown prince came from, etc, and that detail… well, it bothered me. Stuff like that gets in my head and worries at me, like the pea under all those mattresses.
I wrote Prince of the Stable as an exploration of a prince marrying a man with no expectation of heirs. It has fairies and a curse, but isn’t based on any particular fairy tale.
Then I wrote City of Dreams for Less Than Three Press. Funny story, I wrote it for acityofdreams400 specific, fairy tale themed anthology and…was rejected. I revised it and resubmitted it for another of fairytale anthology and… was also rejected. However it was accepted for publication as a stand alone short story in a collection of other urban fantasies. The setting of City of Dreamsis more modern than most fairy tales, more 17th century than 10th century. It’s an attempt to progress a society from the tenth century in an alternate world where magic is a fact of life. Also a love story. Because that’s what I do.
(wavy lines as we RETURN TO PRESENT: )
I love the idea of taking fairy tale subjects and turning them around. I did a Cinder-fella (who hasn’t though, really) and I’m currently working on a m/m version of Snow White and a steampunk m/m take on Hans Christian Anderson’s The Nightingale. (Hold me accountable! My muse is fickle…)
I want to thank Dianne for letting me on her blog to blabber on and on, she’s an amazing person!


Sydney Blackburn

“I was hoping for more drama and speeches. I do love villainous speeches.”
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Little Match Girl is out!

My story Little Match Girl is out in the Once Upon a Rainbow anthology!

OnceUponARainbowVolOne-f500Once Upon a Rainbow, Volume One 

Author: Sydney Blackburn, K.S. Trenten, Riza Curtis, A. Fae, Dianne Hartsock, J.P. Jackson, Donna Jay, A.D. Song, Mickie B. Ashling

Release Date: November 20, 2017

ISBN: 978-1-947904-29-3

Format: ePub, Mobi, PDF

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Category: Romance

Genre: Contemporary, Historical, Paranormal, Sci-Fi/Fantasy

Word Count: 147100

Sex Content: Ranges from N/A to Explicit

Pairing: FF, MM

Orientation: Ace/Aro, Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian

Identity: Cisgender, Genderqueer, Intersex, Trans

Warning: Depictions of non-con and attempted assault.

Purchase Links: 

NineStar Press:


Barnes & Noble:




Christian can’t help himself. He’s fallen in love with the sweet, sometimes effeminate guy who’s been coming into the sandwich shop for the past several months. But Dani is also the Little Match Girl, the ragged queer selling candles on the street corner Christian’s been avoiding all year, going so far as to cross the street to avoid walking by him. Ashamed, he wonders if Dani can ever forgive him.

Losing his mother to cancer, Dani has spent the last year in a haze of grief and loneliness, selling Mother’s candles like they always had, giving himself to any man who can pay, saving him from having to go home to his father’s brutality. Desperate for a place to belong, he sets out with Christian to find his mother’s family. Christian helps, wanting Dani to be happy, though the cost might be losing his sweet lover forever.



Chapter Two

Dani approached the run-down house, relieved to find the cellar windows dark, even though it was still relatively early. He retrieved the burlap sack he’d hidden in the bushes and eased open the door to their apartment, listening carefully in the stillness. Maybe Carl—he would never again call him Father—had already passed out. Hell, he was afraid to hope that.

The door creaked as he closed it, and the anxiety that accompanied his days spiked. “Hello?” he called. Carl expected a greeting before Dani could escape to his bed in the back. No answer. He tiptoed across the stark room, the few pieces of furniture black silhouettes. The cold air smelled of onions from Carl’s dinner, and candlewax. Maybe Carl had gotten some work done.

Dani snorted. Fat chance. The candles he peddled had been made by him and his mother. Carl spent his days at the local pub. His nights—a shiver ran through Dani. Mother had died of cancer the year before, God rest her soul, and Dani wished with all his heart he could have gone with her. Carl, his goddamn father, hadn’t been right in his mind since. He’d always been a brute to them, but now…

He set the bag of candles on the scarred kitchen table and drew a few crumpled bills from an inside pocket of his coat. He made sure Carl got the money he expected from the sale of the candles, Dani only keeping what he needed for dinner. If one could call coffee and a half sandwich dinner. Just think of the meat pies the rest of the money could buy! But the sandwich shop was a place out of the cold. And Christian worked there, the beautiful man who always had a kind word for him. He thought he’d met an angel that first night he’d gathered his courage and entered the shop, drawn by the warm glow of the fire.

Hot blood rose in his neck, burned his cheeks. If he had sold even one more candle today, he could have gotten his own food and not suffered Christian’s charity. That had been humiliating. Christian had spoken of payment, but how stupid of Dani to think the man wanted him, too thin and bony, his clothing so threadbare he washed them by hand rather than risk having them fall apart in the washing machine they shared with the rest of the tenants.

He couldn’t go back there. Not after this. Heart sore, shaking in the cold room, he hurried to the far end of the cellar apartment. He took a second to glance into his father’s room as he passed. The bed was rumpled but empty, minus the quilt, and a sick dread knotted his stomach. He didn’t have a room of his own, just an old mattress and a blanket behind a stack of crates at the back wall.

His limbs were heavy as he approached his bed. Sure enough, a dark form lay tangled in the covers. Carl claimed to sleep with him for warmth, but lately there had been straying fingers and a hot breath on his neck. A hard shudder left Dani weak. He needed to get out of that house.

Defeated, his shoulders slumped. Where would he go? Who’d hire the boy who had sold candles on the street corner with his mother for years, and now stood out there alone, pale and hungry, shivering in his thin jacket?

A loud snort broke the silence, making him jump. Balling a hand into a fist, Dani went back to Carl’s room. Stepping inside, he listened intently, reassured by the muffled snores floating to him. He nudged the door closed and crossed to the large dresser beside the bed, the one piece of nice furniture in the apartment. It had been his mother’s, the only thing she had brought to the marriage from her old life, with roses carved into the oak around the mirror and on each drawer.

She never talked about that time, though the bits of lace and a pair of fine gloves spoke of wealth and happier days, before she had married the local candlemaker. Dani didn’t know why she’d done it, but she had been young and pretty and romantic, probably swept off her feet. Carl had been handsome, once. Their single wedding picture proved that. Before he began to drink.

After lighting the candle on the dresser top, Dani pulled open the heavy first drawer, careful not to let it squeak. Carl used the other drawers, but this one had been his mother’s, her clothing in neat piles, smelling of the lavender sachets she favored. Dani smiled despite his tears at the scent. He’d loved his sweet mother so much.

A small box in the corner held some trinkets and cheap jewelry. Dani picked out the hair comb she always wore, covered in bright plastic beads and ribbons. Pushing his hair back on the left, he slipped the comb in place, letting the ribbon curl against his cheek. He did resemble her a little, the glittering bauble softening his features. The candlelight made his eyes seem wider, softer. He bit his lips to redden them.

“Would you like me like this?” he asked his reflection, thinking of Christian, imagining his delighted gaze on him. Pain stabbed his heart. Mother had understood his moods, knowing somehow when he needed gentleness, chatting merrily while she brushed out his hair. Let him play with her jewelry.

Wistfulness touched the expression in the mirror. “But who could love a beast?” He paraphrased a line from the fairy tale Mother used to read to him. He’d loved that story, imagining the man who would one day see his beauty. But he was too thin. Too queer. Even if Christian liked men, Dani wasn’t one half the time. Besides, Christian had already rejected him. He didn’t think he would risk that again.

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Once Upon a Rainbow with A. Fae

Good morning! Today I’m very happy to say I have the fabulous A. Fae on my blog talking about her story Sleeping Beauty in the Once Upon a Rainbow anthology. Take it away, Ashley!

 *  *  *

OnceUponARainbowVolOne-f500Once Upon a Rainbow is an anthology of twisted fairy tales. It’s full of amazing short stories that allow people like me to see themselves in the stories we’ve been reading since childhood. What an amazing adventure!  

Sleeping Beauty was interesting to write. Initially, I was writing blind because I only vaguely knew about being intersex or transgender. It took a lot to make the characters accurate. But I thought it was important to give them an opportunity to live a fairy-tale life just like the originals did.  

I was a bit concerned since I was unfamiliar personally with the biology of being intersexed like my character, Princess Talia. And I wanted it to be correct, so I did quite a bit of research. The thing I ran into is that so many people don’t learn they’re intersexed until much later in life: Princess Talia knew at birth. So, I tried to build a semi-futuristic world. In this world, babies undergo a complete body scan at birth. This allowed the parents to know immediately after birth that their child was intersexed.  

Princess Savannah, born Prince Sebastian, was my butterfly. She knew from a very young age who she was. Again, I had to investigate what it was like to transition like she did when she was eighteen. The entire process made me aware of the struggles young people go through when they’re born in the wrong body. Being able to help Princess Savannah make that correction was a huge pleasure for me. 

I think I learned a ton from these characters about others in my community. I truly enjoyed bringing them and their stories to life. I hope I did them justice. And I truly hope you enjoy reading about them.  

Sleeping Beauty by A. Fae 

Two royal births: one born into the body of a prince and the other a princess, bodies betraying their true identity. They grow to be inseparable, both deciding to become their true selves as soon as they are able. But an ugly curse by a wicked godmother brings them to the brink of disaster. And only through true love’s kiss can they be united. 

Purchase Links: 

NineStar Press:  


Barnes & Noble: 



a faeA. Fae
NineStar Press Author
A. Fae lives in Texas with her two chihuahua children. Daily she bugs her daughter who just went off to college, thankful for FaceTime. When not writing, she is spending time with her best friend—her mother—watching TV/films or reading whatever she can get her hands on.
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