Short Story Excerpts

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Zombies in Love

Amazon

Something’s gone terribly wrong. In one breath, Patrick and Thomas have gone from a loving couple to zombies on the run, fighting to stay one step ahead of the dog pack sent to bring them down. What’s worse, Patrick seems to have lost his mind, a wide-eyed innocent not realizing their danger.

Heartbroken, Thomas wonders if he’ll ever get his lover back, let alone find the sanctuary rumored to be in the east, before their lives come to a depressing and rather horrifying end.

Excerpt:

• Patrick hummed under his breath, sounding happy as they walked through the dry grass, the crunch of their boots the only sound. But as time passed Thomas chewed at his lips, growing anxious as dusk descended and he didn’t spot a clump of boulders or a fallen oak tree they could hide in, the lone rock they’d just passed too small for both of them. He wasn’t afraid in the daylight. They rarely came across an uninfected person. But at night … The untouched ones gathered behind chain link and razor wire and set the dogs loose.

• As if on que a howl broke the stillness and his blood surged, heartbeat thundering in his ears.

• “Thomas?”

• Patrick’s tiny, scared voice made his protective instincts leap to the forefront. With a glance at the empty landscape ahead of them, he shoved Patrick toward the boulder behind them.

• “Climb!” He laced his fingers to boost him up, then scrambled after him, leaving scraps of rotting skin on the granite face. Once at the top, Patrick hunched down in the center of the semi-flat stone, wrapping his arms around his knees. Thomas hunkered down behind him, balanced on the balls of his feet on the inadequate space, and slid his arms around his shivering lover. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

• “I’m scared.”

• “I know, babe. Me too, but we’re together. I’ve got you.” He put a finger under Patrick’s chin and turned his head, lifting his wrecked face. “Can I kiss you, in case …” He left the obvious unsaid.

• For a second panic flickered in Patrick’s beautiful eyes. His lips parted and Thomas quickly covered them with his own, before he lost Patrick to the madness that often seized his mind in these instances of danger. There was the tang of death and rot, but under that he still tasted like Patrick, and love and pain swelled in Thomas’s chest.

• The dogs drew closer, their yelps and snarls echoing across the empty fields. Patrick whimpered and Thomas leaned to his ear. “Hide, baby. Lose yourself in some sweet dream.”

• The hounds broke from the trees and launched themselves at the rock. Patrick cried out, lurching back when a snarling muzzle snapped in his face. Thomas instinctively tightened his arms around him, steadying them both. Tighter, as the dogs leaped against the rock trying to get at them, and felt something give in Patrick’s body.

Oh God!

• “Patrick?”

• No answer. With that last convulsive hug, he’d crushed his lover’s rotting shell. Biting back a howl of anguish, no longer concerned with the raving dogs, he held Patrick to him, not caring as the soft flesh slid from his bones.

• “I’m so sorry,” he whispered brokenly, rocking Patrick in his arms. It couldn’t end like this. Unendurable loneliness crept from his heart. Despair. His sweet, sweet lover was gone. He didn’t care when the dogs fell silent, and crept away with a whine. Nothing mattered, and it was a moment before he felt the growing heat in the body he held.

What?

Sammy

Amazon

The first rule of working the streets is not to get attached to any of the clients, but Sammy can’t deny he’s rather fond of John, who actually seems to be a decent guy, on top of being hot.

The first rule of paying for sex is not to get attached to the prostitutes, but John is willing to admit to himself that he wishes Sammy was more than the guy he occasionally pays for sex.

It’s a good thing rules are meant to be broken.

Excerpt:

• Couples were enjoying the last of the day’s warmth on the waterfront and he envied them as he headed toward his apartment complex. His pulse sped up as he neared the Morton Bridge. Though it was after nine, traffic still flowed heavily on the bridge and also along Nathaniel Parkway.

• Passing under the bridge, he glanced down the bike path running alongside it, hoping to spot Sammy. His heart leaped to his throat on seeing the familiar figure huddled on the grass, arms wrapped around his knees, looking alone and dejected. John took a hesitant step toward him, but stopped. Would Sam want to talk to him? They weren’t really friends. John paid for his company.

• A soft sob floated on the night air and plunged straight into John’s heart. He hurried over to Sam, then stood biting his lips, not sure what to say. Damn, he hated this awkwardness between them.

• “What do you want?” Sammy’s voice sounded tired, rough with tears.

• “Do you need help? Can I do anything?”

• Sam raised his head, blue eyes shimmering at him through wet lashes. Recognition sparked in the anguished depths, then they widened in dismay. “You.” Sam struggled to his feet, hugging his bare arms across his chest against the chill creeping up from the river. “Sorry, I have to cancel on you. I’m closed for the night. Try again tomorrow.”

• He brushed past John and started down the bike path. John’s heart thumped painfully.

• “Sammy?”

• Sam stopped and swiveled abruptly to him. The lamplight caught his expression, a hint of fear, anger; the light clearly showing a cut lip and the dark swelling of a bruise on his ivory cheek. John clamped his teeth shut on a murmur of pity, noting Sam held his left arm as if it hurt. He clenched his hand in sudden fury. He’d been taking self-defense classes for half a year. In that instant he could have used every tactic he’d learned on the guy who’d hurt Sammy.

• He said instead, “Let me help you. I can make you a cup of coffee at least. And dinner, if you’re interested. I make a great spaghetti.”

• Doubt crossed Sam’s pretty face, and the end of his pink tongue nudged the cut on his lip, twisting John’s heart.

• Impulsively, he touched Sam’s arm. “Someone hurt you, didn’t they?”

• Sam stared at his hand, not answering, and John gave silent thanks he didn’t yank his arm away. Finally Sam nodded.

• Once again anger flashed through John, but he didn’t want to scare Sam off with questions. “Come home with me,” he urged softly. “I won’t ask anything of you. I want to help and … I could use the company tonight.”

• Blue eyes glanced upwards, vulnerable. But then Sam blinked and mischief curled his lips. John winced at his false bravado. “Whatever you say, hon.” Sam hooked their arms and started along the wide path following the riverfront. After only a few steps in the chill evening air, John shrugged out of his coat and put it around Sam’s shoulders. Sam looked amused, but pulled the coat tighter around his thin cotton shirt. “Thanks.”

John’s heart pattered. He liked Sam’s arm linked with his. A few people gave them curious glances, but for the most part they were ignored. He wished the circumstances were better, that maybe Sam was his boyfriend and they were walking home from the movies.

Nathaniel

Amazon

From the moment Taden rescues Nathaniel from the Sutherlin soldiers’ torture, he finds himself caught in the gaze of the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen; amazing eyes that hold him thrilled and confused. The Sutherlins are planning to invade the beautiful Tahon Valley, but as Taden secrets Nathaniel from their reach, he finds himself drawn to the young man. Not only does he feel the urge to protect him, but he feels an ache he hasn’t felt in many long years.

Nathaniel claims to be a traveler from a distant continent, saying he comes in peace. True or not, the youth has powers beyond anything Taden has seen — control over men and animals and the very weather. Taden falls hard for the strange traveler, protecting him not only from the Sutherlins but from his own mistrustful people, who don’t understand Nathaniel’s powers and accuse him of being a witch …

Excerpt:

• Taden waded through layers of sleep. There was a voice speaking urgently in his ear, and he forced his eyes open and winced at the sunlight.

• “Bryce?” he asked, and cleared his throat. The captain nodded and put a hand under his arm when he made the effort to sit up. Taden glanced at the rumpled blankets, and a small pain settled in his heart. Where was Nathaniel?

• “What are you doing here?” he asked to hide his dismay. “I thought I told you to go to the Duke.”

• “I sent the boys on,” Bryce said. He sat back on his heels, his gray eyes focused on Taden’s face. “I have to applaud the witch. I lost your path by midmorning yesterday –“

• “Don’t call him that,” Taden warned.

• Bryce shrugged. “As you wish, but there’s not many who can lose me once I’m on their trail. I despaired of finding you until I came across Conor, who seemed to know exactly where you were.”

• Taden climbed to his feet and plucked the blankets from the ground. “Conor? Nathaniel’s cousin?”

• Bryce gave him a dark look. “Come and see,” he said, and Taden followed him into the glen. He swore under his breath as they passed the spring. The horses were missing as well as his pack and supplies. Damn the lad, he thought, feeling betrayed.

• A man rose from the smoldering fire as they came up, slim and dark, his skin light brown. Taden stopped, pinned in place by the man’s rich brown eyes, snared. He clenched his hands as something crawled across him mind, seeking entrance to his thoughts. But then Conor blinked, and a mocking smile flitted across his handsome face.

• “I see my cousin’s put his mark on you,” the man drawled, and Taden flushed at his derisive eyes. “He protects your mind from … well, men like me. Pity. They must be interesting thoughts to have captured his interest so quickly. Usually Nathaniel’s far more circumspect.”

• “What are you doing in Netherlin?” Taden asked, purposefully abrupt. He’d be damned if he’d allow the haughty man to have everything his way. Anger swept the stranger’s face, and Bryce stepped hastily between them.

• “Lord Taden, this is Conor, from across the sea –“

• “I don’t care where he’s from. Conor? I find it interesting that you’ve come at the same time the Sutherlins are mounting forays into the valley.”

• A sneer curled the mobile lips. “Why should I care about the doings of your little country? Nathaniel and the sweet vixen he travels with have defied me. I’ve come to take them home. Those soldiers are merely tools to that end.”

“Is that so?” Taden’s dislike of the man was growing by the instant. Despite his physical beauty, there was a fey look in Conor’s dark eyes that urged caution.

Memories in Stone

Amazon

Gilly is dying. He knows this, and in an act of desperation and grief, calls upon all his strength and the energies of the earth to imbue the twelve stones he’d gathered, shot through with crystals, with the memories of the life he’d shared with Finian, his husband and lover.

With this he hopes to leave Finian, at the very least, with the joy of their time together. But he wishes for more. As a witch of singular power, he risks all he is in this final gamble. To move forward with Finian, or die alone, as he always had been.

• “Go slowly, Braedyn, or you’ll frighten him,” Gilly cautioned.

• “I will, Papa,” Braedyn promised in his solemn way.

• “Let me help you,” Finian offered. He reached down, and Braedyn slipped his small hand in his, leaning against him as they walked toward the young fawn. Watching them, Gilly’s heart melted with tenderness for these two people he loved most in all the world. It was hard to believe Braedyn had been with them almost five years. It seemed like yesterday he’d walked these same paths with Cyntia, gathering mushrooms and planning their fall gardens.

• “I know you’re proud of him,” he murmured to her memory, feeling her loving spirit dancing in the cool forest air. Sometimes Gilly’s mother and father walked with him in times of trouble; but Cyntia was never far from Braedyn. Gilly remained unsure if the boy could sense her, but Braedyn smiled often, a cheerful if serious child, perhaps aware of her love and protection. The gods knew he had Gilly’s heart, always.

• Finian brought Braedyn to a stop a few paces from the fawn and they knelt, Finian’s arm across the child’s shoulders. Gilly held his breath. Finian had been teaching the child patience, something he claimed he lacked as much as Braedyn. After a long moment Braedyn squirmed, but when the fawn turned its head toward him, he froze. Gilly sensed his excitement, but this time Braedyn kept his place until the fawn nibbled at the grass then moved further into the forest, lost from sight in the fern and underbrush.

• They rose, and Braedyn swiveled to him, his young face wreathed in smiles. “Did you see, Papa! He liked me! I didn’t scare him.”

• “You did very well.”

• Braedyn ran to him and Gilly scooped him up in his arms, swinging him around while the boy whooped his joy. Gilly’s chest swelled with love until he could barely breathe.

• “Thank you for this precious gift,” he murmured to Cyntia while he held Braedyn too tightly.

• “Papa!” Braedyn laughed and pushed against him. Gilly let him down with a sheepish smile to Finian. Finian came up and slipped an arm around his waist, making Gilly feel safe and secure; loved, as Finian always did. After so many years alone, he couldn’t believe he’d been blessed with this wonderful man and child. How did he deserve …

• Finian held him closer, attuned to his moods, and kissed his cheek, filling Gilly once again with confidence. Glancing at Braedyn, absorbed in an interesting leaf, he turned his head and kissed Finian on the mouth, enjoying the velvet slide of his lips and the sweet tongue meeting his. Feeling brave, Gilly pulled back slightly.

• “Do you have any lessons for me today, Finian?” he asked archly, hoping he didn’t sound as foolish as he suddenly felt. A grin leaped on Finian’s face.

• “As a matter of fact –“

• They jumped apart at Braedyn’s sudden squeal, and Gilly’s heart raced as his gaze searched for the danger.

• “What are these, Papa? Dada?”

• Finian chuckled under his breath and exchanged a relieved look with him. They both hunched down and observed the two shiny beetles Braedyn had uncovered.

• “These are stag beetles. Note those pincers?” Gilly used a thin stick as a pointer, not touching the agitated creatures. Braedyn reached for them and Gilly touched his arm to stop him. “Leave them be, little man. We are here to protect nature, not disturb the balance.”

• Finian gave him a dry look over Braedyn’s head, his brows lifting. Finian was far less careful. If Gilly hadn’t been there, he probably would have sat in the moss with Braedyn and played with the insects, allowing them to go on their way only after Braedyn had tired of the game.

• Gilly sighed, glancing away to look unseeing into the trees. How tiresome he must be to these two adventurous souls. He suddenly felt as old as the forest; the insular and querulous witch the town thought him. A cave by himself in the hills seemed fitting —

• “No. I won’t let you go.” Finian pulled him close to his side. “Whatever is going on in that wise but misguided head of yours, stop it. No, don’t say it,” Finian warned when Gilly opened his mouth to protest. “Your expressive face gives you away, every time. You belong to us as surely as the sun rises.”

• Braedyn stood and flung his arms around Gilly, burying his face against his side. “I love you, Papa.” He was silent a moment, then looked up at Gilly, his blue eyes dancing with excitement. “Are you going somewhere? Can I go with you?”

• Finian laughed, and the joy in his voice brought tears stinging to Gilly’s eyes. “Of course you can, Braedyn! We’ll travel to the Silver Valley on a quest for the best mushrooms. Come,” he held out his hand and Braedyn took it. “Let’s go pack.”

• Finian kissed Gilly’s cheek then headed down the trail toward home, Braedyn skipping at his side. They usually made the journey later in the season, camping several days in the lovely valley filled with wildflowers along the creek, and mushrooms growing under the towering trees. But if his family wanted to go now …

Gilly drew a shaky breath and walked after his men, giving thanks to the universe for his great good fortune …

Costumes

Amazon

There’s a presence in the attic, malevolent, waiting. When Bennie’s aunt passes away, he’s given the task of sorting her things before the estate sale. But the chore that should have been a pleasant visit to the past becomes a nightmare for him and his longtime lover Jordan as the dark presence in the attic seeks a new home in them.

Their once gentle and sensual love turns to a dark passion, hard and rough and hurtful. Jordan sees the change, but will his love be strong enough to save them?

Excerpt:

• He ran a shaking hand over his hair. What the hell was going on? Bennie had never been timid in his life, and here he was clinging to Jordan like some helpless damsel in distress.

Fuck.

• “Knock it off,” he muttered and jerked his arm out of Bennie’s hands. Ignoring his whimpers, he stood and walked out from behind the dresser.

• “Where are you, asshole?” he called out, clutching the cane in both hands like a bat. Of course nothing answered, and he paced the length of the attic, his gaze searching the shadows. He sniffed the air. No stench of rotting flesh, so he didn’t have to worry about the living dead.

• Jordan snorted at the absurd turn his thoughts had taken. Just because the original owners had been from New Orleans didn’t mean voodoo was involved. Passing the dresser he’d had Bennie on earlier, a sudden, burning lust shot through him. He wanted Bennie up there, now!

• “Get out of my head!” he cried out. Pain slashed behind his eyes and he reeled back, and stumbled over something on the floor. Discordant notes from the music box jarred along his nerves and echoed in his head. He clutched his hair. “Make it stop!” Pain exploded through his body, dropping him to his knees. He sobbed at the exquisite torture.

• Hands touched him and he cringed away, but then familiar arms wrapped around him and he leaned into Bennie’s hold. Tremors ran his body and Bennie brushed the hair off his damp face and placed little kisses on his cheeks.

• “Let’s get out of here,” Bennie urged in his ear.

Fuck, yeah.

• Bennie helped him stand and they headed for the attic stairs. Blinded by the ruthless pounding in his head, Jordan let Bennie guide him. His sight cleared at the doorway, but he pretended otherwise, pulling Bennie along with him out of that crazy-ass room.

• They stumbled downstairs and Jordan pulled Bennie into his arms at the bottom. “Thank God you’re safe,” he murmured, and crushed Bennie’s slim body against his. He breathed him in, skin and soap and the hint of musty clothing and sweat. This was Bennie, his lover and best friend. He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost him.

• Bennie wiggled in his arms and raised his face. “I can’t breathe, babe. You okay?”

• “Yeah. That music gave me a horrible headache, but I’m better now.” Jordan yawned, wrung out. “I feel like we should finish up here and leave as soon as possible, but I’m exhausted. I need to lie down for a bit. Come with me?”

• A teasing smile touched Bennie’s lips. “Sure you can sleep with me in your bed?”

• “Brat. I’ll give it a good try,” Jordan answered and swatted Bennie’s bottom on the way to the bedroom. The unexpected chime of the doorbell gave him pause, and he and Bennie exchanged a puzzled look.

• “Who could that be?” Bennie frowned, irritation flashing in his eyes.

• Unsettled, Jordan pushed him toward the bedroom. “Go ahead and lie down. I’ll see who it is.”

Bennie glared at the front door, then shook his head in disgust. “Don’t be long,” he warned, and continued to the bedroom while Jordan crossed to the door, not sure he wanted to answer it.

The Mirror Maze

Amazon

Cory loves the carnival. Even as an adult, the lights and color, flashing rides, popcorn and cotton candy, all hold a special allure for him. Especially this year, when the men seem extraordinarily beautiful and Jules, the barker for the Mirror Maze, ran away with his heart from the moment Cory first saw him in his purple-satin and leather uniform.

For Jules, the carnival is life, the other carnies his family, friends, lovers. He can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. But the carnival has a secret that, if found out, could bring an end to their ideal existence. What with falling in love with a local man and a detective dogging their heels about the body found on the hill above the fairgrounds, his perfect life just might be changing, and he has no idea if it is for the better.

Excerpt:

“You guys are with the carnival. I’m Detective Sundell. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

Lex shrugged, undisturbed, and the two men pulled out chairs to join them. Amber sat next to Cory, pressing his thigh against him, warm and firm, and heat seeped up Cory’s leg to his groin. He glanced at Amber’s delicate profile, wisps of purple hair caressing his flawless skin. Was he also Jules’s lover? He pictured the two men in his bed, hot lips and talented fingers roaming his body. Lex looked at him and Cory’s lips parted on a soundless moan as he saw his own pale limbs twined with his dark beauty.

Michael got right to the point. “Do either of you know anything about the body found on the hill overlooking the fairgrounds?”

With his gaze still riveted on Cory, Lex replied, “Wasn’t he some tramp or something?”

“We’re not sure. But he was dumped there the same night the carnival pulled into town. You didn’t notice anything while setting up the tents and whatnot?”

“The carnie’s see to that,” Lex said dismissively. “I was in my hotel room the moment we hit town.”

“Alone?”

Lex licked his lips. “Now where’s the fun in that?” he drawled while Amber dropped a hand on Cory’s thigh and squeezed lightly, nearly drawing another moan from him. The barista came up and set two compostable coffee cups on the table. Lex rose to his feet, Amber reluctantly following.

“Sorry we couldn’t be of more help,” Lex told Michael. “Drop by the carnival anytime if you have any more questions.” He turned his bright gaze back to Cory. “I’ll see you later,” he promised in a low tone that vibrated through Cory.

Amber lifted a strand of Cory’s hair, twisting the light brown lock around a finger. “Bye,” he said reluctantly and hurried after Lex. Cory tried not to stare at his sweet ass as they left the shop.

“Well, that was…interesting,” Michael opined, his speculative gaze on Cory. That was an understatement. Instead of replying, Cory took a sip of his sweet coffee, wondering if Lex’s tongue would taste as rich. And would Amber’s creamy skin hint at peaches? Everywhere?

He blinked, straightening in his chair. He had a boyfriend, for fuck’s sake. What was he doing thinking about those other guys?

Michael pulled a worn notebook out of a pocket and opened to a blank page. “You obviously have an in with the carnival folk. Seen anything suspicious? Has anyone been talking about the murder?”

Cory shook his head. “Not that I’ve noticed, but I’m mostly there late afternoons, after school, to give Jules a ride home.”

“About that. You hooked up with him damned quick, when it was months before you let me taste your dick. What do you really know about him, besides the fact he must be a good lay?”

Cory glared at him. “None of your fucking business. Can I go, detective?” He stood and grabbed his cup, intending to clear it to the counter.

Michael put a hand on his arm to stop him. “I’m sorry. Guess I’m ticked you replaced me so quickly. Never mind that. I’d like you to do me a favor.”

Cory raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I can’t get anyone at the carnival to talk to me. If we went to the hillside where the victim was found, maybe someone would notice—”

“I’m not spying for you,” Cory said in disgust.

“Of course not. But if someone saw you up there and started acting strangely… You can let me know that much, can’t you? Tell you what,” he added when Cory hesitated. “We’ll take separate cars. That way I won’t make you feel trapped, restricted. You could leave any time.”

Little Match Girl

Amazon

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.

EXCERPT:

The door chimed, but Christian finished wiping down the coffee machine. He wouldn’t appear too eager.

“Hey, Christian, isn’t that your fairy?” Jordan mocked in a stage whisper from where he was adding wood to the fire. Asshole.

Christian leaned a hip on the counter, his gaze intent on the guy sliding into the corner booth. He came to the sandwich shop almost every night right before closing time to order a coffee, rain or shine. Or like tonight, when it was beginning to snow. None of the other waiters would deal with him. Not that Christian blamed them. Dani never tipped more than fifty cents, if that much.

That didn’t bother him. The man was beautiful, wispy blond hair cut in a pixie style around his sweet face. Big gray eyes full of shadows. Christian gave him a minute to count out his change on the glossy tabletop like he did each night and then made his way toward him around the scattered tables and sofas. The fireplace warmed the cozy seating area, empty now since most of the students from the nearby college had gone home for winter break. Wind howled at the windows, but they were snug enough inside.

“Hi, Dani. How’s it going?” he asked like he always did.

“I’m good,” came Dani’s standard reply in a lilting voice that made Christian’s pulse jump. Dani peered up at him, his expression somehow softer tonight, his spectacular eyes less fierce. He bit a plump lip, betraying his nerves, and Christian stifled a groan. He’d dreamed of those lips swallowing his dick only the night before.

As if guessing his thoughts, Dani lowered his gaze, pretty color flooding his cheeks. Christ, he was gorgeous, his features neither masculine nor feminine. If Christian didn’t know for a fact he was a man, he would have thought Dani a girl tonight, despite his rough clothing. There was something decidedly sweet about him, a definite change when he showed his gentler side. Christian wondered what it would be like to have Dani in his bed in this mood. The thought of him, soft and yielding, in direct contrast to a hard cock, had Christian stiffening inconveniently. He took a seat opposite Dani in the booth to hide his interest.

“Hi,” he said again when Dani gave him a tentative glance. “Coffee and sandwich, as usual?”

Hunger flashed over Dani’s face, but he dropped his gaze and moved the coins on the table around with a fine-boned finger. “Only coffee, please.” His voice cracked, and he covered his eyes with a shaking hand. “I’m sorry. I barely have enough money for that. Nothing for a tip.”

“I don’t care about that,” Christian said, leaning forward. Only then did he notice how pale Dani appeared, face pinched with cold. Surely his jacket was too thin for December? “Did you eat today?” he asked with concern and stared when Dani shrugged, noncommittal. Appalled, remembering that Dani hadn’t come in yesterday, Christian unconsciously raised his voice. “Did you eat yesterday?”

Dani made a violent movement as if to stand. “I’ll go—”

“Sit down, please. I’ll get your coffee,” Christian assured him, heart squeezed by the guy’s distress.

He rose to his feet and crossed the room. Rounding the counter, he called into the tiny kitchen where his coworker was washing dishes while he pulled a mug from the cupboard over his head. “Jordan, I’m taking my break. Can you bring me a sandwich and the leftover soup?”

Jordan looked up from the sink and sauntered over to him, drying his hands on a dishtowel. He glanced at their only customer and frowned. “What? You’re going to feed the little queer now?”

Anger burned through Christian, and he stepped up to Jordan, lifting his chin when Jordan stared him in surprise. “Just what’s your problem with Dani?”

The redhead blinked, and then a slight sneer curled his lips. “Sorry, man. I know you’re gay and all, but at least you’re a guy. I don’t know what that is.” Jordan flashed Dani a scowl.

Christian balled his hand into a fist. “He’s a fucking human being, asshole. That’s all you need to know. Now, get my dinner.”

He turned back to making the coffee, relieved when Jordan huffed but returned to the kitchen. Jordan was a big guy and could probably snap him in two, but Christian was so over the homophobic crap he dealt with in this small town. He needed to seriously consider moving back to Portland.

Coffee made, he added steamed milk and chocolate. Dani usually had his coffee black, but he definitely needed the calories. He peered across the room and smiled. Dani was undeniably lovely in the glow from the fireplace. What was his story? Christian couldn’t remember seeing him around town, though he’d lived there almost two years, attending the local college.

He joined Dani at the table, delighted when his eyes widened as Christian pushed the mug in front of him, mounded high with whip cream.

“Just drink it,” he warned when Dani opened his mouth as if to protest. The color deepened in Dani’s face, but he obediently picked up a spoon. Christian watched, mesmerized, as he brought a dollop of cream to his mouth, the spoon passing those exquisite lips. Dani’s eyelids instantly fluttered, bliss suffusing his face, starting an ache in the pit of Christian’s gut. He imagined Dani would look like that lost in orgasm. Something he keenly wanted to see.

Stuck on Rewind

AMAZON

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?

Excerpt:

“Fuck!” Ashton shouted in a mixture of anger and ecstasy as Lance swallowed again, then let Ashton’s 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 groaned, 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. “Damn it—”

Soft fingers touched his mouth. “Don’t be mad, baby. I didn’t mean anything.”

Ashton peered at him through the dark curls that had flopped into his eyes. 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 Lance’s cheek, the velvet skin warm with a blush. “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 open 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 a hint of sweat as he’d whispered, “If you can’t type a simple letter without mistakes, I’ll find a secretary who can.” He’d 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?”

Callum’s Fate

Amazon

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?

Excerpt:

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.

Sweet William

AMAZON

William Wilkerson leads the life of the privileged rich. Head of his father’s shipping business, he indulges to his heart’s content in the pleasures of the flesh with Boston’s finest young men.
That is, until he reunites with Fredrick: his former tutor and the one man who captured his heart.
But William’s father has declared Fredrick off limits. And Fredrick, himself, believes he’s beneath the attention of the Wilkerson heir.
After having lost his current pupil to graduation, and with no prospects of a replacement, Frederick is homeless, hungry, and easy pickings for the men on the docks.
When Frederick is shanghaied into service on William’s own merchant ship, will William discover his plight in time to rescue him?

Excerpt:

Fredrick held up his glass and stared at the candle’s flame through the amber liquid. He took a sip and savored the rich, biting taste on his tongue, welcoming the burn down his throat. This was the very last drink he could afford, and he had to enjoy it.

A giggle erupted from someone out of sight on the back staircase, and a smile tugged his lips, despite the dire state of his wallet. The laugh had been carefree, joyous, naughty. Fredrick shifted on the cushioned bench. The lunch hour had passed, and he was the only customer in the dining room. He wondered if the innkeeper up front would notice if he adjusted his cramped cock as it throbbed in sympathy with the bright laughter that reminded him of his own ardent affair.

Rather than risk it, he watched the fruit vender outside the window beguile a customer. Another giggle and stifled moan floated down to him and he grinned, even though the laughter emphasized his own loneliness. It had been far too long since he’d had someone in his bed.

Fredrick looked up at the clatter of footsteps, distracted from his memory of lush lips, white skin, and wide hazel eyes. He caught a glimpse of red hair and an embarrassed cheek before the gentleman crammed a hat on his head.

“Damned Wilkerson,” the man muttered as he passed him, face averted.

With conscious effort, Fredrick loosened his hold on his glass, but he had no way to stop the wild hammering of his heart. Wilkerson? Could it really be…? Perhaps not, but the Wilkerson family he knew had strong ties to Boston. At least, the father often traveled there. But did William come now? He had to know. Before he lost his courage, he stood and swallowed the last of the brandy and then crossed the room to the staircase.

He shook his head at his eagerness. It had been three years, after all, and they’d parted in anger. Would William acknowledge him? A man stepped onto the landing and Fredrick allowed his gaze to travel up the white spats and checkered trousers. Blood heated his face when he found the silk vest and shirt open at the throat to expose soft white skin.

A sigh brought his gaze up to the attractive face that stirred his dreams. Rich brown curls surrounded lovely hazel eyes and full, pouting lips. Panic swept the pretty face, and then a delighted smile revealed the even white teeth that had nipped his collarbone on more than one glorious occasion.

“Freddie, is it you?”

Robin’s Confession

AMAZON

How can Robin find true love without accepting himself first?

Sweet, shy, gender fluid; Robin hides who he is, molding himself into what society views as ‘normal’, finding solace in the intricate pattern of scars he carves into his arms.

That is, until he starts dating Jase, the new man at his father’s construction company and the one who seems to want Robin for who he is, dresses and all. Jase even stands up to his own parents for Robin’s sake, risking his father’s anger and his chance to go to college. Robin is poised on the edge of happiness, ready to step into Jase’s open arms. Yet how can he believe in Jase’s love without first learning to believe in himself?

Excerpt:

Robin leaned closer to the mirror, widening his eyes to apply liner and a touch of mascara. Careful. Jase had really torn into a girl at the club last night, reducing her to tears with his snide remarks to wash her clown face off, for God’s sake. She had overdone the eyeshadow and rouge, but really…

His hand shook and Robin took several deep breaths before coating his full lips with gloss, cherry crush. He thought it was Jase’s favorite. At least his kisses seemed more heated when he wore it.

Tossing back the dark ringlets he’d made in his hair, Robin checked their affect. Super cute. He added a few more curls to his bangs with the iron, pulling them down to brush against his eyelashes and saw the worry creasing his forehead. It’s going to be okay.

His gaze flicked to the neat rows of scars marching down the inside of his arms. The deeper gouges on each forearm had been inked into rose vines, but feathery wisps of scars still showed around them. Nevertheless, he hadn’t cut in years. Didn’t need to. He looked up. “It’s going to be all right,” he said more firmly to the image staring back at him with scared brown eyes. Robin stood and smoothed the white sleeveless sundress over his chest, flicked his thumbs over the hint of nipples. A shiver of pleasure traveled his body, making him grin.

He twirled, feeling pretty, desirable, femme. He adored the way the cool nylon caressed his skin and clung to the slight bulge of his dick. Robin’s smile slipped. What would Jase think of him, dressed like this? Doubt slithered into his dream of a happily ever after and his stomach churned with worry. It had taken months to capture Jase’s attention. He’d just had the best three weeks of his life with his insatiable boyfriend, full of laughter and crazy sex.

But what if Jase wasn’t ready to see this part of him? Fear touched his heart. What if Jase was never ready? He drew a quivering breath, not sure he could handle his rejection.

The slam of the front door made his heart race a thousand miles an hour. Oh, shit. Robin’s gaze darted frantically around the overturned bathroom. No place to hide.

“Babe, where are you?”

Fuck! Why did he have to put on this fucking dress? Everything was ruined. Robin backed against the sink, miserable as the door swung wide.

Jase’s gaze burned over him and something flickered in his blue eyes. “What’s this shit?”

Robin’s heart clenched, anguish knotting in his throat. Making a strangled sound, he pushed passed Jase and fled their bedroom. He had to get away. He ignored Jase’s shout and darted across the living room and through the opened sliding glass door, escaping outside.

Sprinting across the lawn into the trees, he hid behind a tall maple when the tears made it impossible to see. Oh, Jesus. Oh, fuck. Jase would throw him out and he’d be alone again.

“Fucking little queer,” he muttered, just then hating who he was. Why did he have to be this way?

“Hope you’re not talking to me.”

Without Aiden

 Amazon

Is a gift of love enough to open Aiden’s heart and let Tris back in?

After the car accident that killed his parents and left his sister paralyzed, Tris is left with nothing. His family is destroyed. His reputation is shot. And all he has is the guilt of knowing it was all his fault. People in town know he’d been drinking that night, and know he should never have gotten behind the wheel. And even Aiden, the man he thought he’d be with forever, blames him too much to stay.

But Tris can’t let him just disappear. After months of loneliness and isolation, Tris brings Aiden a gift on his birthday, a hawk he’s carved from a chunk of wood they’d found in the forest during an afternoon of love. A small chink seems to open in Aiden’s heart, the first sign of forgiveness. With renewed hope, Tris takes a job renovating one of the older homes in town and tries to rebuild his life. But the townspeople have long memories, and when his sister’s condition worsens, forgiveness—and Aiden—seem to slip even further out of reach…

Excerpt:

It had been three fucking months. Aiden had to talk to him, give him a hint of that gorgeous smile he lived for. Shit. What if Aiden wasn’t alone?

Tris locked his bike at the empty stand and tucked wisps of light hair behind his ears with a shaky hand. Aiden’s red Fiat sat in its space outside his apartment door. At least he was home this morning. He could easily be spending his birthday with someone else.

Paling at the thought, Tris slung his pack on his shoulder and walked to the door. He had nothing to lose at this point. He didn’t expect much, but maybe they could talk. Clear the air. Tris missed him. God, he’d suffered hell. Months of empty days and long, achy nights without his lover.

He rapped on the door and his heart sank when he heard voices and a soft laugh inside. Jealousy bit through him, but he shoved it away. Didn’t matter. He’d brought Aiden a gift and he’d be damned if he was leaving without delivering it.

He lifted his hand, then dropped it to his side and laughed without humor. He’d worn his best jacket too. As if Aiden would be impressed with anything he did. He set the backpack at his feet and carefully removed the small tissue-wrapped box.

He hefted it in his hand, heavier than it looked, and gently stroked a thumb over it. Damn. All of his love and yearning had gone into this gift he’d promised Aiden on one of their hikes in the forest outside town. Tris’s breath quickened as he recalled the exact moment, Aiden naked and sweaty in his arms, Tris’s spent cock in his hot ass. He rolled to his back when Aiden nudged him with his elbow. “What…”

“Didn’t you feel that?” Aiden’s hand dove under the jackets they were lying on and came up with the offending knot of wood. He rubbed his side. “Bet I get a bruise.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Tris reached for the chunk, but Aiden shrugged and tossed it with their backpacks.

“Make me something with it,” Aiden ordered. They both looked up at a piercing cry. A hawk swooped over the treetops. “Carve him for me.”

Tris glanced at his darling and his heart flipped over. Aiden’s dark hair stood in wild disarray around his beautiful face. Tris leaned close and sucked the beckoning full bottom lip into his mouth. He groaned, recalling the silver hoop in the luscious flesh sliding over his dick earlier.

Aiden murmured approval and his tongue dove in, the silver ball in its center grazing the roof of Tris’s mouth, sending a shiver of lust through him. He gripped Aiden’s hair, holding him in place as their tongues twined and fenced.

Tris jolted back to the moment when the apartment door suddenly opened in his face. The blood rushed from his heart and roared in his ears. Aiden leaned against the door frame and Tris’s hungry gaze ran over his slim body, his mouth going dry at the soft line of curls disappearing into the tattered shorts sitting low on Aiden’s hips. He jerked his attention back to Aiden’s eyes, meeting his intense blue gaze.

*  *  *  *

Sam’s Turn

LOTR fanfic written in 2005, so be gentle!

http://greenbooks.theonering.net/moonletters/creative/files/061104_02.html