Friday, July 24, 2015

Tease Me Thursday- Excerpt from WIP- Fantasy M/M Erotic Romance

Excerpt from my untitled WIP Erotic Fantasy Romance Series...

His eyes are so blue they look like the sea.  Is that normal?

Blair frowned as he stared at the gorgeous man.  Tall, lean and muscular with light golden brown hair cut short with blunt burnished blond tips in front.  The man had been sitting at the bar, drinking in silence for the last hour occasionally looking at the mirror that lined the wall behind the large wooden counter.  He lifted his glass and swirled the amber colored liquid then drank it.

 Blair licked his lips.  His mouth suddenly felt like it had been filled with sand.  The problem was the only way his thirst could be satisfied was by the tall drink of water sitting at the other end of the bar.  The man was hot with a sprinkling of bad ass on the side.

I gotta stop looking at him.  He's gonna think I'm a stalker.  Or some other kind of weirdo.

Just like himself, the man drank alone at the bar. Yet unlike him, he had no interest in the happenings around him, save for the whereabouts of the bartender whenever his glass became empty from barreling down the shots of whiskey.

Blair glanced at his club soda and wondered why he was in such a dive, drinking what was obviously more fit for a ladies luncheon than a hardcore place such as this. But then this being his first foray away from home, how else was he to learn the protocols of coolness until he experimented?

The music blaring from the speaker's slowed to a gentle hum.  Suddenly the conversations around him seemed louder.  He inhaled paused then exhaled loudly.

“Okay here goes nothing,” he said pushing himself away from the bar.

Blair mustered all of his courage and walked over to him, sliding onto the seat beside him.

“Bartender,” the man said.

The bartender walked to him.  “Another?”

“Of course,” the man said with a edge in his voice.

Blair cleared his throat.  “Umm, I've got this.  I'll pay for his drink.”

“Thanks but you don't have to,” the man replied.

“I want to.”

He shrugged his shoulders.  “Suit yourself.”

The bartender poured him another drink.  This time the man didn't pick it up but gazed at it.

“What's your name?” he asked still looking at the glass.

“Blair Dakotah.  Yours?”

The man pursed his lips, then lifted the glass, placed it in front of his lips and sipped.  “Cicero.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Blair said extending his hand.

Friday, July 17, 2015

Shakedown by Michelle Roth

Hi there, everyone! I'm Michelle Roth and I'm here to introduce my latest release, Shakedown. Diamond and Diamond is a bit of a departure from anything that I've written thus far. My previous works have all been ultra-realistic contemporary romance. Shakedown still has the sexy, steamy elements just like any other erotic romance, but it also incorporates a bit of suspense and mystery as well. I certainly hope you enjoy!


Private Detective Mike Diamond is the low man on the totem pole. More often than not he finds himself investigating insurance fraud or cheating spouses. When he's assigned a dog-napping case, he is on the brink of refusing until he meets the client. One look at her changes everything.

When the police refuse to investigate her case, Cassidy Werner turns to Diamond and Diamond Private Investigators. Despite the bad first impression he's given her, Cassidy still hires Mike to help her find her prize Tibetan Mastiff. As she gets to know him, she realizes that he's not only dedicated to getting Roddy back for her, but also a pretty great guy.

Right after she receives a ransom demand, things begin to heat up between them. Will Mike be able to crack the case and save her dog? And if he can, does that mean that he gets the girl too?


He was relieved to find the lobby was empty, so he stopped back at Lara's desk and asked, “Can you believe that shit? A dog napping?”

He didn't think for a minute she hadn't overheard every word. That woman was like the KGB and Secret Service all in one. Anything happened in this office, she had it under immediate surveillance.

Lara cuffed him on the arm and said, “She's in the bathroom, idiot.”

Mike winced, feeling bad he'd probably been overheard. But, seriously, who hired a PI to find a lost dog?
Seconds later, the bathroom door slowly opened. He almost did a double take as the woman stepped out. Aside from red eyes that had clearly been crying, she was a looker.

She was elegantly dressed and somewhere near his age, with a riot of auburn curls trailing down her back, like some sort of mermaid siren. All ripe, lush curves. He'd always liked his women soft.

And, he was ogling this obviously distraught woman like she was a steak. Not that he wouldn't be more than interested in taking a bite, but it was clear that now wasn't the time. So instead of voicing his thoughts, he stuck his hand out and said, “Mike Diamond. And you are?”

“Cassidy Werner,” she said, not bothering to stick her hand out.

Well, apparently she'd heard him. He'd need to apologize, if the look on her face was any indication. He dropped his hand and said, “My office is this way.”

She gave him a look that screamed 'You're on thin ice, buddy' but moved toward the open office door that Mike had gestured to. He followed her, once again appreciating the hourglass waist and full hips. Damn.
He moved behind his desk and gestured to one of the worn chairs. When she had settled in, he asked, “So I understand your dog has been kidnapped?”


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Author Bio:

Michelle Roth is a novelist from the Great White North (Toronto, ON). When she’s not disappearing into foreign lands, or making two perfect strangers that she invented fall in love, she’s probably curled up somewhere with a glass of wine and a good book.

In her spare time she is typically hanging out with her awesome boyfriend and their two equally awesome cats. She likes taking road trips to nowhere in particular, cooking elaborate meals then making other people do the dishes, and being nerdy on the internet. Her books are currently available on Amazon, Nook, Kobo, and any other place that sells absolutely filthy romance novels.


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Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Flight of Fancy by Stormy Glenn


Eddie Jacks is on the run. He just wants to make it back home so he can pack his stuff before his ex-boyfriends comes after him. When he reaches his seat on the airplane, it’s occupied by a striking man with a broken nose. But there’s an air of mystery around the ruggedly handsome man that makes Eddie wish for things best forgotten.

Virgil Brown just wanted to make it back to Wolf Creek. After a particularly long and dangerous mission, he’s a little banged up and in need of some serious sleep. When a cutest guy he’s ever seen takes the seat next to him, Virgil is confused by the instant interest he has in the klutzy man.

Deciding to see where things go, Virgil discovers that there is more to Eddie than meets the eye. Not only is Eddie his mate, but the man has secrets even Eddie wasn’t aware of. When his ex comes for him, Virgil and Eddie have to trust that fate won’t tear them apart when they just found each other.


Eddie Jacks glanced down at his airplane ticket. Seat 3C. He glanced up at the big blue numbers on the overhead. Seats 3C and 3D were right next to each other. The only problem was that his assigned seat—3C—was taken.

“Um, excuse me,” Eddie said. He wanted to be polite as possible because the guy was huge and looked like he ate trucks for breakfast and he was in Eddie’s seat and Eddie wasn’t a truck. He didn’t want to take the chance. “I think you have my seat.”

Baby blue eyes the color of a robin’s egg looked up and pinned on him, piercing like the guy could see right into his soul. Eddie swallowed the sudden bout of fear that tried to crawl up his spine. He held up his ticket. “I’m 3C.”

His eyes rounded when the man’s large hands tightened on the arms rests until they crackled. “I could take the window seat if you preferred.” He didn’t like it, but arguing with this guy did not seem to be in his best interest.

The man just stared at him.

Yeah…“I’ll just put my bag away and—” He stifled his squeak just in time as the bag in his hand was taken and stuffed into the overhead compartment before the compartment door was slammed closed. “Thank you.”

The man stood back, a clear indication that Eddie was supposed to move past him and sit in the window seat. Eddie scooted into the narrow space between their seats and the row in front of them to the one by the window. By the time he sat down, the large man was taking the aisle seat once again.

Eddie snapped his seatbelt in place. He went to rest his hand on the armrest only to jerk back when he realized the man next to him was holding the armrest in an iron grip. Again. His knuckles were turning white. Again.

“Not a flier?”

Eddie pressed his lips and glanced away when those intense blue eyes turned on him once again. They were a little nerve-racking. Powerful. Eddie wondered if the man could read his mind? He sure stared hard enough.

Eddie raised the blind to look out the small oval window. His eyes rounded when the man reached over and pulled the blind back down in a hard jerky gesture.

Okay then.

He glanced at the guy next to him again. “Going on vacation?”

Okay, not a conversationalist. The sour glare he received could have scorched the hair off his toes. This was going to be a very long flight.

Eddie twisted his lips together. Waiting. He hated waiting. He especially hated waiting when there was nothing to do. He was almost thankful when the engines came to life with a roar and the airplane began to vibrate. He knew in a moment the airplane would taxi out to the runway.

As much as he didn’t mind flying, those few minutes when he was stuck practically vertical and slammed back in his seat as the airplane flew up into the air, scared the crap out of him. He held his breath the entire time, not beginning to breathe again until they leveled out.

As he drew life giving oxygen back into his lungs, Eddie noticed the death grip his fellow passenger had on the armrest. He reached over and settled his hand on the man’s arm. “Hey, it’s okay, we’re leveling out. We’ll be fine.”

When the man turned and looked at him, Eddie almost expected to receive another angry glare. He even started to lift his hand, cringing back in his seat so he made a smaller target.

Eddie was all about being a smaller target.

“Man was not meant to fly.”

Eddie blinked in bewilderment at the man’s words. His lips twisted at the corners before the laughter he was trying to hold in escaped in a giggle. He slapped his hand over his mouth when robin blue eyes narrowed at him.

“Sorry,” he whispered through his hand. “I didn’t mean to laugh. Honest. You just surprised me, is all.”

“Uh uh.” The man did not look convinced.

“What happened to your nose?” Eddie asked as he gestured to the white tape the man had over the bridge of his nose. “Did you trip? I trip all the time. My boy—” Eddie flushed equal parts embarrassment and shame—“My ex-boyfriend says I could get tangled up in air.”

The guy reached up and gingerly touched the bridge of his nose. The grunt of pain seemed to surprise the man as if he was shocked that it hurt when he touched it.

Very odd.

“I broke it,” he finally replied.

“Did you trip?” Eddie asked.

One very fine cinnamon brown eyebrow arched. “Yes, something like that.”

“Duke—he’s my ex—he says I need to pay more attention to where I’m going, although…” Eddie frowned as he slowly turned to look toward the front of the plane, “I guess he won’t be saying a whole about that anymore.”

Eddie still hadn’t decided how he felt about that. He was terrified of being under Duke’s thumb again, and terrified not to be. Duke had been his first kiss. His first boyfriend. His first lover.

His first everything.

Unfortunately, Duke had also been behind Eddie’s first beating, which was why he was on an airplane flying home by himself instead of in Paris on his honeymoon. Duke was probably still in Paris enjoying the honeymoon they were supposed to spend together with whatever new boy toy he had found to spend the night with. Eddie knew it sure as hell wasn’t going to be him. He might have put up with a lot of shit from Duke but he refused to be anyone’s punching bag.

“Why is he an ex?”

Eddie turned, a little astonished that the man sitting next to him was even speaking to him. He didn’t seem like the friendliest of types. “I thought we had flown to Paris to get married.” Eddie inhaled slowly, his breath shaky. “As I found out the hard way, Duke had no plans to marry me.”

“Then why take you to Paris?”

“I’m still trying to piece it all together but I’m pretty sure he was using me to smuggle something into the country.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I lost one of my travel bags. When Duke found out, he went ballistic. When the men he was meeting with found out that Duke didn’t have what they wanted, they…” Eddie pressed his lips together, unable to say what they did. He just couldn’t put it into words. “I decided to leave after that.”

“Did they hurt you?” There was enough of a growl in the man’s voice that it took Eddie by surprise and he found himself nodding, admitting to a stranger what he could barely admit to himself. “Want me to kill them?”


Eddie inhaled sharply, his body going hot and achy in the time it took to open his eyes. He clenched Virgil’s shirt in his hand as a wave of lust swept through him stronger than a tidal wave. His entire body was one big erogenous zone, Virgil’s touch like a live flame along his skin.

He moaned as he pressed his aching cock against the muscular leg pressed between his thighs. The friction was…”Virgil,” his whispered on a broken breath. “Please.”

A full body shudder rippled through him when he felt Virgil’s hand slid down the back of his jeans, one finger pressing between his ass cheeks. Virgil’s gentle touch caressed his balls before moving to the round puckered hole that pulsed with need. Eddie tried to lift himself, separating his legs as he offered himself up to Virgil’s questioning fingers.

Eddie didn’t understand the all-consuming need sweeping through him. He had never needed to feel Duke touch him like he needed Virgil to touch him. He was pretty sure he would die if Virgil stopped. His cock was so hard it was on the verge of shattering. One good thrust of his hips and he’d blow.

Eddie’s eyelids dropped when the tip of Virgil’s finger breached his ass. His pushed his ass back, trying to get more, to get it deeper. His mind started to fog, the only thing clear was the need to come.

“Do you like that, baby?” The words were growled into Eddie’s ear, reminding him that he wasn’t alone in his pleasure.

Shame filled Eddie as he realized he had been so caught up in what he was doing, he had forgotten that Virgil was a living breathing person and not an all consuming force of nature bent on destroying his calm, peaceful world.

“Virg—ahhh!” Eddie keened when Virgil’s finger went deep, shoving past his tight ring of muscles and into his ass, rubbing that sweet, sweet spot deep inside that made his eyes cross.

“Lean up, Eddie.”

Eddie blinked slowly, his eyelashes sweeping over his flushed cheeks as he sat up. He stared down at Virgil in wonder, just barely able to make out the man’s strong features in the low light from the front of the first class seating area.

When he felt something brush his bellybutton, Eddie glanced down. He saw Virgil unbuttoning his pants and then pushing them down. He just couldn’t seem to process why it was needed. He couldn’t process why it wasn’t needed either so he didn’t fight it, not even when Virgil slid his shoes off and pushed his jeans down until they hit the floor.

 When he was pulled back down, Virgil settled him over his lap. Eddie’s legs fell on either side of Virgil’s hips. It wasn’t until he sat fully down that he realized Virgil had unzipped his own pants and Eddie could feel the man’s more than impressive cock pushing up against his naked skin.

“Virgil,” he groaned, shuddering when two fingers forced their way into his tight ass. The sensation rode the edge of pain, which made it all that much more intense. Virgil’s fingers moved fast, plunging in and out of his ass hard, fast, and oh so wonderful. Two fingers became three, and then four, and he felt so full.

And then something else pushed at his entrance, stretching it even more. Eddie’s breath stuttered, painfully, magnificently. His eyes locked with Virgil as the man pushed up inside his ass, one glorious thick inch at a time. By the time he felt Virgil’s balls nudge up against his ass, Eddie felt like his ass had been split in two.
Virgil was simply huge, long and thick and hard. And, oh god, Eddie could feel every delicious inch filling him to the brim. He had never been stretched so far. Ever thrust of Virgil’s hips sent the man’s cock deep. Every retreat scraped across his sweet spot.

Eddie’s senses rolled, each exquisite touch if Virgil’s hands on his body driving him further and further into ecstasy. His mind reeled, his body overloading. He was so close he could feel his orgasm biting at him, nipping at his flesh. His pulse pounded, thumping out a tempo that matched Virgil’s thrusts.

Virgil grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing his head to one side. Pain erupted in Eddie’s throat, the agony crashing into pleasure so intense, Eddie forgot to breathe. Cum shot out of his cock and splattering over his abdomen as his body exploded into a million glowing stars.

Something swelled in his ass as Virgil growled around the bite of flesh he had in his mouth. Warmth filled his ass as Virgil found his release. Eddie floated in a cloud of pleasure unlike anything he had ever felt before. His body was pure liquid ecstasy. When Virgil’s thumb pushed into his mouth, Eddie sucked the moisture off, not caring in the least about the odd coppery taste when he heard Virgil’s deep groan.

When Virgil stopped biting him and licked at his skin, the sensation flittered along Eddie’s skin like a lover’s caress. A soft purring type of noise floated up to his ears. It was a strangely soothing sound, making Eddie melt into Virgil. When the man started rubbing against him, Eddie tilted his head, wanting the caress more than he wanted air.

“So good, baby,” Virgil whispered against his skin.

Eddie preened, wanting to bask in Virgil’s words but he was too tired. He just wanted to sleep. He snuggled his head into the crook of Virgil’s neck, drawing in the man’s heady scent even as he closed his eyes.
As he faded off to sleep, he heard two words murmured in his ear. They held no real meaning to him and yet he knew they were significant in some manner. Before he could question Virgil about them, he faded off to sleep, the words echoing in his mind.

“My mate.”


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Monday, July 13, 2015

Caleb's Avenger by Sydney Lain


Laird watched his family die. The tragic event turned him into a man obsessed with revenge. Determined to reach beneath the surface, Caleb tries to learn Laird’s secrets, but he ends up in mess after mess after Laird leaves him in the middle of different disasters. Will Caleb see through Laird’s lies in time to save his life?

Story Excerpt:

He took a deep breath and forced stiff muscles to loosen. He needed to keep a low profile. That reminder helped him focus. Ready to face the stranger head-on, Laird looked up and froze.

None of his thoughts connected to his brain. It was like the bridge was blocked by a handsome face that made all those around him look like sad, wilting weeds. Those strong, chiseled features belonged more on a statue. This stranger was a prime specimen of warrior. Laird’s heart beat faster as his throat became dry. Nerve endings sizzled to life, stirring his cock awake. He swallowed. No one had ever elicited such a response from him.

“How about we go somewhere and talk about your hobby?” Mixed within the words was a promise for something more than a conversation.

Standing on the street and being shocked by the turn of events almost had Laird nodding, then following behind the warrior like some pet shop whore. The confusion wore off and he remembered the reason he was waiting.

“No. I don’t go anywhere with strangers.” This time he forced a glare. Laird just needed to keep reminding both of them that they were nothing more than strangers.

The stranger nodded in approval, which only annoyed him more. Like he needed this man’s approval for anything, but that’s not what bothered him. Laird had liked receiving it. How long had it been since someone complimented him?

“I’m Lieutenant Caleb Crestforth, the Defiant’s first officer.” He held out a hand. “And you are?”

The hand edged closer. He cringed back, acting like the approaching arm was a flaming torch that wanted to set his body on fire.

“Someone not interested in exchanging names with you.” His response met another of Caleb’s nods of approval.

“Good. Not a pushover.” Caleb gave him a half smile.

Now he was even more annoyed, not something he thought possible. “Look here. Others might appreciate your approval, but not me.”

Muscles flexed before Caleb folded both arms over his chest. Laird took a step back and waited for the fist, ready to drop to the ground to avoid it before running away.

“You think I’m going to hit you?”

He rolled his eyes. “I put nothing past you, stranger.” He let the word stranger roll slowly off his tongue. Laird might know this man’s name, but that wasn’t enough to make him anything more than a stranger.
Just before Caleb could reply, heavy footsteps stopped him.

“We found you.”

Laird froze. He recognized the cruelty without having to see the man’s face. He’d been so preoccupied with Caleb that he forgot to watch for the real bad guys. Three men approached from behind, and with Caleb blocking his front, Laird felt trapped.

This was all Caleb’s fault. He shook the blame away. Thinking like that wouldn’t help him. Besides, this stranger was a warrior and most likely Warsarian. Unlike Laird, if it came down to a fight, Caleb could take care of himself. Warsarians had a reputation of cold ruthlessness. They were the deadliest warriors in the universe. That gave him a wicked idea, but his survival always came first. He had two important reasons to get out of this mess alive and, hopefully, unharmed.

“Boss, they found us,” Laird said as he turned to face Caleb. He batted his eyelashes at the Warsarian. The shocked expression on the warrior’s face made him a little more devilish. He gave the warrior a mischievous wink before turning to the men that worked for Taurus.

“Go away before my boss”—not sure if the men were as stupid as all of Taurus’s lackeys, he pointed his thumb at the man behind him—“Caleb Crestforth gets angry. You don’t want to see him angry,” he warned, knowing full well that these men would be drawn in by his words and not chased away by the threat of death. Some people had no survival skills. Caleb was a fierce warrior. His mere physical appearance would’ve sent smart men running away.

The men stared at his “boss.” Their eyes narrowed as they ignored him and surrounded Caleb. Laird took a step back and placed Caleb between him and his would-be attackers. Men this stupid couldn’t see the dangerous warrior ready to rip heads off. Laird slowly backed away. He never wanted to face Caleb’s anger, and right now, he was the only one that Caleb should be angry with. Rather than wait for the warrior to figure that out, Laird continued backing up.

“What are you planning?” Caleb asked.

He gave Caleb a sad smile, but the warrior only had eyes for the threat looming closer. Laird liked the handsome, overfriendly stranger, but Caleb needed to learn not to talk to strangers. The world was full of men that would screw a man over like he’d just done.

“I’ll head back to our ship.” Then he added a larger nail to Caleb’s coffin. “The Defiant has everything onboard. Take your time and play.”

Caleb turned briefly to glare at him, but Laird wasn’t sure what made the warrior angrier. It could’ve been the way Laird tossed him to Taurus’s goons without explaining the situation, or perhaps it was giving away the name of Caleb’s ship.

Since the Warsarians had arrived with the Elvarian king, warships floated in space, orbiting above the atmosphere, and docked on the planet. Taurus’s men would look for the Defiant, but they had to search through a lot of areas to find it. If their attackers managed to escape, they’d go after Caleb’s ship. No matter the outcome, these men would spend more time trying to get the better of each other while Laird focused on fixing his ship and destroying Taurus.

Laird slowly backed up. He met Caleb’s glare and smiled. He mouthed the words thank you. The warrior rolled his eyes and nodded. Caleb wasn’t angry. He seemed to want him far away from the fighting. Now, he wanted to stay. Under normal circumstances, he might have done just that, but his two reasons for getting away were more important than anyone or anything else. As Laird turned the corner, Caleb, strong and magnificent, readied for battle. Taurus’s men didn’t stand a chance.

Adult Excerpt: 

“What are you feeling?” Caleb asked.

When he looked up, the warrior’s eyes had turned from warm honey to the color of blood. “I’m not feeling anything,” Laird said. The lie tasted like lemon juice on his tongue.

Caleb arched an eyebrow. “So if I were to lean in, what would you do?”

Caleb moved closer. Laird found it hard to breathe. He turned his head and Caleb pressed his nose against Laird’s neck.

“Do you like this?”

Caleb’s warm breath tickled his skin. Then lips pressed into the crook of his neck.

“You have a lifemate,” Laird said, trying to remind his brain why this couldn’t go any further. “You’re not free to pursue more.” While Laird wanted to spend his nights getting to know the warrior, his heart would get too attached. The attraction sizzled between them. He needed to sever the bond before it ripped out his heart.

“Yes, I do have a lifemate.” Large hands pushed back his hair. “The color is beautiful, almost white, and so soft.”

The gentleness in Caleb’s tone seemed so alien coming from such a strong man. His heart thumped painfully inside of his chest.

“The moment I saw you on the street, I needed to know more. When I got closer, I knew that you were mine.”

Laird froze. It couldn’t be true? He shook his head, refusing to let the dream grow into something real.

“Ask?” Caleb’s voice lost a little of the gentleness. The commanding tone forced Laird to look into the warrior’s blood-red eyes.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No. If I’m wrong, I don’t want to know.”

“What if you’re right?”

Laird shook his head. “Can’t take that chance.”

“Yes, you can. Now, ask.”

He was helpless against Caleb’s intensity. “Who is your lifemate?”

Caleb’s hands pressed into the sides of his face, holding it still. “You are, Laird. I protect what’s mine. No one will ever hurt you.”

Caleb leaned closer. Their lips touched and Laird forgot how to breathe. The warmth penetrated him and he felt it down to his toes. Just when Laird thought he would never find his way back, the lips were gone. He groaned out a weak protest, but before he could voice his objection, Caleb was pushing him back toward the bed. Laird went like an eager student ready to learn everything he could about the warrior that walked into his life and gave him hope.

Hands pulled off his loose tunic.

“I want your clothes off.”

Laird nodded in agreement. Skin-to-skin was what they both needed.

“I want you so bad my cock aches for relief,” Caleb admitted.

“Then there’s no problem. I want you deep inside, opening my ass up, and filling me.” Laird was being brazen, considering he wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. Oh, his body wanted to be claimed, but he still had unfinished business on Elvarian. Until Taurus paid, he couldn’t be selfish. But it was only one night. Before he second guessed his decision, Laird’s back landed on the bed. Then Caleb was on top of him.

The warrior’s weight was a comfort that left Laird longing for more. He wrapped his arms around Caleb’s neck and pulled the warrior closer. Warmth nibbled along his ear and Laird was panting. His arms landed at his side on the mattress. Fingers moved down his chest, rubbing at his nipples. He threw back his head and tried to suck in air. Breathing had become nearly impossible.

“That’s it. Show me how much you like to be touched.” Caleb’s voice had Laird arching off the bed. “For days, you’ve wanted this. Every morning, I smelled your desire.” Caleb pressed his lips to Laird’s neck before moving up to his ear and whispering, “I’m going to ride your ass and drown on your moans.”

He let out a low groan and a whispered, “Please.” He needed Caleb like he needed air. He rubbed his fingers over hard muscles and purred in delight. This man was all power, and he belonged to Laird.
As if sensing his thoughts, Caleb’s teeth bit lightly down on his chest. It hurt a little and brought Laird back down.

“If we do this, you will be mine. Not for one night, but forever.”

A part of him hoped that was true, but the cynical part knew forever didn’t exist. People died, betrayed, and left him. Still, no one had ever made him feel this wanted. Not trusting his voice, he nodded, but that wasn’t good enough. Caleb’s red eyes demanded a verbal response.

“Yes, please.” He felt his skin darken. When Caleb chuckled, Laird relaxed. Fingers ripped at his pants, and he heard the fabric tearing at the seams.

“Now, I’m going to have to walk the corridors flashing my naked ass.”

Caleb growled and he shivered in response. That sound would have frightened him coming from anyone else, but this was Caleb above him. His cock jerked at the possessive tone, as it demanded to be owned. Little bumps danced across his skin as his body readied for more.

“‘Lifemate’ means you’re mine. I’m the only one that will see your naked ass.” Caleb’s hands slid beneath him. Fingers grabbed his ass and squeezed before pulling him onto the warrior’s lap. Those fingers continued to knead his rear, turning him on even more. Caleb pulled both cheeks apart. Cool air danced across his opening. Then a finger rubbed against the sensitive entrance.

“I’m going to be in here soon, claiming you.”

That’s what Laird was hoping for. He nibbled on his bottom lip as Caleb pulled him closer. He lay against his mate’s chest while still straddling Caleb’s muscular thighs. One of them was overdressed, and it wasn’t him.


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Sunday, July 12, 2015

Sneak Peek Sunday- WIP Untitled Shapeshifter Romance

Excerpt from the first book in my M/M erotic alternate universe shapeshifter romance....

Jaime shivered as the rain came down in torrents.  His body and hair soaked made him cold to the bone.  He pulled his drenched jacket closer to his body, cinching it across his chest instead of zipping it close hoping to conserve as much of his body's heat as possible.  He would have zipped it, but since the clasp to the zipper was broken, holding it close with his hand was about as good as he could do.  He glanced at his car one last time.  The small four door, looked like it belonged more in a junk yard than on an open road.  Rust ate holes through the front and back panels, while bald tires made the car sit squat on the gravel road.  A little over fifteen years old, the metallic blue sedan looked like it was on it's last leg.

“Just keep it together a little while longer,” he said stroking the hood. “And we'll be home free. I promise, I'll let you live out your remaining years in a coach-lot where you can hang out with the rest of cars, driving people around for a couple hours at a time.  You'll make new friends and will get cleaned up too.”

He stared at the rusting heap.  If he didn't know better, he would have thought it was shaking it's head in disbelief.  Of course, he didn't even believe that lie himself.  A hand-me-down from his parents, it had seen better days and was almost past salvaging.  He just needed for it to work a little while longer, just until he could get to the next province.  Then he'd give it to whomever would pay him the most for it.  It's not that he didn't care about the old car, he just desperately needed the money.

Large trees swayed in the wind as they canopied the winding drive that led away from the street.  Grabbing a small bag from the back seat, he locked the car door hoping to find help in the castle at the far end of the drive.  As he trudged through the mud, puddles in the road dirtied the hems of his pants further adding to his misery.  Jaime looked up at glanced at the castle in distance.  Resting on a hill overlooking most of the valley, it imposed its importance on the area.

He paused and scratched his head.  “I wonder if the Lord of the Manor is open to stranger's in his lands.”

Ever since the dividing up the territories between human and were's, each were weary of visitors in their lands.  They had been known to stir up trouble between the various provinces either to provoke a land war based by illegal squatting then by making false claims of ownership.  It's not that the various Lord Proprietor's didn't encourage emigration to their domains, the problem was some had grand notions of merging provinces that wanted to remain separate as in no were in his or her right mind wanted to be joined to a human province also known as a Free Land.  Called that by the early territorial governors now called Lord Proprietors just like the weres, their areas were deemed free because they were humans governing humans free from the were monsters who ran most of the regions around the world.

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Better Than Good by Stormy Glenn


Harvey James was as bad-ass as they came. A former enforcer for biker gang, he now owns the Rusty Nail Bar and Grill. He has firm rules about the kinds of people he allows into his bar. So, when several of members of his former gang show up, he’s wary. His apprehension turns to outrage when he’s offered a beaten down man in exchange for free drinks on the house. Knowing he needs to rescue the young man, he accepts the deal, starting a series of events that tests his strength and strips him of his fine-honed control. Because Joey Baker isn’t just a man to be bartered, he’s a man Harvey wants to keep.

The last year of Joey’s life has been pure hell. Kidnapped and held captive by a man that derives pleasure out of torturing others, he finds himself being traded for a round of drinks. Rendered unable to speak due to the abuse he has suffered, Joey has no way to protest or ask for help, so when it comes, Joey doesn’t trust the help that is offered, or the man that offers it.

When Harvey and Joey are faced with an impossible situation, finding common ground may prove to be harder than they thought. The lack of communication combined with the growing desire between them adds tension to an already dangerous situation. When the man that took Joey comes back for him, learning to trust each other may be the only way to save them both.


“On your knees, you stupid bitch!”

Harvey James’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the crowd for the person belonging to that voice. He knew that voice and it meant nothing but trouble. He had spent a lot of time and money making sure the Rusty Nail Bar and Grill was a place for people to relax, not get drunk. He refused to allow riff raff into the place.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh made Harvey’s teeth grind together, a fine line of rage riding along the edge of his nerves. He allowed people to be abused in his tavern even less than he allowed the idiots that got too drunk to be respectful of others.

Harvey wove his way through the dancers on the floor in the middle of the bar, his instincts drawing him to the far corner of the main floor. Someone had dimmed the lights in that corner or broken them. The shadows surrounding the area weren’t supposed to be that dark.

Reaching the edge of the dance floor, he wanted to growl…or punch something. If he had known that the Dirty Dozen had somehow made their way inside his tavern, he would have taken a match to the place and burned it to the ground—preferably with them in it.

There weren’t many people in the world that Harvey hated, but there was a reason that he had left the Dirty Dozen Motorcycle Club. Besides the fact that he didn’t like the power plays going on between those coming up in the ranks, he despised the man that was at the top of the pile looking to be top dog.

Razor Malone was an idiot, plain and simple. The man had not a single brain cell in his head and a shit ton of muscles to back it up. He used his strength to get what he wanted, which was pretty much anything anyone else had, and he didn’t care who he had to hurt to get it. Why he had been allowed into the motorcycle club would forever be a mystery. The man needed to be put behind bars, or in a psych ward. He was nuts.

And who in the hell named themselves Razor, anyway? Life was not a B-rated biker flick.

Harvey stopped a few feet from the tables in the corner. His eyes flickered to the man kneeling on the floor for a brief second before going back to the asshole holding him there by a handful of hair.

It was easy to see that the guy on the floor was in pain, and no doubt terrified. His big hazel eyes dominated his pale face as they silently screamed in anguish. Not a sound passed his lips, almost as if he knew it would do him no good.

“Well, well, well,” the man in the chair mused. “If it isn’t Harvey James.”

Harvey crossed his arms. “Razor.”

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“I do own the place, Razor.” And the calculating look in Razor’s eyes said that he knew that.

“You don’t say.” A sly grin crossed the man’s lips.

Harvey tilted his head. “What do you want, Razor?”

“Well, seeing how we’re old buddies and such, how about free drinks on the house?”

“No.” And more than that, hell no!

“One round of drinks, then, for old time’s sake.”


When Razor went to stand, the fingers he had tangled in hair pulled, making the man on the floor whimper in obvious pain. The sound seemed to remind Razor that the man was there, as if he could forget he was abusing someone.

“I’ll tell you what, you give us a round of drinks on the house and I’ll let my bitch suck your dick.” Razor yanked hard and the small dark haired man fell against him before scrambling back into his kneeling position. His entire body shook as if he thought he had just committed on offense that would get him punished.

He probably had. Razor always liked keeping his pets in fear of him by way of his fists. The bruising Harvey saw on the small man’s arms and neck attested to the fact that he had been punished more than once.
If Harvey’s teeth ground together any harder, they’d shatter.

“No.” Harvey refused to add to the man’s punishment.

Razor licked his lips, giving Harvey the impression that the man was jonesing for some alcohol, which was odd considering he was sitting in a bar. Harvey started to get a nagging suspicion that Razor and his buddies were broke.

Yippee. Harvey could kick them all out.

“One round of drinks and I’ll let you have his ass.”

“I won’t take your leavings, Razor,” Harvey said in the calmest voice possible considering he was about to reach out and wrap his fingers around the moron’s throat. “I didn’t when I was part of the Dirty Dozen and I sure as hell won’t now.”

“I ain’t fucked him.”

Ignoring the overwhelming urge to beat Razor’s face in, Harvey’s eyes dropped to the man on the floor. How was that even possible? Razor fucked anything with a pulse, and Harvey suspected a few things without a pulse.

How could he have this man as his pet and not fuck him? Granted, the guy was young but Harvey doubted that had stopped Razor before. Again, not something he could prove, just a feeling he had. But at least the kid looked legal, barely.

But beneath his bruises, he was also gorgeous. He had big hazel doe-like eyes that reminded Harvey of someone that was young and innocent and terrified to be pushed out into the big wide world. He looked like he didn’t understand why he was being knocked around by Razor, almost as if he couldn’t conceive of that type of brutality.

“How long has he been yours?”

Razor shrugged and glanced away but not before Harvey saw the calculating glint come back into the man’s eyes. “A couple of months.”

“And you haven’t fucked him?”

“Naw, man, you know I only fuck pussy.” Razor was lying through his teeth…both of them. Harvey had seen Razor fuck men before, but he only did it when he thought no one else was paying attention.

Being gay in a motorcycle club was kind of like signing your own death warrant. The only reason Harvey had survived was because he didn’t advertise that he liked men and he had the muscle to beat the shit out of anyone that hassled him.

“One round of drinks for one hour with your boy.” Harvey couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. His only excuse was the need to get the kid somewhere and make sure he wasn’t being held captive by Razor. He wouldn’t put it past the asshole.



Harvey groaned as a silky hot suction surrounded his dick. He flexed his hips, driving his cock further into the warm heat. God, when was the last time he had felt something so damn good? His fingers curled into the sheets as he thrust his hips forward until the head of his dick brushed against the back of someone’s throat. The suction grew stronger, a tongue swiping along his rigid length.

“Close, so close.” Harvey was riding the edge of an orgasm. He just needed a little more to toss him over into the abyss. Harvey reached down and curled his fingers into the hair of the man sucking him off, not in the least bit surprised that the man looked like Joey in his fantasy.

Joey had been starring in every one of his sexual fantasies for the last week. Like an untried school boy, Harvey had woken more than once with the results of his dreams splattered all over his chest. It seemed this time would be no different, especially since Harvey had long stopped trying to fight the dreams and just gave in to them.

When the suction on his dick moved down his entire length, Harvey stiffened, knowing where this was going to go. He held his breath, waiting, aching. When the fingers caressing his balls moved further back, one lone finger breaching his ass, Harvey cried out and filled that sweet mouth with spurt after spurt of his release.

When fantasy slowly became reality, Harvey drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes. He really needed to stop fantasizing about Joey and maybe find someone to get laid. He was supposed to be protecting the guy, not turning him into a sex object.

He just couldn’t seem to help it.

The doctors had wanted to keep Joey for observation when they went to the hospital. Joey would have none of it. He struggled and whimpered, big fat tears sliding down his face until Harvey intervened and said Joey could stay with him. Now, a week later he had the sweetest, sexiest man on the planet sleeping on his couch.
Well, most of the time. When Joey’s nightmares started—which they usually did every night—Joey ended up in bed with Harvey, sprawled across his chest. It seemed to be Joey’s new favorite place, and Harvey didn’t mind all that much. He liked holding the little slip of a man in his arms.

It was just too bad he couldn’t keep Joey.

He blew out a deep breath as he opened his eyes and—“What the fuck?”

Harvey’s heart pounded away at a ferocious pace as he scrambled back across the mattress from the man kneeling between his thighs—the very naked man. Sweet hell, he was really, really naked.

“Joey, what in the hell are you doing?”

Big hazel doe-like eyes blinked up at Harvey from the end of the bed. Sweet mother of mercy, was that a drop of cum on Joey’s chin?

Harvey groaned, partly due the fact that he realized his fantasy hadn’t been a fantasy at all, and partly because he really liked seeing his cum on Joey’s face. There was something primal about marking the man. The urge to cum all over Joey was so strong, Harvey had to curl his fingers into the blankets to keep from reaching for the man.

“Baby.” Harvey rubbed his hand up over his bald head. “You can’t—” Surprise sent Harvey’s eyebrows up to the top of his head when Joey reached up and held his finger to his lips in the universal sign for silence.
Joey was pure seduction as he crawled up the mattress from the end of the bed and pulled the sheet away. He might have just come but by the time Joey straddled his thighs, Harvey was hard as a rock.

The feel of Joey’s soft skin brushing against his dick was almost more than Harvey could handle. He sucked in a hard breath as his hands slid over Joey’s thighs, holding the man still. If Joey moved an inch, it would be all over—for both of them.

“Joey, baby,” Harvey groaned. “You don’t know what—”

Harvey couldn’t do anything but shudder when he felt Joey’s lips press against his. He ached for the man and had almost from the first moment he set eyes on him. He had been fighting his desires for days. It was becoming a constant struggle, one he was pretty sure he was losing.

“Joey, you don’t know what you’re doing.” There was no way he could know, not unless his intention was to get thrown down on the mattress and ravished until he couldn’t sit or walk. And Harvey was a hair’s breath away from doing just that.

“Baby—oh god!” Harvey’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head when Joey leaned forward and licked a line up his collarbone. The feel of Joey’s tongue on his skin made Harvey’s entire body shudder and pulse.

“Please, please tell me you know what you are doing.” Harvey was so not above begging right now. Even though he knew this was a really, really bad idea, he didn’t think he could stop from taking what Joey seemed to be offering, not when he wanted it so damn bad.

When Joey’s hands smoothed up his chest, Harvey grabbed the man and rolled him beneath his larger body, wedging his leg between Joey’s thighs. He searched Joey’s eyes for any sign of fear or reservation. If there had been a single glimmer, Harvey wouldn’t have asked his next question.

“Are you sure, Joey?”


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