Fires of Crete – an excerpt

Fires of Crete

(#eroticromance #gayromance #MM #contemporary)

firesofcrete_cover_smUnexpected, instantaneous, and combustible attraction. Two strangers meet online sharing a passion for Minoan history. An invitation to holiday on Crete. Andrew Larson, a studious university professor, and Stephanos Angelika, an attractive up-and-coming young Greek executive, finally meet, and an undeniable need blazes to life. They have two weeks to explore this heady level of their relationship. Is it lust or something deeper?

Andrew, adopted as a child, has only a medallion that ties him to his Greek heritage. And a faded photograph of a young woman, the name of a village scrawled across the back. He sets upon a journey of discovery, but finds even more than he bargained for when he sees Stephanos awaiting him at the airport on Crete.

Stephanos leads a cautious, solitary life as a young gay man leery of living his lifestyle openly, already estranged from a family that has disowned him. It’s a huge leap when he invites Andrew to visit. Upon seeing Andrew, Stephanos knows everything will change.
The friendship that began online erupts into something far stronger and lasting. Will the weight of past wounds destroy the deepening bond they have come to share? Or will it be love that triumphs?

EXCERPT

Stephanos left the apartment at dawn, before Andrew was up, in order to walk the silent streets and clear his head. He had to come to a decision; the sexual tensions that existed between him and Andrew had reached breaking point. He came to the steps of a Greek Orthodox Church. He often wound up here either late at night or early in the morning, when he was particularly conflicted. Something drew him to climb the steps and walk into this sacred space. Perhaps he would find that elusive answer he searched for in regard to his relationship with Andrew.

He studied the Byzantine-inspired architecture, focused on the cross affixed above the archway, and then walked inside. He inhaled the incense-scented air, the aroma of polished wood, studied the rectangular stained-glass windows for a moment, then sat down in the last pew and allowed the peaceful spirituality of the atmosphere to envelop him. His father had lived by the creed of this church. Had Stephanos wandered so very far away? He closed his eyes and bowed his head, instinctively reciting the prayers he had memorized as a child. They were a comforting ritual, and slowly the tension eased. All the memories of his youth came flooding back. Bittersweet now. He opened his eyes and stared up at the cross mounted above the altar, waiting for an answer.

He jumped when a hand settled on his shoulder. He glanced up, was shocked when he saw Andrew staring down at him.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered as he slid deeper into the pew.

“I heard you leave, and I decided to follow. Call it a hunch,” Andrew said quietly.

Stephanos stared at the cross. “I don’t know what to do,” he finally admitted out loud. “I think I am a coward.”

Andrew reached for his hand, and Stephanos gripped it tightly. More tightly than he probably should have.

“What do you want to do?” Andrew asked.

Andrew’s steadying touch felt right to Stephanos. His presence was steadfast and necessary to Stephanos’s happiness and well-being.

“I don’t want to push you away. But I want more than friendship. I don’t want to lose the camaraderie we have established and exchange it for something less…substantial and fleeting, Andrew. Our relationship is too important to me.”

Andrew squeezed Stephanos’s hand. “Realistically anything beyond friendship can’t last. I have to return to the States in less than two weeks. But I’ll admit that I want more even though I know it can’t last.”

“I don’t know what to do. It seems I’ve waited all my life for now—for meeting you. And now I’m paralyzed. What if it’s not right? We can’t go back.”

“Everything is a risk. You could have stayed in the mountains, with your family, and never known something of the world. Do you regret what you did?”

“There are some days that I do, yes.”

“Because you’re alone now? But you know who you are, don’t you? Better than you did before? Do you really want to go back to that naïveté?”

It didn’t take Stephanos long to consider his answer. “No. Even with being disowned, I couldn’t change it if I wanted to. It’s inside me, and I can’t alter who I am, although some would think that would be an easy thing to do.”

“Risks are part of life. They’re scary, but they make us feel alive. Don’t you think?”

“Alive,” Stephanos repeated. “Yes, but I want more. I want to be free.”

“Come home, Stephanos. I want to be free too. I want to fly. With you.”

Stephanos looked at the angled fresco on the domed ceiling. Again, he thought of Icarus and how high he flew, how close to the sun he got. Was it worth it to feel the fire, to soar that close to a flame so bright? Wasn’t there always a price to be paid? Perhaps wounds borne? Stephanos twisted around to look at Andrew. He smiled and then stood up.

He got the answer he’d come for. Maybe not in quite the fashion he’d expected, but it was a response he embraced.

The sun was just beginning to ascend in the sky as they made their way back to Stephanos’s apartment, walking slowly. Stephanos still gripped Andrew’s hand, afraid to let go.

It was as they rounded the corner of Stephanos’s building that he pulled back and dragged Andrew into his arms. It was at the corner of his street where he kissed Andrew, thrusting his tongue deep into Andrew’s mouth. It was in the elevator that Andrew cupped Stephanos’s face with both hands and claimed a kiss, tongues clashing, lips fused, until the bell dinged and the elevator doors silently slid open when it arrived at Stephanos’s floor.

But it was inside the apartment when the fire roared out of control. Hardly had the door slammed shut when the inferno consumed them with the hunger of suppressed lust now freed as a wildfire racing across a drought-ridden field too encompassing to even think of quenching before it consumed everything in its path. And more than anything, Stephanos wanted to be engulfed by the fires of Andrew’s passion. Anogia and Andrew’s search for his past would have to wait another day.

In their own world now, sequestered from prying eyes, passion knew no bounds. Hands and tongues and bodies fused and mated. There was unleashed urgency to their movements, to their ravening hunger. And there would be no stopping the firestorm that erupted with full force.

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Now available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KCNDGFW

Currently a #kindleunlimited selection

The Drifter – an excerpt

The Drifter

#old west #historical #erotic romance #MF

the drifter_smThe post-Civil War west brings Slade McCord, a haunted, scarred man, brutally betrayed by love and almost destroyed by life, to the wild Arizona Territory on a mission. Lillian Manchester, the sheltered daughter of a rancher, yearns for adventure and dreams of the love and companionship of a strong man–the only one that can tame her restless, wildfire heart.Like a fresh breeze across the arid desert, Lillian’s indomitable spirit and zest for living breathe renewed life into the shell of the man, and Slade is seduced by his desire for the fiery, sensual beauty of a desert flower meant for him alone.

Can he break free of the chains that bind him to the past to accept what Lillian offers? Or should he ride away and forget he was ever offered a second chance to live…and love?

EXCERPT

She hated being here, hated her dress, the need to act like a lady, to hide her feelings and pretend she was happy when she was dying inside little by little.

Walking toward Neptune’s stall, she was determined to saddle her and leave, just ride out into the night, free of it all, needing to feel the wind carry her away.

“Here to meet one of your lovers, Miss Lillian?”

About to open Neptune’s stall, Lilly’s hand stilled and she stiffened, her breath caught in her chest. “Slade.” She turned toward his voice, the swishing of her skirt and petticoats the only sound in the dim, silent barn.

She saw a flicker of a match as he lit the end of a cigar, smelled its pungent, smoky odor. The moon was full and its glow filtered through the long windows. She could just make out Slade’s shadowy figure as he leaned against an empty stall several feet from Neptune’s.

“I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” Her heart pumped furiously in her chest. Had he followed her?

“Sorry if I’m ruining a private party, ma’am.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Lilly was puzzled by his apparent need to try to hurt her. How could he think Lilly would let another man touch her after what they shared? But she wouldn’t let him know his words wounded. She lowered her lashes, trying to hide her expression.

“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. Would you care?”

He shrugged. “What you do is your business. I have no say, but you wouldn’t want to get a reputation for being fast and loose.”

Lilly wanted to lash out at him, hurt him the way he tried to hurt her. “Maybe I’m just trying to build on what you taught me, gain a little more experience.” Her voice quavered slightly, but she forced herself to steady it. “Men like experience, don’t they?” She taunted him, knew she would be sorry, but couldn’t stop.

Her gaze followed the lit end of the cigar as it dropped to the floor, a booted foot stomped hard, extinguishing the end, and Slade strode toward her. He grabbed both her arms in a cruel grip, and yanked her close to him. His scent filled her, his anger was tangible.

“Is that what you’re looking for, Lilly? More experience?” He bit out the words between clenched teeth, words that smashed into her, seconds before his mouth crashed down branding her.

Eagerly she surrendered, opened her mouth, and welcomed him. His taste was smoky, male, tinged with a hint of whiskey. It intoxicated her. His hands moved suggestively over her breasts, dropping to her waist. His fingers bit into her hips, yanking her to him.

“If experience is what you want, I’m more than willing to oblige.” He pulled her toward the empty stall, out of sight of the main part of the barn, then pulled her into his arms again.

Lilly knew he thought he punished her, that she would run from him, but she reveled in his touch. It would never be enough. What he wanted–any way he wanted it–she willingly gave to him.

She’d never seen him angry before, but could taste the raging fire now. Had she managed to rouse the jealous beast with her unrestrained flirting? Surprisingly, the consequences of her actions didn’t frighten her. Instead, Lilly was elated she’d managed to breach his defenses. She’d goaded him, challenged him, and now she would reap the results of her words. Eagerly she submitted to his demands, anything to break through the wall that guarded his heart.

Roughly, Slade turned her to face the wall, pushing her forward, he yanked her skirts up, and her drawers down, ripping them in the process. She stood submissively, her hands flat against the wall, breathing fast in anticipation. Hard hands at her waist lifted her, and she felt his thick shaft at her entrance. Lilly inhaled sharply at his abrupt thrust as he impaled her, driving deep. There was no pain, she was slick with arousal, ready for him, and felt his forceful possession of her all the way to her soul. A pleasurable pain erupted through her entire body. She felt like a sparkler lit on the fourth of July, bursting with fire, as she met his savage, deep thrusts willingly.

“Jesus, woman, why do you do it?” he groaned against her neck, his thrusts halted with him fully buried inside her.

He nibbled at her sensitive neck, grazed his teeth along her exposed shoulder and she whimpered with desire.

“Damn you, Lilly, damn you for making me feel. Damn you for making me want you, need you the way I do.”

 

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Buy Link on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BQMG4T3

Also a #kindleunlimited selection

 

 

Azurene: Divine Seduction, an excerpt

Azurene: Divine Seduction

(#futuristic #eroticromance #MF)

Azurene_DivineSeduction_cover_smPassion awaits on the Northern Shores far from the arid heat of her desert home. Lessons in pleasure from a water-dweller awaken a desire that is doomed from the beginning, because Elita Watende, youngest daughter of the High Lord of the Desert Borders, has been promised to the Lord Guardian of the Northern Shores. The match is tied to an important treaty for Elita’s rebellious tribe, and it is a union she cannot refuse.

More danger than she can possibly imagine awaits her beyond the desert borders. When the fiery-haired Elita rides one last time in her beloved homeland she is captured by the minions of Kadin, the Dark Underlord, whose plan is to use her as a pawn in a battle for control of the planet.

Elita believes all is lost, but before the dark minions can mark her as the property of the underlord, a fierce blue warrior from the Northern Shores descends upon the horde, freeing Elita from their clutches. He serves Lord Raoul Duarte, Lord Guardian of the Northern Shores, and Elita’s future match.

Yet he is so much more. For he is also an instructor in the arts of Amak, a mysterious man whom Elita knows only as Teacher who will school her in the knowledge of love for her union with another man…

Excerpt:

She saw the darkling nod and her body shifted as someone behind her began to tear at her clothing. In moments every piece of material was ripped away, exposing her to the night and to these devil’s minions.

He removed a glove, letting it drop to the ground, and she shuddered when he reached out to stroke a clawed hand over her breast. The touch was hard and cold as death.

“I’m going to take my time with you, pretty. You will grovel at my feet before we leave this place. You will beg for mercy. Our lord will see how well his new possession can be tamed for his pleasure.” He touched her chest, just above the full swell of her breasts, a spot that would be front and center visible for all to see. “Right here,” he said as he pressed the palm of his cold hand flat against her skin. There would be no way to hide such a horrible mark that would be seared into her skin forever.

Elita had never been so frightened in her life. But it wasn’t death that she feared, so much as living. A quick death in battle she understood. But looking at this creature standing before her, the smile on his face a parody of pleasure, she knew she would have an eternity in hell to regret her impetuous actions.

She had played on her father’s love and guilt in arranging a match she did not want, to get him to allow her to ride one last time in the desert. His guilt and her desire for freedom had overridden caution. And she would forever suffer for that act.

“You might as well relax, pretty, because there’s nothing you can do. Your pitiful guards all dead, no one to alarm your weak father to your disappearance until long after we have reached the labyrinth. And once inside, no one would dare to enter. Count your moments of freedom, for they are fast dripping away.”

She knew very well about the labyrinth to the cavernous kingdom. There was only one way to navigate it and that was through the benevolence of its underlord. To meld body and soul with the darkness, accept him as master.

She was to be used as a pawn, as a taunt to her father like a yellow banner to a ferocious minnocat. Her father could die because of her thoughtlessness.

She felt the tears threaten, but she refused to let this creature see her fear. She swallowed them down, forced the rage to burn inside her. It was the only way she could fight the pain she knew she was about to experience when that brand iron touched her flesh, searing and burning its way toward her soul.

The creature lifted the hand holding the iron, and she closed her eyes, then flashed them open again as screams rent the air. All around her were flashes of blue light swirling and arcing. The creature dropped the iron and turned to engage in the battle.

A tall man dressed in silver battle garb ran toward her, the thick blue plume on his helmet and the azure silk material emblazoned with an emblem she couldn’t quite make out marked him as the leader. He raised the sapphire blade of his sword and brought it down across the chains that imprisoned her legs. Sparks flew, his actions a blur.

He curled a strong arm around her waist as he chopped at the chains imprisoning her hands, and he steadied her as she dropped into his arms.

He slashed at the underworld wraiths as they made their way through the battle. As his blade ran through them, Elita was shocked to see them dissolve into black dust at his feet.

She wanted to yell, “Give me a sword, I can fight,” except she was still gagged and he had her imprisoned so tightly in his strong, muscled arm she couldn’t reach up to remove it without causing him to lose concentration. And she knew, as most women in this kingdom did not, that loss of concentration for even a second, could mean death.

The battle was over quickly and then the warrior picked her up and strode into the darkness beyond the scene of battle. She saw a pale shadow in the distance. As they drew closer she recognized the lines of a gigantic white battle steed. The warrior pulled a blue velvet cloak from the saddle and wrapped her in it. Then he removed the gag.

She worked her jaw to ease some of the ache. Before she could say a word, he had mounted and she was secured before him.

“Who are you?”

He looked down at her, the molten glitter of his strange eyes pinning her like a bird caught in the sites of a hunter.

“I serve at my lord Duarte’s command.”

She gasped. “You’re from the Northern Shore? But I thought you weren’t due for another week.”

She saw the shadow of a hard smile split the hard lines of his face. “My lord has heard of your headstrong ways. It was his intention to offer you protection in case something like this happened. It appears he was correct in his assumption.”

“I didn’t plan this,” she said mutinously.

“Nevertheless, it happened.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To safety. To where the underlord would not dare trespass.”

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Buy Link on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07JJ1VTHT

Currently a #KindleUnlimited selection

Horsemasters: Riding Lessons – an excerpt

Bet you never had a riding lesson or horse trainer like this one. Get ready to warm up, baby.  Here’s a hot little story excerpt from Horsemasters: Riding Lessons.

Riding Lessons

(#MFM #erotica #bdsm #contemporary #submission #menage)

Gossips say Miguel d’Loganno is a sex master of the highest caliber. Melanie Anne Grayson is desperate for his services. To hire him to train her horse, Merciless, that is.

The horse trainer is attractive, commanding, and delicious. So is his strong, silent companion, Ricardo Santofoya. Their unorthodox training methods, both for horse and owner, havHorsemasters_RidingLessons_sme the horse set lining up to engage their talents.

Can Melanie submit to the Horsemaster in order to obtain his services for her steed? A lusty, blistering interview with these sexy horse trainers has her panting to learn more about their unique training methods.

 

EXCERPT

“Control,” Miguel bit out, his rock-hard, glittering gaze imprisoning hers. “It’s in your eyes, Ms. Grayson. I can always tell when rebellion is about to erupt.” He thrust his hips and she felt him all the way to her core. Her fingers curled in the dark pelt. Her head dropped back, eyelids fluttering close.

“Attention,” he bit out.

Immediately she lifted her head and looked into those merciless coal-dark eyes. It was a look that commanded her submission and acquiescence. Slowly she lifted, feeling every inch of his prick as it stroked along her sensitive, dripping channel. The muscles in her legs ached, but her pussy cried out for more, faster, deeper.

The rumor was that he enjoyed providing the private riding lessons to the owners as tandem to the horse training. It’s part of what made him unique among their set. And he was very, very good at it. It was well known that for as long as he accepted the training assignment at the farm, he expected the owner or owners, as the case may be, to bow to his every direction and command as well when it came to training their prizewinning steeds. He set the schedule.

Miguel was a truly fine specimen of a man, with a lean, solid frame, not an inch of surplus flesh. Hard and chiseled, hot and powerful. Feeling him between her slick thighs was like being mounted on a half-wild, pure-blood Andalusian stallion. Proud, agile, intelligent. Characteristics of animal and man, a perfect blend of dynamic, lusty temptation.

The vision emerged in her mind of him tossing her onto the floor, spreading her legs wide and spearing her deep. A Spanish conquistador claiming his prize. The image of primal rutting at its most basic level surged through her, twisting inside her, to the point where she was almost ready to beg. Oh, God, what was happening to her? Was it going to be that easy for her to topple beneath his spell?

One might almost consider him a shining star at the peak of the set of trainers available among the horse set, or maybe a skilled gigolo in some arenas. But from his reputation and the history of his protégées’ successes and the contentment and hero worship of the owners, he earned every penny of his exorbitant fees. And deserved every ounce of his reputation.

He also provided the unique service of locating a satisfactory substitute trainer when he left for the next assignment. No one was required to suffer withdrawal after his intense lessons—he always made sure their new appetites were well satisfied—and maintained. And he owned his students’ loyalty completely by the time he left their employ.

Oh, he was rugged, he was a man’s man, that was for sure. And she would do anything—absolutely anything—to have him train Merciless. She would be whatever he wanted her to be. And she would follow his instructions to the letter if that’s what it took to get him to sign the contract. Because she knew Merciless—this horse—was the one that would cut her from the herd of mediocre stables.

Her slick juices had her riding and gripping Miguel’s immense prick. The thick flesh brushed against her stiff clit, causing her to shudder with pleasure.

Now available on Amazon.

The Messenger – FREE Christmas Eve D/L

The Messenger is a #free download on Amazon for December 24th. One-day only.

#gayromance #eroticromance #contemporary.

…The Messenger took me by surprise. … Adrianna Dane did a great job with the suspense and intrigue of The Messenger as well as creating wonderful characters.

–JoyfullyReviewed.com

 

Dillon Lloyd has had the hots for his attractive neighbor, Vance Keith, for quite some time. He’s spent many nights in voyeuristic pleasure while the gorgeous man next door has sex with his current male lover in varied and delicious ways. Even so, Dillon has never entertained the idea of actually asking Vance out on a date. For one thing, Vance is a client of Dillon’s delivery business. And business and pleasure should never mix.
All that changes when a package–a gift that Vance had sent to his most recent lover–turns up undeliverable. Dillon takes a chance and decides to return the package to Vance himself in hopes that maybe a miracle of the season will happen for him.

When Vance and Dillon meet in person the sparks ignite. And when Vance invites Dillon into his apartment on this icy winter night, though the weather outside is frightful, the heat between them is more than delightful. Their blistering passion sets a torch to the holiday festivities offering a bounty of unexpected gifts.

But things in Vance’s past jealously battle for his future happiness and won’t stop at murder to win.

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H73J2R7

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I hope everyone has a safe, and a marvelous, holiday!

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Forget Me Not – an excerpt

Today, I’m posting an excerpt from my story, “Forget Me Not.” Hope  you enjoy.

Forget Me Not

(#eroticromance #gay #contemporary #MM, #fantasy, #second chance romance)

It was a friendship that forged their relationship. It was passion that bound them together. And tragedy that tore them apart. Yet time and distance could not destroy their yearning. A failed marriage could not quench the memories. Nothing could make either forget what they had once shared…

Boyhood friends, now mature men reunited after eighteen years apart. One had saved

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the other’s life. Cooper Lynch is a man locked by his mer blood to the town of Raven’s Cove. He cannot leave. Ever. Bound by cursed blood and by ancient duty. Ian Lynch is a man who feels rootless, now at the crossroads of his life, when fate brings him back again to Raven’s Cove and the only person he’d ever desired. It was a love they had tried to deny. A love that was never meant to be. But one that changed both their worlds with a night of passion they could never forget.

Different worlds, different lives. Will this forbidden love defy the demands of fate?

EXCERPT

Ian felt as though he’d been kicked in the stomach when he saw Cooper Lynch up close. It was like the dam burst on his memory of that long ago night. There stood before him the one man with whom he’d ever become intimately close.

The full measure of his attraction hit Ian square in the face. He found himself taking one step closer, intent on touching the man, remember the consuming kisses and urgent caresses. Needing to see if he was real or just a figment of an overactive imagination.

“You remember me,” Cooper said. “I thought maybe you’d forgotten.”

This wasn’t a wet dream. This was real. The deep tenor of his voice shot straight to Ian’s groin. He tasted the damp salt air. He remembered watching the dark-haired boy, of running over the rocks and swimming butt naked in the sea. He remembered hard arms wrapped around him, saving his life. Flashes of images rolled through his mind like an old film, faster and faster—so intense he couldn’t catch his breath.

Sensations overwhelmed him. He remembered hard flesh burrowing inside him, stretching him, the hot friction of virgin penetration, buried deep. And ultimately making him feel complete in a way Lane had never been able to do. Like a festering wound inside his gut was suddenly healed.

He closed his eyes and dropped his head forward.

“All this time, I’ve fought coming back here. The pain has been like a thorn stuck in my back that I just couldn’t reach. How could I have forgotten? And the dreams. The nightmares. Always reaching for something just out of reach.”

“And now you know what it is?”

He opened his eyes and looked at Cooper. Slowly he nodded. Upon seeing Cooper, everything had suddenly fallen into place. Cooper reached for him, tugging him close and when his hard mouth clamped over Cooper’s, Ian surged forward, wrapping his arms around Cooper’s honed, matured body.

Cooper whirled him around and shoved him against the wall of the lighthouse. His tongue thrusting into Ian’s mouth. His hands fastened to Ian’s face, holding him as he plundered his mouth.

Cooper tasted of the sea, an exoticness that seemed to go beyond human touch. His hands slipped beneath Cooper’s black T-shirt, pressed against sinewy muscle, honed by working the sea and the rough land.

He wanted him naked. Cooper pulled back. His gaze locked with Ian’s.

“Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere private.”

Now available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075DCMV1P

Books2Read Universal Link: https://www.books2read.com/u/mZ57pB

Smashwords Buy Link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/772856

Vinnie’s Ghost – an excerpt

Vinnie’s Ghost

[#gay_romance, #erotic_romance, #contemporary]

Vinnie’s Ghost is releasing December 11th, but you can preorder it now on Amazon. Here’s a peek at Lee and Stroker’s story.

The delivery of a letter could mean everything to two lonely men, connected by the life and death of a man who meant something special to each of them separately.

Lee Fellowes is a wounded warrior, ex-Army vet, whose best buddy died in his arms. As buddies do, Lee and Vinnie had shared intimacies—Vinnie even shared some of his steamy letters from his state-side lover, Stroker Smith, a man who makes surfboards, and communes with the sea. Now, Lee returned from the front lines and suffering from PTSD, goes in search of Stroker to deliver Vinnie’s last letter. What he never expects to find is a passion that can heal his wounded soul, fill his heart, and free his spirit.

Can these two men, who both cared for another, each wounded by that loss, find healing, peace and love together? Or will their separate burdens of loss keep them from finding a true and lasting love in each other’s arms?

EXCERPT

Stroker shucked off his shorts, and once again he took Lee’s hand. He led him outside, along the narrow sandy path lined by beach grass, and down onto the private beach. This part was fairly secluded and quite deserted. Tonight, no one else was around—the revelers were all at the other end where the fireworks were going off.

“Come for a swim,” he urged Lee. He’d try anything to take that desperate look off his face. He led Lee toward the water. “You do know how to swim, don’t you?” He’d never actually seen Lee in the water.

“Yeah, I know how. It’s awful big out there. Endless.”

“It is. And sometimes it can be savage. But that’s nature, isn’t it? That’s life.” He led him deeper into the water.

“It’s lonely,” Lee said softly, and Stroker almost missed his words.

“That’s deceptive.” Stroker moved closer to Lee. “Being out here is a challenge, but it’s not so unlike being in the army. There’s the individual who has to count on his own abilities and knowledge in order to survive.” Stroker swept his hand out in an arc, drawing Lee’s attention to the faint glow of the bonfire down the beach. “But there’s the community too. We aren’t alone in this world. Never alone. Each step, each falter, brings us closer to our destiny. Sometimes we fight it, but if we stop trying to control, to do it alone, quit trying to swim against the current, it can get a lot easier.”

“I don’t know how to do that. Not anymore,” Lee said. “I used to. There’s things I wanted to do with my life, but I’ve lost the way, and maybe the desire too.”

Stroker turned Lee to face him. He cupped his face. “There’s always another wave—another door to open—however you want to look at it. You wipe out; you try again. You never stop trying. You never stop searching. I’m not sure I realized how true that is until tonight.” He leaned forward and kissed Lee. For a moment Lee didn’t respond, but then he opened his mouth, and Stroker thrust his tongue inside, tangling it with Lee’s. There seemed some measure of desperation at first, but then the kiss turned hungry, then demanding. Stroker eased away. He drew Lee farther into the surf.

When they’d reached a point where the water was waist deep, suddenly Lee turned more assertive, and he yanked on Stroker’s hand and spun him around. The sparkle of light flashing across the sky highlighted his expressions in dark and light. He was about a head taller than Stroker, but right now the way he gazed down at him, he seemed so much bigger, stronger.

“You’re right,” Lee said. “Another wave, another door, maybe another chance. Out here, tonight, it seems anything might be possible.”

Lee yanked Stroker forward until they were chest to chest and the cool ocean water rippled over them. One of his hands circled around Stroker’s prick as the other cupped the nape of his neck. He leaned forward until Stroker could feel his lips against his ear.

“I want to fuck you,” he said in a raspy, deep voice.

“Yes,” was about the only word that Stroker could manage to utter. He also knew Lee didn’t mean inside, in Stroker’s bed. He wanted to do it right here.

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Preorder now on Amazon; releasing December 11th.

Sylvie’s Gift – An Excerpt

sylviesgift_cover_medSylvie’s Gift

(#eroticromance #MF #contemporary #submission)

Sylvie Taylor has never experienced sexual fulfillment, never felt uncontrolled desire. Her best friend, Allison Hunter, has kept secret her taste for the dark side of passion. Introducing Sylvie to sensually seductive Daimaen Sinclair, a Master of the game, has Sylvie yearning for the forbidden.
But someone has made an attempt on Sylvie’s life. Can Daimaen protect her, or is he the reason someone wants her dead?

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07JQCZ6QQ

 

EXCERPT

Sylvie woke from her erotic dream to the harsh sound of the ringing telephone. She reached out without opening her eyes. “Hello?” she mumbled.

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead.” Allison was awfully chipper this morning.

Sylvie opened one eye and looked at the clock. Ten o’clock flashed at her in blue lit digits. She sat up quickly, and the blankets fell away exposing her to chill air. Shock filled her as she realized she was completely naked. She’d never done that before. “OhmyGod!”

“What’s the matter?” There was immediate concern in Allison’s voice.

Sylvie tried to recover smoothly. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I…ah…just remembered something.”

“Daimaen’s not still there, is he?” Allison was still suspicious.

“No, he’s not.” She needed to get Allison off the phone. Sylvie’s emotions were in turmoil. She had to try to sort out what happened last night.

“Soooo. Tell me, was he what you expected?”

“Allison, I just woke up. I can’t talk about this right now. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Now wait just a minute, you aren’t getting off the hook that easy. Meet me for brunch later.”

“All right, later.” Anything to get Allison off the phone.

“Eleven-thirty at Sandi’s, okay?” Allison was not going to let it go.

“Okay, eleven-thirty, Sandi’s. I’ll talk to you later.” Sylvie quickly hung up the phone.

She lay back against the pillows, pulling the blanket up tight beneath her chin. Her body felt amazingly relaxed, yet sensitive, all at the same time. How could she have let that happen last night? That man should be outlawed. It was like he’d hypnotized her, and she realized she’d have done anything he asked.

She closed her eyes, remembering the erotic evening, the feel of his hands on her body, inside her. She was getting wet again, just thinking about it. How had he done that? No man she’d ever been intimate with had been able to bring her to release. Yet Daimaen Sinclair, a stranger whom she’d just met, not only brought her to climax once, but twice.

Her eyes widened and she gasped. He hadn’t even removed his clothes. He’d done it with his voice and his hands. Whoa, Daimaen Sinclair was a dangerous man. Certainly, dangerous to her. How had she let him take such total control of her? That never happened—she’d always made sure she was the one in control. Her dates had never
questioned it. Maybe that’s why they’d always been so forgettable. Unlike last night.

She pushed back the bedcovers and reached for her robe. She needed a cup of coffee. Maybe it would help clear the fog from her head so she could think straight.

She halted abruptly as she entered the living room. Her dress, which she vaguely remembered leaving on the floor, was now neatly folded over the back of a chair. The untouched coffee tray had been removed as well. She padded into the kitchen. Everything was neat and orderly. The timer on the coffeemaker had been set and coffee brewed, ready for her to pour. Sylvie knew she hadn’t prepared it the night before. Daimaen had to have done it.

As she moved farther into the room, she noticed a note next to the coffeemaker.

Sylvie, thank you for a memorable evening. I have a meeting to attend on Saturday, but I’ll call you on Sunday. Think of me, D. The handwriting was dark, bold, and masculine, just like the man. She read it several times. She brought it closer to her face, closed her eyes and inhaled. There was a faint hint of his remembered scent. Her
heartbeat quickened, she had to sit in a chair before her legs completely gave way. Damn, just reading the note and that faint scent had her aroused.

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Public Lives, Private Pleasures – an Excerpt

Public Lives, Private Pleasures

…a complexly layered tale, rich in detail, with characters who will grab your heart…

#erotic #contemporary #MM/M #gayromance

publiclivesprivatepleasures_medDescended from an old, very influential Virginia family with conservative views, Adrien has no desire to carry on the family’s political tradition. Still, he’s forced to hide his gay identity to protect the budding political career of his younger twin brother, Marsh, who wants to take up where their father, Senator Douglas Langtry, left off. There’s no room for mistakes, no matter how much Adrien hates living that lie.

It’s not until Adrien meets sexy Latin choreographer, Frankie Raphael, that his apathy evaporates, and he begins to questions his choices. Beautiful, passionate Frankie offers Adrien a glimpse into a world he’d only ever dared experience through the safety of the lens of his camera. Desire for Frankie makes his personal sacrifices seem suddenly unacceptable.

Dare Adrien jeopardize his brother’s political aspirations for a chance at his own happiness or will forces beyond his control slam the door shut on a life he’s only ever dreamed of? If he chooses to come out, their public lives be forever altered by the shocking revelation of their private pleasures.

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DN7RPPF

EXCERPT

It was as he was washing his hands that he happened to glance up in the mirror and then stilled as a pair of blazing green eyes captured his attention. He wiped his hands on a brown paper towel, tossed it, and then turned. For the moment the bathroom was empty except for Frankie and the man with the gorgeous green eyes. And the black silver-tipped cane.

“We’ve met before,” Frankie said. Yes, he was familiar, but if it hadn’t been for the cane, Frankie might not have recognized him. Long black hair that was now slightly disheveled and hanging loose about his shoulders almost hiding his face. Black mascara and liner that emphasized his eyes, pale complexion. Tonight he wasn’t wearing a conservative suit, but a pair of black jeans and black T-shirt that showcased his trim physique. The jeans outlined the thick bulge of an erection. The shirt was tight enough for Frankie to glimpse the outlined temptation of pierced nipples. God, he was even more tempting than the other night. He had to have this man. “Tad,” he said.

Tad’s eyes widened. Frankie could now see the green was ringed with gold, and he stepped toward the man. “You remembered,” Tad said.

Frankie smiled. He reached out a hand to trace a nipple through the fabric of the T-shirt. He gripped it with two fingers, twisted lightly, heard Tad suck in a breath. His pretty pupils dilated, almost obliterating the gold. “Yeah, I remembered.” He tugged, and Tad staggered forward. “God, I love your eyes. I’m surprised to see you here. I wouldn’t have thought it was your sort of hangout.”

He kneaded the nipple rhythmically, watching Tad’s expression, saw his gaze grow heavy with lust. But still he made no move.

“I-I come here now and then.”

“Do you? I don’t recall seeing you here before.” He released the tit and slid his hand suggestively down the front of the shirt to rest at Tad’s narrow hip. His fingers splayed at Tad’s waist, slid around to cup Tad’s sweet, tight ass, pulled forward until they were groin to groin.

“Oh, God,” Tad said and released another shuddering breath. Music pulsed in the background, making Frankie’s body throb.

“Do you want me?” Frankie asked. “Because I want to fuck you. Come home with me.” He led, his hand gripping Tad’s more firmly, leading into a slow grind. The cane clattered to the floor, and Frankie took Adrien’s weight easily. Feet slid across the floor, away from the cane, circling slowly, undulating to the music. Frankie felt Tad weakening, the rise in his body heat, the smell of arousal permeating the air in the bathroom, blending with his own scents. “I-I can’t.”

“Do you want to, Tad?” Frankie pressed him closer, both his hands now cupping Tad’s ass. “Do you want to do it right here? Right now?”

“W-what about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend? Oh, you mean Kurt?”

The one you were—”

Frankie peered closer at Tad. “Were you watching us, Tad? Is that it? Do you get off watching people?”

Frankie saw the red flush creep up Tad’s neck and flood his face. “You were watching us. Which would you prefer—the handjob or the blowjob? Or maybe both.”

Suddenly Tad jerked back. He stumbled and righted himself, drew in deep breaths, and then turned to face Frankie once again.

“You don’t know the first fucking thing about what I want.” There was so much pain attached to the words that Frankie almost winced. Pain dripping with desire.

Frankie leaned back against the sink, studying Tad. He narrowed his gaze. “Who are you, Tad? That’s not your real name, is it? What are you hiding, I wonder?” He tugged the black leather billfold out from his back pocket and pulled out a card. He replaced the wallet and then moved to Tad. First he bent down and snapped up the cane and handed it to Tad. Tad leaned heavily on the cane.  Then with one hand Frankie pulled at Tad’s waistband. With his other hand he slipped the black and silver business card down the front, fitted it snugly between the moist, hot flesh of his abdomen and the rock-hard penis. Frankie took his time about fitting the card into place. He stroked a finger slowly along the veined erection, over the ridge of Tad’s glans. He smeared the liquid of preejaculate across the head before removing his hand. God, but he wanted this man so damned bad. He was a tenacious hunter, and he had the scent.

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