Naughty List - Berengaria Brown

Good Morning everyone and Happy 2015!

Today, I'm thrilled to welcome Berengaria Brown to my blog. She's a fellow member of the Naughty Literati and her short story, Jewel’s Ménage Christmas is part of the great boxed set, Naughty List. Get to meet her with a great interview then enjoy a hot M/M story blurb and excerpt!


INTERVIEW

What is your writing process? Are you a plotter or a “pantser”?

I’m a mixture. The characters arrive in my head and start talking to me. I don’t begin writing until I have a beginning, and an ending, and several points I want to meet in the middle. The rest of the journey is sheer pantsing. Anything might happen.

How did you come up with the idea for your latest book?

After I finished writing the “Paint Store Boys” series, I kept thinking about Pinky’s gay bar. It just seemed sad that gay men had nowhere they could meet and relax except at Pinky’s. Pinky’s is a great place, but they need more than that. And then Abe decided to build a gay bath house and the “Bath House Boys” series was born.

What’s your favorite guilty pleasure?

Chocolate. Yum!

What inspired you to write male/male or menage romances?

The characters are very direct. They tell me who and what they want. Some days I just take dictation! Regarding two men and one woman ménages though, if one man kissing and touching you is nice, two men kissing and touching you can only be twice as nice.

What advice would you offer to aspiring writers?

Never give up. Keep reading, keep writing, keep polishing your craft.

In a nod to the Actor’s Studio, what's your favorite curse word and why?

Damn. Or in polite company, dayum. Why? Because saying the f word to the boss might get me terminated, but no one cares when I say day-um.

“Kissing His Man”: The Bath House Boys book 1

BLURB

Frank Ashman’s lover left him seven months, three weeks, four days, two hours and twenty-eight minutes ago. At Pinky’s gay bar the server shows him a brochure featuring the facilities of a new gay bath house that’s just opened in town. There he meets Ralph Sellars. They explore the delights of the bath house together. There are the rainforest showers, the hot tubs, the sauna, the swimming pool, and the restaurant, not to mention the freedom brought by the lack of clothing on the members there. Oh yes, and the bedrooms upstairs, each one complete with a drawer full of toys.

But both Ralph and Frank are burdened with baggage from the past. Can they move on and make a new future together? Or is their relationship doomed to be just sex in the bath house instead of a genuine future together outside in the world?

STORY EXCERPT

Ralph Sellars dumped his jeans, boots, and black wifebeater into the locker, slammed it shut, wrapped the towel he’d been given around his waist, and marched down the hallway to the huge swimming pool area. The ceiling was glass, or something that looked like glass, so the sun shone down on the pool, making it almost appear to be outdoors, except it wasn’t. An outdoor pool would be too cold for his liking at this time of year. He dropped his butt onto one of the chaise longues around the pool and lay back, ready to people-watch for a while. Then he’d swim, maybe try out the sauna, and definitely hang out in the public shower room for a while.

His membership here at the bathhouse was his thirtieth birthday present to himself, and he hoped it’d lead to some hot sex. To his right there were three unoccupied chaise longues, and then two pushed close together. From the looks of the tented towel around one man’s waist, those two men were doing more than just holding hands. He wished them luck. He hoped to get laid today, too. It’d been way too long since he’d had any company other than his own hand. Coming here was the first step in his plans to get out more.

It was just that his fucking boss always seemed to be going through one crisis after another, and he always expected Ralph to save his ass. Well Ralph was getting tired of doing that. He was more interested in fucking a willing man’s ass than pulling his boss’s ass out of yet another fire of the man’s own making. From now on he wasn’t going to answer his cell phone out of hours when his boss called him.

Ralph looked over at several occupied chairs on the other side of the pool, but the men there were just lying back, relaxing, like he was supposed to be doing. No action there. He crossed his arms over his chest staring at the ink on his left arm. He had the full sleeve completed now, and every part of the picture was a symbol that had a special meaning for him.

He ran a finger over the rose that signified the baby sister he’d adored all through his childhood and teenage years. But she’d grown up and become a total bitch, which was why the stem of the rose was covered in sharp thorns. He never would have guessed she’d become an adult who was totally bigoted against gay people.

A splash made him look at the pool again. A slender red-haired man was slicing expertly through the water. He looked like someone who came here every day and swam length after length. But instead he swam only to the end of the pool and got out. He’d left his towel at the other end of the pool, and Ralph had plenty of time to stare at the redhead’s lean but wiry body and taut little ass. Now that was an ass that interested him. Especially since the man seemed not to care about being naked. Ralph liked a bit of exhibitionism with his sex.

The redhead picked up his towel, rubbed his hair and upper body, and then tied it around his waist before walking over to the door that led to the sauna. Ralph climbed off his chair and followed him.

Not being used to saunas, Ralph stayed on the lowest step, working on the idea that hot air rises, so it’d be coolest lower down. The redhead, however, was sitting on the top row, leaning his back against the wooden wall.

“Wasn’t the pool warm enough for you?” he asked, wanting to get to know this interesting man.

“Hell, no. I mean, it’s heated. It’s warm, but I think I’ll like it better after a sauna when I want to cool down. Now this heat, this is delicious. This I like.”

“I do, too. Of course, in another five minutes I might have changed my mind.”

The other man laughed. “Yeah, me, too. I’m Francis, Frank.”

“Ralph. What do you do for a living, Frank?”

“I’m a town planner. What about you?”

For the first time ever he told a stranger what he really did, not the politically correct, politely spun version of his job. “I’m the bogeyman. I expose insurance frauds.”

“I don’t see that makes you the bogeyman. If people weren’t lying and cheating already they wouldn’t have any reason to fear you.”

Ralph laughed. “I think you’re the first person ever to see it that way. Most people think the rules are there to be broken. They see the extremely rich finding ways to avoid paying tax and think insurance premiums mean the money belongs to them and that the comparatively small amounts they steal are fair game. But I don’t chase people for ten cents. I chase them for thousands of dollars. And that includes the wealthy as well.”

Ralph stretched out on the step so he could see Frank’s face better. They began talking about their likes and dislikes, and when the buzzer rang to say their fifteen minutes in the sauna was up, Ralph was really surprised. He didn’t feel too hot, and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to stop talking to Frank.

“I suppose we’d better have a swim to cool down,” he said reluctantly.

Frank joined him on the floor of the sauna. “After that, let’s come back here. I was enjoying our time together.”

Ralph gripped the smaller man’s arms and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I was, too.” He stepped back and opened the door. Damn, the man had tasted nice. His lips were soft and sweet and just the tiniest bit sweaty and salty. I want more of him. Tonight.

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/kissing-his-man

Berengaria Brown Bio:

Berengaria is an award-winning, best-selling, multi-published author of erotic romance with over one hundred published digital, print and audio books. She writes contemporary, paranormal (magic, ghosts, vampires, fairies, dragons, and werewolves), futuristic, medieval, and Regency-set historical. She loves to read all different kinds of romance so that is what she writes: MMF, MFM, FMMM, FFM, MM, FF, and MF. Whatever the characters need for their very hot happily-ever-after, Berengaria makes sure they get it.

Berengaria Brown links:
http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/ 
http://berengariabrown.com/
Friend her on Facebook, follow her on Twitter

Naughty List - On the Eighteenth of January '78

Good Morning everyone! Today, I'm thrilled to welcome Regina Kammer to my blog. She's a fellow member of the Naughty Literati and her short story, On the Eighteenth of January '78 -or- A Night at Valley Forge is part of the great boxed set, Naughty List.

Here's an opportunity to get to know Regina and then I'll share the short blurb for her story and an excerpt!

Which person in your life influenced you the most with your writing?

Chris Baty,the founder of National Novel Writing Month. Chris believes anyone can write a novel and challenges people to write 50,000 words of a novel during the thirty days of November. I took up that challenge back in 2006 and have been having fun as an author ever since. Every time I see him, he is super encouraging, as well.

Is one of your books your personal favorite? Why? 

“The General’s Wife: An American Revolutionary Tale” is my favorite. It’s both erotica—with the sexual journey of the heroine—and romance—with a Happily Ever After, plus it’s an adventure story with a lot of history. It is the epitome of what I set out to write when I decided to become a writer. It’s also self-published so there are some naughty scenes that I’m certain most publishers would balk at.

What’s coming up next for you in your writing?

Besides the Naughty List anthology I’m in with another American Revolution-set short story,I’m hoping to explore Steampunk a little more. The genre dovetails very well with the Victorian era, which I love writing, but there is freedom to add little twists to technology and the historical timeline.

What’s your favorite guilty pleasure?

A steaming hot bath with a cocktail and romance novel. This is so much more guilt-inducing when performed in drought-stricken California.

Where would you like to visit and why?

I’d love to go back to Turkey. I’m an art historian and Turkey is one of those “crossroads of civilization” places. Neolithic, Greek, Roman, Byzantine, Seljuk, Ottoman art and archaeology abound. Plus the food is amazing.

In a nod to the Actor’s Studio, what's your favorite curse word and why?

“Bollocks” for Brits, “Shit” for Americans. I love using these in my historicals! They suggest massive disappointment in one terse word.


*****

Short Blurb:


On The Eighteenth of January, ’78; or, A Night At Valley Forge

During the infamous winter of ‘77-‘78 at Valley Forge, two soldiers fanboy over their charismatic leader, General George Washington.


Excerpt from On the Eighteenth of January, ’78; or, A Night at Valley Forge

Copyright © Regina Kammer, 2014

“I saw him today,” Zeb said quietly.

Him could only refer to one man. Zeb held General George Washington in something more than high regard. He worshipped the man, hoping for a chance to see him every day, blushing and fawning like a virgin miss at an assembly hall during a country dance whenever the general happened across their squad. Barn wasn’t sure if it was endearing or unseemly.

Yet, it was too easy to fall under the spell that was “GW”. The general had an allure, a magnetism that drew all in, making women swoon and men want to serve. If the notion of independent states, the freedom to rise above circumstance of birth, the prospect of taxes building a nation rather than filling a king’s coffers did not attract the sons and daughters of America, then GW the man certainly did. Just his very presence got one’s blood to boil against tyranny, set one’s pulse beating to the rhythm of liberty, urged one’s feet to march for freedom.

GW was the sole reason why twelve thousand American soldiers camped on a plateau above a captured Philadelphia, keeping a watchful eye on the British while enduring freezing rains and the privations of civilized life, lacking proper clothes, nourishing food, suffering the pains of amputation and the stench of death.

“He was on foot,” Zeb murmured. “His great height the equal of mine own, yet I felt so small before him. His blue eyes penetrated my soul as he asked such simple questions—”

Zeb’s cock sprang to life in his clothes, pushing into Barn’s left butt cheek. Barn stifled a sigh.

“Did we have enough tools? Was there enough wood?”

Barn reached around and slowly unfastened the buttons at the fall of Zeb’s breeches. As always, Zeb gave no protest.

“He seemed very concerned our hut had not yet been constructed.”

Barn snorted. “Yeah, well, with Alex and Johnny laid up with dysentery and Zack dead, it’s been slow going.”

Zeb did not respond. He merely adjusted himself to allow Barn’s questing fingers better access at the placket of his drawers. Barn struggled to contain his zeal.

“He took off his hat to speak to me. His gray hair was still tinged with a touch of the auburn of his youth.”

Freed from its prison of clothes, Zeb’s magnificent manhood bobbed impetuously. Barn gripped the hard flesh, closing his eyes as heat from the intimate connection seeped through his fingerless gloves to course through his body.

“His timbre was melodious, almost enchanting. I could listen to him talk about felling trees all day.”

Barn chuckled. “And not do any felling yourself, hmm?”

Again Zeb ignored him, instead steering the conversation to his favorite topic. “How do you think he guards against the cold all alone in his tent?” There was a poignant earnestness to his question.

Barn twisted around to face his companion, the adulation and concern in Zeb’s expression softly illuminated by the dying campfire outside. “I’m sure his greatcoat keeps him plenty warm.” Zeb’s devotion to GW spawned a fragility that impelled Barn to want to protect his tent mate, to comfort him in the only way he knew how.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR:  REGINA KAMMER

Regina Kammer is an award-nominated, Amazon best-selling, multi-published writer of erotica and historical erotic romance. Her short stories and novels have been published by Cleis Press, Go Deeper Press, Ellora’s Cave, House of Erotica, and her own imprint, Viridium Press. She began writing historical fiction with romantic elements during National Novel Writing Month 2006, switching to erotica when all her characters suddenly demanded to have sex.

Keep up with Regina at: http://kammerotica.com/

Follow her on Twitter: @Kammerotica

 https://twitter.com/Kammerotica 

Or Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+ReginaKammer

Like her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Kammerotica

Connect with her on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4444724.Regina_Kammer

See what’s new on her Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0054EIEMI

Virtual Blog Tour - After the Rain by Daisy Harris

I'd like to welcome a Goddess Fish tour guest as my visitor today! Daisy will be awarding a $20 gift card to Amazon or Barnes and Noble to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour, and a $10 gift card to a randomly drawn host. So be sure to follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better the chances of winning!

BLURB:

They’re going to need a bigger tent.

Henri’s list of bad exes is as long as his arm, but nothing prepared him for his latest, heart-stomping breakup. He thought he couldn’t feel more abandoned, until his ride for a group camping trip bails, leaving him stuck driving for hours with a guy who is absolutely not his type.

After breaking up with his girlfriend of five years, firefighter Logan is working up the nerve to explore his interest in men. He knows he’s gay. He just hasn’t had the guts to do anything about it…until now.

Henri’s big-city attitude and tight jeans push every last one of Logan’s buttons, and when he and Henri have to share a tent, Logan is thrilled. He should have realized Pacific Northwest weather would get wet—forcing them to strip naked. Though the steam between them is thicker than coastal fog, Henri’s not sure he can let himself fall for another man. Not even the guy who finally treats him right.

Warning: Contains bad ex-boyfriends, even worse weather, and more than your average amount of sex in a tent. May not be suitable for those with germ phobias, outdoor aversions or fear of damp shoes.

Excerpt:

The first thing Henri smelled when he woke up was coffee. The second was bacon.

He rolled onto his back, staring at the top of the tent and anticipating the salty, crisp fat. Henri was probably sublimating with food since he wouldn’t be getting laid anytime soon, but if he couldn’t eat cock, bacon was a pretty good substitute.

The smell of Logan was there too, though the guy himself no longer took up the better part of the tent. Henri lifted his head off the sweatpants he’d somehow replaced his pillow with in the middle of the night, and assessed his surroundings. Logan’s duffel filled the corner, meaning Logan must have slept scrunched in the shortened space. Other than that, Logan’s side of the tent was completely clean.

Henri’s side, on the other hand, looked like his suitcase had vomited in the night.

The tent flap rustled, and a slice of Logan’s face appeared in the opening. “You awake?”

“Yeah.” Henri started to smile, and he forced his lips to a smirk instead. Things had been fine the night before, more comfortable than Henri would have expected, once Logan had stopped talking, but Henri didn’t want to get too friendly with Logan and lead the guy on. Between the STI thing and still being hung up on Preston, Henri was in no position to start dating. “Is that coffee at someone else’s campsite, or is there a chance I can have some?”

Logan reached into the tent, a travel mug in his giant fist, and handed it to Henri. His grin was shy, and his cheeks red.

Well, drat. Henri was leading him on just by not kicking the guy.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn't sure if she writes erotica. Her romances start out innocently enough. However, her characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris's dismay the sex tends to get completely out of hand.

She writes about fantastical creatures and about young men getting their freak on, and she's never missed an episode of The Walking Dead.

Want to learn more about new releases, general news and my latest inappropriate boy band crush? Sign up for my newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/b96xX

Daisy’s site: www.thedaisyharris.com

Daisy’s Fan Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Daisy-Harris/185042351535537

Daisy on Twitter: https://twitter.com/thedaisyharris

After the Rain on Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/After-Rain-Fire-Daisy-Harris-ebook/dp/B00EKJGRJA

Virtual Blog Tour - Evelyn Shepherd's Event Horizon

Today, I'd like to welcome Evelyn Shepherd to my blog. Her new release, Event Horizon, is the second book in her LGBT Paranormal Theo Bourne series.  The author will be giving away a $20 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter during her tour. And remember, the more you comment, the better the chances of winning! Follow the blog tour...here.

* * * 

Thanks Francesca for having me. I’m excited to discuss about the world in my Theo Bourne series. I’ve always created new worlds. I love creating new life, new rules, and new versions of history. When I sat down to write Theo’s story I had to think about how I wanted the world to be. Did I want the preternatural world to be something of mystery or did I want it to be part of society? There are a lot of questions you have to ask when you create a world, even when it only has a slight deviation from the world we live in now. You want it to believable and to flow naturally with a story.

I couldn’t, let’s say, say that Greek gods existed in Theo’s world when he turns around and worships God. Everything has a purpose and you need to find that purpose.

The big thing that was important was the fact that Theo was a detective that followed paranormal investigations. So I wanted to create it so supernatural creatures were part of society, as normal as regular mortals. Beyond that, Theo’s world is just like our own. It was more about creating the creatures within it.

Theo is a Phantom, a human with the ability of bilocation and telekinesis. When I created Theo’s race, I had to think about how their hierarchy would go. Lycanthropes run like a wolf pack. Vampires have master vampires, ancients, and fledglings. Phantoms I based off the idea of monarchy. Since I designed it so Phantoms were a rare breed, I decided that they wouldn’t be based on small packs like Lycans or by sires. Instead Phantoms from all around the world are ranked. The top rank is a Godking and the lowest are Knights. Theo refuses to take part in any of it. You could consider him a lone wolf.

It’s definitely fun creating a new world. The idea of you can do anything you imagine is implied. There are no limits. Everything you want is possible. It’s just a matter of making it work.

* * * 

Evelyn - thanks so much for sharing your ideas on world building. Now I'd like to share a bit about your new release with the readers!





BLURB:   

Valentine’s Day turns into a nightmare when an ancient vampire burns her way through the greater Columbus, ushering in the Aztec God of Death. Theo and Carlos will have to set aside their personal problems in order to put an end to a deranged killer. But as the body count rises, they find out they’re going up against more than a vampire -– they’re going up against each other.

In the midst of the chaos, Theo faces his own personal turmoil. When Lloyd confronts Theo about his feelings, Theo isn’t sure whether his heart still belongs to Carlos or if he truly cares for Lloyd. If he wants to save the world, Theo will have to overcome his troubled heart and harness the power within.

An Excerpt from Evelyn Shepherd's Event Horizon (A Theo Bourne Novel)

I thought I was drowning. There was a brief moment—when my vision turned black and my mind went blank—when I was sure I was standing in front of the devil.

How many people can honestly walk away from the devil after shaking his hand? No one. Because once you shake his hand, you never truly leave him. He has a piece of my soul. It was the price I paid to come back to life. Eventually he was going to collect the rest of his debt.

I wasn’t drowning, though, and he wasn’t here for his final pound of flesh. I cut through the water, and reality cleared in the rise of air bubbles. I started on my first lap, focusing my attention on strengthening my knee and not on the thousands of thoughts swirling in my mind. I had screwed my knee up four months ago, and even though I had been out of rehabilitation for almost two months, I still had to work on getting it back to normal.

My back was an intricate network of knots. After a long day, I just wanted to let it all drift away. The Olympic-size pool wasn’t an ocean that could carry me away on the current, though, so I kept on swimming, pushing myself as hard as I could.

There were nights when I woke up screaming. I used to think the nightmares that stalked me were bad, but now the ones that followed me, even during waking hours, were far worse. I was just a step away from becoming a monster, and the nightmares reminded me of how close I was to falling over that edge.

I hit the other side of the pool, flipped in the water, returned to the opposite end. I was able to work out the stiffness in my limbs after the first lap. I continued to do ten more, each one helping take away the heavy burden of the day.

I broke the surface and grabbed on to the concrete ledge of the pool, holding on tight as I dragged in a slow breath of air.

“Mi corazón, are you done?” Carlos’s voice drifted down to me. I could make out his scruffy black sneakers just a few feet away from my hands.

I looked up at him, taking in the low-slung red basketball shorts, the tight black tank, and the inches of glistening caramel skin slicked by sweat. My cock twitched with life.

My name is Theo Bourne, and I’m a detective for the Columbus Police Department’s Preternatural Task Force. It’s my job to control the arcane underbelly of the city. Originally I had been a member of the NYC division, but after losing my partner, I moved back to Columbus.

That was when I met Carlos.

He was supposed to have been a one-night stand four months ago. But that theory went out the window as soon as I found out he was my partner on the task force. Somehow, without me even knowing it, Carlos had broken through the iron walls around my heart as if they were made of mud. Now he was my lover, and it scared me how much I found myself needing him.

“Yeah,” I said and hoisted myself up out of the pool. “What were you doing?”

“Basketball with Scott and Hennessey,” he said and reached up to brush some damp burgundy bangs from my eyes. He dusted his fingers over the cross-shaped scar on my forehead. He always seemed partial to stroking it, his sadness radiating with the gingerly brush of his fingertips.

When I was a teenager, my parents had our local priest perform an exorcism on me. They couldn’t handle the fact that their baby was a Phantom. Instead, they branded me as a demon and tried to save my soul. The cross on my forehead was the mark I carried for their mistake.

I don’t know why the cross the priest held reacted to me. Maybe I am a demon—a monster.

Carlos couldn’t seem to let it go like I had. He still held on to the delusion that he could save me from all my pain. Maybe he could, but then again, maybe he couldn’t.

It didn’t really matter. I can’t change who I am, a vagabond who roams the world, a soldier without an army, the hero who lost his blade. I’m a Phantom, a will-o’-the-wisp.

A Phantom is a rare human with the combined powers of psychokinesis and the ability to create doppelgängers. There aren’t many Phantoms out there; I’ve only met one—an asshole by the name of Rhett Bishop. There is a hierarchy of Phantoms that make up the Council, and if I really wanted, I probably could meet others. But the truth was I didn’t give a damn.

“Hey,” Carlos said, breaking through my thoughts. The timbre of his voice, enriched by a Spanish accent, stroked me like fur against my naked flesh. I could always hear the coyote growl that hibernated deep in him. I constantly itched to unleash that beast.

“Hmm?”

“What are you thinking about so seriously?” he asked as he cupped both sides of my face. I’m not short, six foot to be exact, but Carlos dominated me by an extra four inches.

“Nothing important,” I said and tangled my hand in his ponytail. His thick black mane generally fell down past his shoulders, but today he had pulled it back. I pulled out the band holding it up and grabbed a fistful of lush locks, tugging hard.

“Sure didn’t look like nothing,” Carlos murmured as his brown eyes brightened to a golden topaz.

I gave his hair another tug and ordered, “Shut up, mutt, and kiss me.”

Carlos chuckled and closed the space between us. His hand found my left nipple, his long fingers hooking around the silver hoop. He pulled it hard, just how I liked it, and tugged me even closer.

I could feel his power sleeping, held in place only by his sheer will. Carlos is the alpha leader to the local werecoyote pack. Sleeping with him was a dangerous game, but I was addicted to it like an adrenaline junkie.

His mouth was hot, his tongue stealing the breath I had just gotten back. I could feel his cock bumping against mine, and every part of me wanted to rip his shorts down and drop to my knees to worship him.

He let go of my nipple ring—I really should get a second one—and ran his hands over the hard contours of my body. He slid his hands along my broad shoulders, down the tight sinew of muscles cording my arms, and gripped my hips with such strength, I was sure there’d be finger marks left behind.

Carlos pulled away and attacked my neck, sucking on my sweet spot on the left side. His teeth grazed my skin, and a shot of electricity jolted down my spine. I grabbed on to his shoulder with my free hand to anchor myself.

My body hummed with the heat radiating from him. The tight pain in my right knee dulled against the feel of our hard bodies rubbing against one another. It didn’t even occur to me that someone could walk into the pool area at any moment—even if the pool area had been empty since I came to the rec center.

Slowly he trailed his lips over my throat, working his way to my neck. All the tingling sensations abruptly died. The entire right side of my neck down to the collarbone was a mass of pearly scar tissue. During our first case, I’d had my throat ripped out by a werewolf. Luckily I hadn’t started turning furry the following full moon. But now the only thing I felt was the faintest sensation of pressure. The doctor said eventually I’d get feeling back, but so far, nothing.

Carlos kept forgetting that fact.

I shoved him off. “I can’t feel anything, you damn mutt.”

He had the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry…forgot.”

It pissed me off more that I was denied the feel of him on that one part of my body. I didn’t want any sensation to be canceled. When it came to him, I wanted to feel it all, have it all. It was selfish, hell, maybe even weak, but he seemed to hold that kind of power over me.

He nudged closer again and dotted kisses along my right cheek, whispering, “You’ll get the feeling back soon, corazón. Te prometo.”

“Whatever,” I grumbled, not sure if I believed that or not. I didn’t fight him when he leaned in for a chaste kiss. As he pulled back, I looked up at the clock above the door to the pool. It was a quarter till seven. “Shit, I’ve got to go. I have to get ready to meet Lloyd.”

The air in the room instantly thickened. Carlos’s aura spilled out like a breaking dam and nearly choked me. His hand seized my bicep tightly and held me in place.

“Just come back to the house with me, mi corazón. We can take a hot shower, open a bottle of wine…”

I pulled my arm from his grip. “I told you already I had plans with Lloyd.”

His jaw tightened, and a glare creased his brows, darkening his gaze. His eyes flashed a brighter topaz, the coyote in him clawing its way up to the surface.

Carlos and Lloyd were like two dogs fighting over a scrap of meat, and I was the meat.

“Damn it, stop,” I warned. I didn’t break eye contact as he glared at me.

Anger and frustration warred behind his eyes, and his power grew thicker, became a pair of hands that grabbed my throat and throttled me. I gave him a firm mental shove, sending him stumbling back a few feet, and snapped, “Carlos!”

He let out a growl and ran his hands up his face, slid them through his hair. “Fuck, okay! Fine!”

The air in the room instantly became lighter, his aura whooshing out like someone had opened a window. I continued to glare in his direction, gauging his mood.

He dropped his hands at his side and asked, a pout coming to his full lips, “What time will you be home?”

I shook my head in resignation and said with a small smile, “Once the concert is over, you dolt. I won’t be late.”

My apartment had been trashed during a case, to the point that it had to be completely renovated. While it was being worked on, I was staying with Carlos. I didn’t mind living with him temporarily, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready for a permanent stay.

Chocolate spiraled through his eyes, the golden hue spinning down a drain like it had never been. He nodded and leaned in for one more kiss.

His hand snaked out around my waist and pulled me close so our bodies molded together. I could smell the sweat on his skin, and it sent tingles down my spine.

“Carlos,” I mumbled without pulling away. I wasn’t doing a good job of leaving.

“Mmm?” He nipped at my lower lip and then dragged his tongue down my jaw, lapping up a bead of water.

My entire body zinged to life. My brain rerouted its thought process, turning its focus on the man in front of me. His hand dipped lower down my waist, inching past the band of my swim trunks so he could sneak a finger down my crack. I arched up and let out a throaty moan, giving him a chance to attack my throat with his skilled tongue.

Lloyd. Concert. Got to get to… Oh God that feels good.

I felt Carlos’s finger hedge closer to my entrance, and I wanted nothing more than to rut backward into his hand. The door to the pool opened a crack, and someone shouted from the other side, “What did you say?”

Carlos and I ripped apart just as the person walked into the pool area. I struggled to switch off the sudden animalistic desire to mount Carlos and said somewhat shakily, “Right…so I’m going.”

“Have fun.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” I said, more than eager to go home and sink into bed with him. Instead I snatched my towel up and headed to the locker room to get ready to go out for the evening, towel drying my hair along the way.

 * * *

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Evelyn Shepherd lives in Columbus with a fox terrier named Sunny and a ferocious appetite for sexy urban fantasies and horrors. She spends her time writing, but when she isn't working on her next novel she's either reading or spoiling her nieces and nephew. She is currently working hard at her next novel.

LINKS:

Website: http://evelynshepherd.com/
Blog: http://singleauthorseeks.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Evelyn-Shepherd/133411650060305
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/eveeshepherd
Buy Links:
http://www.loose-id.com/Event-Horizon.aspx
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/event-horizon-evelyn-shepherd/1108580796?ean=9781611187397
http://www.amazon.com/Event-Horizon-Theo-Bourne-ebook/dp/B0071CKKFA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1334782856&sr=8-1

Virtual Blog Tour - Leah Petersen's Fighting Gravity

Today, I want to welcome author Leah Petersen to my blog today. She's the author of Fighting Gravity, a m/m science fiction romance. Leah has agreed to answer some interview questions about her work and her knitting. Grin...


During her virtual blog tour, Lean will be giving away a prize pack containing these items hand knit by the author: a hat and a replica of the symbol of an important institution referenced in Fighting Gravity to TWO randomly drawn commenters during the tour.

1.      Which person in your life influenced you the most with your writing?

Honestly, it was probably all the authors of all the books I read as a child. I’ve learned tons along the way from fantastic people and great books, but what influenced me the most was when someone else put words to paper that could take my breath away or make me cry. I wanted to do that.

2.      What is your writing process? Are you a plotter or a “pantser”?

I’m definitely a pantser, which I’m discovering is HARD when you’re on a deadline. But typically I know the character I want to write, know either the most tragic part or how I want the story to end, and I just start writing to see what unfolds from there.

  3. How did you come up with the idea for your latest book?

FIGHTING GRAVITY started as a dream about a young boy—a physics prodigy—taken from his family to a special school because the government decided they wanted the benefit of his talents for themselves. He was just starting out there when I woke up. But the feelings attached to the dream had been very strong: loss, loneliness, fear, rejection, and it was the lingering pull of those emotions that made me need to know what happened to him.

4. How did you handle the worldbuilding for Fighting Gravity?

Pretty much the same way I write a plot. I knew what I wanted the world to look like, so I just reverse-engineered from there, to see how it got to be the way it was. Since it’s set in a future Earth, there was the necessity to figure out how we got from where we are now, to a society that’s really almost the opposite of some of the things we place the most importance on now, like democracy, personal freedoms, self-determination, etc.

  5. What inspired you to write a male/male romance?

It wasn’t something I planned. Jake fell in love with the emperor. Oops. Now what do I do? This goes back to that pantser thing. I’m not sorry it happened, though. It turned out to be the best part of the book.

  6. What’s coming up next for you in your writing?

I’m working on the sequel to Fighting Gravity, currently titled Impact Velocity.

  7. What do you enjoy reading for pleasure?

Sci-fi and fantasy. Lately I’ve developed a taste for m/m literature (research for Fighting Gravity, naturally.) But I almost always read sci-fi and fantasy, always have.

  8. What’s your favorite guilty pleasure?

M/m romance? Or maybe gaming? I try not to feel guilty about anything I enjoy. ;)

  9. What is your favorite quote and why?

I collect quotes so I have way too many to have one favorite. But one of the latest in my collection is:

What's the point of havin' a rapier wit if I can't use it to stab people?

-Jeph Jacques

I don’t think that requires any explanation.

 10. Why do you enjoy knitting and have you come up with story ideas while you knit?

I enjoy knitting because it’s peaceful (most of the time) to do with my hands and something useful comes out of it in the end. I don’t get many writing ideas while knitting. Unfortunately it seems to take up just enough of my concentration that I’m not free to let my mind wander the way I need to be really creative.

I knit a lot while reading and watching TV, though.

  11. Which knitting project have you done that is your favorite and why?

I think my favorite so far has been the fingerless gloves. I made them for myself but they’re very time consuming and take a lot of focused attention (not a book reading or TV watching project) so I only make them for very special people as gifts.

*** 

Fighting Gravity

BLURB:

 

When Jacob Dawes is Selected for the Imperial Intellectual Complex as a child, he’s catapulted from the poverty-stricken slums of his birth into a world where his status as an unclass is something no one can forget, or forgive. His growing scientific renown draws the attention of the emperor, a young man Jacob’s own age, and they find themselves drawn to each other in an unlikely, and ill-advised relationship. Jacob may have won the emperor’s heart, but it’s no protection when he’s accused of treason. And fighting his own execution would mean betraying the man he loves.

EXCERPT:

“Happy birthday, by the way,” I said one evening almost a week later as the emperor accompanied me from the dining hall to the lab.

“Thank you,” he replied. “To you as well.”

“How did you know it was my birthday?”

“Oh, there’s not much I don’t know if I choose to,” he said with a smile.

“OK, I should have known that. I suppose I mean, why do you know?”

“In my position, I’ve found curiosity to be an asset. I don’t believe there is such a thing as knowing too much.”

That wasn’t a comfortable thought. How much he could know. How much he knew.

“I’m older,” he added after a long silence. I raised my eyebrows. “Only about six hours, but it counts.”

I had to laugh. “You’re one of the most powerful men in the galaxy and it matters to you whether or not you’re older than me?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t it matter to you?”

“That’s not the same thing. There’s a huge power differential between us. At least age would be something I’d have over you.”

“I get the feeling that power doesn’t mean that much to you.”

“Unless you mean as a function of energy.” I grinned at him. “No. I have no need for it. It would get in the way of my work.”

“What did you do for your birthday?” he said after a pause.

“Radiation measurements.”

He laughed. “No party?”

“With whom?”

“Haven’t you made any friends aboard ship? I know it’s only been three weeks, but you don’t seem to be the kind of person who would have trouble making friends.”

“Maybe you don’t know me very well. In my experience, there aren’t many people who are interested in being friends with me.”

“Maybe it’s they who don’t know you very well.”

I frowned, puzzled. When I looked at him again he was watching me. “And what have you concluded?” he asked.

“About what?”

“You look like you’re trying to decide something. My guess is you’re trying to figure me out.”

I thought about that before I replied. “You’re confusing,” I conceded.

He grinned. Reaching into his pocket, he produced something and handed it to me. “Here. Happy birthday.”

He’d given me a small box. I looked at him, surprised, but when he said nothing further I opened it. Inside was a pair of platinum cuff links with a raised imperial crest on them. “I thought they might be less objectionable than a ring.”

I frowned. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“I assure you, I don’t need anything.”

“Neither do I. That’s not the point.”

He shrugged. “It’s the thought that counts. We’ll just say you gave me something.”

“I’m sure you can say whatever you want, but I never thought of giving you anything.”

He stared at me in shock and then started laughing so hard he had to stop walking. We stood in the middle of the hallway and I watched both directions as I waited for him to get control of himself. If someone came along and saw him like this, it wouldn’t go well for me. When he caught his breath he said, “You never thought of giving me anything.” He repeated it as if it was the punch line to a good joke. “Not even just now, when I gave you something?”

“No,” I said. “I can’t imagine what I would get you.”

“Well, whether you realize it or not, you’ve been giving me a gift for the last ten minutes,” he said.

I grimaced. “You’re not going to say something weird like ‘the gift of your company,’ are you?”

He doubled over with laughter again. “No,” he answered when he’d composed himself. “No, I was going to say that we’ve been talking for more than ten minutes and you haven’t called me ‘Excellence’ once.”

I startled. “I’m sorry.” It occurred to me that I should have said “Excellence” just then.

He was grinning. “Don’t be. Isn’t that what I just said? No one’s ever done that to me before. It’s very disrespectful. I like it.

***

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

 

Leah Petersen lives in North Carolina. She does the day-job, wife, and mother thing, much like everyone else. She prides herself on being able to hold a book with her feet so she can knit while reading. She’s still working on knitting while writing.

FIGHTING GRAVITY is her first novel.

Twitter: http://twitter.com/LeahPetersen

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LeahPetersenAuthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/leahpetersen

Google+: http://profiles.google.com/leahpetersen

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/lpetersenauthor/

I've Fallen in Love with Josh Lanyon

You should always listen to your critique partner. Or at least I should. I bow to her infinite wisdom. My aforementioned critique partner, Paris Brandon, has been telling me for months…MONTHS…that I should read Josh Lanyon. My reply was always, “I’ve got him on my TBR list. I really do. I’ll get there.”

Well, I finally got there. What does he write? Well, Mr. Lanyon has been writing gay mystery, adventure and romance fiction for over a decade and it shows. Oh wow.

So, I downloaded Josh’s Adrien English mystery series to my Nook Color last week and over the weekend (it was Thursday or Friday night) I opened my first book. It was not the last I opened all weekend. In fact I read all five of the Adrien (with an ‘e’) English series then downloaded the Holmes and Moriarity mystery series too. I finished Somebody Killed His Editor on Sunday night and  All She Wrote on Monday morning. This week I've also read Lone Star, Icecapade and I'm working on This Rough Magic.

Oh. Ma. Gah! They are the best!

Now when I opened the first Adrien book – Fatal Shadows  – I started reading and I groaned. It’s in first person. Generally, I hate reading first person stories. It has nothing to do with an author’s ability or anything else. I just don’t enjoy reading it. I think I finished page one then promptly forgot which “person” the story was being told in. It was that damn good and I was totally hooked.

I loved the voice. I loved the humor. And MAN did I love the characters. I also loved the romance and the sex. Josh writes very hot and deeply emotional stories. So I'm in love with Josh. Well, with his writing anyway. If you've never read a Josh Lanyon book, I highly recommend giving his work a shot. You'll be glad you did.

And you won't have to bow and scrape before your critique partner when she tells you, "I told you so." Yeah, Paris honey. I know you did. Sigh. You were totally right.