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Mayon Now Available

By
27
Nov 2012

Blurb

The Philippines, 1946

After being discharged from the Marines, John Buchanan takes a position as overseer for plantation owner Ignacio Saenz. The work is good, but the real draw for John is Mount Mayon, the active volcano looming in the island’s horizon. Finally he has a chance to put his interrupted studies in vulcanology into practice.

Gregorio Delgado, the current overseer, isn’t thrilled at being replaced. However, he can’t ignore his attraction to John, who appears to be a kindred spirit. But John throws mixed signals—and more importantly, he pays too much attention to Margarita, one of Ignacio’s marriageable daughters.

As John and Gregorio begin a tour of the haciendas, John discovers he has far more in common with his new acquaintance than he thought possible. Torn between honor and desire, John struggles to define who he is and what Gregorio could mean to him. Like the unpredictable volcano, equal parts beauty and danger, Gregorio becomes an obsession that could erupt at any minute and destroy them both.

Excerpt

Their pace was measured, due to the soggy conditions left by last night’s torrential rains. In some spots, the horses were fetlock-deep in mud, and John was grateful the animals were bearing the brunt of the quagmire. Nevertheless, the storm had washed away the accumulated dust, turning leaves and flowers into a sparkling kaleidoscope. The greens were iridescent, providing a luscious background for the yellow, violet, pink, and blue flowers growing abundantly throughout the dense forest skirting Mount Bulasan, the active volcano overlooking Ignacio’s property. The proximity to the volcano added an element of danger that provided a thrill John had seldom experienced. It could erupt at any minute, yet sixty barangays were scattered on the periphery of the mountain. So long as there were crops to be harvested, and beauty to behold, the people who populated these small towns remained in place, praying it wouldn’t all turn to ashes. The last recorded activity had occurred in December 1933, and it had been a mild series of dust emissions and lava outpourings. A dozen years later, the population was entirely too complacent to John’s way of thinking. As far as he was concerned, the composite volcano was due to blow its gasket at any time.

“Is it much farther?” John asked. He assumed Greg had an idea since he was the one who’d suggested they visit the hot and cold springs in San Benon. The healing properties of the sulfuric water would go a long way toward soothing his tired muscles. Touring the plantation had been grueling, and he wasn’t close to being finished. They’d only seen a small portion of the five hundred hectares, and now John knew more than he’d ever want to know about the versatile coconut; “the tree of life,” as it was called hereabouts.

John had listened patiently while Greg once again enumerated the by-products of the big green nut: meat, oil, juice, husk, pith, shell charcoal, leaves, trunk, and roots. The list was very long. No wonder Ignacio had more money than he could spend. He was sitting on a fortune in plants. Now that the war was over, demand far surpassed supply, and replanting had taken on a furious pace. There were seed beds dedicated to this task, and even though the coconut was indeed monoecious, as Greg had rudely reminded him, there were some advantages to controlled pollination and tissue culture. They multiplied quicker without using a large area, and varieties that were resistant to pest and disease were easily replicated.

The process was explained with due diligence, and paying attention to Greg, who spoke with such a charming accent, combining the three languages he used so easily, was distracting. In the middle of the lecture, Greg stopped. Smiling, he asked, “Are you listening?”

Embarrassed by his obvious lack of interest, John said, “Actually, I was, but more to the cadence of your voice than the content.”

“Why?”

“I love your accent.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Sure you do.”

“Is it funny?”

“No, it’s fascinating.”

“In what way?” Greg was at once amused and flattered.

“The whole foreign thing―it’s very sexy.”

Greg nudged his horse closer to John’s and leaned over, nuzzling the unshaven cheek. “I think your hearing is tainted by lust,” he whispered, “then again, so’s my eyesight. I never thought I’d be aroused by a red bush,” Greg teased, poking at John’s crotch.

John pulled back and made a face. “Is that all I am to you, the giant with the red hair?” Greg chortled, kicked his horse, and took off at a gallop.

***************

Mayon is now available at Dreamspinner Press, Amazon, and All Romance eBooks.  Click on the links on my side bar to access the site of your choice.

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New Release and Excerpt!

By
27
Jul 2012

Daddio is now available in paperback or e-book version. Three buy links on my side bar (Dreamspinner Press, Amazon, and All Romance ebooks) will take you directly to my author page.

Here’s an excerpt that’s not available anywhere else. It’s a conversation between Lil, Grier, Jody and Clark…

After realizing that Lil and Grier were also shopping, they had arranged to meet. Choosing to leave the crowds behind, they hooked up around six at The Snuggery, a sports bar located on Roselle Road in Schaumburg. Pulled- pork sliders, a platter of loaded fries, and a bucket filled with bottles of Coors Light were the popular pick. It was comfort food and much appreciated after the madness at the mall. “I hate Christmas,” Grier remarked. “It’s so damn stressful.”

“He hates forking over the plastic,” Lil quipped, shoving a slider in his mouth. “Oh, that is heavenly,” he sighed, licking the barbeque sauce off his lips.

“Don’t get Jody started on that subject,” Clark snapped. “I already got my lecture on excessive spending.”

Jody and Grier stared at each other. “Do you have to monitor his spending?” Jody asked, pointing at Lil. “Leave Clark to his own devices and he’ll buy out Dick’s Sporting Goods.”

“Nordstrom is Lil’s guilty pleasure,” Grier complained. Turning to his partner, he asked, “How can you justify spending one hundred and fifty dollars on a shirt when you can get the same thing at Penney’s for sixty-five?”

Lil rolled his eyes. “You can’t possibly compare a Façonnable shirt with a JCPenney brand.”

“Why? They look the same.”

“My love,” Lil said softly. “If you’re going to be a success in interior design, you have to set your sights a little higher and separate quality from quantity.”

“I can tell the difference between a badly made sofa and a good one,” Grier griped. “What do clothes have to do with ID?”

“It’s all in the fabric, sweetheart,” Lil said patiently. “Egyptian cotton is much better than a poly blend.”

“Whatever. Did you have to spend three hundred dollars on a cashmere pullover for Ali? He’s not worth it.”

Lil clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Your brother is into name brands and will appreciate the Armani.”

“And the Juicy Couture purse for Jillian? They’re going to think you’re trying to bribe them.”

“I am,” Lil admitted, unapologetically. “Money talks, and since they’re obviously not falling for my charms, waving a little green in their faces can’t be a bad thing.”

“Why do you need their approval?” Jody asked.

“So they don’t block us at every turn.”

“For instance?”

“Fang, for one.”

“Fang?” Clark asked.

“That’s what Luca’s calling his puppy.”

“Cool name.”

“You would find it cool,” Lil said saucily.

“Sheath thy tongue,” Jody frowned.

“What did I say?” Lil asked, surprised at Jody’s reaction.

“You’re being bitchy.”

“Sorry…didn’t mean to be.”

“No worries. Back to your in-laws,” Jody stated. “What’s the problem with Fang?”

“We were supposed to run it by them before we got a new pet.”

“He’s not even going to live in their house.”

“Precisely. It never occurred to us to ask their permission.”

“What else?”

“They don’t like Luca calling me Daddio.”

“Why? It’s so cute.”

“Jealousy,” Grier said. “My brother would prefer being called something other than uncle.”

“But he is his uncle,” Clark interjected. “Do you realize that if Jillian was to get pregnant, her kid would be Luca’s cousin and half-brother at the same time? How weird is that?”

“It’s like a country western song,” Grier mumbled. “Hopefully, she won’t get knocked up.”

“That would take some of the pressure off you and Luca, wouldn’t it?” Clark asked.

“How do you figure?”

“She’d have something else to obsess over.”

They all laughed, a little drunk, and a lot relaxed. “We sound like a bunch of gossiping queens,” Jody said, trying to catch a breath.

“We are,” Lil shrieked.

For some reason they found the remark hilarious and were leaning against each other in laughter. “Dude, no more beer or we’ll have to sleep in the motel next door,” Grier said, gasping for breath. Holiday Inn Express was right beside the bar, so that was an easy option.

“So we’ll sleep in a motel,” Lil remarked. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Order another round.”

“How many motels have you slept in?” Grier asked Lil, giving the waitress the signal for more.

“For work or play?”

“I don’t give a shit about work. How many quickies have you had in a motel?”

“Probably enough to circle the moon and back.”

“You slut,” Grier smiled.

“Guilty.”

“How about you, Jo?” Clark asked. “Were you a motel hopper?”

“Absofuckinglutely not.”

“Jody!” Lil remarked, “Your language has deteriorated drastically since you moved back to this town.”

“Like you don’t cuss?”

“He cussed plenty when he saw the first snowfall,” Grier tattled.

“Shush, love.” Lil said. “That was a momentary lapse.”

“Well, it worked. We’re moving to a house with a garage,” Grier admitted.

“No way,” Jody and Clark exclaimed.

“Way.”

“Where?”

“In Elk Grove for now,” Lil said.

“You guys should move out to Barrington.”

“Too rich for my pocket,” Grier remarked.

Lil gave him a look and Grier said, “Don’t start.”

“I’ll never understand why you have such issues accepting my largess.”

“Your large ass?”

“You bastard,” Lil said, smacking his lover on the arm. “My ass is perfect.”

Grier burst out laughing, and soon the others joined in, even Lil. They were making a scene, and everyone in the bar was glancing their way. “I really think we should take this next door.”

“What about my hot tub?” Jody pouted at his lover. “You promised.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Clark nodded, “But you guys come with us. We’ll take a cab and baptize the Jacuzzi.”

“Baptize?” Grier queried. “What did you have in mind?”

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Jody smirked, recognizing the look on Grier’s face. He’d seen it often enough whenever the brunet looked at Lil. Not for the first time, Jody thought about the early days of his relationship with Clark. He could remember having sex on every flat surface of his house in Berkeley. Lately, things had gotten a bit stale, and he supposed it had to do with time, familiarity, and their crazy schedules. Now that football season was officially over, and he’d taken a much-needed vacation to spend some quality time with Clark, he hoped to rekindle the spark. Maybe having Lil and Grier around would make the difference. He’d never been an exhibitionist, and didn’t think Clark was either, but they did need something to boost their libidos which seemed to be hibernating the past few months.

“I’m on it,” Clark said. Standing and walking over to the bartender, he asked them to call a cab, paid the bill, and came back looking like he’d just swallowed a canary. “It’s a done deal.”

“What about our cars?” Grier asked.

“Leave ‘em,” Clark said. “This isn’t the first time people have left their cars in the parking lot. We’ll come back for them tomorrow.”

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Vessel Excerpt

By
15
Oct 2011

Here’s an excerpt from my latest release, Vessel, which is now available for purchase. Buy sites are on my sidebar.

“You’ve given me a fucking migraine,” Cole accused. He toed off his shoes and laid down on the king-sized bed that was covered with another handmade quilt in varying shades of blue. Our room was meant to look like a ship’s cabin, and the accessories had a nautical theme. The lamps, antique brass miniatures of a lighthouse, were topped with pleated linen shades matching the striped curtains that framed the shuttered windows. Like the ones downstairs, the slats were wide open, letting in the sun and the warmth. As always, there were fresh flowers in the crystal vase on the bureau, adding the special touch that was a signature of Max Levitte’s hospitality.

“Would you like an Advil?” I offered, before throwing myself on the bed beside Cole.

“I’d like you to stop behaving like a prick.”

“What did I do?”

“Noriko doesn’t deserve your bullshit.”

“I’m not her best friend.”

“No one said you were, but you can be courteous, for heaven’s sake. She’s our guest and doesn’t need to be insulted. Getting to know her was the whole point of this weekend. How’s that happening if you keep blocking her at every turn? ”

“How did I block her?”

“I won’t even dignify your question with an answer.”

“Surely you weren’t expecting me to accept her with open arms.”

“Sloan, is this behavior going to continue until the babies are born?”

“I haven’t even decided if this is what I want. You’re assuming again.”

Cole straddled me and pinned my head between his arms. His long hair brushed my cheeks and invaded my mouth. “What do I have to do to convince you this is right for us?”

I blew a silky strand away before answering. “I’m not sure.”

“Sloan…”

Pushing him away, I scooted over to the edge of the bed and stood in front of the large window. There were already a number of sailboats bobbing in the harbor, and soon it would be overrun with the summer crowd and their usual WaveRunners and powerboats disturbing the serenity of this small village, much like Noriko was rocking my world. Cole sat up and crossed his legs, waiting in silent fury for me to justify my behavior. Finally, I turned toward him. “Just because you can do something doesn’t necessarily mean you should.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Cole lifted his head toward my voice, and his eyes narrowed in anger, as if he could see me clearly. The sightless orbs weren’t deformed or covered with any sort of film. They were intensely blue, surrounded by long dark lashes, and an arresting focal point on his attractive face. I loved him more than ever; despite the physical challenges we’d had to live with to get him through a day without mishap. I worried about him constantly but tried my best to give him a wide berth and never hover, coddle, or do anything for him unless he asked. He was extremely proud, almost obsessive about his independence, yet he was about to put himself in a situation that would undo years of training.

“I’m talking about bringing a third party into the mix. The world, as we know it, will change forever, Cole. Have you really thought this through?”

“I know it won’t be simple, but nothing worth having ever is. Our relationship and my career are a perfect example. The best things in my life have required hard work. Why would having a family be any different?”

He looked so confident but I knew how vulnerable he was. Cole was still learning to navigate his sightless life, and I didn’t want to hold him back, but I was a realist. Our peaceful existence would be upended by nannies, doctors, and doting grandparents. They would intrude on our privacy and make demands we couldn’t anticipate or plan for. Toys and baby paraphernalia would be left lying around in unexpected places, which could cause accidents Cole wouldn’t be able to deal with on his own. He’d trip or run into strollers and hurt himself, or worse yet, he’d hurt the kids. Freddie would have to learn how to deal with a bunch of strangers. Would he adjust? He was an excellent guide dog but had never trained with anyone other than Cole and me. Our living quarters had been structured carefully around Cole’s disability and this would change too. I knew I was being overly cautious and looking at worst-case scenarios, but it was better than being unrealistic and imagining life as a series of heartwarming vignettes.

I walked back to the bed and sat beside him. There was such a thin line between loving and smothering, and I’d struggled to find a happy medium. I meshed fingers with him and moved a little closer. “Even under the best of circumstances, having a child is a life-altering experience,” I explained. “In our case it will be even more significant because we’re going to relinquish control of the situation to complete strangers. There are a million things that could go wrong.”

“They won’t.”

“How can you be so sure? Noriko is an unknown entity. You’re so confident that her genes and her motives are pure. How do you know she’s not tainted? What if she carries an unexpected gene?”

“She’ll be tested for every possible genetic mutation,” Cole stated confidently.

“What if, during the middle of the pregnancy, she realizes what a cushy life she has as your wife and refuses to divorce you? What if she has a change of heart about giving up the kid or kids? Have you thought of any of that, Cole? Have you imagined life as a father on a day-to-day basis?” I tried to keep the panic out of my voice, but it was starting to grow and threatened to choke me.

“I’ve never had kids.”

“You have younger sisters and you’ve been around their children. Can you picture your space invaded in such a way?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Don’t you think you should?”

“Why are you being so negative?” Cole asked, suddenly angrier than I’d seen him since we started these discussions months ago. “You’re expecting the worst instead of being happy for me.”

I sighed and moved away from him. “As I said earlier, just because science has moved forward and given you an opportunity doesn’t necessarily mean it’s right for us. One can buy a ticket to the moon these days, but I can’t picture myself in a space suit. Being a parent is not easy, Cole, and not right for everyone. I’m sorry.”

“So that’s it? You’re sorry and this discussion is over?”

“I meant I’m sorry that I’m causing you more stress, but I won’t give in to appease you. This has to be right for me as well. After all, I’m going to bear the brunt of the care giving, aren’t I?”

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Taste Excerpt

By
28
Apr 2011

 

Here’s a little preview of my novel Taste, now available at Dreamspinner Press.  Taste is a spin-off of my novel Horizons and features several characters from that book along with some new ones.  Here is the direct buy link is here: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_76

The sun was beating down on Lil’s shoulders as they stood in line to get on the boat.  It was another scorcher of a day, with high humidity levels, but there was a slight breeze which made it somewhat tolerable.  He wasn’t used to this kind of weather, being from San Francisco, but he’d remembered the sunscreen and had applied the non-greasy SP 45 lotion liberally on his arms, the back of his neck, and his legs.  Jody had loaned him one of Clark’s baseball caps to protect his face and head.
 
Grier had shown up in another wife beater, a black one this time, with the words Vinita Ice Cream scrawled in neon green.  It had big circles in vivid primary colors simulating ice cream scoops splotched throughout.
 
“Your T-shirt is very attractive.”

“I designed it,” Grier said proudly.  “You like it?”

“As I said yesterday, what’s not to like?”

“I meant the T-shirt.”

“I know,” Lil smiled.  He couldn’t see Grier’s eyes behind the Oakleys, but the seductive tone of his voice was a pleasant indication that nothing had changed since yesterdays meet and greet.  “I thought you moved furniture?”

“Among other things.”

“I like a man of many talents,” Lil flirted.

“That’s me.  I’m a veritable jack-of-all-trades.”

The line started moving again, and when they got on the boat they were given a choice of sitting below, in the cabin, or up on top, exposed to the elements.  “Do you have a preference?” Grier asked.

“Even though the sun is deadly and will surely age me overnight, I’d rather sit up on the deck.”

“Good choice.” Grier steadied Lil with a hand on his lower back, guiding him up the narrow iron steps onto the open deck.  Their seats were toward the rear of the boat, and they conversed while they waited for the rest of the passengers to be seated.
 
“Tell me about Vinita Ice Cream,” Lil asked.  “Does it belong to the group of people you were with last night?”

“Yes.  The Garcias are friends, as well as neighbors, and my family helps them each year with the booth.”

“Who does the little boy belong to?”

“Luca is Jillian’s son.  She’s Jake’s twin.”

“Jake?”

“My best friend.”

“Oh, right.”

“I’ve known that family since I was four years old.”

“How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I just turned twenty-five.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“June eighteenth.”

“A Gemini!”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s a treat.  Geminis are wonderfully complex.”

“And here I thought I was just bipolar.”

Lil laughed out loud.  “A little duality, perhaps?”

“Something like that,” Grier said, smiling.  “What’s your sign?”

“Pisces.”

“I don’t know anything about astrology,” Grier admitted.

“They say that Pisces are the best lovers.”

“Is it truth or hype?”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” Lil stated frankly.

 “I like men with experience,” Grier said.
 
“Do you?” Lil took off Grier’s sunglasses for a minute so he could look into the dark eyes that were appraising him frankly.  “Then you’ve just won the jackpot. It’s one of the few advantages of being over thirty.”

“Are you thirty-one?”

Lil handed back the sunglasses but not before he traced Grier’s scruff with gentle fingers and brushed his lips against the luscious mouth in a soft kiss.  The brunet leaned into his touch, and Lil was pleased to see the spark of desire in the obsidian eyes before he hid them again behind the smoked glass.

“I’m thirty-seven and holding,” Lil whispered.
 
“Impossible.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“It’s the truth,” Grier insisted. “You don’t look your age.”

“I certainly hope not,” Lil said.  “Nonetheless, time marches on, and plastic surgeons get more affordable each day.”

“You’re not a candidate yet.”

 “You’re sweet,” Lil said, basking in the compliment.
 
“Tell me about Lyndon Lyle Lampert,” Grier asked.  “Do you have a partner?”

“Heavens no.”

“Don’t you believe in love?”

“I do, but I haven’t met the right guy yet, and I won’t settle.”

“Does he have to walk on water?”

Lil laughed.  “Not necessarily, but he’s got to make my heart flutter, my breath catch in my throat, my cock surge with interest, and not always in that order.  Two out of the three ingredients are a requirement.”

“I suppose I could always glamour you.”

“True Blood fan?”

“Vampire Diaries,” Grier admitted.  “My heart jumps around whenever the bad vamp shows up on the screen.”

“Damon is rather hot, isn’t he?  Makes you want to bare your neck willingly.”

“And other parts as well.”

“Slutty boy,” Lil teased.  “Do you have anyone special?”

“If I did I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

“Oh, you’re one of those good boys who believes in monogamy.”

“Don’t you?”

“I’ve never found anyone who’d make me even consider it.”

“That’s hard to understand.”

“We can’t all be Clark and Jody.”

“I wish I had a little bit of Clark in me.”

“Hon, you’re just as gorgeous, except he’s got the whole Viking God thing going, whereas you’re more Italian bad boy.”

“Shit,” Grier mumbled.  “I’m nothing like Clark.”

“In what sense?”

“He’s out and proud.”

“And you’re not?” Lil was very surprised considering Grier had no problem kissing him in public.

“I take that back,” Grier clarified.  “I’m out with everyone except my father.”

“And his approval means the most?”
 
“Yes.”

“What about your mother?”

“She passed away last year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I miss her a lot.” Grier looked out toward the horizon, and Lil could feel the melancholy that swamped the young man as memories surfaced. “Her biggest regret in dying so young was leaving me unsettled.”

Lil put his arm around Grier and drew him close.  “She was your friend.”

Grier nodded.

“Don’t think that Clark’s journey wasn’t difficult, Grier.  His father is a homophobic megalomaniac.  I can’t imagine your father being half as bad.”

“I read about Clark’s dad…he’s a little controlling.”

“A little is an understatement.”

“My dad is a good person, Lil.  He loves me, and my brother, and has worked very hard to provide a future for us.  Unfortunately, he doesn’t understand that my sexual orientation is nothing like his.  Mom and I were trying to figure out how to convince Dad to let me finish my schooling, but then she got sick.”
 
“You’re not done with college yet?”

“Two years of general ed courses is all I’ve accomplished so far.  When I asked to transfer to the Illinois Institute of Art, he had a fit.”

“Why?”

“Only queers go for design.”

“Give me a fucking break.  Hasn’t he heard of Frank Lloyd Wright?  He was one of the greatest architects who ever lived, and he was from the Midwest, for Pete’s sake, and from everything I’ve read about him, an absolute hound with women.”

“Lil, even if he’d heard of him, it wouldn’t make a difference.  All he wants is someone to take over Dilorio Trucking, but even Ali won’t touch it.”

“Who’s Ali?”

“My brother, Alissio.”

“You boys certainly have unusual names.”

“Lil isn’t that commonplace either.”

“Touché.”

“Why do they call you Lil?  I think I prefer Lyndon.”

“Oh, please, Lyndon makes me sound like an old fart.  When I was younger, and utterly outrageous, my friends started calling me Lillian. It got shortened through the years.”

“Lillian,” Grier frowned slightly.  “I don’t see it at all.”

“Enough talk about me, okay?” Lil said, embarrassed about bringing up ancient history.  Grier was only eight years old when Lil was prowling The Castro and earning that nickname.  He leaned into Grier and said, “Let’s postpone this conversation until after the tour, alright?”  The boat had finally filled up and was slowly moving away from the dock.

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Tono Released!

By
21
Jan 2011

Tono the sequel to Loving Edits is now available at Dreamspinner Press in either e-book or paperback format. You can find the link on my sidebar.

Here’s a short excerpt for your entertainment.

Paul picked up the mug and grimaced when he tasted the cold liquid. “Yuck.” He nuked it for about a minute, and when he turned back toward the counter, he saw that Tono was staring. The warmed coffee was good, but the tender look in Tono’s eye even better. Paul sighed in satisfaction.

“¿Esta bueno?” Tono asked.

“Yes, it’s perfect,” Paul said, not really referring to the coffee. He was basking in the look of love that was radiating from the Spaniard. “Tono, there’s been a new development, I’m not sure you’re aware of.”

“Is this why you’ve been trying to reach me?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Mick wrote another novel I knew nothing about.”

“I did.”

“You knew?”

“Si. I was aware that he was writing another story.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?”

“I never meddled in his writing. I read his manuscripts if and when he asked for my opinion. He never asked me to read this one. In fact, I didn’t realize he’d completed it.”

“Well, he did finish it, and he’s left me specific instructions.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem,” Paul explained,trying to rein in his impatience “is that he has certain stipulations we both have to agree with”

“Huh…”

“Yes. That’s what I said before I read the manuscript. It’s brilliant.”

“He was so talented,” Tono said proudly.

“That’s a given, Tono. Nonetheless, you may have issues with this book.”

“Why?”

“It’s a romance, a gay romance about three men in a relationship.”

“¿Que?”

“You heard me.”

“He wrote our story?” Tono’s voice rose in disbelief.

“He’s changed our names, the setting is completely different, and he’s made us years younger, so no one will link us to this novel.”

“Are you sure? I have to read it.”

“I figured you would, so I brought a copy of the manuscript. After you read it, I’ll need your signature on the contract, and then we can get started. This book will be huge.”

“Why do you need my signature?”

Paul sighed, now losing all patience. “Because you were his partner, you have his power of attorney, and nothing can move forward without your approval.”

“I see.”

“Look, he wrote you a letter. Let me go and get it.”

“What does it say?”

“I don’t know,” Paul blustered, “it’s addressed to you.”

“Oh, I thought you may have read it.”

“Give me some credit, will you? I don’t open letters unless they’re mine. Besides, I already know what he wants.”

“What’s that?”

“All proceeds from the book sales will go into a fund for artists suffering from ALS; a foundation, bearing his name, headed by you.”

“What? I don’t know anything about this.”

“Apparently no one did but our darling, Mick.”

“That’s impossible. He would have told me.”

Paul shrugged. “Maybe he ran out of time.”

“I don’t want to head anything. What do I know about foundations?”

“About as much as I do, which is nothing,” Paul admitted. “We’ll find qualified people to help us.”

“Why me?”

“Mick had his reasons, but unfortunately, he neglected to share them. Where were you when he was making all these plans? How could you not be aware of what he was doing?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Tono snarled, pissed off by Paul’s allegation that he knew nothing about Mick. “And what about you? You’re his fucking publisher. How come you didn’t know?”

“I don’t know, and now I never will. Nonetheless, here’s the bottom line: we’re sitting on Mick’s last novel, fighting over trivia, when we should be moving forward. Why don’t you just sign the papers, and we’ll get this over with.”

“I won’t sign anything until I’ve read my letter and the manuscript.”

“Christ. How long will it take you?”

“Oh, am I on the clock again? I’d forgotten what a time whore you are.”

“Fuck off.”

Tono chuckled. “You know you’re anal about time. Now where’s that letter?”

Paul sighed. “I’ll go and get it.” He had to fish it out of his briefcase, which he found on the sofa in the living room where he’d left it last night. When he got back to the kitchen, he was surprised to see that Tono had thrown on some running shorts, a T-shirt, and his athletic shoes.

“I’m going running, rubio.” Tono took the letter from Paul’s outstretched hand, folded it in half, and stuck it in his back pocket. “Make yourself at home.”

Paul stared in disbelief. “Hey, wait a minute.”

“I’ll be back,” Tono smiled and walked out the door, leaving a sputtering Paul standing in the middle of the kitchen. Regardless of the circumstances, his blondie was back, which made Tono ridiculously happy

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Excerpt-Bonds of Love

By
07
Aug 2010

Robin walked through the front door of his house to be greeted by the sight of Scott, naked and on his knees.

“Baby?”

“Welcome home, Master.”

Red’s brain clicked into Dom mode at the sight of his beautiful man on display. Everything about Scott’s body was a huge turn-on, but the most exciting thing about him was his willingness to do anything his Master wanted while they were in a scene. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“We’re alone and I thought I’d take advantage of the moment.”

“Where’s my mother?”

“With Susie. She’s taking her to see a movie.”

“The plot thickens,” Robin said in a low growl, moving toward Scott. “Did you plan this?”

Scott nodded. “I wanted some quality time with you without worrying about being overheard.”

“Love…”

“Make me fly, Master.”

Robin’s heart almost stopped beating when he heard those words, and his cock certainly appreciated the phrase. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this hard this quickly. “Come with me,” he said softly, stretching out a hand. Scott rose and allowed Robin to lead him down the stairs to their playroom.

The room was chilly, as most subterranean quarters were apt to be. Noting the goose bumps that had erupted all over Scott, Robin turned up the thermostat a notch to get some warm air flowing. He wasn’t sure if Scott’s body was reacting to the cold or anticipating the scene.

Robin stood in front of the bureau filled with toys, trying to decide what they were going to do tonight. He wanted to do away with pain for a change and concentrate on sensation play. Scott had mentioned an aversion to bondage when they’d first gotten together, but had never come right out and said he was vehemently against it. Robin wanted to push him tonight. He looked like he could use an intense scene; they both could. It had been far too long.

For starters, he was going to deprive Scott of sight and sound. He pulled out a black silk scarf and a box filled with foam rubber earplugs. A ball gag would complete the picture. He turned and heard Scott gasp when he saw what he was holding. “Are you okay with this, love?”

“Yes, Master,” Scott answered quickly. He appeared intimidated by the sight of the ball gag, but since he’d never indicated any hard limits, Robin felt free to use it.

“Get on the lacing table,” Robin ordered.

Scott headed toward the narrow table with a row of eyehooks affixed on both sides. He sat in the middle, in between the hooks, and he laid back, waiting for Robin’s next order.

“I’m going to deprive you of everything tonight, love. No sound, no sight, no movement. You think you can handle that for me?” Robin asked in a softly modulated voice.

“Yes, Sir,” Scott responded quickly.

“While I have you restrained, I will do everything in my power to make you come, but you mustn’t until I give you the okay. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Is there anything you want to say before I place this gag?”

“How will I safe word if I can’t talk?” Scott asked.

Robin knew his boy was more than a little anxious. The physical signs were pretty obvious. His cheeks were flushed and there were tiny drops of perspiration dotting his hairline. Scott wasn’t a gagger, nor was he averse to being restrained. However, this was the first time he would experience complete deprivation at the hands of his Master and it was Robin’s obligation to make sure that Scott felt safe.

Robin stepped forward and kissed Scott, lingering for a few minutes before he placed a tiny bell in Scott’s hand, the type you’d find attached to a bike handle. “Ring this if you want me to stop.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’m going to be right here the entire time. Never forget that.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Would you like a sip of water before we begin?”

“Yes, please.”

Robin handed over the bottle of water he’d pulled out of the mini fridge and watched Scott take large gulps. He devoured him with his hungry gaze, taking in every part of his beautiful submissive, starting with the blond hair that fell in a soft sheet over his forehead. Scott’s lips were pink and full as they wrapped around the mouth of the bottle and Robin’s cock rose in anticipation of having the same rosy red lips servicing him later in the scene. Scott tilted his head, stretching his throat to the limit, and his Adam’s apple bobbed while the liquid slid down. Robin couldn’t wait to mark Scott by sucking up the soft skin and leaving his imprint for days. He held back even though his cock now pressed tightly against his jeans. Finally, Scott had his fill and handed the bottle back. Robin couldn’t stop himself from kissing him again. He was far too enticing to resist, so he latched on and loved him with his mouth, enjoying the sweetness as Scott met his aggressive tongue with his own. There was no dueling for control tonight, Scott opened up to him, giving himself over without hesitation and Robin moaned in appreciation.

He settled Scott on the table and positioned the ball gag, tying the ends behind his head. “You comfortable, love?” he asked. Scott’s green eyes flashed in panic for one second but quickly eased when Robin said, “I’m here for you, love. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Scott nodded and began breathing through his nose instead of his mouth so he wouldn’t gag. He continued to gaze at his Master, but his eyes no longer darted back and forth. He looked at Robin steadily with love that practically oozed out in heart-shaped droplets, radiating trust. His chest rose and fell in a slow and easy rhythm responding to Robin’s voice. Robin took the black scarf and blindfolded Scott, covering the emerald eyes for the moment. Robin left the earplugs for last. He began to tie Scott with the silk rope, crisscrossing over his upper body, passing through each eyehook until Scott was immobilized. “Can you move your hand?” Robin asked, solicitous of Scott’s comfort. “Ring the bell for me, baby.”

Scott rang it twice. Robin was pretty sure that Scott was comforted by the sound of the bell; he had a death grip on it, knowing it was his lifesaver.

Robin looked at his handiwork dispassionately, making sure that nothing was pinched. He’d purposely left Scott’s cock free of the rope, and it lay thick and heavy against his stomach, enticing Robin as moisture escaped from its slit, a testament to Scott’s comfort level and arousal. He bent down and sucked up the salty liquid, reveling in his boy’s taste. Scott groaned and attempted to lift his hip, but he was unsuccessful. “Relax, baby.” Robin crooned, caressing Scott’s face and licking his ear, teasing him with his soft, warm tongue. “Just breathe, nice and easy.”

Robin removed the earplugs and hesitated, unsure if he wanted to completely deprive Scott. Part of his appeal as a Dom was his voice. Scott responded on a primal level, and he hated to withhold that one source of comfort, so he decided not to take away his hearing this time. Perhaps another day, after tonight’s experience, Scott might be more relaxed being completely sensory deprived.

“I’m not going to use the earplugs, baby. Ring twice so I know you’re okay with this decision.”

The noise jarred but Robin could tell that Scott was relieved. He sighed, and his limbs sort of melted onto the table, losing some of the tension that had seemed to grip him while he anticipated the earplugs.

“I’m going to start our session with a little electric play, so expect some tingling in the next minute or so. Nod if you understand,” Robin watched as Scott’s head bobbed up and down. “Good.” He walked back over to the bureau, shucking his clothes on the way. His T-shirt was pulled off and tossed. Next, he toed off his sneakers and kicked them across the room, stopping to hop around on one leg and then the other as he peeled off his jeans and underwear. Finally, when he was completely naked, he grabbed the box with the TENS unit and moved back to Scott.

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Loving Edits Excerpt

By
17
Jul 2010

This first excerpt is from my novel Loving Edits which released June 14 and is now available in either ebook or paperback format at www.dreamspinnerpress.com It’s a m/m/m romance about three men who celebrate the joys and sorrow of true love while exploring the human spirit. Here’s a preview of a scene where Mick meets Tono for the first time.

Mick had been at the bar Vergara with one hand wrapped around a wine glass and the other reaching for a pintxo, when he looked up as Tono walked in with a few friends. The attraction was instant and powerful; Tono had ventured forward to flirt with the dazzling man whose stunning eyes drew him like twin magnets.

When he realized that Mick wasn’t Spanish, he tripped over the English words but managed to communicate his interest. He’d been delighted to find out that Mick was the famous American author rumored to be in the area. Tono had read Mick’s bestseller because he was an avid reader, and the book had been marketed heavily in Europe. He’d enjoyed it immensely and couldn’t believe his good fortune in finding out that Mick was not only gorgeous, he was gay, and, more importantly, attracted to him as well.

He’d had the distinct pleasure of introducing the American to his first Jai alai game. Mick was quickly engaged by the ambiance of the fronton, which seethed with people in a highly charged competitive atmosphere. Bookies darted back and forth, with wads of cash in their hands, collecting bets, or paying the winners. The crowd knew each pelotari and shouted out words of encouragement to their favorites to spur them on, hooting when they bested their opponent, or booing loudly when they dropped a ball. The players were dressed in white trousers with colored sashes around their waist, instead of belts, and numbers were embroidered on their shirts to identify them. The loud thwack the ball made when it hit the concrete was an audible reminder of the strength and stamina each man needed to hurl it back and forth with lightning speed. Tono was the best looking and the fastest man on the court. His fans were loudly supportive and screamed each time he scored. The sport was different, exciting, and the enthusiasm of the audience contagious; it was an adrenalin rush Mick had never experienced before.

Tono had shown off that night, and the payoff was huge, not only financially, but in the look of wonder and respect that lit up Mick’s face as soon as they got together after the game. It was the first night they had sex; a sweet joining of bodies that went beyond the ordinary mechanics. The slow exploration awakened feelings Mick had left behind with Paul, surprising them both with a love connection neither man had expected.

Mick and Tono became inseparable, finding so much more in common than sex. They shared a love of adventure, travel, history, and most surprisingly, poetry. They spent hours in bed reading poems and making love, only leaving the comfort of their room to take long walks along the Paseo de Zurriola, the path near the cliffs of San Sebastian, overlooking the magnificent harbor. Although Mick had shared much with Paul, their literary tastes were very different. Tono was a romantic like him, believing in love and happy endings. He leaned toward books that had the potential for a good outcome, something Paul shied away from.

They’d traveled to small villages that dotted the coast. Fishing continued to be a large part of Basque industry, and the variety of marine life, abundant in the waters surrounding the area, had been a source of income for generations. Tono’s father and uncles who were fishermen, and one of them owned an anchovy-canning factory. He’d given Mick the grand tour of the fetid building, insisting that fresh anchovy bested canned any day. Mick had to acknowledge that he’d never tasted anything quite as good as the tiny, but very salty green fish, and he’d come to love the flavor. He watched Tono the first time, placing a spoonful of fresh, olive oil-infused tuna on a slice of French bread, topping it with three fresh anchovies garnished with a spicy green pepper. Mick had become addicted to this delicacy; in fact, he’d become quite the connoisseur when it came to pintxos, also known as tapas, the amazing finger food served in varying ways in the north of Spain. Undoubtedly, they were all over the country, but the bars receiving the highest Michelin ratings were in San Sebastian.

Tono Garat, Mick had learned, was the Michael Jordan of his sport. They were followed around by young boys wanting an autograph and hoping to learn a thing or two by being in Tono’s shadow. Regardless of which town they had visited, Tono was a celebrity, and soon, Mick became as well known― the gringo writer who dazzled everyone with his welcoming smile.

One of the places they had visited was Guernica, the historical town founded in the fourteenth century, proud symbol of Basque freedom. Tono tried to explain his people, and their fierce need to remain autonomous, and independent of any ruling body but their own, sometimes carrying this need to the extreme. Tono manifested this same spirit, proving on many different occasions that he was his own person, and never intimidated by others. Even his love for poetry was a source of pride, not shame, and he would stare down anyone who had the audacity to think any less of him because of his romantic tendencies. He didn’t flaunt his sexual orientation, in deference to his parents’ and his fans’ sensibilities, but he wouldn’t have lied if asked pointblank. Still, he chose to remain in the closet and the few friends who wer aware of the truth didn’t discuss it; he was a local celebrity, rewarded with respect and privacy.

Mick had been intent on tasting, smelling, and hearing everything that Spain had to offer. Tono had learned to love his country all over again, seeing it with fresh eyes; the sights and sounds he’d taken for granted were revisited. Every food group was explored, starting with the staple, tortilla de patata, the potato omelet found in every bar in the country, to the odd-looking, almost prehistoric, percebes, the shellfish with long bodies resembling goosenecks and a foot at the bottom used to attach themselves to rocks. They were exceedingly fishy, an acquired taste both men found repugnant. The music, the flamenco dancers, the bullfights, the wine, and the museums were so much a part of their daily repertoire, it was a wonder Mick had found any time to write at all. But he did, every morning for a few hours, while Tono slept.

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