Showing posts with label Valentines 2017. Show all posts

Happy Valentine's Day! A Valentine's Short - RJ Scott

Happy Valentine's Day! 

Today's Valentine's special is a short featuring Manny and Josh from Full Circle (Sanctuary #5).


“What are you doing for Valentine’s day?” Kayden asked.

He kicked and bounced on the spot; the rope holding him steady flexed with the movement.

“Stop doing that!” Manny snapped. “You're freaking me out.”

Kayden looked at him and then deliberately bounced a few more times. Manny closed his eyes. It wasn’t like he was scared of heights—that wasn’t the issue at all. He’d done worse than abseil off the top of a forty-story skyscraper high above Manhattan.

Nope, it wasn’t the heights. It was the waiting. Oh, and the fact that Kayden seemed to have the devil in him and couldn’t stay still. He’d already walked a few feet away and then free-swung back to the starting point. He’d bounced, flailed, and generally destroyed Manny’s concentration for the last ten minutes.

That shit’s getting old.

Kayden persisted. “So what are you doing for Josh for Valentine’s?”

“You first,” Manny said.

“Me?” Kayden blinked innocently. “I’m not doing anything for Josh. He’s not my boyfriend, Beckett is my boyfriend.”

Manny didn’t even give him the courtesy of a reply to that one. In fact, he didn’t say a word, but finally, as Manny knew he would, Kayden broke the silence.

“I got Beckett an iPad—” Manny didn’t think that was incredibly inspired, but he didn’t say so. Kayden continued. “—and I recorded this message.” Kayden bounced a few more times on the window glass. “It will play when he turns it on.”

“Look at little Kayden, all grown up and romantic,” Manny teased.

“Fuck off.” Kayden pulled his beanie lower over his face. The wind forty stories up was a force to be reckoned with, but they were sheltered from it at the moment; didn’t stop the cold, though. New York in February was colder than a witch’s tit.

Kayden wasn’t letting this rest. “So, what are you doing for Josh?”

Manny hadn’t told anyone about the gift he had for Josh. The same gift that had been burning a hole in his pocket at Christmas and New Year’s, and now at Valentine’s. The sturdy platinum ring was always with him; even now he had it on a chain hidden beneath his thermals, just in case something happened.

He wanted Josh to know, even if he died, that Manny had loved him, that he’d always meant one day to ask Josh to marry him.

Movement on the other side of the glass—Nik there in a tux, with a glass cutter, and Manny tensed in preparation.

“Show time,” Kayden said, and he immediately went from bouncing and annoying to utterly focused. The glass gave way and Kayden was in first, Manny next.

“Ten minutes,” Nik said, straightening his bow tie and then nodding. He left and pulled the office door shut behind him.

Manny did a three-sixty. “Now where would I be if I were plans for a nuclear device?” he mused.

Kayden smacked him upside the head. “Floor safe, moron.”

Manny narrowed his eyes at his friend. “I was joking.”




Josh pulled two beers from the fridge, handing one to Manny and then taking his own bottle to the couch. Dinner had been wonderful, at a family-owned, tiny Italian restaurant. The lighting was low, the food perfect, the wine just the right one to go with their meal.

Josh had waxed lyrical over all of it.

Manny didn’t taste a single thing. All he could do was stare at Josh, at his beautiful green eyes, at the way his dark hair fell over his forehead.

“Are you okay?” Josh asked, settling down next to Manny on the sofa. “You’re very quiet.” His voice sounded odd, as though he wasn’t sure whether he should ask that, or maybe he was apprehensive to hear the answer.

“Just thinking,” Manny said, feeling the tension radiating from Josh at that answer—which, he had to be honest, was a non-answer that explained absolutely nothing.

“About us?” Josh shifted a little so that there was space between them and then turned to look at Manny.

“Yes,” Manny said, “about me and you and everything here.” He gestured to their loft.

They’d only just moved in. Hell, it had only recently become safe for them to be back in the States, back in Albany. They had the sofa and a huge TV, a bed with bedding that Josh had picked out, in a strong, solid blue with matching drapes. There were towels in the bathroom, Josh’s favorite beer in the fridge, and Manny’s gun safe installed with codes only he and Josh knew. Josh was making this a home, and Manny loved coming home to the new thing that Josh had done. Yesterday he’d found him covered in pale blue paint from where he’d created a feature wall in their bedroom. They’d ended up sleeping on the sofa for the night because the bedroom stank of paint, but that didn’t matter.

Life was good.

“I thought—” Josh began, then stopped and placed the beer on the table, turning back to Manny and looking so damned earnest. “I thought we were happy here. Did I do something? Am I too… I don’t know, needy or something? Pushy? I know I should have discussed the paint with you. I didn’t mean to—”

Manny cut him off, kissing him thoroughly until Josh was pliant in his arms and they were both seconds from taking it into the bedroom. Or the kitchen. Or maybe right there on the sofa.

“I love that you are making this a home for us,” Manny said. “I wish I were here more.”

Josh seemed happy with that, snuggled into Manny’s side, and sighed. “Do you miss the cabin in Canada?” he asked softly.

Manny didn’t have to think about the answer. “I do.”

Josh sighed again. “Seemed like we had all the time in the world there.”

“Yeah, it seemed that way.”

And that was the problem. Manny missed the cabin as well. He missed being there with Josh 24/7. He loved his job, but he loved Josh more. He didn’t miss the fact that they'd been isolated, or cut off from the business end of Sanctuary, but hell, he missed the alone time he'd had with Josh. Could they be happy together in this new place when life got in their way? Two nights ago he’d been recovering stolen flash drives after dangling on the side of a skyscraper. What if he got hurt? What if this was the best they had?

Am I selfish to want more?

They sat in silence a while longer.

“You want to go to bed?” Josh kissed the side of Manny’s neck, working his way up until their lips connected.

So sweet. So damn sexy and hot and sweet and so freaking perfect.

And suddenly, Manny had enough. He shoved at Josh, who slid back and away with surprise and hurt on his face.

“Manny? What’s wrong?”

Manny scrambled up off the sofa and slid to his knees, looking up at Josh. “This is so selfish….” He heard his voice crack, his chest so tight it was hard to breathe. “I know I do stupid things. I know I put others who need me before us, and I’m sorry, okay.”

That wasn’t a question but a statement from the heart.

Josh’s wide-eyed shock subsided, and in its place was a kind of grief. “I understand if you don’t want—”

“No, you don’t get it. I’m fucking this all up,” he added. Why were the words so damn hard to say?

“I get it.” Josh made to stand up.

Manny stopped him, and abruptly the words were there. He scrambled for the chain around his neck, pulling it up and over his head and unclasping it, sliding off the two rings. One for himself, one for Josh.

“Marry me,” he said and held out Josh’s ring. “Inside, it says forever, and I want that with you. And I know what I do is sometimes dangerous, but I’m good at it, and I can spend more time—”

Now it was Josh’s turn to interrupt Manny, and he placed a hand very firmly over Manny’s mouth. “Yes,” he said.

“Yes?”

“One hundred percent yes.”

Then somehow Josh was on the floor with him and they were kissing and promising all kinds of things for the future.

“I love you,” Manny said. “Always.”

Josh kissed him and laughed. “Forever.”

And they lived happily ever after.

Despite Manny nearly doing jail time after the next mission with Kayden.
Kayden swore he didn’t bounce on the glass of Trump Tower that much, and anyway, it was all Nik’s fault for the extra time he’d spent setting the booby trap in the office desk. It made Nik late and gave Kayden way too much time for bouncing out into the night and back against the glass.

Manny still isn’t talking to either of them.

The End.


You can pick up a free copy of Guarding Morgan (Sanctuary #1) here.

For your chance to win either 3 backlist titles or  ARC of Ghost (Sanctuary #9) leave a comment.


The Book

Manny Sullivan is the backbone of Sanctuary, and involved in every mission. After rescuing Josh Headley, his skill helps Sanctuary to solve the Bullen case. When Manny risks his life could it be time for Josh to risk his heart?

Manny Sullivan has his fingers in every pie and when he spots Josh Headley where he shouldn't be, it is Manny who goes in and rescues him.

Josh is in Sanctuary witness protection after his dad turns on the Bullens. Not only is his dad a murderer but his ex is a liar who was using him for information. With his skill in information retrieval, he hopes to make a contribution to the solution.

What started with the death of Elisabeth Costain is drawing to a close and Josh and Manny are in the middle of it all.

When Manny risks his life could it finally be time for Josh to risk his heart?

Read more »
Labels: , , ,

Be My Valentine - Alex Jane


Be My Valentine - Featuring characters from The Alpha's Homestead Series

Caleb didn't notice anything was amiss when he entered the cabin. He was too fixed on stripping off the heavy coat that had been keeping the icy wind from freezing his bones. The homey smell of venison stew and dumplings meant he couldn't get the thing off quick enough as he growled under his breath about how he wished spring would hurry. They hadn't had snow in a couple of weeks but the temperature was so low everything was frozen and covered in a layer of ice. Including himself.

When he was finally free of the coat and it was hung up to dry, only then did Caleb realize that things weren't as normal as he'd first perceived. The children were all sat around the table as Jacob served each with a bowl of stew, but Ephraim had his fist pressed against his mouth, trying not to laugh, while Martha glared at him. Thaddeus was sat stock still, not his usual squirming self. Even Jacob smiled slyly at him as he walked past to fetch their dishes from the kitchen.

Caleb didn't say anything. He narrowed his eyes at his mate but that just made Jacob smile even wider and shrug his shoulders. It was only when Caleb walked around to his chair at the far end of the table that he saw what all the fuss was about.

Lowering himself down to sit, the chair creaking under the sudden and considerable weight, he adjusted the cutlery laid out before him and tilted his head at the white envelope leaning up against his cup of water. "Well," he said and cleared his throat, "what do we have here?"

The deadly silence filling the cabin was only marred by the sound of the wind outside and Ephraim trying to chuckle without being heard, which ended when Martha kicked him under the table. Ephraim covered his pain with a cough, then said with surprising conviction, "It arrived for you today, Papa. Just showed up on your desk."

Caleb shot him a look of gratitude and sighed dramatically. "Whoever delivered it must have been awful stealthy to get in the house without any of us noticing." He picked up the envelope and turned it around in his hands. It was small and somewhat creased at the edges like someone had held it a little too tightly. And on the front, in red Franklin crayon, was scrawled the word, Papa.

Jacob appeared at Caleb's shoulder, waiting until Caleb raised his arms before sliding a plate of food in front of him and then taking his place at the opposite end of the table. "I was a bit concerned about that myself." He sounded casual but there was a hint of humor in his voice that made Caleb want to smile. Jacob picked up his spoon and leaned over the table to cut up the dumpling on Thaddeus's plate. "But then Tad and I talked it over and we figured they wouldn't try it twice. Isn't that right, Tad?"

Thaddeus was a statue and, with all eyes suddenly on him, could only manage a single nod, doing everything he could to not look in Caleb's direction. Caleb couldn't ever think of a time when Thaddeus had been so still. Even in his sleep the pup kicked and fussed and wriggled, as the bruises on Jacob and himself could attest. Everyone else seemed to be finding Thaddeus's sudden quiet amusing, but it made Caleb want to gather the boy up and never let go.

Figuring that it would be better for everyone to put the little one out of his misery, Caleb sighed and used his butter knife to rip open the envelope. "Well, best see who it's from."

The card was fancy. There was lace around the edge and what looked like real feathers, dyed into bright colors stuck onto it too. And in the center, a picture of a full-cheeked Cupid, with a cascade of blonde locks holding up a banner adorned with writing.

Caleb cleared his throat. "I adore you. Be my Valentine."

Ephraim couldn't keep the laugh contained any longer but he did his best to disguise it as a coughing fit. Jacob played along, slapping him heartily on the back but that didn't stop Thaddeus from quietly slipping from his seat and sidling up to Jacob's chair.

Jacob scooped the boy up, letting him seek solace against his chest and holding him tightly. "What a nice inscription. Who is it from?" He sounded sincere but when Caleb glanced up at him, Jacob's eyes were worried.

Caleb turned the card over. What he found was familiar. Jacob's carefully penciled print with Thaddeus's haphazard lines trying to trace over the top in the same red crayon. The one that Thaddeus only used on very special occasions.

"From a secret admirer." Caleb felt a knot form in his throat and had to swallow hard to push it away. "It seems my Valentine wants to remain anonymous."

The room was very still for a minute. Caleb couldn't tear his eyes away from the words. Thaddeus's attention span was like a grasshopper, pinging from one thing to the next without warning, but it was clear that he had sat and worked very hard to follow Jacob's instruction and write out the words himself. But the small boy seemed mortified, curled into Jacob's embrace, his breath shuddering and verging on tears.

That was until Martha said, matter-of-factly, "I bet it's from Mrs. Leyland," before taking a slurp of stew from her spoon.

Ephraim barked out a laugh. "Not on your life. I think there more chance it's from Reverend Peter!"

Martha shook her head. "Are you simple? No, Mrs. Leyland, for sure."

The bickering had the desired effect and Thaddeus gradually unfurled his grip on Jacob's shirt, watching the exchange continue with wide eyes and an ever-widening smile as he figured that maybe he hadn't been found out after all. That was until Caleb tilted his head and mused quietly, "What about Jack Carter?"

Jacob's mouth dropped open and he raised his eyebrows. "The architect?"

Caleb shrugged and carefully propped the card back against his mug. "I don't see why not. He certainly seemed very friendly."

With that, Thaddeus growled and scrambled down from Jacob's lap, pounded around the table and launched himself against Caleb's side. Caleb smiled and hoisted the boy up, saying, "Well, whoever my Valentine is, I think they have excellent taste in cards."

Thaddeus knelt in Caleb's lap and grasped Caleb's face with both hands. Thaddeus pushed his face close and whispered, "You like the van'tine, Papa?"

Caleb whispered back, "I think it's beautiful, Thaddeus." He kissed the beaming boy on the cheek, and then slapped him gently on the behind. "But I think we should sit in our own chairs and eat our dinner before it gets cold."

*******

"So. The architect, huh?"

It had taken a while to settle Thaddeus down, but Jacob descended the stairs with a smile on his face, and a tease in his not-so-serious question. Caleb shrugged and replaced the Valentine in its spot on the mantel. He turned and leaned his shoulders against the beam, crossing his feet at the ankle. "Are you denying that the man was handsome?"

Jacob laughed. "Definitely not. It's just that I met his delicate wife and can say with certainty that you're not his type."

Caleb shrugged again, then pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Was that your idea?"

Jacob shook his head and slumped down into the rocking chair. "Nope. That was all Tad. Ephraim bought a card with his allowance, and once I explained what they were for, of course, he had to get you one."

Caleb frowned. "And who was Ephraim buying a Valentine for?"

"He didn't say. And no, I didn't ask. I figure he'll tell us when he’s ready."

Caleb pushed himself away from the fire, taking the scant few steps to Jacob slowly, then lowered himself to settle between Jacob's feet. "Is—Is this something we should do now? Give cards and favors? Because it didn't even cross my mind. I'm sorry."

Jacob smiled, languidly reaching his hand out to scratch his fingers through Caleb's graying beard. "You have my heart every day, Mr. Fletcher. If I need a card to tell you that, then I'm doing something wrong."

Caleb raised himself up, and leaned forward, laying his body against Jacob's until their lips met. "I adore you," Caleb whispered, then kissed his mate, relishing the feeling of their bodies stirring against each other even after all those years.

Jacob smiled against Caleb's lips. "In that case, I think you should take me to bed and show me just how much."

As a token of my love and affection, I’m happy to giveaway ebooks of Home Is Where You Are to the first five readers to email me – contact@alexjane.info

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK

The Book

By the winter of 1870, Caleb Fletcher has carved out a sheltered existence for himself in a simple cabin, outside a small town in the backwaters of Nebraska, resigned to living out his days as a solitary wolf. But his quiet life is interrupted when another werewolf lands on his doorstep on the eve of a snowstorm, brutalized almost beyond repair, with nowhere else to turn.

When Caleb reluctantly welcomes Jacob into his cabin, and eventually his bed, it forces him to face up to the traumas he’s been running from; the shame that made him leave his pack behind, and the horrors of war he endured.

As the weeks pass, it seems that Jacob’s arrival might not be the coincidence it first appeared. Jacob has an agenda. One that involves Caleb. And if Caleb agrees to it – if he can let go of his past and his prejudices – it will change Caleb’s whole world. Maybe even for the better.

Without a mate – a family, a pack – a wolf has no home.
But what if home finds you?

Author Bio

After spending far too long creating stories in her head, Alex finally plucked up the courage to write them down and realized it was quite fun seeing them on the page after all. Free from aspirations of literary greatness, Alex simply hopes to entertain by spinning a good yarn of love and life, wrapped up with a happy ending. Although, if her characters have to go through Hell to get there, she’s a-okay with that.
With only a dysfunctional taste in music and a one-eyed dog to otherwise fill her days, Alex writes and walks on the South Coast of England—even when her heart and spellcheck are in New York.

www.alexjane.info
www.facebook.com
www.twitter.com
www.instagram.com
www.goodreads.com
www.amazon.com

Read more »
Labels: ,

A Dex and Sloane (Thirds Series) Valentine's Day Special - Charlie Cochet

A Dex and Sloane Valentine's Day Special

Where could he be?

Sloane stepped into the canteen, and looked around. Where had his boyfriend gotten to? It was always worrisome when Dex went missing. Who knew what mischief he’d get up to. Actually, Sloane knew. He’d witnessed plenty of instances where an unsupervised Dex resulted in chaos. It was especially worrisome when Dex was being secretive.

Did Dex really think Sloane hadn’t noticed him take Sloane’s keys that morning and sneak off to his car? He’d put something in the trunk, then when they’d arrived at work, he told Sloane he’d meet him upstairs. Sloane had changed into his uniform, and when he reached their office, still no Dex.

Spotting Cael and Rosa sipping hot drinks at one of the tables, Sloane headed over. “Hey, any of you seen or heard from Dex? I’ve been tried calling him on his com, but he’s not answering.”

Rosa looked thoughtful. “The last I saw him, he was with Hudson. I went to Hudson’s office to ask him about some supplies, and Dex was there.” She looked to Cael. “Have you seen him today?”

“About an hour ago when I went down to Unit Beta to follow up on some intel. He was by the canteen.”

Why the hell was Dex is Unit Beta? Whatever he was doing, Sloane hoped poor Zach wasn’t involved.

“Thanks, guy.” Sloane headed back to Unit Alpha. On the way to his office, he was stopped by Letty.

“Hey, Sloane. Dex had been looking for you.”

Sloane threw his hands up. “For crying out loud. Where is he?”

Letty looked around. “He was here a second ago. Maybe he went back to your office.”

“Thanks.” If Dex wasn’t there, Sloane was just going to wait for him. He was getting tired of running around HQ. Why was Dex being so damn secretive? He walked into his office and figured he’d had his answer.

A large white foamboard poster was propped against his desk. It was a Valentine’s Day letter from Dex. They had plans tonight which included dinner, a movie, and a gift exchange. Sloane was looking forward to it. He hadn’t expecting Dex to do anything for him at work. It was incredibly sweet.

Reading it, Sloane couldn’t help his big smile or the way his heart did a little flip. That big dope. His boyfriend was just adorable. His earpiece beeped, and he answered.

“Brodie.”

“Did you get my present?” Dex asked, sounding excited.

Sloane chuckled as he took a seat behind his desk, and turned the letter toward him. “I did. I’m looking at it now. Though I gotta say, I’m not very good at Mad Libs.”

“Why would you need to be good at Mad Libs?”

“Because there’s a bunch of blank spaces where certain words should be.”

The colorful swear words that followed told Sloane those blank spaces shouldn’t be blank.

“I’m on my way,” Dex grumbled.

Several minutes later, the commotion outside his office drew Sloane’s attention, and he headed out into the bullpen to find Dex glaring accusingly at his fellow agents.

“All right, which one of you candy-bar-thieving jerkfaces is responsible for ruining my Valentine’s Day card?”

Candy bars. That made so much more sense now. Aw, Dex had made him a candy gram.

Just as he’d said the words, Ash walked by eating a Lion Bar. The irony was not lost on Sloane. Dex let out a gasp.

“You thief!”

Uh-oh. Dex lunged at Ash, and Sloane caught him before his screeching little spider monkey could crawl all over Ash to disembowel him, or at least attempt to.

“That was part of my boyfriend’s candy gram!”

Ash looked from Dex to Sloane to his candy bar before shrugging, taking another bite, and walking off. Sloane held on tight.

“Come back here, you—”

A candy bar wrapped crinkled behind them and they turned to find Hobbs tearing through a wrapper. When he realized Dex was staring at him, his eyes widened.

“Where did you get that?” Dex asked, thrusting a finger at Hobbs’s chocolate bar.

Hobbs motioned to his hair and made spikes then put his hand to his heart.

“That thieving little pineapple!”

Sloane let out a bark of laughter before he could stop himself. Dex stopped trying to get away from him and pouted.

“They ate your card, Sloane.” He pointed to their office, and Sloane followed him in. Dex fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and scrolled through his photos. “It was perfect.” He held the phone out to Sloane.



“Aw, baby, it was perfect. Thank you.” Sloane pulled Dex into his arms, and kissed him, smiling against Dex’s lips when Dex melted against him. “I promise it’s not ruined. You’re sweeter than any candy bar.” He nibbled on Dex’s ear. “I can’t wait to taste you tonight.”

Dex hugged him tight. “Happy Valentine’s day, babe.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

For your chance to win a $15 Amazon Gift Card leave a comment below.


The Book

In a matter of days, Dex has been kidnapped, tortured, killed, revived, become half-Therian, offered the chance to become a spy, and accepted a proposal to marry his jaguar Therian boyfriend, Sloane Brodie. It’s been a lot to take in, and although Dex is still trying to wrap his head around everything that’s happened, he knows he has to move forward. After the events of Smoke & Mirrors, Dex and Sloane find themselves in one of the most frightening situations of all: revealing the truth to their Destructive Delta family. When the dust settles, nothing will ever be the same, and it’s up to Dex to prove that in the face of change, the one thing that will always remain the same is family.









Author Bio

Charlie Cochet is an author by day and artist by night. Always quick to succumb to the whispers of her wayward muse, no star is out of reach when following her passion. From adventurous agents and sexy shifters, to society gentlemen and hardboiled detectives, there’s bound to be plenty of mischief for her heroes to find themselves in, and plenty of romance, too!

Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found reading, drawing, or watching movies. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.

Website | THIRDS HQ | Facebook | Facebook Author Page | Twitter | Pinterest | Tumblr | Instagram | Newsletter | DSP |Amazon |Goodreads


Read more »
Labels: ,

Valentine's Short - Eli Easton


This short features Toby and Sean from “Merry Christmas, Mr. Miggles”

“There you go, Mrs. Rosenberry! Happy Valentine’s Day.” I placed Mrs. Rosenberry’s books in her fabric bag and slid them over the counter.

Despite being in her 70s, she was apparently feeling the sentiments of season, because she’d picked a racy contemporary romance along with her usual cozy mystery. “Thank you, Toby. You too. I can see you’re someone’s valentine.”

She eyed the bouquet that sat on the library’s main desk and gave me a knowing smile. She knew exactly who my valentine was—Sean Miggles, the head librarian. I’d been flustered when the bouquet was delivered that morning. I’d never received flowers in my life! I was as proud of the understated mass of white rosebuds and green carnations as if they were the Man Booker prize for literature.

“I’m a lucky guy,” I agreed, brushing my fingers over the soft petals.

“So is he. Have a wonderful day, Toby!”

After she left, I knocked on Sean’s office door, slipped inside, and gave him yet another quick kiss of appreciation.

“Not in the library,” Sean muttered, the way he always did, even though we were alone in his office and his gentle fingers on my cheek said he wasn’t really adverse to the attention.

“Then you shouldn’t send me flowers. Apparently they really turn me on,” I countered, nuzzling his neck before pulling away.

I returned to my desk whistling, pleased with myself for leaving him flushed and speechless.


That night after the library closed, Sean drove us to The Refractory, a French restaurant near Columbus that was tres chic. It was completely booked for Valentine’s Day, but of course Sean had made reservations. It was in a gorgeous old building with brick walls, huge arched windows, fine linen and candles on the tables, and the wait staff all in black. It had the sort of dishes that had small but elegant portions, green and orange drizzles on the plates for color, springs of rosemary, and slices of fresh berries as garnish. Everything I put in my mouth was amazing. But better than anything the chefs could serve up was the sight of Mr. Miggles across from me.

Damn. He looked so handsome it made me squirm. He’d worn his best gray suit with a light rose shirt and deep burgundy tie. His neat brown hair and dimpled chin brought me to my knees, but best of all was the heat and love in his eyes.

How did I, little old Toby Kincaid from Sandy Lake, Ohio, renown book geek, ever get so lucky?

While we waited for our dessert of chocolate mousse, he put a rectangular box on the table. It looked like the sort of box that might hold a pen. I gave him a curious look and put my gift for him on the table too.

“What is it?” I asked, picking up my box.

“A question you’ll soon have answered,” he remarked with a smile. “You first. Go ahead.”

I opened the box. Inside was a shiny set of keys on a beautiful key fob. The fob was made of soft black leather and was inset with two initials in gold. They read “T&S” for Toby & Sean. I adored the fob instantly, but what were the keys for?

I blinked at them for a moment before I recognized the individual items—there were two library keys, a key to Sean’s house, a key to my parents’ house, and two familiar Hyundai keys. They were my own keys, but they’d been cleaned and polished and added to the new fob. Had he done that today?

I looked up at him questioningly.

“I couldn’t afford to get you a new car, alas. But you know how I worry about you. I had your Hyundai detailed, given a maintenance and oil change, and four new snow tires put on it. It’ll be more enjoyable to drive and safer now.”

My mouth dropped open. That was so sweet! I had sort of trashed that Hyundai, and I’d been needing new tires for about a year. And wow, had he been tricky! He’d suggested I put my car in the tiny garage at his lake house a week ago ahead of an oncoming snowstorm, and had offered to drive us both to work in the week since. I’d had no idea my car hadn’t been in the garage the whole time.

“Wow, you’re good at subterfuge,” I told him. “Now I’m worried.”

“I’ll only use it for the best of motives, I promise.” He winked at me slyly.

“This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” I added, in a soft voice, “You are so getting laid for this.” I rubbed his calf with my toe under the table.

“Mmm. I look forward to it.” His low and sexy tone sent a thrill of lust through me.

I swallowed. “Now open yours.”

His box was a larger rectangular about the size of a book. With a raised eyebrow he unwrapped the brown paper with pink hearts. Inside was a kindle in elegant brown case with his name and email address engraved inside the cover in case he ever lost it.

“Sacrilege!” he said teasingly, but he didn’t look unpleased.

“I know you’ve resisted. And you can still read real books too. But this will be great if you ever need to travel, or if you want to read at night when I’m asleep. It’s backlit. Plus, with our new digital lending program at the library, I thought you might want need it to check on downloads from time to time.”

“It’s perfect,” he said simply. He put it down by his plate. “And so are you.”

Oh my God. The look in his eyes for was adoring. I was tempted to jump him despite being in a four star restaurant.

The mousse arrived, distracting my carnal thoughts momentarily with chocolate bliss. We ate from the same dish. I was feeling sappy enough to think about it as a metaphor for life.

As we left the restaurant, Sean took my elbow, clearly proud to be with me. I gave him a long, hot kiss in the car before he started the engine.

When you love someone you want to do things for them—little things and big things.

“Happy Valentine’s day, my love,” Sean whispered, placing a final kiss on the top of my head.

The End

 For your chance to win an eBook backlist from Eli, leave a comment! 


Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK 

The Book

Toby Kincaid loves being the junior librarian in his hometown of Sandy Lake, Ohio. He spends his days surrounded by books and chatting with the library patrons. He especially adores the head librarian, Mr. Miggles, who is kind, witty, knowledgeable about everything, and hopelessly addicted to Christmas. Sean Miggles is also pretty cute—especially for an older guy who wears ties and suit pants every day.

But Sean keeps himself at a distance, and there’s a sadness about him that Toby can’t figure out. When Sean is accused of a crime he didn’t commit, he gives up without a fight. Toby realizes that he alone can save the library—and their head librarian.

Toby will need to uncover the darkness in Sean’s past and prove to him that he deserves a second chance at life and at love too. And while Christmas miracles are being handed out, maybe Toby will get his own dearest wish—to love and be loved by Mr. Miggles.



Author Bio

Having been, at various times and under different names, a minister’s daughter, a computer programmer, a game designer, the author of paranormal mysteries, a fan fiction writer, an organic farmer, and a profound sleeper, Eli is happy these days writing love stories as a m/m romance author.

As an avid reader of such, she is tinkled pink when an author manages to combine literary merit, vast stores of humor, melting hotness and eye-dabbing sweetness into one story. She promises to strive to achieve most of that most of the time. She currently lives on a farm in rural Pennsylvania with her husband, three bulldogs, two cows, pot belly pig, and cat.

Her website is www.elieaston.com
You can email her at eli@elieaston.com
Facebook is https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008994061782
 

Read more »
Labels: ,

Valentines Short (Eleventh Hour) - Elin Gregory


An excerpt from a short story featuring characters from Eleventh Hour.

Early February and things were pretty much dead on the espionage front. It was bitterly cold and snow was piled in the streets of Belgrade, just the time to steal the march on one's opponents, one would have thought, but the reports that came in from outlying agents were sadly lacking in action. Briers Allerdale could only assume that his various opponents were doing what he was doing – following orders to sit in an office pretending to work and be bored out of their minds. He had even sunk so low as to tackle the filing.

"God, what I wouldn't give for a nice juicy assassination attempt,” he muttered as he slammed the filing cabinet. He shuffled over to the fireplace and made more fuss than necessary over adding a few lumps of coal to the already blazing hearth.

"You'll set the chimney on fire." Basset muttered. He was rocking in his chair, balanced on the two back legs of it, and had given up all pretence of looking busy in favour of making paper aeroplanes. "But then we'd be warm and have something exciting to do, so go ahead." He launched his missile and missed the waste paper basket by inches. Briers picked it up and threw it back.

The phone rang and they both lunged for it, Basset beating Briers by a short head.

"Hello, International Trade and Exchange," Basset said. "Oh - right. Allerdale, it's for you."

"Hah!" Briers grabbed the handset from him. "Yes, what?"

"Politeness doesn't cost anything, you know." The bureau chief sounded harrassed. "We just heard that Carmouche of Fabrique Besson is making another of his little trips, and your name is next on the list to shadow him. We just want him watched. If possible, we’d like to know to whom he’s passing information. In our dreams we’d like to know what he’s passing but appreciate that may not be possible. I'm sending the file down with a runner."

"Fabrique Besson, eh?" On the face of it, a French company providing parts for agricultural machines, but so much more than that behind the scenes. Briers looked at the clock. "Have I got time to go home and pack?"

"No rush. You have a week. He's booked on the Paris express on the 12th February, returning on the 15th. We need you in situ on the 11th to familiarise yourself with his route. A creature of habit, Carmouche. Someone will meet you with his itinerary."

"Time to get up to date with his file, then." Working on the principle that if you don't ask you don't get, Briers added, "Bearing in mind it’s comparatively close to home, and if I feel it might be helpful, could I call in some back up? The right resources could make all the difference.”

There was a short thoughtful silence though Briers would have bet that the section chief wasn't thinking what Biers was thinking. “Depends on what they are. All right, within reason. You’ll be on expenses, but don’t go crazy. Do you have contacts?”

“I certainly do." Briers grinned at Basset. "My kind of assignment. Paris just in time for Valentine's Day!”

The word Basset mouthed at him wasn’t normally one heard in polite company

"I'd remind you, Allerdale, that you are not going there to pick up young ladies in Montmartre."

"Oh I wouldn't dream of it sir! The culture, the art! All those museums!"

"Yes, quite. Send Bassett up, will you? I need a fourth for bridge and I don't trust your luck."

Ignoring the insult­­—cheating was part of his profession, after all—Briers put the phone down and passed on the message to Basset. He had to raise his voice considerably to be heard over Basset’s complaints that he was the jammiest of jammy bastards.

"Good luck with that," Basset continued as he got out of his chair. "Carmouche’s own people have about given up on him. They know he's passing on intelligence but have no idea how he's doing it. And he goes to the best places. All I can say is—make the most of it."

"Oh, Bassett." Briers grinned and reached for a telegram form. "You have no idea how much I intend to.”

~

On the evening of February 11th, Briers arrived at the Gare du Nord just in time to watch the Fleche D’Or roll into the station. He hung back a little, hat in hand, as the disembarking passengers milled and called and requisitioned porters, knowing that his ‘resource’ wouldn’t want to risk being buffeted in the crush. Once the platform began to clear, he moved in with a smile and was in exactly the right position to meet an exquisitely dressed young woman stepping down from the carriage. Briers was vaguely aware of her burgundy wool coat lavishly trimmed with black beaver lamb and the neat little matching hat, but his attention was on the way her eyes lit up on seeing him.

“Millie, darling.” He took both neatly gloved hands in his and drew her close before stooping to meet her lips.

Fourteen months ago he had embarked on a dangerous assignment in the depths of London, and had deeply resented being lumbered with an inexperienced partner. But he had learned, fast, that there was more to this “young lady” than met the eye. Not least a very attractive and well-proportioned cock. Since then they had corresponded frequently and met as often as they could, which wasn’t often. Last August they had managed a week together in a chalet not far from Chamonix – a walking holiday Briers had told his masters. When he got back to the office, reeling with exhaustion, they weren’t to know that he hadn’t put a pair of boots on all week. Just the thought of it made Briers groan and tilt his head to get a better taste of her mouth and he smiled as the hands that had slipped inside his overcoat took a possessive but concealed grip on his arse.

A porter cleared his throat and they both laughed and, still in each other’s arms, they stepped out of the man’s way so he could lift the luggage down.

“And just in time for dinner too,” Briers said by way of greeting. “But the restaurant booking I made probably isn’t nearly good enough for that hat. May I say you look stunning?”

“Of course you may,” Miles Siward replied, rouged lips parting in a merry grin. “So do you. I read a copy of the file on Carmouche. Do you plan to fill me in on the rest over dinner?”

“Given the opportunity, I’d fill you in right now over that luggage trolley,” Briers said, sincerely, “but I think it had better wait until we’re back at the hotel."

~

Despite the advice not to go crazy with expenses, Briers had opted for something a bit special in the accommodation line. Something central, something close to Carmouche’s known hangouts, something very classy indeed with the luxury of a private bathroom.

The furniture was top notch too, both attractive and robust. The bed, for instance, was a wonder of Louis Quinze gilded woodwork yet it was vastly improved by the slender body arched across it. Miles’ teeth dented his lower lip and he threw his arms wide, fists clenching in the sheets. As was Miles’ habit, he had discarded Millie the moment they had locked the door. Briers had contained his impatience while Miles put aside the lovely clothing, wiped the makeup from his face and returned to himself, because he knew how much it meant to Miles to meet him man to man. But that hadn’t meant it was easy and he didn’t give Miles a chance to say a single word before flipping him onto the mattress and swallowing his cock. Miles had let out a delighted whoop and had buried his hands in Briers hair, but since then had been reduced to almost incoherent babbling. Briers had brought him to the brink twice and planned to see if he could do it again.

He pressed a kiss to Miles' belly and said, "Come on, lad. You need to keep your wits under all circumstances. What next?"

"You bastard." Miles' whimper sounded more ecstatic than annoyed. "Carmouche – um, OH mmmm – where was I? Oh yes, he's nearly 50, thick set, dark hair, ba – ah – balding, bit of a bon vivant. Oh, I'm going to get my own back later. You'll be sorry."

"That's the way." Briers grinned, hand moving lazily. "You saw photos?"

"Poorly framed, blurry photos, yes. I'll recognise him. Briers – please. I've missed you so much and now you’re …” Miles voice quivered into silence. He sniffed and was that a tear? Briers moved further up the bed to get a better look. It was. The pretty blue eyes were awash, the plump pink lower lip quivering, forming a picture of utter anguish that struck Briers right in the heart.

Briers grinned. “You manipulative little sod.”

Miles bit his lip again and peeped at Briers through wet lashes. Another tear gathered, rolled and dripped off his earlobe.

“Oh that’s nice.” Briers nodded. “Very nice. Can you do that whenever you want?”

“Yes, I can. I’ve been practising. Pritchard was so worried the first time I tried it that he called his friend Ron over. He was completely fooled but Ron says my sniffs are insincere and need more work.”

“I approve. Another big gun in Millie’s arsenal.” Briers kissed the tears away then settled firmly in the cradle of Miles’ arms and legs. “Back to Carmouche.”

“You’re a hard taskmaster, Allerdale.” Miles raised his head to demand a kiss, which Briers happily provided, then flopped back down with a thoughtful frown. “Should I try to vamp him? I could pick him up and that would give me a cast iron reason to be at his side all the time.”

“No.” The word popped out with more force than Briers intended and he scowled at Miles’ knowing grin.

“All right I won’t. Incidentally, you do know that I love it when you get all possessive and bossy, don’t you?”

“I know.” Briers nodded to his trousers, discarded and picking up fluff on the carpet. “I’ve got his itinerary in my pocket. We can lay in wait at one of his usual haunts, have a nice dinner, apparently he enjoys his food, and casually tag along from there.”

“I see. You’ve got it all planned, then.” Miles ran his hands down Briers spine. “So what, exactly, has the past twenty minutes been all about?”

“On the job training?” Briers suggested. The hands had reached his arse and gave him a sharp squeeze, which was a hint if Briers had ever felt one. As his hips jerked down, Miles hooked a heel round the back of Briers’ thigh to keep him in place. “But I think we’ve done for now.”

~

To be continued

For your chance to win a backlist ebook from Elin please leave a comment below.


Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK 

The Book

Borrowed from the Secret Intelligence Service cipher department to assist Briers Allerdale – a field agent returning to 1920s London with news of a dangerous anarchist plot – Miles Siward moves into a ‘couples only’ boarding house, posing as Allerdale’s ‘wife’. Miles relishes the opportunity to allow his alter ego, Millie, to spread her wings but if Miles wants the other agent’s respect he can never betray how much he enjoys being Millie nor how attractive he finds Allerdale.

Pursuing a ruthless enemy who wants to throw Europe back into the horrors of the Great War, Briers and Miles are helped and hindered by nosy landladies, Water Board officials, suave gentlemen representing foreign powers and their own increasing attraction to each other.

Will they catch their quarry? Will they find love? Could they hope for both?

The clock is ticking.

Eleventh Hour was a Runner Up in the 2016 Rainbow Awards in the categories for Gay Historical Romance and Best Gay book.

Author Bio

Elin Gregory lives in South Wales and works in a museum in a castle built on the edge of a Roman fort! She reckons that’s a pretty cool job.

Elin usually writes on historical subjects, and enjoys weaving the weird and wonderful facts she comes across in her research into her plots. She likes her heroes hard as nails but capable of tenderness when circumstances allow. Often they are in danger, frequently they have to make hard choices, but happy endings are always assured.

Current works in progress include one set during the Great War, another in WW2, one set in the Dark Ages and a series of contemporary romances set in a small town on the Welsh border.

www.elingregory.com | https://www.facebook.com/elin.gregory
Twitter: @ElinGregory | http://elingregory.wordpress.com


Read more »
Labels: ,

Change Of Plans (A Point Shot Valentine's Day Short) by VL Locey

Change of Plans
By
V.L. Locey


I could tell just by watching him getting ready for dinner that he was stressing something. I know him well. He is my husband, after all. Maybe it was the way he kept looking at me and then glancing away, or the way he fiddled with the new gold cufflinks I had bought him, or it could have just been the weird way him and me were wired together. I know he scoffs at telepathic links and otherworldly things like people being soul mates or predestined to come together. And that’s okay. He can make caustic comments about things I like to entertain in my head. I know it’s his way of coping with the stuff he can’t explain or wise mouth away. That’s how Victor deals with emotional things or ideas that he can’t or won’t try to wrap his head around. His life runs easier if he keeps things on a straight line that includes me, sex, and hockey, with the occasional Netflix binge or pizza.

“Vic, you okay, babe?” I asked when he stalked behind me in the bedroom yet again, the fourth tie chosen in five minutes balled up in his hand.

“Why can’t we just follow my traditional Valentine’s Day agenda?” He stopped on a dime and looked at me, his hazel eyes showing how agitated he was. I could read those blue-green beauties like a playbook now.

“The one where you buy four boxes of chocolates and a bottle of Jack Daniels then proceed to get naked and shitfaced drunk while watching Christopher Titus ‘Love is Evol’ on a continual loop?”

“Yep, that’s the one.” He threw the dark blue tie to his dresser.

“As romantic as that sounds, you gave up drinking.” I turned back to the mirror and ran my fingers through my wet hair, trying to get the black mass to dry before we left. It was four degrees outside in Cayuga, New York. Frozen hair wasn’t new to me, being from Manitoba, but I wanted to try to style the shit a little, maybe.

“Dan, if you cancel this V-Day shit, I will suck your dick so well you won’t be able to walk for days.” Vic stepped up behind me. His hands slipped around my hips. He waggled a red eyebrow and toyed with my belt buckle. I rolled my eyes. “Come on. Every man on the planet wants a stellar BJ on V-Day. See, that rhymes. Totally should be a Hallmark card.”

“Vic, we got reservations in an hour. I made them, like, six months ago, to make sure we had the best seat in the place. We’re not staying home tonight.”

“Seriously, think about it Dan. We can even do a Dan movie. I’ll let you slide some chick flick in while I get you off. You know you wanted to see that movie with that chick and that dude the other night but I was totally into ‘Fast and Loud’ and wouldn’t let you watch it.”

“That’s every night. You’ll need to be more specific.”

Victor started working on my buckle. “The other night. I don’t know which one. You sat down beside me just as the gang at Gas Monkey Garage were going to crank out the reveal on a sweet little ’69 Mustang and shoved a DVD case in front of my face.”

“Oh, that night. Yeah, that wasn’t a chick flick, doofus. That was a comedy-mystery that had Randy Harrison in it.” He slid my belt out of the loops. He looked confused. “Randy Harrison. Vic, he played Justin in ‘Queer as Folk’?”

“Oh, Justin. No shit. I bet he grew up pretty. I still like Brian the best.” He tugged the front of my dress shirt out of my pants.

“You liking Brian is not a shocker to anyone who knows you. And he did grow up pretty. You’d have seen how pretty if you’d have looked at the case.” I grabbed his hand as it wiggled under my shirt. “Vic, we have reservations in an hour. You’re not going to sex me out of this night, okay?”

He snapped his hand out from under my shirt then huffed off. “Fine, we’ll just go sit in that stupid restaurant with all the other saps whose wives dragged them out.”

I had never known Poles had such short tempers. Or maybe it was just this one. There was something else under his bullshit, though, something that was pushing him to be a huge bag of dicks. Well, a huger bag of dicks than he was on a daily basis. There always was something behind his attitude. I padded over to where he stood, staring into the closet and gave his biceps a short cuff. He threw me a glare over his shoulder, his blue-green eyes sparking.

“Okay, for starter’s, I know I told you before, like, fifty times; I’m not your wife, I’m your husband.” He made a face of complete contempt. So, I pushed around him and got right into his long, handsome mug. “Second, I don’t ask much from you, Vic. We both been ignoring us for the Cougars, and I get that. We’re in season and hockey comes first. But tonight, I want us to be first.”

“Well, go be first alone. I can’t take you to that fancy place because I don’t have anything to give you.”

“Vic, really? All this is over the fact you didn’t get me anything? I mean, yeah, it kind of stings because the world knew Valentine’s Day was coming and you didn’t even get me a--”

“It’s not that I didn’t get you anything. Fuck, Dan, I bought you, like, five different gifts. And every time I had Lila check them out – because what does a dickhead like me know about romance and gifts – she told me they weren’t romantic enough. So, I took them back each time and looked for something else. There’s nothing out there good enough for you.” He threw his hands into the air, his rant picking up steam while I stood gawping up at him. “Then she said ‘Write down your words in a poem. Daniel will love that!’ and yeah, that went about as you thought it would. Fucking poems. Christ, like I can make poems that don’t start off with some guy being from Nantucket and his ginormous cock?”

“Vic, babe, I--”

“And now here I am, the brain-damaged moron with no gift to give you after you give me those great cuff links and this dinner. I cannot do this shit, Dan. You know I can’t. I don’t do emotions and shit.”

“What did you want to say?” He looked at me in total bewilderment. I peeled off my suit jacket and lobbed it on the bed. “In the poem that you tried to write for me. What did you want to say?”

“I don’t know.” He spun from me and began pacing our bedroom, his long legs propelling around the room with speed. I leaned back on the dresser and crossed my arms over my chest, watching him churn up what he wanted so badly to say. Victor was right in that emotional dialog was hard for him. His childhood had seen to that, but now that I had his band on my finger and he wore mine, we were working on it. It wouldn’t be quick. Somedays, I figured it would never happen at all. “I wanted to tell you that I love you. And, uh, that you make me smile when I wake up and see your stumpy little body curled around mine.”

“Yeah? Go on.” He ran his fingers through his flaming red hair as he worked to dredge up the feelings he keeps so deeply buried. “What else did you want to say to me in that poem?”

“That you make me laugh. And that the smell of you on me makes me hot and hard instantly. That when I look down and see your ring on my finger, I want to puke and grin and cry all at once. That you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and that I don’t think I could go on in this world if you weren’t by my side to help me along.”

I cleared my throat softly. “Vic, oh man, that was beautiful.” I went to him because I knew he needed lots of tactile now. He always did when he purged like that. “I really need to hold you.”

“Okay, good, yeah,” he murmured and drew me into his chest, his fingers instantly going into my hair. He fisted it and kissed my brow, his lips soft and needy, he pecked his way over my closed eyes to my mouth. And then, as it always does with Victor and me, the fire ignited instantly. With the just the touch of his tongue to the corner of my mouth I was hard and desperate to love him. The kiss was grinding teeth and frantic hands. I tugged at the light blue shirt he had pulled on but never buttoned. He held my head tightly, pulling slightly on my hair, his tongue sliding over mine then delving deeper to stroke my molars. I bared his chest then went to work on his zipper, freeing his cock. “Oh shit, Dan, man, the reservations…”

“Fuck them,” I huffed then shoved my much taller husband to our bed. “We’ll get something delivered. You need me inside you right now.”

He licked his lips while lifting his ass to wiggle out of his pants. I threw my shirt and tie to the side, unzipped and kicked off my trousers. Victor’s gaze roamed over me.

“I do love a man who goes commando.” He fisted his long cock and began stroking it. “You riding me? Please tell me you’re riding me.”

“Oh yeah, I’m riding you.” He reached over his head for the lube on the bed stand while I crawled over him, taking time to run my tongue over his legs. I tugged on the curly red hairs on his thighs with my teeth, glancing up to see him working his prick. “After I suck on your dick for a little bit. You down with that, Vic?”

“Am I down with you going down? Hell and yes, sweets.” I lapped a wet line along the inside of his pale thigh, making him groan and wiggle around trying to hurry me into taking his dick into my mouth. I wasn’t in no hurry. He continued to stoke himself – the light on the dresser glinting off the gold band on his third finger of his left hand – and watch me making my way closer to his prick. “Dan, you fucking sexy little son-of-a-bitch, get my cock into your mouth.”

“You’re pretty pushy for the man on the bottom.” I flicked the tip of my tongue over the head of his dick. He twitched and held his cock tight. I took him into my mouth, my lips sliding over smooth skin covering hard meat. Vic released his cock when my lips met his fingers. He pumped up as I went down and his moan of pleasure was long and raspy. I sucked him noisily, cupping his huge balls. He pushed my hair from my face as he called my name on a breathless whisper. I pulled off with a pop, spittle dribbling down to my chin. “Give me that lube.”

He blinked, like he was trying to clear the cloud of lust from his mind then handed me the lube, his body taut and firm. I climbed over him, my leg brushing against his cock when I threw it over his hips.

“You’re going to want to get on me fast, Dan.”

“Yeah, no, you don’t tell me how this is going, Vic.” I leaned down on him, pressing my chest against his and claiming his mouth ravenously. His fingers dug into my ribs as he tried to lift me up higher while I sucked on his tongue. When I needed air, I left his mouth and sat back, ass on his thighs and found the lube lying beside him. His eyes were smoky now, heavy lidded, and his lips slightly puffy from our kisses. He trembled when the lid to the lube snapped open. I squeezed a dollop into my palm then smeared it over the purplish head of his cock. “You liking that, Vic?”

“Shit, yes,” he replied then thrust up into my hand. I gave him a few strokes then shimmied over him, pushing up to a crouch like a catcher in baseball. “Shit, Dan, yes, I fucking love it when you do this.”

He grabbed his cock and held it for me. Eyes sliding shut, I lowered myself downward. The tip of his cock slid past my ass once and then twice. On the third try I felt him penetrate me and I paused, hands pressing into Vic’s chest, I pulled in as much air as I could then lowered myself down onto him. The stretch and burn in this position was intense. He kneaded the flesh on my thigh with his left hand, obviously yearning to rush things but there was no way I was just flopping down on a cock that big.

“Vic, damn it,” I said through clenched teeth when all of him was deep inside me. “Christ, no, don’t move yet. Ahh, okay, yeah, that’s okay.” He rolled his hips in a small circle. The sensations were amazing. I moved up a few inches then gently came back down.

“Fuuuuck.” Vic pulled down on my hips, seating himself so deeply inside me, it made my eyes water. He pushed up to his elbows then to his hands. I shoved him back to the bed before dropping from a crouch to a straddle, my knees gripping his sides. He latched into my ass cheeks with his hands, spreading me wide and then pushing the mounds as close as he could. Again, he tried to sit up and once more I pressed him back into the bedding. “Faster. Now.”

I threw myself into it, whipping my head back with each slamming motion up and back. Victor arched up, his ass leaving the mattress, his fingers digging so hard into my ass, it hurt. I didn’t tell him to stop. Would never tell him to stop. I loved every mark and bite he left on me when making love. They were reminders of our intimacy, of how strong and powerful he and me were as men and as partners. Each twinge I’d feel tomorrow would make me yearn for him again because that was how big me and Victor were and always had been. From the first time I had seen him up close, I knew I wanted the lanky, foul-mouthed bastard. And I got him. How lucky am I?

“Dan, I am so close. Sooo fucking close.” I sat back, pressing myself down onto him and then rotating my ass in a wide circle. Vic lost his mind just as I knew he would. I tossed my hair from my eyes and palmed my cock. My husband cried out my name then closed his eyes, his orgasm hitting him like a body check from the big man in Boston. All it took was one or two tugs on my dick and I blew apart as well. Victor shimmied around under me, rolling his pelvis to get deeper as I came on his stomach and chest.

Noises and grunts fell out of me, no words. The sight of my spunk speckling his chest, stomach and chin a moment later started another rolling tremor that lasted forever it seemed. Finally, when my body couldn’t take anymore, I fell over him, my nose resting under his ear, his hands massaging my ass tenderly.

“Sweet fucking Nellie Olsen,” Victor panted under me, his head rolling an inch or two so he could press a kiss to my sweaty hair. “And maybe Ma and Pa Olsen, too. Shit, Dan, you hot little Hobbit, you.”

I rose enough to be able to look down at him. He pushed a couple of strands of dark hair behind my ear, his expression tender. I know that some people think that the Venomous Pole can’t do tender, but he can, and he can do it so good. It’s just not something he does where anyone but me can see it. Makes him weak or so he thinks. “They teach you how to do that in the Shire?”

“They teach us how to do lots of things that got nothing to do with smoking pipes, poking around in a garden, or wearing ornamental waistcoats on dull days,” I murmured over his mouth, the kiss just an inch from happening.

“No wonder Sam and Frodo always looked so fucking spent,” he chuckled then lifted his shoulders from the bedding to seal his mouth over mine. We rolled to our sides and continued kissing and stroking each other for a long time. “You know we’re going to be late to that fancy eatery, right? No way we can make it to Corning in less than fifteen minutes.”

“How about we just stay here in bed and make call for one of them pizzas you like so good?” I said as I nipped at his collarbone. His fingers traced the Wolverine tattoo on my biceps.

“You sure you won’t be too disappointed because I never got you anything?”

“Nope, not for a second. Not ever, Vic. I never wanted nothing but to have you give me something from your heart. And man, did you ever. I’m real happy to eat pizza in bed with you for the rest of my life.”

He fell into silence. I ran my tongue over his arm just to taste the incredible mixture of sweat and Kalinski. “You still got that movie with Justin from QAF in it?”

“Yeah,” I lapped at the fold in his arm and then licked my way back to his mouth. It wasn’t always toxic. Right now, it was damn sweet, if you asked me. Too sweet. Like addictive sweet.

“Think we can just lay here a bit more so I can look at you a little longer?”

“Yeah, I think I’d be happy to lay here and look at you forever.”

The pizza was a little undercooked but the movie and the encore with Vic totally rocked.

Best. V-Day. Ever.

The End

For your chance to win The Point Shot Box Set leave a comment below! 

Out March 1 2017


Now, you can have the books that introduced Victor Kalinski to the world in one reasonably priced boxed set! With over 350 Goodreads reviews and ratings combined, the romance of Vic Kalinski and Dan Arou is one that once read, will never be forgotten. In this three-book set, you’ll get to experience all the passion, sarcasm, hockey action, and romance that reviewers have called “Beautifully Written”, “Surprisingly Heartfelt”, and “Hot! Hot! Hot!”

“The writing in this is snappy and awesome, the story moves at a great pace and oh it's HOT AS EVER-LOVING HELL. There's romance that never veers into a too-sappy place, it's FUNNY and full of great lines right and left, and so engaging that I couldn't stop reading it. The ending is satisfying, with our characters not becoming perfect people but becoming better together than they are apart, and that's just about as romantic as it gets.” Avon Gale – Author of the Scoring Chances series






Readers should be over 18 due to mature language and gay sexual situations. The set includes:

Two Man Advantage (Point Shot Trilogy #1)
Game Misconduct (Point Shot Trilogy #2)
Full Strength (Point Shot Trilogy #3)

About the Author

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

Read more »
Labels: , ,

A Valentine's Short - Annabelle Jacobs

A Valentine's Short featuring Nathan and Jared from Bitten By Mistake.

Monday February 13th.

Jared poured two mugs of tea and handed one to Seb. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Seb eyed him over the top of his mug. “Doing anything special tomorrow?”
“Um…. It’s a Tuesday, so working, I suppose.”
Seb rolled his eyes and set his mug on the worktop. “I know that, I meant at night?”
“Nope, I don’t think so.” Jared frowned, wondering what was with all the questions. “Why?”
“Because it’s Valentine’s Day.”
The bark of laughter that statement caused almost made Jared spill his tea. “Can you seriously imagine Nathan’s face if I gave him flowers?” He laughed again as he pictured his big bad shifter mate holding a bouquet of red roses. “He’s so not the type to celebrate something like that.”
Seb grinned back at him, “I guess when you put it like that….” He took a sip of his tea, gaze still on Jared, and clearly not done with the subject. “But aren’t you going to get him anything at all, or maybe cook a nice meal?”
Jared shook his head. “Nah, I’m not bothered, and neither is Nathan. I doubt he even knows that it’s tomorrow.”

Tuesday February 14th

Jared woke up to an empty bed. Although he’d assured Seb that he wasn’t bothered about Valentine’s day in the slightest. It still stung a little that Nathan hadn’t even kissed him goodbye before he left for work.
Guess I was right. He has no idea what day it is.
Rolling onto his side, he glanced over at Nathan’s pillow and spied a small blue rectangular piece of paper. Smiling, he reached out to pick it up.

Had to go in early, sorry.
Be back around 5ish.
Love you
N x

Okay, so that took the edge off his mood. Like he’d told Seb yesterday, neither of them were bothered about it being Valentine’s day. Thanks to the bond, they knew exactly how much they loved each other without having to resort to cheesy cards.
He got on with his day as per usual--breakfast work, lunch, more work--and by the time five o’clock rolled around he’d forgotten all about what day it was. His spine cracked as he stretched his arms above his head, and he sat back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. With any luck he’d be finished with this damn project soon, and he and Nathan could take the weekend off. His phone vibrated with an incoming text and Jared glanced down to see Nathan’s name on the screen.
Running late, be back about 6.
He stared at his phone for a second, then replied with an ok and set it back down. Usually when Nathan went in that early he was back by three, four at the latest. Jared tapped his fingers on his thigh, while a nagging thought did it’s best to take hold.
Nathan was behaving a little strangely. It was Valentine’s day. The two things couldn’t possibly be connected. And yet…?
Nah. Coincidence, that’s all it was. Not in his wildest imagination could he see Nathan doing something romantic because a date on a calendar told him he had to. Safe in the knowledge that he was right, Jared settled back on the sofa and turned on the PS4.

Two hours later, Jared smiled as he felt his bond with Nathan stir and strengthen. He must be in the building. Turning off the TV, Jared, stood and stretched, sighing as a wave of happiness washed over him. When it was quickly followed by a flash of smugness and excitement, Jared froze in the middle of the living room.
It was a Tuesday night. They had nothing planned that he knew of, so why was Nathan giving off vibes like that. Oh fuck.
Three seconds later, Nathan burst through the door, all smiles, carrying two white plastic carrier bags. The accompanying smell made Jared’s mouth water and for a second he forgot all about his impending doom.
Setting the bags on the worktop, Nathan strode over to him. “Happy Valentine’s.” Before Jared could reply, he found himself backed up against the wall, Nathan’s mouth on his. The kiss was desperate and needy, and Jared sank into it, tangling his fingers in Nathan’s hair.
“I thought you’d forgotten,” he whispered, when Nathan finally let him up for air.
“Not a chance.” Nathan trailed kisses along Jared’s jaw, working his way down until he reached the bite mark on Jared’s neck. “I might not remember every year, but I’m not going to miss our first one.” He licked and nipped at Jared’s skin, the hint of fang making Jared moan and tilt his head to the side. “I bought us dinner, so you don’t have to cook.”
As hot as it was having Nathan pin him in place and have his way with him, Jared couldn’t stop the feeling of oh shit.
Obviously their connection gave him away almost immediately, and Nathan pulled back to meet his gaze, frowning slightly. “Everything okay?” He glanced over at the bags of food, and back at Jared. “Oh fuck, you haven’t cooked us a meal or anything, have you? I knew I should have checked, but I wanted to surprise you and--”
“Stop.” He put his hand over Nathan’s mouth. “I haven’t cooked, and I am surprised. Thank you.”
Nathan smiled behind Jared’s fingers. “Good. But why the sad feelings?” Realisation slowly dawned, and though he tried, Nathan couldn’t quite hide the hurt expression that came with it. "You forgot."
Fuck.
Scrabbling to think of something to say that wasn’t a lie, Jared mentally went through everything they had in the house to see if there was any way to salvage this, and … Oh. He had just the thing. He cupped Nathan’s jaw, and smiled. “I didn’t forget.” Not a lie. “I’m just not sure that what I’ve got in mind matches up to that delicious smelling food in the kitchen.” Also not a lie.
“Oh.” Nathan’s smile was back, and the bond hummed with satisfaction and pride.
“Come on, let’s eat it before it gets cold and I’ll give you your present afterwards.”
Nathan’s smile turned sly. “Like for dessert?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.”

Nathan had no patience. None. As soon as Jared set his fork down and declared he was finished, Nathan was up and clearing their plates away. He turned around to face him, rubbing his hands together. “So….”
Jared laughed at him, but got up off his chair, and walked over. He placed a finger under Nathan’s chin and urged him closer for a kiss. “Wait here until I tell you to come in,” he whispered, finishing it off with a wink.
Nathan swallowed. “Hurry.”
Jared kissed him again, then deliberately sauntered off in the direction of their bedroom, smiling to himself when he heard Nathan’s frustrated groan. As soon as he was inside with the door closed, Jared raced over to their wardrobe and threw the doors open. “Where the fuck are you?” he muttered, scanning the shelves for the tell-tale box.
Fuck, he was sure it was in there somewhere. They’d not had it out since that night after the club, but Jared knew he’d packed it with everything else when he moved in with Nathan.
A small pile of boxes stacked in the corner caught his eye. “A-ha!” Kneeling, he pulled out the familiar-looking box and lifted the lid. Perfect.
Ten minutes later, he was ready.
Shoving his clothes into a pile next to the bed, he walked over to the door and pulled it ajar. “You can come in now.” Nathan would be quick, so Jared hurried back to the bed, climbed on and arranged himself as seductively as he knew how.
The door swung open a second later, hitting the wall with a bang. Nathan stood in the doorway, staring at him open mouthed. “Fuck me!”
“I was hoping you’d fuck me.” Jared fingered the edge of his collar and licked his lips.
Nathan’s gaze zeroed in on it. “Yeah.” He stalked forwards, stripping off his clothes as he moved, still fixated on the word written on the black leather. Claimed. “I can do that.”, Nathan reached the side of the bed and stopped to shuck off his jeans. He climbed on, and Jared immediately spread his legs wide in invitation.
“I’m ready, come on.”
Nathan smirked, and ran his thumb over Jared’s hole. “Thought I could smell lube.”
Jared pushed into his touch, wanting more, and bit back a moan as Nathan slipped the tip inside him. “Couldn’t… wait.” The low rumbling growl set him alight as it always did. He loved to make Nathan lose control a little. It always ended with teeth and orgasms, and Jared wanted it now. “Fuck me.”
Nathan growled again, fangs sliding out as he shuffled into position between Jared’s thighs. He thrust inside with one smooth stroke, and Jared arched off the bed to meet him.
“Oh fuck.”
Jared wrapped his legs around Nathan’s waist, urging him down to lie on top of him. Nathan obliged, his mouth immediately finding Jared’s neck and Jared cried out as he felt the sting of teeth pierce his skin.
Their connection blazed with want and need, burning through his veins like lava. He fisted Nathan’s hair, fingers tight as he held on, needing something to ground him. Nathan licked at the new mark he’d left, gripped Jared’s shoulders and fucked into him until Jared tumbled over the edge moaning Nathan’s name.
Still riding the high of orgasm, Jared guided Nathan in for a kiss, keeping him there as he tensed and spilled inside him.
“Happy Valentine’s day,” Jared whispered against his lips.
Nathan took a couple of seconds to answer, and when he did, he pushed up a little to meet Jared’s gaze. “You did forget, didn’t you?”
Their bond was still a happy buzz of contentment, so Jared offered him a sheepish smile. “No, I just didn’t think you’d want to celebrate.” He kissed Nathan again by way of apology. “Forgive me?”
Nathan raised an eyebrow and ran his thumb along the front of Jared’s collar. “I think I can manage that. I should surprise you more often.” Jared laughed and Nathan grinned back at him. “Happy Valentine’s.”

For your chance to win an ebook of Bitten By Mistake, leave a comment! 
 

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK 

The Book

From animosity to searing passion in a lunar cycle… but can their bond survive?

Wolf shifter Nathan Kohl’s pack is his whole life. Arrogant and handsome, he avoids commitment to anything or anyone outside of his pack. He works hard, plays hard, and pursues humans as lovers because there’s little to no chance of him forming a permanent bond. However, when Jared Taylor comes into Nathan’s life, every rule is broken.

After a bad experience, Jared vowed to never get involved with another shifter, no matter how much they got under his skin. Despite being physically attracted to Nathan, who’s all kinds of hot, Jared only sees an arrogant, domineering bastard.

A disastrous case of mistaken identity throws Nathan and Jared together until the next full moon. Forced to spend the next twenty-eight days in close proximity, they can no longer ignore the powerful attraction between them. Passion ignites, and their relationship takes a turn neither of them wanted.

But when the full moon comes, everything might change again.

Author Bio

Annabelle Jacobs lives in the South West of England with three rowdy children, and two cats. An avid reader of fantasy herself for many years, Annabelle now spends her days writing her own stories. They're usually either fantasy or paranormal fiction, because she loves building worlds filled with magical creatures, and creating stories full of action and adventure. Her characters may have a tough time of it—fighting enemies and adversity—but they always find love in the end.

Twitter – https://twitter.com/AJacobs_fiction
Website – www.annabellejacobs.com
Email – ajacobsfiction@gmail.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/ajacobsfiction


Read more »
Labels: ,

Delayed Gratification - Kim Dare Valentine's Short


This story catches up with Stephen and Alex from Instant Gratification, a few months after the end of that title.

Delayed Gratification

“Yes, sir.”

I hadn’t exactly shouted the words, but they’d cut through the air in our corner of the club very clearly. Everyone in our group turned to gawp at me. Kev, James, and all my other friends did good impressions of gold-fish. Only one man standing around the bar height table didn’t look as shocked as hell.

Maybe Stephen looked slightly surprised, but his expression was more assessing than anything else. Assessing, and concerned, and very ready to jump in and rescue me if necessary.

Okay, I get it. You’re my boyfriend not my personal servant. I’m sorry, I’ll stop being so bossy. Perhaps it wouldn’t be those exact words, but as I met Stephen’s eyes, I knew that if he saw the slightest bit of uncertainty in me, he wouldn’t hesitate to pretend that the honorific he loved was a joke at his expense. Hell, he’d probably pull it off, too. It wouldn’t take much to convince my friends that it was the truth.

I held Stephen’s gaze as the seconds ticked passed, making sure he knew that my using the word sir toward him in front of all my friends for the first time wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t a slip of the tongue, it was a conscious decision.

His expression changed slightly as he realised that I knew what I was doing.

“Since when do you call Stephen ‘sir’?” Kev asked from somewhere off to my right.

“Since we first started dating,” I said, still not breaking eye contact with Stephen.

God help me, but I could see it in his eyes, he was still prepared to step in any time and play it off as a joke if necessary.

“So he’s your dom?”

“Yes.” It was a huge relief to finally say it in front of them.

“What happened to baby-doms don’t know what they’re doing?” someone else in the group asked.

“And not subbing to anyone within a decade of your own age?” another voice chipped in.

“Didn’t you say before that…”

My friends’ voices floated around me, repeating back all the things I’d said about younger would-be doms over the last few years. Apparently, they hadn’t noticed that I’d stopped saying them a few months ago, at exactly the same the time as Stephen and I started dating.

Failure to keep repeating the same statements was obviously a lot easier to overlook than my actions completely contradicting them.

I made myself look away from Stephen and met the gaze of each of my friends in turn. “I was wrong.”

Kev looked as amused as hell and I had no doubt he’d be roasting me for months about falling for a dom who was even younger than me. I’d been too sure, too vocal, about thinking it was impossible for a young man to be a good dom, to get away with not being teased mercilessly about my change of heart. I was okay with that.

I saw similar expressions on the faces of the other subs in the group.

The next guy I turned to was a self-declared dom who was just a few years older than me.

“So when you said that I—”

“I was wrong when I said that it was impossible for a man my own age to know what he’s doing and be a good dom,” I cut in. “I wasn’t wrong when I said you don’t know what you’re doing, just about Stephen. There’s a difference.” There wasn’t a trace of submission in my voice when I spoke to him, no honorific.

I turned back to Stephen and there was a light in his eyes which I only usually saw in private.

As the guy I’d shot down moved to speak to another wanna-be dom I’d told I wasn’t interested in a few weeks before I met Stephen, and as other men stepped away from the table to share gossip, the group shifted and I found myself standing next to Stephen.

I glanced up at him, waiting for his final verdict. He didn’t say anything, just stroked my cheek with his knuckles.

To hell with it, I gave in and broke the silence first.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sir.”

He frowned slightly. “I had no problem with you wanting to keep our kinks private. I didn’t mind waiting. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” I cut in.

He fell silent again.

“You might not need them to know I’m your sub, but I definitely wanted them to know that you’re my master. I didn’t want to wait any more. I like that they know now, sir, and I like being able to call you sir whenever I want to.”

For the first time all trace of concern left his eyes. He liked it too. It wasn’t exactly a surprise to me. I’d always known he’d love for everyone to know that he wasn’t just a vanilla boyfriend to me—for them to know exactly who I belonged to.

Consideration, patience, and a willingness to keep our kinks private if I wanted to, were all nice traits in a dom. Possessiveness was an even better one. And my master didn’t just like us going public, he loved it.

With that much success running through my veins, I couldn’t help but double down. “Of course that means there’s nothing stopping us doing anything in public…” I glanced across to the door leaning from the bar towards the public play rooms at the back of the club.

“Not tonight.” He didn’t even pause to think about it.

“Other plans?” I asked.

He put his half full glass down, took my almost empty glass out of my hand and set that aside too. Next thing I knew we were out in his car—not the Jag he sometimes managed to wrangle from work, just his normal ride.

I started to put my belt on, expecting Stephen to race us back to his place as quickly as possible, but he stopped me short and switched on the interior light instead.

He took a box out of his jacket pocket. It was less than an inch deep, and about four inches square. He offered it to me.

I had the lid off in less than a second. A necklace-long length of braided leather lay coiled against the padding inside the box. There was a silver clasp at each end. The air caught in my throat as I ran my fingers over it.

“The idea was to keep it subtle, so we’d be the only ones who knew it was definitely a collar rather than just jewellery,” Stephen said. “It’s—”

“It’s perfect.”

“No one will think it’s just jewellery now, Alex. Well, strangers will still think that, but none of your friends will.” Tucking a knuckle under my chin he made me tear my eyes away from the collar and look him in the eye. “They’ll all know you’re wearing a collar. My collar.”

“Good.”

As tempted as I was too look down and admire the collar again, I kept my eyes locked with his, letting him know I was just as certain about this as I had been about my announcement in the club.

It only took him seconds to fit the collar around my neck. The leather rested against the notch between my collarbones in the front. It would be easy to hide behind a shirt at work, but I had zero interest in hiding it from anyone. I wanted everyone to see it—to see that I belonged to my master—to see it now.

“Do you want to go back inside for a few minutes before we head home?” Stephen asked, an indulgent, amused note creeping in his voice. He knew how much I hated waiting for anything if I could avoid it.

There was only one answer to give, and from that moment on I could say it no matter who was in earshot. “Yes, sir!”

The End

For your chance to win any you choice of these titles Axel’s Pup, Duck!, Celebrate, Magpie, Base Over Apex, Worth Waiting For, Worth a Shot, Better than Sex, Instant Gratification, or an IOU for my next e-book release, leave a comment below.


The Book

Frustration has never been one of Alex’s kinks. Neither has self-denial, or saying no to men he’d really like to have sex with. So, he’s not quite sure how he ended up in this mess.

The bet had sounded so simple when he first heard it. All he needs to do is say no to everything Stephen offers him for the next twelve hours. How hard could that possibly be? Despite the fact that Stephen is the kind of guy Alex would love to say yes to, for vanilla at least, Alex is confident he’s going to win the bet no trouble at all.

He remains confident, right up until the moment the bet begins and he finds himself in more trouble than he ever thought possible. Then, the only thing Alex is sure about is that twelve hours is an incredibly long time for a man to have to resist temptation, especially if that man has been used to instant gratification.

Please note: This story was previously published under the title Yes! and as part of the Friction Anthology. This version has been re-worked to become part of the How I Met My Master Collection, but it has not been significantly extended.

Author Bio

Kim is a bisexual submissive from Wales (UK). First published in 2008, she has since released over 100 BDSM erotic romance titles ranging from short stories to full length novels. Having worked with a host of fantastic e-publishers, she moved into self publishing in 2013.

While she occasionally enjoys writing other pairings, most of Kim's stories focus on Male/Male relationships. But, no matter what the pairing, from paranormal to contemporary, and from the sweet to the intense, everything she writes will always feature three things - Kink, Love and a Happy Ending.

You can find out more about Kim's books on her website, follow her on Twitter and Facebook, catch up with her blog, and email her directly using the links below.

Website: www.kimdare.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/KimDareAuthor
Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/kimdareauthor
Blog: www.kimdare.wordpress.com
E-mail: kim@kimdare.com


Read more »
Labels: , ,
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)