Make a Wish, E.D.Parr Erotic, romantic, a Christmas MMromance to make you tingle
It’s the day before Christmas Eve and gorgeous, happy, Nick Kringle is making deliveries on the main street of the city when a car breaks down at the intersection.
Amid the seasonal crowds and inclement weather, Dylan West gets out of his car and tries to push it to the side of the road.
Nick rushes to help him and comes face to face with the most delicious man he’s ever seen.
Dylan’s down on his luck, but Nick believes in magic.
Can wishes come true? You bet—especially if Nick Kringle has anything to do with it.
Who is Nick Kringle?
With a name like that you might think he’s the jolly old elf in red, but Nick is a gorgeous guy who just happens to have a touch of the supernatural about him. He drives a red SUV, he delivers goods, and sometimes they’re straight from somewhere special—a place of magic and kindness.
Nick is gorgeous, kind, generous, loving just the kind of man that down on his luck Dylan West needs to run into. Could it be fate that makes his car break down unexpectedly almost next to Nick on the busy main street full of hectic Christmas shoppers and travelers? Maybe…
Read an excerpt:
The city street glistened with rivers of red, green, bright pink, and white light thrown there by the stores and cafés decked out for the holiday season. Rain fell in drifting sheets as a chill wind ravaged the shoppers rushing from one place to another, some laden with parcels, others hunched against the weather in their winter coats.
Nick parked his SUV in the first available space, opened the trunk with the interior lever, and leaped out. He didn’t feel the cold unless snow lay knee deep on the ground and even then, he enjoyed the beauty, and the way a new white fall would change the light, way too much to complain about the chill.
As he ran around to the back of his vehicle, the squeal of tires braking hard and the clamor of honking horns made him spin around. In the junction behind him, standing motionless, was a stalled car. Other drivers surged around the stationary vehicle, making everything worse by taking space in the oncoming lanes so that everyone crammed dangerously together.
The driver of the offending vehicle edged out of his open car door, narrowly missed by a small car that chanced overtaking just as the lights turned red.
Nick cast a keen gaze over the man, registering his muscled body beneath an inexpensive suit and his thick dark hair, pushed back from his forehead so that the front spiked up. Nick watched the man lean into the open driver’s side door and attempt to shove the heavy vehicle to the side of the road. The man’s pants stretched over his hard ass and a sigh of appreciation escaped Nick. With one hand on the wheel, and the other lodged in the gap between open door and car, the man clearly needed help. Nick clicked the trunk of his SUV closed and jogged over to help.
“Hi, I’ll lend a hand,” he called to the stranded driver. The man straightened to answer and Nick was face to face with one of the most gorgeous men he’d ever seen. Nick never hid his emotions. They shone from his ice-blue eyes and exuded from his well-toned body. He smiled at the man in a way he knew and didn’t care broadcast attraction, desire—pure sex.
Apparently unaffected by Nick’s charisma, the man gave a grateful nod. “Thanks.” He leaned into the task of pushing the car out of the way, as the traffic lined up behind him, and the sky opened with a fresh punishing downpour.
Ronnie Durand is a country boy who transfers to the University of Washington after two years at Central. He’ll have to give up playing football, though finishing his
education at a major university in Seattle – and being out and proud without
having to look over his shoulder – makes the sacrifice worthwhile.
But finding friends at a huge school is tough, especially when the hottest guy
Ronnie meets makes him doubt his own sanity.
Sang’s been on his own a long time. He’s only a couple steps away from living on the
street, and he’s got dreams so big they don’t leave space for a steady
boyfriend. Then he meets Ronnie, who just might be strong enough to break
through his barriers….as long as Sang lets him in on one big secret.
My bike’s parked right in front of the club. “Are we going far?” I ask.
“Four or five blocks.”
I hand him the helmet. “Get on.”
He slides the helmet on, and I help him tighten the buckles. He chitters a laugh, making the moment silly and a little awkward. I straddle the bike, and when he climbs on behind me it turns me on so bad I almost come again. Damn. I want to be stretched out in a bed with Sang, both of us naked, with a box of condoms and a Costco-sized bottle of lube.
With nudges and hand signals, he guides me to a big brick apartment building about a quarter mile away. I park, and he springs off, leaving me with a sharp shiver at the loss of his heat. By the time I get the bike locked up, he’s on the front door phone.
“I need your bed, chica.”
“I’m in it.” The voice is muffled, most likely female, and laughing rather than annoyed.
“Then your couch.”
The phone clicks and goes to dial tone, and the door buzzes. I follow Sang through the lobby, where the dark burgundy carpet could be original to the 1940s. We jog up a couple flights of stairs and down a hall to an open apartment door.
“Go.” He hustles me in, then throws the deadbolt and taps on a closed door to our right. “Thanks, baby.”
An indistinct bleat answers him, likely from the location of the occupied bed. The rest of the apartment is one room with a kitchenette in the corner. It’s dark except for the streetlights outside, but Sang knows where to find candles and a match. We’re quiet, wordless, working with borrowed solitude. Compared with the thrash of the nightclub and the sleazy bathroom stall, I’ll take it.
I dump my jacket and helmet on the dining table. Sang sets two candles on the tiny bookcase, hauls me over to the couch, and pushes me down. I’m laughing, because for a little guy, he’s bossy as hell. Then he straddles me, and I want to kiss him without pissing him off. I drag him close and nuzzle his neck, tasting, testing, planting not-kisses in a hot line down his throat. He sighs, and I take it as permission to keep going.
His pants are stretch leggings, so it doesn’t take much to get them worked down over his hips to free his dick. It’s so elegant, tapered and smooth. I want to suck on it again, to bring him off and make him sputter in Korean or Chinese or whatever language he babbled in last time. If he wanted me to, I’d fuck him, but he’d have to ask. I’m not really much for butt sex. If a guy’s into it, I’ll do what he wants, but my own preference is for hands and mouths, everything slick with spit and lube. I like messy sex. And kissing. I really like kissing.
I stroke him, rubbing my thumb over the head of his dick, and he flops against me like I’ve disconnected his spinal cord. The room smells of smoke and roses, and he’s fumbling at my zipper, those delicate hands all trembling and raw, so I reach in and help. My hand’s big enough to wrap around both of us, the heat of his thrust enough to drive both of us crazy. His lace shirt is tangling in my fingers and around our shafts, so I undo the buttons and shove it off his shoulders. My black silk is already kinda trashed, but he does the same for me, exposing my chest.
Our thrusting goes from eager to urgent to needy, his heavy-lidded gaze trapping me. His climax hits like a rocket, like fireworks going off in a black July sky. I follow, but it’s more of a tease, dragged out, slow and seductive until I can’t breathe and I arch off the couch. Sang crawls up my chest, hanging on, laying open-mouthed kisses over my ear, down my jaw.
If I’m lucky, this night will never end.
“We need to go soon.”
His whisper hits me like a slap. “I’d bring you back to my dorm,” I say, “but I haven’t given my roommate the homophobia quiz yet.”
He raises up and smirks at me. “I don’t like him already.”
I run a hand over his shoulder, smoothing his ruffled feathers. My calloused fingertips catch in the lace, and I wonder how something so old fits like it was made for him.
“What are you studying in that big school, anyway?” His question is tentative, cautious.
“Exercise science or maybe business. I haven’t chosen a major yet.” I pause, giving him a chance to ask a follow-up question. When he doesn’t I step up. “What about you? What are you studying at that big school?”
He grimaces and shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m not at your school.”
“Oh, it’s my school now?”
He pats my cheek. “Yes. Your school.”
“I see you every day in World History.”
“No one sees me.” His lower lip softens, and he catches it with the tips of his teeth. “They see the clothes.” He reaches for the lace blouse, shaking it out and tossing it over his shoulders. “They see a girl or a scenester or a queer.” He stands, shakes his junk back into his stretchy pants, does a little hootchie dance to organize things. “No one sees me. Not even my family.”
Old pain erodes his effervescence, showing through the cracks like basalt under soil. I’m stretched over the couch, on display, my shirt open and my dick hanging out of my jeans. He covers my eyes with his hand, but I knock it away.
“I think you look real good. I’d like to see a lot more of you.”
Which sounds really kind of lame and try-hard, but this is what I came to Seattle for, too. Adventure. Maybe even romance, the kind I can show off in public.
“I want to,” he says.
For a moment he shows me his profile, private, thoughtful, and I give him some space to go on.
“And if I was going to see someone,” he continues with more laughter in his tone, “he’d be a lot like you.”
“So let’s do it.”
I should probably feel bad when he doesn’t respond, but the back-to-back orgasms catch up with me. I tip my head back and close my eyes, fighting sleep. Sang’s rummaging around the apartment. Haven’t a clue why he’s lying about school and why he won’t take me up on my offer, but after two evenings he’s an itch I won’t be able to scratch on my own, so I let it go. Country boys are known for their determination.
Bio
I write romance: m/f, m/m, and v/h, where the h is for human and the v is for
vampire … or sometimes demon … I lean more towards funny than angst. When I’m
not writing I take care of tiny premature babies or teenagers, depending on
whether I’m at home or at work. My husband is a soul of patience, my dog’s
cuteness is legendary, and we share the homestead with three ferrets. Who steal
things. Because they’re brats.
Thank you so much for having me on your blog today. I visited with my re-released title, Character Obsession. It was published by my publisher, Breathless Press, but they were closed some time ago. I am so grateful that Evernight adopted this story. I was so happy with some additional parts suggested by my editor here in Evernight. I think they were a great idea!
Title: Character Obsession
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Genre: MM Contemporary Romance
Word count: 14,800
Heat Level: 3
Blurb:
Chase Riley, a Hollywood actor, is kidnapped. One of the abductors, Luke Nelson, is delusional and thinks that Chase is Elliot, the character Chase plays in his procedural cop series on TV. Luke plans to replay what happened to Elliot on the show with Chase. The worse thing is that Luke gets help from his father who seems to be as crazy as his son.
Chase’s boyfriend, co-actor Aidan Buffett, is on a trip with his sister when Chase is abducted. He grows worried when his call to Chase goes unanswered. Will he ever see his boyfriend again?
This is a previously published work. It has been edited for Evernight Publishing.
Be Warned: m/m sex
Excerpt:
Chase’s mind whirled and before he thought of anything else, he grabbed the door and threw himself out—or so he thought. The man was faster. A lot faster. He seized Chase by his jacket and just—stabbed him in his side. Chase caught his breath, and for some time he didn’t realize what happened. He sucked in a breath and whimpered when the guy yanked the knife out none too gently. Chase felt his world darken so he didn’t notice when the man slipped out of the car, came to be at the driver’s door, and wrenched him out from behind the steering wheel. As his breathing turned labored, Chase grappled at the source of the pain on his side and winced as he grasped it.
“Come on. Move.” The guy grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed Chase in front of him.
Chase swayed in the man’s clutches, but he pulled himself up as he controlled his breath.
Chase attempted to plant his feet as he was dragged up the stairs, but the pain had become too much and he could only comply. At one time the man rested him against the wall, took off his sunglasses, and pulled down his jacket hood, revealing himself. Chase gasped. The man was practically the mirror image of that Bob Nelson he met earlier at the diner, only rounder and much sturdier. And also a lot younger. What worried Chase was this man took off his disguise and didn’t seem too concerned he could recognize him. Not like Chase would be able to escape him and go to the cops, anyway. He was too sluggish to even move. They’d come in the back door, but not much attention was given to them by those at the front desk. Chase suspected that the man had stayed in the hotel long enough that he’d become just another familiar face.
The man’s grip tighten around his arm, but Chase kept his glare toward the receptionist in an attempt to get his attention—which failed totally—for the guy kept his head down. As his abductor dragged him toward the elevator, Chase palmed his side and lifted his hand with dread. It was damp and deep red with blood.
“Don’t do anything you’re going to regret,” the guy whispered to his ear as they got into the elevator, which, to Chase’s dismay, was empty. “I don’t want to have to kill you, Elliot. I love you.”
Chase turned cold at the mention of his character’s name. “I’m not Elliot,” he choked out. “I’m Chase.”
“Hush.” The man pulled Chase’s back against him, wrapping his long, muscled arm around Chase’s shoulders, waving the knife before Chase’s eyes.
Reading, watching movies, and being unable to find exactly the thing she wanted to read have led Iyana to write her own stories, mostly about man-on-man romance that has fascinated her since as early as the Starsky and Hutch era. Teaching and writing English course books during the day, Iyana spend her nights mostly dreaming of love stories between two men who are protective toward each other.
Audience: Adult 18+ – Genre: MM Romance Horror – Format: e-book – Publisher: JMS Books – Cover by: Written Ink Designs – Editor: Willem Schutte – Pages: (17, 172 words) – ISBN: 9781611527643 – Date Published: April 5, 2015
Lucian Salvatore returns to Clover East after his grandmother calls him home to take care of the family’s recording studio. This is a welcome trip after the tragic loss of his boyfriend.
Nate Lockwood is the man who practically runs the Salvatore studio. He suspects he’s going to be replaced once Lucian comes home to take over the business. But Nate doesn’t plan on leaving Clover East so soon, at least not before he solves the mystery that’s the real reason he came to the small town in the first place.
Will Nate be able to discover what happened to his aunt who disappeared in Clover East so many years ago? What does her disappearance have to do with Lucian’s family … and the haunted recording room in the studio where they both work?
“You have family here? Clover East is such a small town. I don’t visit often but I think I know who all the families are around here.”
Nate was tempted to ask if Lucian knew Janette Madison, Nate’s aunt, but he was afraid it would be too soon, too abrupt.
“Nah, I don’t have family here,” he said instead. “I had just thought one of my aunts stopped by this town, but I’m not so sure myself.” There, he had said it.
“You haven’t had any news from your aunt?”
“No.”
“You mean she’s missing or something?” Lucian frowned.
“Honestly, I don’t know if she’s missing or just doesn’t want to be found.”
“Did your family ask you to find her?”
Nate played with his bottle. He wouldn’t look at Lucian. “No one asked me to locate her because there’s no one else out there. She’s the only family I have left. That’s why I wanted to find her.”
Neither spoke after that. When Nate lifted his head, he found Lucian staring blankly at a spot on the table. He wanted to ask about him instead but Nate couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth. His mind was whirling with the thoughts that until now, years after he first came to this city, he still couldn’t find Aunt Janette.
Nate,
I’m sorry about your loss and I’m very sorry I didn’t come to the funeral. I was halfway around the continent and I was quite short of money. But don’t worry about me. I met someone and he asked me to go live with him. I don’t know if you’ve heard of Clover East, a small town in Illinois? I hadn’t, before this. But I have a good feeling about this place, Nate. If you ever want to come to stay with me, you’ll be more than welcome.
“She sent me a letter, literally inviting me to be with her.”
“What do you mean — be with you?”
“She met a man who asked her to come to Clover East. She understood I had just lost everyone so she wanted me to stay with her. She sounded so happy at that time. There were no signs that she wanted to hide. Something bad must have happened to her.”
“Did she mention any names?”
Nate shook his head, and practically jumped when Lucian clasped a hand over his. When did he get so close?
“You’re not alone anymore. We’ll search for your aunt and we’re going to find her. Together.”
Nate gawked, first at the hand that was warm against his skin and then up to Lucian’s soft green eyes. The man was nothing like the cold, arrogant one Nate had met earlier that morning. He was almost afraid at the sudden change.
“Uh, thank you, I guess?”
“Does my grandma know about this?”
“No, I never told her.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Nate had never thought about why it had not crossed his mind to talk to Helen about it. She had never asked him why he came to the town, thus, he didn’t feel the need to mention it.
“I don’t know,” he said simply to Lucian.
Lucian pursed his lips. “I just thought it might help, you know. She’s lived here all her life. She must notice when there’s a newcomer in town, especially when the person suddenly disappears.”
“I found it strange,” Nate said slowly, “that no one seemed to hear or see anything about her. It’s like she never set foot in this place.”
“Are you sure she was really here?”
Nate said nothing and took out his cell-phone. He opened the picture albums and scrolled down until he found what he was looking for. He showed the picture to Lucian, who scrutinized it like a doctor checking on a patient on an operation table. Nate could almost see through Lucian’s eyes his aunt smiling at the camera, her long black locks blown by the wind. She posed in Clover East’s city square in front of a group of tables belonging to a café there.
“She was alone.”
“Yeah.” Nate knew exactly what Lucian was thinking. If she’d been with someone, they might have been able to recognize them.
“I wonder who took the picture.”
“She could’ve simply asked a passerby to do it.”
“You’re right.” Lucian gave him back the cell phone. “She only sent you that?”
“Yes, unfortunately.”
“So she was really here but we have no idea for how long and whom she met.”
“I was worried about her.” Nate sighed, and when he looked up, Lucian’s eyes bored into his.
“We’ll tell my grandma when she’s home and start an extensive search.”
Nate didn’t know what to say. He felt as if he was drowning in Lucian’s gaze.
“O-okay,” he said finally, after he realized Lucian had cleared his throat several times, awaiting his response.
“Good.” Lucian heaved a deep breath and stretched out, pulling his arms high above his head, and Nate was unable to keep his eyes off the scrumptious sight. “So, will you stay for dinner?”
Iyana writes M/M short stories and novellas. Her works have been published by Evernight Publishing, JMS Books, Books to Go Now, Torquere Press, Bitten Press, Leap of Faith Publishing, Breathless Press, and Alfie Dog Fiction.
Iyana lives in Jakarta, a city famous for its traffic jams, a lot of cars and motorcycles, and people selling stuff on the roads. You can spend two hours on the road going to a place you can reach in half an hour in a normal situation. Thanks to the traffic jams, though, Iyana can come up with a lot of stories, mostly shorties, as she prefers to spend the time during her trips writing into her cell phone rather than sleeping.
Another thing Iyana loves is kitties. Right now she has three of them. Their names are Cil, Horus, and Betsy, and one kitten. When she doesn’t write, she plays with them, or they would play with her when she writes.
I’d been through a ton of shit in my life. The guy I thought I loved left me, and the guy I thought was my friend, started stalking me. I found myself though when Mike came to me and offered me a job. Things were going good. My stalker seemed to back off and I began to live again.
However, that didn’t last long. As Mike became more of a fixture in my life, my stalker became more obsessed. Now, stuck between my stalker and the man I could fall for, I had a decision to make.
Do I give up myself and go with Kyle, or do I make a stand and finally put my stalker to rest.
EXCERPT
“Hey Fin? You home?” Mike’s voice rumbled up from the courtyard. I closed my eyes and sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
“Yeah, I’m up here, Mike,” I called out. Never had I been so happy to hear his voice.
A few moments later he bounded up the stairs. Kyle snarled, still close enough that I could feel his breath lick against my neck. “Hey Kyle.” Mike brushed past him wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.
I died and went to heaven.
I gasped. Mike took that opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue pushed into my mouth. His fingers threaded through my hair, holding me still as he thoroughly devoured me. I whimpered against his lips as the full thickness of his erection pressed against my belly. When he finally pulled back, my head was spinning.
Thanks so much for having my boys on your blog today J
Well, I say my boys, but from the minute James and George met, they only had eyes for each other. However, office romances are never a good idea, especially when you’re the new boss, and the man you fancy is your office manager.
George has no idea how to make that first move. He knows James is gay, but everyone in the office assumes George is straight, and besides… you can’t just tell your staff that you want to fuck them silly, now, can you? Never mind the fact that you might be developing feelings for them.
*winks*
No, a subtle move is needed, and this card is it.
Okay, maybe the card isn’t that subtle, but it sure gets the point across.
After all, The New Year is a time for new beginnings, and George wants those with James… if he can only convince him that Love is a precious thing…
Blurb:
~Love is a precious thing~
When James Dyllon finds an explicit card on his desk he doesn’t know what to think. His hot as Hades boss has never given him the slightest indication that he returns James’ affections, so this card can’t be from him. Two male lovers entwined—someone is having a laugh at his expense.
George MacKenzie is done lusting after James from afar. A New Year brings with it the opportunity for change and George is tired of hiding. Since taking over the company after his father fell ill, he is finally in a position to act on his feelings, and he wants James. The card might be a feeble attempt, but at least James does not seem disinterested.
Together they will be able to weather anything, as long as he can convince James that he really does want forever.
Excerpt:
“Happy New Year, boss.”
He put the tray on the night stand, and offered George two aspirin and the glass of water. George swallowed them and winced anew at the sandpapery quality of his throat. James grinned again—in sympathy George assumed—though it was difficult to determine through his blurry eyed vision and the brass band which seemed to have taken up residence in his head.
“Happy New Year.” George managed to croak those few words out and collapsed back on the bed with a groan. “I’m never drinking again.”
“Of course you won’t. Here, sit up, get your caffeine hit, and have a shower. You’ll feel better afterward, I promise.”
George glared at the other man through hooded lids, and decided there and then that James had to be some sort of sadist. No one was this happy first thing in the morning, and took this much delight in torturing another human being into sitting up. The clanging cymbals in his head all decided to bash together in discord and George groaned and held his head in his hands.
“Fuck.”
James’s amused snort joined in with the percussion instruments crashing against his skull and George screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Sadly we haven’t yet. I don’t think jerking off to images of you passed out in my bed counts as fucking you, and I do find myself most impatient to do so, so be a good boy, drink this coffee, and then for the love of God, shower, man.”
Amusement tinged those words, but there was an underlying edge that registered over the fuzz for brains in George’s head, and he cracked one eye open to look at James. The intensity of his gaze made him swallow, and all conscious thought fled out of his brain as James grasped his hands and wrapped them round the steaming cup of coffee.
“Coffee, shower, fuck, in that order.”
James winked at him, and George did as he was told. The slap to his ass as he stumbled off the bed and James pointed him to the bathroom, stung, and made his cock jerk. James noticed, of course and wrapped his hand around George’s shaft and pumped it a few times. Exquisite pleasure shot through George’s system, and he braced a hand on the wall to steady himself.
“Fuck, James, stop doing that, or I’ll never make it into the shower.”
James laughed, bit his shoulder lightly, released his cock, and swatted his ass again.
“Don’t be too long in there, or I’ll be forced to join you.”
George groaned and shook his head.
“Is that supposed to be a deterrent or a promise?” He didn’t catch James’s laughing reply, as he stumbled into the bathroom. By the time he managed to eventually relieve himself, wash his hands, and brush his teeth with the spare toothbrush he’d found propped up against the sink, he felt almost human. The warm stream of the power shower further revived him, and he stood and let the hot spray cascade over him. He wasn’t entirely surprised to hear the shower enclosure open and shut and he sucked in a breath when he opened his eyes. James stood with his back to him, and George got his first good look at James’s dragon. It covered his back, wings flapping wildly, and the art work was supreme. Over James’s broad shoulders, down his muscular back and into his delectable ass, George’s gaze followed the trail of ink, and giving into the need to touch the other man, he let his hands follow the trail of his visual inspection.
His cock reared back into life with a speed and force that left him lightheaded as James’s lust filled groan trembled through the confined space of their shower enclosure, and his lover’s muscles tensed under George’s fingertips.
“That’s fucking awesome, baby.” George ran his knuckles down James’s spine until he reached the globes of his ass. Squeezing the firm flesh he kneaded his lover’s butt cheeks and kissed down James’s back. It took a bit of awkward maneuvering in their confined space, but he managed to drop to his knees, and continue his path downward. James swore under his breath and slapped his hands on the tiled wall for support when George spread his lover’s ass cheeks and licked from James’s heavy balls upward to his anus.
James tensed and panted, when George tunneled his tongue through James’s ring of muscle while bringing one hand round to grasp his thick shaft.
“Fuck, George, you don’t have to… Jesus.”
James’s cock jerked and pulsed in George’s firm grasp, and those tight muscles guarding James’s rear entrance tightened around his tongue in involuntary clenches that told George in no uncertain terms how close James was getting. Anal play was something George had always enjoyed. The mere intimacy of the act showed how much you trusted the other person, and he withdrew slowly and growled his next words into James’s hairy thighs, while he fondled the man’s heavy balls.
Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris… at least that’s what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.
There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.
She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Left adrift after escaping from an abusive relationship and being constantly on the move in an effort to stay one step ahead of his abuser has left Salem Rooks with little in the way of personal connections in his life. So when Salem bumps into an attractive stranger on his way to work one morning he isn’t expecting it to lead anywhere. He certainly isn’t expecting it to change his life.
Wyatt Pendleton is handsome, sweet natured, and homeless. Drawn to the quiet strength Wyatt exudes Salem finds himself pulled back to the man’s side time and time again. Working through their differences is a challenge, as is the ever looming shadow of Carter, Salem’s abusive ex, to deal with. Despite that Salem finds that he and Wyatt are both willing to fight and overcome all of it in order to protect the home that they’ve found in each other.
EXCERPT
He wanted Wyatt fiercely in that instance and his hands moved down of their own accord to pluck at the waistband of Wyatt’s pants. He was all set to tug at it, to finally see what Wyatt’s cock looked like when one of Wyatt’s hands suddenly wrapped around his fingers and tugged them away. Startled, Salem pulled back far enough to look Wyatt in the face.
Wyatt was flushed, his cheeks red above the dark line of his beard, his lips kiss swollen and his eyes bright with want. Salem’s own face felt hot, the skin of his cheeks and around his mouth rubbed tender by Wyatt’s beard. He leaned forward to kiss Wyatt again, but to his surprise and slight hurt Wyatt shook his head slowly. Salem sat frozen as Wyatt raised a hand up to slowly, carefully, cup his jaw in the warmth of his palm instead in a gesture that had quickly grown familiar between the two of them.
“We can’t, Salem. Not now, not just yet.” Wyatt’s voice was a deep, throaty rasp that made Salem’s stomach flutter for a brief second before he focused on what had been said.
“Why not?” Salem cleared his throat and did his best to ignore the huskiness of his own voice as doubt crept up on him suddenly. It was enough to break through the passionate haze that had fallen over him. “Do you not want me?” Salem shifted nervously where he was pressed against Wyatt’s body as he waited for the answer. He was sure Wyatt did want him, but he still felt compelled to ask. He could feel the line of his cock pressed against his own hip, a thick hot weight that made Salem want to sigh in anticipation, but it suddenly wasn’t proof enough. He’d been wrong about so much in the past that Salem needed the reassurance.
“I want you.” Wyatt replied instantly before he leaned back down into Salem’s space to nip and suck at his earlobe. Salem shuddered. “I’ve wanted you for weeks now. I’ve imagined being with you, in you, a hundred times. I’d daydream about kissing you, about how you’d taste, what you’d feel like. Wanting’s not the issue, Salem.”
When a ghost from his past begins to haunt him, Griffin loses the only man he’s ever loved. Not one to be knocked down for long, he joins the local police department, donning the badge once more, determined to catch his lover’s murderer. But the killer isn’t done with him yet. When a rash of crimes breaks out, all targeting Griffin, he knows that his dates are numbered if he can’t catch the person responsible. With fellow officer, Garrett Peterson, aiding his investigation, Griffin knows it’s only a matter of time before he catches the killer. What he doesn’t count on are the developing feelings between Garrett and him. But how can be possibly make time for love when his life hangs in the balance?
EXCERPT
“You should take the day off,” Garrett said. “I’m sure the captain would agree if he were here.”
“You heard the paramedic. I’m fine. The burns are mild and won’t keep me from doing my job.”
“Would you quit being a stubborn S.O.B. and take some time to calm your mind and lay low for a day? The last thing you need to do is give him another shot at you while you’re rattled. Don’t make me attend your funeral. I don’t think I could take it.”
Griffin frowned. “If you’re trying to say something, just spit it out.”
“Dammit. Don’t you know how I feel about you? You can’t deny there’s an attraction between us. I know we haven’t been close before this case opened up, but I’ve always watched you. Not in a creepy stalker way, but in that desirous, gut churning way. I just never knew how to approach you. You’re kind of intimidating.”
Griffin was more than mildly surprised. He’d spent quite a bit of time with Garrett over the past few days and hadn’t noticed the other man’s attraction to him. He’d been so focused on the case that it had left little time for much else in his life. He was flattered a man as attractive as Garrett would be interested in him, but now wasn’t the time to start a relationship. He wouldn’t be responsible for another lover dying, and Griffin knew without a doubt that the killer would come after Garrett if he thought the man meant anything to him.
“You didn’t know, did you?” Garrett asked.
Griffin shook his head. “It isn’t that I’m not flattered, because I am, but now isn’t the time to start something. Not until this asshole is caught and behind bars—or dead.”
“I was afraid you’d say something like that. Like it or not, I’m glued to your side until this case is wrapped up. Which means I’ll be camping out on your couch.”
Griffin was shaking his head, but there was a determined look in Garrett’s eyes and he knew he would lose the battle. It seemed the man’s feelings were deeper than Griffin had realized, but it wasn’t something Griff could think about right now. He wasn’t sure he could ever allow himself to feel for another man again. It didn’t just feel like a betrayal to Justin’s memory, but he never wanted to put himself in the position of losing someone important to him. He didn’t think he could survive another loss like he’d experienced the day Justin died. It had damn near killed him. Only his determination to seek justice had given him the strength to carry on.
“Fine. But don’t expect me to like it.”
Garrett’s lips tipped up on one corner. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I need to change. Then you can give me a ride to the station since it seems I’m without a ride until I can replace my car.”
Garrett leaned closer and sniffed. “You are a bit smoky.”
Griffin snorted and turned toward his house. He could feel Garrett’s presence behind him as he entered his home and left the door open for the other officer. If he was determined to play bodyguard, Griffin supposed he would have to let him. In his bedroom, he quickly stripped out of his uniform of jeans and a dress shirt, and pulled a clean set out of the closet. He pulled on his pants and slipped on his shirt. Leaving it hanging open, he gathered his boots and walked back to the living room. Through the open door, he could see his fellow officers milling around his yard as they examined the scene.
He felt Garrett’s gaze on him and he met the hazel eyes caressing his body. It hadn’t been an intentional temptation when he’d come in half dressed, but it seemed Garrett was taking it that way. Garrett stepped closer until their bodies were nearly brushing. Despite his intentions to hold the other man at bay, his heart sped up, leaving Griffin wondering if maybe he felt more for the man than he’d thought.
Garrett gripped the back of his neck and pulled him down for a scorching hot kiss, his lips rough and demanding as he took what he wanted. Griffin could have pulled away, could have put a stop to it, but as Garrett’s tongue flicked against his lips, he found himself opening, wanting more, needing Garrett’s taste on his tongue. He dropped his boots and his hands rose of their own volition, gripping Garrett’s waist and pulling him closer. So lost in the moment, Griffin didn’t care if someone saw them. It was no secret that he was gay and the guys on the force didn’t seem to have a problem with it. It was completely out of character for him to flaunt it though.
The deep, devastating kiss was both exploratory and fierce. Garrett demanded that Griffin give in to him and Griffin found himself powerless to do anything else. It was a long, drugging kiss, Garrett’s lips lingering as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Garrett’s tongue thrust into his mouth again, dancing, curling, coaxing. The kiss turned seductive and Griffin couldn’t fight his body’s response to the other man. His cock stirred with interest and for the first time in six months Griffin wanted more than basic human contact: he found himself desiring another man, needing him with an urgency he thought he’d never feel again.
When Garrett finally pulled away, Griffin was panting, his heart hammering against his ribs, his body hard and tense, wanting a release that he knew wouldn’t come. Not yet anyway. After that kiss, Griffin knew if Garrett pursued the growing attraction between them that he would be powerless to turn the other man away. His body craved satisfaction, but now wasn’t the time. He wanted more than a quick tumble, wanted more than to just take the edge off.
“I’m not giving up on you, Griffin. We will finish this later. Count on it.”
Griffin swallowed hard and nodded. He’d always initiated any intimacy between Justin and him so Garrett’s aggression was different, and a definite turn on. He had a feeling they would fight for dominance in the bedroom, both of them alpha males and used to getting their way. With Garrett’s promise hanging in the air, Griffin quickly finished dressing and followed Garrett out of the house and to the waiting squad car.
With an overactive imagination and a penchant for making up stories, was it any wonder Dulce Dennison decided to be an author? From cowboys to shapeshifters, she has a story for them all, but her passion lies in writing m/m romances. Dulce believes in love in all shapes and sizes, and that everyone deserves a happily-ever-after.
Married since 2000 to a man she isn’t sure is quite human, her husband and children (whom she fondly calls the demon spawn) keep her busy, but never too busy to write. Is there such a thing as too busy to write? Most mornings you can find Dulce set up with her laptop, a cat curled up next to her, and a steaming cup of coffee just an arm’s reach away.
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