Friday, December 30, 2011
Let me start by saying how much I loathe New Year stuff. I have many reasons for this, reasons I won't bore you with. But, since 2011 has been an interesting year for me I feel obliged to mark the occasion with some early morning, post coffee ramblings. I'll cobble a list together. Because it's early in the day and my brain isn't firing on all cylinders, I'm bound to miss stuff - it's all really random.
The High points of the year
1. 'Stolen Summer' - Who knew I'd get my mucky little book published? Guys, it seriously was a 'one-off'. I never imagined in a million years that I'd get it published and that I'd end up writing even more m/m romance. I think I might be addicted to the genre. It's like crack. O_0
What's been mind-blowing is the love from readers. I'm not one for false humility so to see praise being lavished on the book really is the proverbial cherry on the sundae. I am so grateful for reader-love. I'd love to personally smooch each and every one of you or, at the very least, give you cookies.
I'm still pinching myself over the pretty medal on the right hand corner of this blog. Three nominations - fecking brilliant, and in very illustrious company. If you're an m/m romance fan and you're not a member of the Goodreads M/M Readers group, you need to be!
2. Beautiful cover art - Both covers are posted in here. I know you've seen them before but I love them both. So I've put them up again.
3. Friends - I have amazing friends, old and new. You all know who you are and I thank you for being here/there.
4. Family - here and there. I hate that my parents and sister live across the ocean but we've all just discovered the joys of Skype so I can no longer look like an utter slob when I'm parked in front of the computer.
Lordy, this is sounding like an Oscar acceptance speech. I'd better move on.
The Crappy bits
1. Losing my job. It was a sucky, stressful job but the money helped. But, I guess, on reflection, my sanity is more important than stomach ulcers or waking up at three in the morning worrying about something I should've done or should not have done. Still, if the employment Gods are out there, I'd like a job, thanks.
That's really the only bad thing. The rest I can deal with.
I know I've missed loads of stuff but I don't want this to be a self-indulgent ramble so I'll shut up now.
Oh, one more thing. If you're a regular visitor to my blog, don't be shy. Let me know who you are. I have Statcounter so I can see you! muwahahahahaha!
Before you slip away onto Facebook, Twitter or whatever sites you frequent. Answer me this: What were your high and low points this year?
Happy New Year everyone. May you know peace, prosperity and joy.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Sorry for the delay folks. I was suffering from the annual turkey coma yesterday and was also unsuccessfully fighting my addiction to 'Angry Birds'. As I'm currently languishing on a level where the villainous pigs are protected by stone vehicles, I've abandoned the game so I can:
(a) Post this blog
Today's Hottie is the lovely, talented John Barrowman. Not only does he have lovely dimples but he can sing, dance and act. He also has excellent taste - the top picture is Mr. Barrowman with his partner Scott Gill.
Captain Jack Harkness is one of those characters I wish I'd come up with. He's an intergalactic rogue with a roaming eye and an endless supply of 'pick-up' lines. If you haven't seen it, you must watch the 'Torchwood' episode where Captain Jack meets the man whose name he 'borrowed'. Make sure you have tissues ready because it's beautiful and heartbreaking.
So, I present to you on this grey post-Christmas Tuesday - John Barrowman.
Monday, December 19, 2011
I can honestly say, it's made my year. The M/M Romance Group on Goodreads has put together the 2011 Members Choice Awards. I am beyond thrilled to say that 'Stolen Summer' has been nominated for three awards:
Gay/Out for You Theme
the real thrill
Best Debut Book!!!
The M/M Romance Group is one of the biggest readers' groups on Goodreads so to be nominated is just the icing on the cake of a crazy writing year for me. If you're an M/M reader and you're not a member...join now!
Now, for some reason, I've lost a whole bunch of icons across the top of my blog thingie and I can't find the one for adding a link, so I'll just have to post it here. http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/20149.M_M_Romance
Thanks for the nominations! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Monday again already?
We're less than a week away from Christmas and we're into that time of year best known for conspicuous consumption. You can't escape it. There's cookery shows all over the place, aimed at helping you prepare the Best Christmas Feast Ever.
In the spirit of the season, today's Hottie is the utterly adorable Adam Richman. He's the host of 'Man versus Food'. The lovely Adam visits restaurants and pretty much sets himself the challenge of eating a restaurant's Biggest or Spiciest dish. How this man is not the size of a small country or hasn't had a stomach transplant is beyond me. I love watching him. He's incredibly funny and adorable and if I wasn't married, he'd be the type of man I'd want to take home to meet my parents.
So, today, I present the cuddly, charming, hilarious...Adam Richman.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Today, I received the other artwork bits and pieces for 'Orion Rising'. Needless to say they are as stunning as the cover art and they have words on them! Hints of the story to come.
I have a stinking cold so these made me feel almost human again.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Today's hottie hails from a Land Down Under. He's played a brooding android with a conscience and a tall blue dude in a major, major Sci-Fi pic. The second picture is taken from that film, although you may not make the connection.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
I am a bit slow to start today, and I thought it might be fun to take part in Victoria Blisse's regular Sunday Snog event. It's extra special this week because there's a competition and a Kindle up for grabs for people who stop by her blog. You can find it here. Don't forget to stop by and read some snoggage, just the pick-me-up for this grey, gloomy winter Sunday.
I woke to silence. The rain had moved on leaving the air cooler. My arm was numb and I reluctantly eased it from beneath Marcus’ shoulders. He stirred in his sleep and reached for me.
“I’m here.” I threaded my fingers through his.
“Good. I thought I’d been dreaming.”
My body’s aches told me it certainly was no dream. “No, not a dream.”
“It seems a shame to waste time sleeping.” He nuzzled my throat, nipping at my earlobe. “Don’t you think?”
My cock rose in response to his touch. “You’re right.”
“Who knows when we may get a chance like this again. I want to remember this night for a long time.” The bedclothes rustled softly when Marcus rolled onto me.
I welcomed his weight and caressed him, committing his smooth skin and warm lips to memory. Every kiss was a languid reminder of why I loved him. Marcus moved with agonising slowness, travelling from my lips, to my throat and lower.
“I want you,” he whispered. “I refuse to let you sleep for the rest of the night.”
“There’s little chance of that.” I gasped when he traced the length of my cock with teasing fingers.
“Now the question remains, how do we pass the time?” Marcus cupped my balls in his warm palm and grinned.
“I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
“It would help if I could see you properly.” He rolled away and left the bed. He fumbled in the dark until he found matches and re-lit the lamp. The room was suddenly flushed with soft, flickering light.
I enjoyed the novelty of seeing Marcus naked and my arousal increased because I knew that, for that one night, he was entirely mine. He splashed water on his face and returned to me. “That’s better. I can see you now.” His lips brushed my brow, the tip of my nose, the corner of my mouth. “I never tire of looking at you.”
“Nor I you.”
“Now you’re just being kind. I’m a battered, tired soldier who’s spent too long in the back of beyond.” He traced a careful circle around my nipple and then repeated the action with his tongue. “You are water to a dying land. You’re rain where there should be none.”
I lifted his face to mine and kissed him. “I thought you were a soldier, not a poet.”
Marcus caught my bottom lip between his own and shifted onto me, pinning me to the bed with his weight. “You bring it out in me.” His erection pushed against mine. “You make me a better man.”
“Nonsense. You were a good man when we first met.” I tasted his skin, felt the shadow of his beard beneath my lips.
Marcus swept his hands to my hips and slid them beneath me. “All these compliments will go to my head. Be careful or I may take them to heart.”
“I want you to. I mean what I say. I never expected any of this, I never expected you. There are times when I want this siege to last forever so that I never have to leave. I don’t want to think about never seeing you again. As much as I want to go home, the price I’ll have to pay will be more than I can bear.”
“Then let’s not speak of it.” Marcus rolled over and pulled me on top of him. “Silence me with your body. Let’s use this night.”
I silenced him with a kiss. It was a good place to start.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
I looked at Harold. “Now, why don’t we go and sit on the veranda and enjoy what’s left of the cool morning. You can have a sherry to calm your temper.” I took him by the arm and marched him out of the kitchen.
“How bloody dare you,” he hissed.
“Oh shut up, Harold. It bloody serves you right for drinking rum for breakfast.”
His breath reeked of it. He glared at me with angry, bloodshot eyes. “Don’t lecture me on my drinking habits, cousin.”
I shoved him onto the veranda and pushed him into a chair. “I don’t care if you think I’ve overstepped the mark by telling you off in front of your own servants. While I’m here, and while I hold the strings to your purse, you will not abuse your staff, do you understand me?”
“By God, you can be an arrogant bastard sometimes, Jacob.”
“Do you want this money or don’t you?”
Harold’s cheeks flushed - plum clashing awkwardly with his gingery side whiskers. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You know I need it.”
“Then I suggest you refrain from treating your servants like slaves.” I sank into the other chair, still shaking with anger.
Harold reached for the sherry with a shaking hand but said not another word until tiffin arrived.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
It was a very happy day for me when Total E Bound accepted 'Stolen Summer' for publication. It was an equally happy day when they picked up 'Orion Rising'. I love the cover for 'Stolen Summer' and I had high hopes for Orion's cover. I received the artwork today and I am so deliriously thrilled with it that I can't stop looking at it. Emmy Ellis, the artist and head of TEB's Art Department has done an amazing job. The characters are more or less as I'd imagined them and the cover really captures the 'essence' of the story. If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you've probably already seen it but, hell, this cover is so gorgeous I have to share it far and wide.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Saturday, December 3, 2011
I rose. “That would be best. I see nothing but anger for both of us if you stayed. I’ve accepted that I’ll have a solitary life and it’s better that way, then I won’t feel pain at moments like this.” I walked toward the door, wanting to be away from him - the brief peace already broken.
“What happened to you, Jacob?”
“You did.” I closed the door behind me, hurried down the stairs, grabbed my coat and walked out of the house.
Monday, November 28, 2011
It's one of those cold, grey November days, the kind of day where I'd like to curl up in front of a proper fireplace with a good book, nice music and a box of expensive Belgian chocolates. Instead, I'm writing, there's no fireplace in this house and I'm buggered if I'm spending a fortune on the aforementioned chocolate.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
“How about some music?” He turned the television off.
“Music would be much better. I don’t get much of a chance to just sit and listen to music. Plus, I have no idea what you like. I’m curious because I couldn’t find your CDs when I had a nose around last night.”
“That’s because I have most things on my I-pod.” He rose and opened a cabinet beneath the bookshelves. “You weren’t nosey enough.” He set the I-pod speakers on a shelf and switched it on. “It’s just a mix of things.”
A blast of funk shook the room. Iain swore and dived for the volume switch. “Ooops. Sorry about that.”
“Return of the Mack? Are you taking the piss?”
He sank down beside me. “I told you, it’s a mix. I happen to like this.”
“I bet you put on your parachute trousers and dance around the room when no one’s looking.”
“Christ. I think I may have to leave.”
Iain edged closer and wrapped his arm through mine. “You wouldn’t dare.”“If the next song is Michael Jackson, I might.”
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Uncle Jacob peered through the sitting room window. “So that’s the artist then?”
I glanced past him at the figure perched on a stool at the far end of the paddock. Wyndham held a sketchbook and stared at the house. “Yes, that’s him.”
“Is he any good?”
“Uncle, you hired him.”
He chuckled. “Heh, so I did.”
The Captain, shook his head. “You’re getting absent-minded in your old age, Jacob.”
“You’re a fine one to talk.” Jacob returned to his seat. “You poured salt into your tea this morning.”
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Good week for me. There'll be more on that soon. Let's just say I'm a happy writer bunny and leave it at that for now. :D
The silence was broken by the thunk of a wheelbarrow in the yard.
“What was that?” Iain kissed the corner of my mouth.
“Valeria. She’s come to see to her horse.”
“The Russian girl? I want to see.” He retrieved his jeans and fastened his shirt.
“Don’t let her see you, for fuck’s sake. She may want coffee or something.” I found my jeans and straightened my jumper.
Iain lifted the blind and peered beneath it. “I bet that blonde isn’t natural. She should’ve done her roots for Christmas.”
Saturday, November 5, 2011
I put my arm around Ian and he settled against me, resting his head on my shoulder. I loved the warmth of him, the scent of him, the softness of his hair beneath my cheek. “I’m sure I’ll love the pheasant. It’s fine with me as long as I haven’t got to pluck it.”
“I skinned it and I picked out the shot, so you don’t have to worry about breaking your teeth.”
“Thank Christ for that. I like a chef takes the trouble to deal with the small things, like peoples’ teeth.”
“I aim to please.”
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
The dining room was loud with revellers, well into their main courses. Tables were littered with the remnants of cracker papers and empty bottles. I peered through the kitchen door and couldn’t help notice how the Kingston Party took up most of the dining room. We’d pushed several tables together along the wall and every seat was occupied with stable staff. Eric, his paper crown set at a rakish angle, presided at the head of the table.
“Put your tongue away,” Becky whispered. “Mr. Kingston might want you to save it for later.”
“You dirty cow.”
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
We fell silent, me thinking of green grass and a sky full of familiar stars, Billington thinking of God-knows what. I stole a glance at him and didn’t envy him his uniform. Even his proximity to the window and the punkah-wallah couldn’t erase the sheen of perspiration from his face.
“You’ll do well to get out of here as soon as you can.” He murmured, without prompting.
“I beg your pardon?”
“If you think it’s hot now, in a few weeks’ time it’ll be unbearable. There’s this hot wind that blows dust into every bloody crevice. It’s miserable. You can’t do anything much between sunrise and late afternoon.”
“So I’ve heard. I’d planned on visiting Simla before heading down to Bombay.”
“That’s a very sensible notion.” He glanced towards the veranda. “As is escaping this room before I suffocate. Are you coming?”
It sounded more like an order than request. I followed Billington onto the veranda where several other gentlemen obviously shared the same idea. They greeted us with nods and carried on with their conversation. Billington leaned against the railing and stared out into the inky, airless dark. “I envy you escaping this place.”
“It’s not like you to be so blunt, sir.” I’d met Billington at one of my cousin’s parties not long after I’d arrived. We’d struck up an easy friendship united by our love of fine horses.
“There’s more than the weather to worry about.” He ran a careless hand through his hair. “There’s rumours of trouble with the sepoys. This isn’t going to be a safe place.”
“I’d heard there could be trouble. So it’s true?”
“It’s more likely to happen than not.” He turned around and stared back into the crowded party. “If I had my way I’d tell every civilian to get out but I’d be accused of scaremongering. If you can change your plans and leave sooner, then do it.”
“Jesus. Have you mentioned this to anyone else?”
“I’ve tried but I’ve been told that everything will be fine.” He looked at me, his eyes dark with a scarcely concealed fury. “I know my men, I’ve tried to do right by them and one or two of them have told me there’ll be trouble. I trust them, I believe them.”
The dark beyond the house was suddenly seething with unseen threats. Just when I’d become comfortable with the strangeness of the place, Billington reminded me that there’s nothing easy or familiar about India. A peacock called out somewhere in the grounds – a haunting counterpoint to the echoes of laughter and music coming from beyond the open doors of the house.
“I consider you a friend.” Billington folded his arms across his chest. “That’s why I’m telling you this. Get out and get to Simla while you can.”
“I’ll do what I can.” I tried to arrange everything in my mind, work out what needed to be done before I could leave. Even travelling in India was a logistical tangle.
“Good.” He offered me a smile. “I always thought you were a man of good sense. What say we find ourselves a decent drink and do our best to avoid the attentions of the ladies.”
“Sounds like an excellent notion.”
He grinned then, a sudden fierce warrior’s grin. I pitied anyone who crossed him and wished God hadn’t made me a man.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Eric’s fingers trembled on my skin. He sighed into my mouth. Our jackets whispered against each other beneath the constant thrum of wind and waves. Eric’s tongue coiled around mine and I rested against him, finding shelter. Everything in me rushed towards him, our breaths meshed, fell into sync. We bruised each other, reaching for shared warmth, for what we’d both missed.
“Get a bloody room.” A disgruntled passerby broke the embrace. A pair of terriers yapped and ran in crazed circles around us. “This is a public beach.”
“Where’s the ‘No Kissing’ sign then?” Eric snapped.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
“Ade, you’re like a brother to me. I know you. I think I can guess. I’m thinking you’ve fallen for Cal in a big way but you’re not making a move because he’s still grieving for Jack. You’re living cheek by jowl. I’m guessing Cal likes to wander around in his undies and it’s driving you mad.”
“Well, that saves me the trouble of having to tell you.”
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Thanks to everyone who joined Marie Sexton, Talia Carmichael and I for our Naughty Threesome Blog Tour. It was a terrific 8 days of celebrating the release of our books 'Song of Oestend' by Marie Sexton, 'Ralston's Way' by Talia Carmichael and my book, 'Stolen Summer'.
It was my first ever blog tour and I enjoyed every minute of it, especially the comments.
The winner of the Naughty Threesome Blog Tour Grand Prize is:
Congrats Tiffany M. You’re our grand prize winner of theNaughty Threesome Blog Tour.The prizes you won are:
$50 All Romance Ebook ebooks bucks! (must have or create an account at All Romance Ebook so I can send the prize to you)
1 pdf from Talia’s backlist (winner’s choice of Detour, Reckless Behaviour, or A Tender Roughness)
A swag pack from Marie
1 ebook from Marie’s backlist (winner’s choice of Promises, A to Z, Strawberries for Dessert, or One More Soldier)
1 pdf of S.A.’s book Stolen Summer
Talia, Marie and myself will be contacting you at the email you provided about the prizes.
Thanks again everyone for joining us on our tour.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Hello and welcome to the final day of the Naughty Threesome Blog Tour. Today, we let our characters take over and, as you’ll see they have a lot to talk about.
Morgan enters the ranch house looking over his shoulder. “I didn’t schedule any meeting, Blayne. Who is it?”
Blayne doesn’t answer, walking away laughing. Morgan frowns, knowing that laugh meant he was up to no good.
“Cactus, I don’t like surprises,” he calls after him.
Blayne’s laughter increases. Cursing, Morgan goes inside. He makes a left into the living room. He puts his hands on his hips and scowls at the men sitting in his living room.
“Oh.... it is you two. Don’t ya’ll have better things to be doing than loitering in my living room?” Morgan growls.
Aren shakes his head. “Not really. Deacon’s off running the ranch, and I have nothing but time.”
“I thought you said there was beer,” Evan say. “This isn’t proper beer, it’s gnat’s piss.”
“If you are going to be insulting Evan, there is the door. And Aren, it must be nice that you don’t have anything to do. Too bad I can’t say the same.” Morgan turns the pauses. “Shit. If I go back out there Blayne will get pissed at me not being at least polite. Then again Blayne pissed might be a good thing.” A wicked smiled curls Morgan’s lips.
Morgan goes back into the living room and sprawls in his favorite chair.
Aren shrugs. “Proper beer or not, it’s great! The only things we have at the BarChi are water, milk, and whisky.”
Evan stares at the bottle, takes a sip and grimaces. “Sodding Colorado Kool-aid. Ah, well it’s better than a poke in the eye, I suppose.”
“Stop your belly aching,” Morgan said.
(Matt and Jared must poke their heads in to say that Colorado beer is the best beer! New Belgium and O’Dell’s do not make Kool-Aid! Now *poof*, they’re gone.)
Aren eyes the spot where the two men were. “Holy Saints. Who were those guys?”
“No clue. I guess they have a thing for Colorado beer,” Morgan said.
“Next time, I’ll bring the beer.” Evan sets the bottle down and reaches for a sandwich. “These, on the other hand, I could eat until I burst. Great beef.”
“So glad something meets your taste,” Morgan replied dryly.
“Yup, these’ll do.” Evan takes a huge bite of sandwich, scattering crumbs.
Aren sits up in his chair to address Morgan. “It’s not that I have nothing to do at the ranch, but I’m caught up on the books. I’ll help the ranch hands with the horses when they come back from the fields, but until then, my time is my own. I suppose I could paint, but...”
“No need to explain, Aren. Just pulling your leg. Until I meet Blayne I was all about work. But now I can appreciate taking time for other things.” Morgan crossed his ankles, lacing his hands over his stomach.
“So, Aren,” Evan says, “what about this Deacon chap? Give us a clue.”
“Deacon’s big and strong and rough, and if you ever meet him, I’d recommend not pissing him off. He’s basically the foreman of the BarChi. He’s in charge of the ranch hands. Once we get to the bedroom, though, I’m in charge.” [wicked grin]
“You dirty gits.” Evan grins.
“Umm...I don’t really think I want to know anymore.” Morgan winces.
“Don’t tell him I told you, though,” Aren says, looking around the room as if somebody might have overheard. “He really can’t let anybody at the BarChi know about that.”
“I definitely won’t be mentioning this conversation to anyone,” Morgan promises.
“Don’t worry, discretion is my middle name. Some things are best kept quiet. In my job, I’ve learned to keep secrets, even though it could’ve meant some bloody fantastic exclusives.” Evan contemplates another sandwich.
“Stop eyeing the food, Evan. Tell us about your man.” Morgan snags the sandwich before Evan could get it.
Evan sighs and leans back into the cushions. “He’s my best friend. He always has been. He’s passionate, bossy, stubborn. He’s also brilliant in bed. God, I wish he were here now. I wouldn’t be eyeing up those sandwiches, that’s for sure. What about your Blayne?”
“Cactus...he’s opinionated and wants things his way. But they are my way no matter what he believes. Blayne got under my skin and damn if I know how. I enjoy mussing him up. Almost as much as I enjoy goading him into losing his temper. One he tells me at the top of his lungs he doesn’t have.” Laughing, Morgan finishes up his sandwich.
“I saw your cows out there, Morgan,” Aren says. “I’ll tell you, I wish the cows in Oestend looked like that. The ones in Lanstead do, but not in Oestend. Oestend cows are big. And mean. And downright scary. I do my best to stay away from them.”
“I don’t blame you, mate,” Evan says. “The cows here are big enough.”
“Hmmm... big cows. I would be interested in seeing that.” Morgan grabs a beer taking a deep drink.
“I’m not all that keen on animals,” Evan says. “Especially goats, their meat is foul, no matter how much you try and disguise it as curry.”
Morgan spews out his beer laughing. “You are a funny man, Evan. You must have Colin cracking up all the time. ”
“You mean when he’s not trying to jump my bones?” Evan looks at Aren. “What about this Deacon chap? Does he like a laugh? And your Blayne, Morgan.”
“I have a feeling you are the one who jumps Colin’s bones, Evan. And Blayne loves to laugh. Mostly when he is up to something he knows will aggravate me. He knows I hate change- “ Morgan pauses, eyeing his unexpected guests. “And surprises but still insists on doing them. Claims it keeps me from being an ornery cuss.”
“Deacon’s a pretty serious guy,” Aren says. “Then again, there’s not a lot on the BarChi to laugh at. Except me. I’m a city boy, still trying to figure things out on the ranch. Deacon can always find a reason to laugh at me.
“Yeah, Morgan, you sussed it. I can’t keep my hands off him. Especially since...well, you know. So it sounds like we’re all with the right sorts. I wish I was home now. There’s proper football on the telly tonight.”
“And again with the belly aching. If you’ll didn’t want to be here then why did you come? I could be out working. Instead I am in here being sociable. Cactus is so going to owe me one for this.” Morgan takes another drink of beer.
Aren looks extremely confused. “What’s football?” he asks. “What’s telly? Ah, never mind. I’ll just drink more beer.”
Morgan lowers his beer staring at Aren. “You don’t know what football is? Or a television? What do you do all day when Deacon is working?”
“I paint, or I work on the books for the BarChi, or sometimes I help with the chores, like mucking stalls, although I’m still pretty slow at it.”
“If you want some practice at mucking stalls I have some you can do.” Morgan gestures at the bay window with the view of the stables behind him.
Aren laughs. “No thanks! I’m perfectly happy to sit here drinking beer! I should have brought my whisky along. I feel bad for not having anything to contribute.”
“I wish you had brought some whisky.” Evan eyes the sandwich plate. “Does anyone want that last sandwich? If you’re going to have us mucking out bloody horses, I’ll need sustenance.”
“Fine you want whisky, then I’ll get you some.” Morgan stands slamming down his beer on table. He goes to liquor cabinet and takes out the whisky, grabbing 3 glasses. Returning to his seat, he puts the bottle and glasses on table. He opens bottle and pours some in a glass then puts it back down and leans back in his chair cradling his glass. He eyes the other men. “If you want any you better help yourselves.” He drinks from his glass.
Aren eyes the whisky without much enthusiasm. “I get plenty of whisky at the BarChi. It’s that, milk or water. I buy the best whisky I can find, but the monotony does get old. Evan can have my whisky and I’ll take his beer!”
“Cheers, mate.” Evan helps himself to a generous measure of whisky and slides his beer towards Aren.
“Aren, we can go out a I’ll let you milk one of the cows. Since you are partial to milk.” Morgan winks chuckling.
Aren and Evan glance at each other then at Morgan. Morgan smiles innocently drinking from his glass.
“Why is it you keep trying to put us to work?” Evan says swirling his whisky in his glass.
Aren laughs, shaking his head. “Just like Deacon.” He winks mischievously at Morgan. “Do you like to be tied up, too?”
Morgan spews then glares at Aren. “Making me waste good whisky on such nonsense. If there is any tying, I do it.”
Aren grins knowingly at Evan. “Oh yeah. Somebody should tie him up, for sure.”
Blayne’s head appears by the doorjamb. “And we have some sturdy ropes too.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Good enough to tie you up. We’ll do it later as well as work on getting your braid looser.” Morgan smirks.
“You are obsessed with my braid. You won’t get it loose you stubborn cowboy. Give it up already.” Blayne rolls his eyes and leaves.
Morgan laughs then says to the men, “That braid of his is sexy. Drives me crazy trying to get it loose. But I have such fun in trying. Over and over again.”
Aren jumps in with obviousy excitement, “We have this ottoman in the bedroom. I like to make Deacon strip, and then I tie him to it. He’s so big, and he has scars on his back. Holy Saints, you should see him. He’s amazing. I have a riding crop, and-- “
“Whoa. Stop right there. Don’t want to know anymore. Christ you are as bad as Blayne sharing too much.” Morgan shakes his head then glances at Evan. “You have anything to add-” He puts up his hand. “But please not so much detail.” Morgan glares at Aren.
Aren smiles innocently, drinking his beer.
“Do you mind if we change the subject? All this talk of being tied up doesn’t bring up good memories for me.” Evan downs his whisky in one gulp and folds his arms across his chest.
Morgan studies him then grabs the bottle, refilling Evan’s glass. He pushes it towards Evan.
“Holy Saints,” Aren swears. “I’m sorry!
“Don’t worry about it, mate. It’s all over and done with now. I just don’t like being away from Colin, much. We’re not into any of that bondage stuff. I just love the man. I love waking up in bed with him, even though he hogs the duvet. What he does with his hands makes up for that and for him leaving his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor.” Evan glances at the clock on the wall. “Is it time to go yet?”
“Let me get you bottle of whisky to go.” Morgan stands. He pauses by Aren and whispers. “And you some sturdy rope for your kinky games.” He winks then grabs a bottle of whisky from the cabinet and hands it to Evan before he heads outside.
Blayne meets him on the porch and hands him some rope. Morgan eyes him. Blayne kisses him softly then wanders back down the porch entering the entrance to the offices.
“You’re drooling,” Aren says.
“Don’t you have a man you need to be getting to? I know I do.” He hands Aren the rope then strides off towards where Blayne went. Morgan goes into the office entrance without looking at them again.
“We’ll see ourselves out then,” Aren says, laughing and turning to Evan. But Evan isn’t there. Aren glances beyond the porch and laughs harder as he realizes Evan is already halfway to his Peugeot.
Evan glances back at Aren. “I’d offer you a lift mate, but this isn’t a Tardis. It doesn’t do alternate worlds, it’s all I can do to get the bugger round the Oxford Ring Road.”
Aren (who is quite confused by these miniature trains that don’t need tracks), says, “Don’t worry. I’ll just *poof* out like those crazy Colorado beer fanatics did.”
[And he does]
Evan eyes the bottle of whisky suspiciously, shrugs and climbs into the car. “Fuck me, that’s some strong stuff. Time to head home, I think.”
Morgan sticks his head out the door calling. “If you can’t drive then we can get you a room. I’ll take care of it later. I’m busy right now.”
“Is that what you are calling it?” Blayne’s laughter can be heard behind him.
“Don’t worry, mate. This is ‘fiction’, remember? I turn the key in the ignition, click my heels together three times, say ‘poof’ and I’m gone.” Evan salutes, turns the key in the ignition, mumbles something and the little blue car is gone.
“We’ll I’ll be damned. He was right.” Morgan turns and brings Blayne against his body rubbing against him. “ But this doesn’t feel like fiction. More like friction.”
Laughing he lifts Blayne up. Blayne puts his legs around him. They head down the hall and back to the office. Locking the door they get some friction going.
A huge thank you to everyone who joined us on the tour and took the time to leave a comment. I hope you all had as much fun as we have!
Ralston’s Way, by Talia Carmichael: http://tiny.cc/3mqw2 (available now)
Song of Oestend, by Marie Sexton: http://tiny.cc/mkqzb (available now)
Stolen Summer, by S.A. Meade: http://tiny.cc/5qsa0 (available now)
Please be sure to follow us on our blog tour. We’re keeping track of everybody who leaves a comment along the way, and on August 30th, we’ll choose one person to win our Grand Prize!
The Grand Prize winner will receive:
- $50 All Romance Ebook ebooks bucks! (You must have an account at All Romance Ebook so we can send the prize to you.)
- 1 pdf from Talia’s backlist (winner’s choice of Detour, Reckless Behaviour, or A Tender Roughness)
- A swag pack from Marie
- 1 ebook from Marie’s backlist (winner’s choice of Promises, A to Z, Strawberries for Dessert, or One More Soldier)
- 1 pdf of S.A. Meade’s Stolen Summer
Where to find us:
Tumblr: http://mariesexton.tumblr.com/ Tumblr NSFW!
Goodreads group: http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/48765.The_Heidi_and_Marie_Show
And be sure to join me for Coffee and Porn in the Morning: http://cupoporn.wordpress.com
Blog - http://taliacarmichael.com/blog