A Picture is Worth...

Here's something a little different -- will this merman inspire someone to do more than admire? If so, your 100-1000 words can post here, with news, covers, and links. Our last pic drew a story from Eden Winters for our reading pleasure.

And if we just want to drool -- will the ocean get a little deeper?

A Thousand Word Thursday Story from Eden Winters

How often had Howard fantasized this moment, the man of his dreams sleeping next to him? For four long, lonely years he'd watched Tucker from afar, too timid to approach a man constantly surrounded by attractive twenty-somethings. How could an overweight, balding man hope to compete, even if he did possess more hair than the object of his desires?

Now, however, it seemed that Howard did have something to offer his handsome boss – a shoulder when he needed it.

His proudest moment had occurred last year when he overheard Tucker telling a secretary, "I can say one thing for Howard, he's steady as a rock, always there when you need him." Since that day Howard had worked doubly hard to be worthy of those words of praise.

When the boss needed assistance to work late on a project, Howard volunteered. Saturdays? Seeing the boss in jeans and T-shirts far outweighed staying home with Mr. Tabbyfeet. And then, at last year's Christmas party a drunken Tucker slurred, "Howard, if you didn't work for me I'd marry you!" then kissed him, full on the lips! Could he possibly mean that? Sadly, he made no further mention of the incident after the holidays. Those words rang through Howard's head, singing him to sleep each night.

He placed his fingers to his mouth, still imagining the soft caress of Tucker's beard and wondering what it would be like to run his fingers over the man's bald pate. A soft snore sounded beside him and he reached up, softly stroking Tucker's smooth head. Lost in slumber, the man snuggled into the touch.

For two hours Howard fought sleep, determined to watch over his obsession for as long as he could, for he knew in his heart that this might be his only opportunity for such intimate closeness. Did this big, burly biker like cats? Would he like Howard's small suburban home? Howard would gladly leave his Subaru in the rain to make room for Tucker's monster bike in the garage. What would it be like to kiss him goodbye every morning, then meet back up at work, exchanging only the most professional of looks all day lest anyone learn their secret?

Tucker wouldn't need to walk into the office with a fast food bag in hand ever again. If he were Howard's, for breakfast he'd have bacon and eggs and Howard's famous buttermilk biscuits, baked from scratch with love and served with Grandma's boysenberry jam. Yes, Howard would definitely take good care of his man.

Did it mean anything that, out of sixteen employees, Howard alone had been invited on this trip? Did he dare to hope? Recalling the handsome gym rat that showed up at the office regularly, disappearing behind the boss' closed door, he knew better. The grunts and moans he'd heard often enough stated clearly who the man was.

Tucker snorted, head lolling to the side. Howard glanced around, making sure no one was watching, and then pressed his cheek to the top of Tucker's head for support. In thirty minutes they'd land and it'd all be over. And when Tucker awoke, Howard would go back to being steady as a rock Howard, always there, always dependable. Maybe one day Tucker would realize that's just what was missing in his personal life.

"Whatever you need, Tucker," he murmured, bestowing a gentle kiss on his love's brow.

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

Aw, I just want to pinch Howard's cheek and set him up with a guy who'll appreciate him. Or maybe shake Tucker.  Give Eden a high five for this little story.

Eden's been collecting a lot of things by fives lately -- five Marbles, five Ravens, and Five Stars all over, all for her new novel, Settling the Score, and five Divas for Duet!

Closeted mechanic Joey Nichols' life is good. His boyfriend landed a major Hollywood role, and is well on the way to superstardom. Joey's bags are packed and soon he'll leave small town Georgia and join the man of his dreams in California, to live out, proud, and together. Days before his planned departure, his lover outs Joey during a televised interview and announces that they've broken up, leaving Joey to face the bigotry of the locals alone.

Bestselling author Troy Steele knows all about having life turned upside down by the media. Now a recluse, Troy shuns all the trappings that come with writing books made into blockbuster movies. He spends his time exacting revenge on a former flame via his novels and hiding out in rural South Carolina, watching celebrity gossip shows. Joey's fifteen minutes of fame bear an eerie similarity to the plot of Troy's latest work in progress. What if Joey could be transformed into everything the fickle ex wanted, as Troy is writing for his fictional hero, and secretly wishes for himself? Once polished, could a diamond-in-the-rough good ole boy confront his ex, then walk away, pride intact? These are Troy's questions, and he's counting on Joey for answers.

Buy here.

The English are an evil not to be tolerated, or so Aillil Callaghan believes, and Malcolm Byerly, the Kentish tutor his father brings to the Highlands to teach his younger brothers, is no exception. Their affection for the boys and a shared passion for the violin brings the two men together, and scarlet fever tears them apart. When a Druid priestess offers her aid, grief-stricken Aillil vanishes into legend, to be handed down from one generation to the next.

Over two centuries later, violinist Billy Byerly’s arrival at Callaghan Castle for a concert feels like coming home. An old man presents him with a strangely familiar violin, and from its strings he draws melodies he doesn't remember learning. Billy doesn’t believe in ghosts, but if the tales of the Lost Laird aren’t true, then why does he dream of a dark-haired, kilted Highlander? And why is he haunted by the strains of a phantom violin?

Two violins, one love. How many lifetimes?

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Nathaniel by Jan Irving

You and your son have the saddest eyes.

Young cowboy Happy Nathaniel is struck by a need to reach out when he first meets Aaron King and his son, Samuel, so he helps Aaron find a haven at the Rocking M, far away from their strict Mennonite community. Once Sam is settled in the country school, both men seek something to spur him to speak again. But most of all, Nate also sees Aaron’s loneliness, and a single kiss is the spark Nate has secretly craved. But he’ll put his attraction on hold as long as needed, knowing there is a time for all things and that, one day, Aaron will want to dance again.

A spin-off of Luke and Sylvan

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For a mixing of oil and water cultures story, this combined a lot more like coffee and cream, with a big spoonful of sugar.

Aaron, for a man who has spent his life in a plain community, apparently splintered from the Mennonites, seems a bit technologically backwards, not sheltered from the world. He plows behind a horse not as the only way he knows, but as a choice. Finding porn on the internet seems to be one of his other tech accomplishments. For someone with a heavy duty religious background, it all seems very far away, as if he shed a lot of thoughts when he left the community.

His eight year old son Samuel, who is mute by choice, is Aaron's reason for leaving the community, he says. The boy, who recently lost his mother, has refused to speak since then. Samuel carries his own burdens, but after the initial scenes from his POV, he's much more of a supporting player. There is a big change for him, but it comes out of the blue, not out of any real development.

Nate, Happy Nathaniel, the out and proud cowboy who would like to change the sadness on father and son's faces, is the only truly vivid character here -- he'll pick a child out of a ditch without offering stupid advice, he'll dance if he's happy, and he finds the newcomer to the modern world intensely attractive.

This is good, because Aaron comes flying out of the closet with an intensity that only startles one of them. No introspection about it -- Aaron displays the sort of single mindedness  -- See! Want! Grab! Mine! normally associated with the less cerebral varieties of shapeshifters. He needs some coaching on technique, but there is no question in his mind of rightness, strangeness, if, maybe not, or frankly of anything short of the logistics of getting Nate moved in with him and his son. Hate to say it, but this wastes a lot of potential, and Aaron comes across as half a character. He doesn't question anything, least of all his own motives, because really, is the best thing for a recently orphaned, traumatized child taking him away from every single stable, familiar thing in his life?

The one working hardest to make this a story is Nate. I wish he'd gotten some help, because this could have been really good.



Buy here.

A Picture is Worth...

This pic tells a story, but what could it be? Our last Thousand Word Thursday pic got a wonderful little fic from Carole Cummings. What does this odd couple inspire? Do they know each other? Are they random seatmates? Any author who spends 100-1000 words answering that question will have that posted here, with news, covers, and links.

Think we have giggles more than drools this week.

Warrior Angel: Heart's Desire by Ryssa Edwards

Michael is the archangel of war, Banished to Earth. In the last year of his Banishment, he falls in love with Laine. But hour by hour, they're ripped apart by forces they can't control, because when Michael's Banishment is over, he'll lose Laine forever. They're given one chance. Laine must risk his life. Michael must risk his wings. What is love on the other side of forever worth?


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After reading this story twice, I am still at a loss as to what Michael finds so enchanting about Laine. The human seems to be little more than a bundle of insecurities and hotsex (from the bottom) and while a mere mortal cannot be expected to comprehend the enormities of angels, he doesn't seem to have given the issue a lot of thought, either. Perhaps his charm is tenacity and breakability.

The stakes are huge -- this is a warrior of God, after all, who's been Banished, but I don't know why. Willing to believe this is user error, but… It's kind of important, and I also can't tell what the backstory is with Aeryn, it seems to be important too.

The parts that I enjoyed are the interplay between the angels. Raphael can be peacemaker and arbiter, though at a cost, and Lucifer is sweetly wicked, tweaking Michael at every turn, and seems to have the same view of Laine that I do -- he's a handle to yank the big guy around. Time, probability, and causality are all a bit murky, which seems very fitting for a story mostly not told on the mortal plain -- the villain seems to be operating on several levels.

The ending is truly happy, a triumph of faith, if not necessarily in The Big Guy, but in love. 3 marbles


Buy here.

Splash by KIL Kenny

Alex wants to spend one more season on the family farm before he's forced to sell the property and move on. What was supposed to be a reflective time is turned delightfully upside down by Jordan, the beautiful, laughing spirit Alex finds living in the cow pond. Needless to say, a pond is not Jordan's usual hangout, and as the autumn wears on, it's clear that Alex will have to find a way to get Jordan home before the first New England freeze. But if he succeeds, what will be left for Alex?

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Alex's inheritance from his grandfather is a piece of land with a pretty little pond, where the old man spent a lot of time. The parcel is much smaller than it once was, and the pond was once a bend in the river -- and that's important, it turns out, because there's more in that pond than trout and sunfish.

Something wild and elemental that allows itself to be called Jordan frightens the bejaysus out of Alex at first, appearing more and more manlike as he comes to "see" Alex, and as they come to understand each other. What grows between them might not be love, because they aren't equals, the gulf between them is the difference between the container and the contained, but respect, caring, and enough attachment to break a heart, oh yes.

There are sweetly humorous sections, such as when Jordan allows himself to lose control over his form in an intimate moment, and an unique moment when he reorganizes to become smaller, something unprecedented in shift-able man-bits, but this being knows better than anyone that shape is not defining. A couple of finny commentators provide asides that grow more sinister, until they become irrevocably entwined in Jordan's fate.

The beginning dragged, with several pages of exposition and backstory that could have been woven into the text instead of dropped as a lump, but read past that, because the middle and the end are more satisfying. Ice freezes and melts, water in ponds turns over, and broken hopes can be mended. 4 marbles



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A Thousand Word Thursday Story from Carole Cummings

Knightly Pleasure
© Carole Cummings
~~~~
“Piper… oh, God.” Cynric set his teeth and thought quite forcefully of Gran’dam in her knickers. Because if he let himself concentrate on what Piper’s hands were doing, this would all be over before he had a chance to do much more than shove Piper into the wall and rut against him like a feral tom. He snatched Piper’s hand away from its torturous wandering, Cynric’s fingers digging in to the tendon and bone of Piper’s wrist a little harder than they should be doing; but Piper only smirked, set the tip of his tongue to his upper-lip and gave it a long, slow lick, white teeth flashing. Cynric couldn’t help the groan, nor the way heat fizzed from his thighs to his groin and all up his backbone. “You,” he growled, low and as fierce as he could make it, “have the devil in you.”


Piper merely crooked that scimitar grin, all sly and wicked. “Yes, and that’s all I’ve in me.” One dark eyebrow rose up into the heavy mass of straight chestnut fringe that hung askew over his brow. “Plan on fixing that any time soon?”

~

It was the look in those brown eyes that did it—that chill intent, that ‘Yes, I’ve beaten you and we both know it,’ that… that subtle power that could afford to be subtle, defied you to doubt it, because Piper had the skill to back it, and he didn’t care if you knew it. Didn’t care, because if you dared test it… well. Piper had always enjoyed a test.
 
~

Gran’dam in her knickers, and with Gran’da’s bony arse between her wrinkled thighs.

Cynric winced a little, but it did the job—he managed to keep himself from messing his drawers long enough to get them off and fling Piper to the bed. Piper landed with that evil little chuckle he trotted out when he was trying to prove he had the edge, and though Cynric would certainly concede the point when they had weapons in their hands, in here the edge was never a given.

~

Thrust through the forward attack then parry the sideswipe. Try not to get dragged in by that look, that face, the way the setting sun wove russet and smears of gold through rich chestnut. Deflect the advance and feint in with a compound attack then spin through the dodge and cross. Try not to note the way shadows spilt themselves over the angular face, anointed it sharp and transcendent, almost sanctified, like even they couldn’t resist the touch.
 
~

Gran’dam without her knickers, and Gran’da—

No, not helping.

“Cyn,” Piper panted. “Cyn… God, yes, that’s…”

Long, strong legs wrapped about Cynric’s ribs, squeezed. Deceptively slender arms slid about his neck, pulled him in. Cynric dipped down obediently, sank his teeth into the thick muscle that ran from Piper’s neck to his shoulder, and groaned as Piper’s hips snapped up and back, Cynric’s own following helplessly. He’d wanted to keep the rhythm slow, wanted to draw it out, make it last, torture Piper just as ruthlessly as Piper had tortured Cynric in the tournament, but he couldn’t keep from sinking deep, over and over again, long, slow strokes turned to faltering drives from one moan to the next.

“Yes, yes, Cyn, bloody fuck, so good, it’s… you’re… God so—”

“Piper,” Cynric groaned, breathless and desperate, “shut up, I can’t—”

Cynric gave up on making sense of the demand—plea—and just shut them both up with a kiss, because it was fast reaching a point where ‘control’ was just another nonsensical word inside the tempest of heat and sweat-slick skin and brutal sensation that was Cynric’s world right now.

Can’t hold out when you beg like that, can’t keep from fucking you so hard neither one of us will be able to sit a horse for a week.
 
The muted squeak of the bed’s rope supports, the thin whine of the mattress’s ticking—a weird, cacophonous discord that wound through Cynric’s head and melded with Piper’s gasping groans, his whispered supplication. Met and twined through the sensation of Piper’s body, against and around, rocking up and back, swamping Cynric’s senses and pummeling them into nothing but animalistic need.

~

The glint of the sword, the honed tip leveled right at Cynric’s throat, the failing burnt-ruby of the sun slanting off its silver-blue edge like a stain of blood. Cynric stubbornly set his gaze to the leather bindings of the vambraces, the stitching of the gauntlets, the dip and curve of chest-plate and hauberk—anything but those eyes and what he knew to be waiting behind their cool invitation, that mouth and its flat challenge:
 
“Do you yield, Sir Lindley?”
 
~

A sharp cry slid up Piper’s throat, and he arched, head thrown back, eyes locked to Cynric’s and anything but cool—a welter of warmth and passion—before they closed and Piper came. “Cynric… Cyn… ah!”

Cynric watched for as long as he could, rapt with the sheer beauty of abandon, the heady possession, the surrender, before he had no choice but to follow. Bright-white fire closed him in a tight fist as his body pulsed and thrashed, throat grinding out graveled curses, and Piper wrapped about him, holding on, tricking a few more shudders and jolts loose with a wicked twist of his hips.

Piper’s hands on his back, stroking, and Piper’s voice in his ear, whispering— “So good, Cyn, love you so much,” —and Piper’s body beneath his, a firm line of sinewy muscle strapped directly to the bone.

Do you yield, Sir Lindley?
 
Oh, God, yes.

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Faints from the amazingness of this story! Thank you Carole! 

Carole’s book Aisling Book One: Guardian, was a 5 marble review here, and after reading this story, you know exactly why!  Part Two: Dream, is due out this June, and I can hardly wait.  To get yours in print or ebook, click here for Prizm or here to shop at Amazon.  

For more news on Carole’s work, check her website/blog.

Road Songs by Tracy Rowan

Sam knows that life in Kansas offers no real future. In an act of desperation and faith, she puts everything she owns into her car and goes on the road looking for something better. When she sees Cody hitch-hiking in the middle of nowhere, Sam's better instincts tell her to drive on by, but Cody's tight-fitting jeans win his way into her car, and his silver tongue wins his way into her bed.

The two of them burn up the B&B bed for a night, but in the morning it's clearly over. They go their separate ways only to rediscover each other in Chicago, Sam has found a job and a good friend in Scott who, surprisingly, also knows Cody very, very well. Can the three of them find some way to temper the almost unbearable heat that burns among them, or will they burn each other out?

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I’m discovering a taste for ménage, just as long as all three players are interesting. One pair of any variety with a clap and cheer section won't cut it -- This one's solid.

The POV character is Sam, twenty six and with a lot of relationship bad examples in her youth to learn from. She doesn't take anyone's crap, and if she doesn't know exactly what she does want, she damn sure knows what she doesn't want, and if you insist on giving it to her, she's out of there. I like her. I'd hug her except she'd probably punch me one.

And while she's out finding out about the world and working in the restaurant business, she has the great good fortune to meet Cody, and wow do they click, until -- he's not there. And Sam being Sam, she's all "oh well" and off to the next new thing, which is Steve's restaurant in Chicago, and Steve turns out to be the best friend she could ask for.

I did say this was ménage. So there's a goodly chunk of the hot stuff (lucky Sam!) and the inevitable sorting out of a threesome. And it works great, it works unexpected, and if you tell Sam that's not the ending you wanted, she'll just give you the finger.


Buy here.

A Picture is Worth...

This one's a little different -- I know there's a story for it, but we're all going to have to get our puddles of drool mopped up so we're ready to read. Last week's pic brought a story from Berengaria Brown, and this week, well, I'm going to leave you all in suspenders a bit, and one never knows, there could be more inspiration. Watch this space...

Tortoise Interruptus by JL Merrow

Cursed by an impatient witch to turn into a tortoise at inopportune moments, Tip is horrified to find himself tortoise-napped by a customer at the cafe where he works.

Things start to look up when Tip ends up very literally in the capable hands of drop-dead gorgeous Steve -- but Tip soon begins to wonder just how far he can trust Steve, who turns out to have a close connection with his kidnapper. Tip's attempts at a normal life seem doomed to remain frustrated in more ways than one!
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Sweet and funny -- the title alone made me giggle, and poor Tip's adventures ping-pong from silly to sillier. Anyone who becomes a tortoise at irregular intervals and for unknown lengths of time is going to burn out his ability to blush -- or wish he could. From musings on the sensation of switching form, which Tip fears makes him look foolish, to the hazards faced by the suddenly six-inch tall, mute, and unable to jump, this story made me laugh out loud every few paragraphs.

Vertical space has a different meaning to the suddenly be-carapaced -- Tip gets shoved into a handbag willy-nilly, faced with the equally awful prospects of changing back with only a coin purse for a possible fig-leaf, or not changing back, to be carried miles from his home, clothing, and only semi-sympathetic family. Fortunately, Tip encounters Steve, with similar reading tastes and a certain empathy for Tip's plight, and perfectly gorgeous to boot.

Long on humor, perfect on romance, this short story is a lovely pick-me-up for a sour mood. If Steve and Tip get further adventures, I want to be first in line. 5 marbles




Buy here!

A Thousand Word Thursday Story by Berengaria Brown

 


“Have you any idea how heavy you are with all those stupid gold roses on your clothing and my bridle? And you’re no lightweight, even without all that fancy armor. Why couldn’t we take the train and wear jeans like normal people?”

“George, you’re a horse. People don’t take horses on trains. Besides, it’s our duty to rescue the beautiful damsel from the wicked dragon. I’m a knight. It’s my job.”

“I am not a horse. I’m a man who occasionally becomes a Golden Palomino to help you fulfill your destiny. We could travel on the train as humans. With your help I could stay unshifted long enough to get to the dragon’s lair.”

“Uh-huh. Suuuure you could. Wild, naked sex is the only thing that stops you from turning after two hours. On a two-day train journey, do you really think no one would notice us having sex every two hours? Besides, by the time we arrived at the dragon’s lair we’d both be far too tired to rescue the beautiful damsel in distress.”

“Okay, okay. So what do we know about this damsel?”

“Well, she’s the youngest daughter of a king from a distant land.”

“They always are.”

“She’s stunningly beautiful.”

“Of course. No self-respecting dragon would kidnap an ugly princess, Roland, you know that. The problem will be after we rescue her, if she expects you to marry her like the last princess we rescued did. That was a delicate situation there for a while.”

“Thank God, her catching us making love beside the crystal brook was enough to send her back into the arms of her devoted swain.”

“Huh, devoted swain, my ass. He didn’t rescue her. He left that to us to do.” George snorted and whinnied, shaking his long white mane in the frosty air.

“We’d better take cover. Those black clouds look like it’ll thunder very soon. There should be some caves just ahead.”

“Caves. Why can’t we stay in an inn?”

“Don’t you want to snuggle a little tonight? How could we do that in an inn? Horses stay in the barn, remember.”

“Some snuggling sounds good. I think I can rise to the occasion.” George picked up speed, galloping toward the cave.

Roland put all thought of rescuing the damsel in distress on hold until after some wild naked sex with George in his human shifted form.

© Berengaria Brown 2011

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Thanks for putting some giggle into my day!

Berengaria’s second print book released on 7 April. “Sizzling Vacations” contains three of her novellas out at Ellora’s Cave: “Dance for Three”, “Double Satisfaction”, and “Summer Sizzle”.

Each story centers around a vacation where the characters learn about each other and their relationship. Find them here.
 
Berengaria Brown is a multi-published author of ménage, MM and FF: contemporary, werewolves, vampires, ghosts, and two Regency-set historicals.

Find out all about Berengaria and her latest news at  her blog and website.

A Picture is Worth...

I have it on good authority that this knight's name is Sir Generatesastory. He might go by Roland or Clovis when he's at home, but maybe someone will clear that up for us. Jenna Jones told us the story of the gymnasts this week, and Em Woods explained all about the man with a kitty, who has a more martial thought?

For anyone who writes 100-1000 words about chivalry, sex, (or chivalry with sex), I'll post it with your latest news, links, and covers.

And the rest of us will wonder what sort of small-clothes belong under armor.

Thousand Word Thursday Story from Jenna Jones

Stop and Stare by Jenna Jones

Reo's powerful body circles over the pommel horse, the muscles in his arms and back straining as he swings his legs from side to side. He grunts with the effort, brows furrowed in concentration as he goes through his routine, never pausing or hesitating as he moves from one position to the next. Reo's agility is mesmerizing on all of the equipment, but on the pommel horse especially, those amazing arms manipulating his body in a seamless rhythm from one position to the next.

Jeremy tells himself his blatant staring is in appreciation of Reo's strength and grace, but it's more than that. Watching Reo makes Jeremy want to pull him aside, get him alone, enjoy all the other wonders that body can do. He loves the feel of those deltoids under his tongue, his arms wrapped around those biceps, the fierce meeting of their thighs. He lives for the sensation of the ridges of Reo's abdomen against his cock, the taste the post-practice sweat on Reo's skin.

When Reo's intensity focused is entirely on him, when he gazes into those dark eyes, runs his fingers through that thick hair, it's like … well, like watching one of Reo's routines. Breathtaking.

Reo dismounts the pommel horse, arms raised over his head and back perfectly arched. A few of their teammates applaud, which Reo acknowledges with a laugh, and his eyes meet Jeremy's. His smile grows tender as he crosses the gym.

"What did you think?" he asks Jeremy, dusting the chalk from his hands.

Jeremy says softly, "You're perfect," and he can't keep the lust out of his voice. "Are you ready to call it a day?"

"Yeah," says Reo, smiling crookedly. "Are you?"

"Yeah." He should have spent more time practicing his parallel bars routine instead of ogling Reo, but he figures the exercise from sex will at least help his muscle tone.

"Meet me in the locker room."

Jeremy glances around. Nobody on the team has said anything even though Jeremy knows he's completely obvious, what with the staring and how hard it is to keep his hands off Reo, and all Coach has said is No Sex in the locker room showers but he said that to everyone. "See you there," he whispers. Reo starts for the locker room, smiling at Jeremy over his shoulder.

Jeremy takes a few minutes just to breathe before he follows.

He finds Reo in the showers, water sluicing down his body. Reo slants a look at Jeremy as he splashes water over his chest, inviting him in. Jeremy strips off his own shorts quickly and leaves them on a bench, and joins Reo under the hot, needle-like water.

He darts in for a kiss but Reo stops him with an amused yet solemn, "No sex in the shower," his finger on Jeremy's lips.

"Right," Jeremy says, just as solemnly. "No sex." Instead, he washes palmfuls of water over Reo's skin as Reo does the same. His hands may linger on Reo's abdomen, the muscles that cap his arms, his strong shoulders, but when you have permission to touch something that beautiful as much as you want, why not take full advantage of it?

Reo touches Jeremy just as gently, fingertips tracing the muscles in his chest and the curve from hip to thigh. He doesn't couch Jeremy's cock, but he gives Jeremy a look from under this dark lashes that says it's taking all his willpower not to. He holds Jeremy's hips, framing them with his hands, and leans in to inhale up Jeremy's throat.

"I love how you smell after a workout," he whispers and kisses Jeremy's ear. Jeremy shivers as his hands push into Reo's hair.

One of their teammates -- Ari, who likes practicing his floor routines to Metallica -- comes into the next shower, whistling. He hangs a towel over the low tiled wall between the showers and the rest of the locker room and gives Jeremy and Reo a wink. "Behaving, boys?"

"Of course," says Reo primly. "Are you done, Jere?"

"All done, Ree," Jeremy says. Reo pauses as he grabs his towel and looks back at him with a clear, Ree? in his raised eyebrows. Jeremy just smiles and ducks his head under the spray for one last soak, then shakes the water from his hair. He grabs his towel and follows Reo.

End.

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Thank you, Jenna, for giving our gymnasts a story. I never did think that guy in the back had his mind on his workout. ;) Jenna has an assortment of stories at various lengths at Torquere, including the Apples and Gin stories, Herbs de Provence, and Chiaroscuro.

Jenna's latest is a short called Learning to Waltz.

Conor was hired by the Todd family to keep Gabriel safe and sober. Conor has done his job so well that Gabriel no longer needs a caretaker, but they can’t bring themselves to part ways.

Gabriel and Conor live in a comfortable rhythm, pushing and pulling each other in a cautious dance. Conor doesn't think he's Gabriel's perfect partner, but Gabriel may have other ideas…

Find Jenna's stories here, and her latest news on her blog.

Settling the Score by Eden Winters

Closeted mechanic Joey Nichols' life is good. His boyfriend landed a major Hollywood role, and is well on the way to superstardom. Joey's bags are packed and soon he'll leave small town Georgia and join the man of his dreams in California, to live out, proud, and together. Days before his planned departure, his lover outs Joey during a televised interview and announces that they've broken up, leaving Joey to face the bigotry of the locals alone.

Bestselling author Troy Steele knows all about having life turned upside down by the media. Now a recluse, Troy shuns all the trappings that come with writing books made into blockbuster movies. He spends his time exacting revenge on a former flame via his novels and hiding out in rural South Carolina, watching celebrity gossip shows. Joey's fifteen minutes of fame bear an eerie similarity to the plot of Troy's latest work in progress. What if Joey could be transformed into everything the fickle ex wanted, as Troy is writing for his fictional hero, and secretly wishes for himself? Once polished, could a diamond-in-the-rough good ole boy confront his ex, then walk away, pride intact? These are Troy's questions, and he's counting on Joey for answers.

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I had to read this one twice, once because it was just such a good time and once to be able to talk about it.

I am completely in love with the entire ensemble -- Joey, the small-town mechanic who gets taken for a ride and being a trusting soul who has to find out if he can do it twice, Troy for being the sort of plotter who gets carried away and has to find a way back. These two work together and at cross-purposes, and every time they get it right, whether it's getting into a workout routine together (Troy had planned to take notes on the torture) or when Joey finds a way to honorably get what he wants so badly, it's another 'aw' moment. And when someone screws it up, it's nail-biting time until things are made right.

The secondary characters are wonderfully well drawn too, one of Ms Winters' trademarks. Joey's family is staunch and loving even in the face of some uncomfortable truths and the grief other people give them, and a real hoot when they are pressing the point. (Big Joe and the moonshine, oh Lord!) And Erica -- omg, Troy's assistant is a little powerhouse, and I never, ever, ever want to cross her or anyone faintly like her. She pulls a lot of strings, even if she's not quite sure what they're attached to.

Even the villains of the piece, Joey's and Troy's untrustworthy ex's, have some charm, and it's a pleasure to see karma come home to roost. Joey, too, gets a piece of his own back in other quarters and without Troy's help, and it's a great piece of character growth.

After his actor lover, 'Riker', plays Joey for a fool and dumps him in the most awful way imaginable, Troy brings him on as an assistant, for research in a book and for Joey to get a chance to get even. There's a lot of history in Riker's direction, though, since he dumped Joey in a career enhancing move, for Ian, a Hollywood producer. He's also Troy's evil ex who obtained control of Troy's projects, changed them beyond recognition, and left him.

Books and screenplays were the only children he[Troy] ever hoped to have. Ian dressed them in skimpy clothing and stood them on a street corner.

Troy should be forgiven for seeing, about halfway through the story, that there is a bigger piece of 'even' to be gotten at the same time. Without stretching his hand one inch farther than he already has, Troy can get some of his own back against Ian, and if Joey thinks that's been Troy's motivation all along, he'll have to find out for himself how wrong that is.

Unfortunately for both men's sense of honor, this employee/employer relationship has some minefields, so getting the two through UST territory needs some time. The tabloid interest in all four men is a lot to cope with for any fledgling relationship -- Joey gets more spotlight than he ever had nightmares about. And when the final showdown happens, Joey is every bit the Hollywood shark he'd feared would eat him.

None of this sounds particularly funny, yet I found myself laughing aloud every few pages, when some delightful image or situation came along. I have pages of wonderful little quotes that wilt out of context, but they keep what could be a heavy dramatic piece lighthearted and yet pointed. It's kind of hard to narrow it down to 'best of' quotes, so just go read the whole danged thing for yourself, you'll be happier than the possum eating briers. 5 marbles



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A Thousand Word Thursday Story from Em Woods -NSFW

A little bit of hawtness from Em Woods, who found inspiration with this charming pair!

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Blair leaned against the door jam, taking in each inch of his lover’s golden skin on display in his bed. He never ceased to wonder at the differences between them. Though they were roughly the same height, where Sol was tanned, Blair was pale and where Sol had toned muscles under miles of perfect skin, Blair was slender with freckles scattered everywhere. Though most days he hated it, every ounce of Blair’s Irish heritage showed. Right down to the red hair and green eyes.

Working his gaze along the smooth, hairless body of his lover, Blair grinned when their eyes connected. Well, he was almost hairless. There was a precocious bundle of fur snuggled tight in Sol’s arms.

Just where he wanted to be.

Sol crooked a finger at Blair, the deep chocolate of his eyes darkening to black with desire. “Come over here.”

Blair shook his head and stayed where he was. “I’m not disturbing Sheba. We both know she’ll destroy a pair of my shoes if I so much as touch her.”

“Fine.” Sol’s eyes narrowed slightly as he nudged the tabby cat from her cocoon on the bed, murmuring promises of tuna later. “You stay there then.”

Blair’s cock thickened at the seductive arch to Sol’s body, and when Sol slid his hands across his chest to tweak his nipples, Blair sucked in a deep breath to keep himself from launching onto the bed.

Sol winked at him, a tiny curve at the corner of his luscious mouth. He didn’t waste much time on the sideshow, for which Blair was grateful. How embarrassing to come just over Sol playing with his nipples? But it was nearly over anyway when Sol wrapped one hand around his cock, a low moan escaping his parted lips.

His legs spread and Sol sucked one finger into his mouth, slicking it with his spit.

Blair whimpered as Sol dipped that hand low to tease the rim of his hole. Blair let his head fall to rest on the cool wood holding him up, his hips rocking with the rhythm of Sol’s strokes as he put on a show for his lover.

When Sol pushed the tip of his finger into his ass, the moan he treated Blair to vibrated along Blair’s nerves. The last of Blair’s control evaporated.

Sol’s eyes widened, the teasing glint disappearing with the distance between them. Blair gave him enough time to pull his fingers free before gripping Sol’s ankles and pulling him to the edge of the bed. “You want to play, a’lainn, my beautiful one?”

“You were the one playing hard to get.”

Blair slid his hands along the muscles of Sol’s legs, spreading them as he went. He tucked his hands under Sol’s ass and pulled him close, kissing the entry to Sol’s hole, thrusting just enough to give notice.

Sol sucked in a deep breath and rocked his hips with the next push forward, letting Blair sink into the tight heat of his lover. Both men moaned as the rigid length of Blair’s cock filled Sol.

Giving them both a moment to adjust, Blair dropped his head back to take a deep breath.

“Move.” Sol’s soft command set Blair into motion.

Blair’s grip was bruising but the rush along his veins called for hard and fast, his lover’s cries stirring the lust flooding his body. He pounded stroke after stroke into Sol, riding the wave, his back arching as he felt the constriction of Sol’s body around his cock.

Sol’s fingers weaved through Blair’s hair, jerking his face to Sol’s. “Come.” The fierceness of Sol’s order sent Blair’s release rocketing from his cock, filling his lover’s ass with his cum. Sol’s lips crashed against his, teeth and tongue muffling Blair’s cry as his prick pulsed inside Sol.

When Sol finally allowed them to part for air, he nipped Blair’s lower lip, chuckling lightly at the hitch of Blair’s breath. “Let’s come to an agreement, my heart.”

Blair looked down at Sol as he slowly pulled out of his lover’s body, one eyebrow creeping up as he waited for Sol to continue. “Yes?”

“Promise to never refuse me again, and next time, I’ll tell my sister to find another sitter for her cat.”

“That we can agree on, my a’lainn.”

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Em has more yumminess waiting for us; here's the blurb for Chocolate Dreams.

One part lover-running-scared plus one part sexy-Italian-chocolatier equals the perfect Valentine’s Day recipe for love.

For as long as the doors to Chocolate Dreams have been open, Joel Raner has been stopping every night on his way home from work to get his ritual treat. They're always ready when he gets there and always handed over by the chef himself.

Chocolatier Aaron Neilson takes the time out of his day to talk to the handsome accountant, not for the sake of his business, but because the more he gets to know Joel… the deeper Aaron falls in love. When the Lovers’ Holiday rolls around, Aaron decides it’s time to make his move.

Will Joel see the love waiting right in front of him or will Cupid’s arrow miss this Valentine’s Day?

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Find these and more of Em's stories here at Total E-Bound, and more news and goodies at Em's blog.

Leather Nights by Patricia Logan

When widowed, jobless, and about to be homeless Jake Maxfield inherits his Aunt Becky's home in Texas, the California native uproots his teenagers and moves. Still trying to rebuild his career after the mortgage crises, and to reconnect with the kids he's been too busy for, the last thing Jake is looking for is love. Especially with a man.

Cade Littlebear isn't looking for love either, but he and Jake have an immediate attraction that neither of them are able to deny. Just when they think that combining their lives and their teenaged families is going to be their toughest challenge, their very existence is threatened by narrow-mined bigots. Their determination not to hide who they are and refusal to live in the shadows only adds fuel to the fire. Can Jake and Cade survive and bring their lives and families together? Or will hatred win the day?


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Nearly broke, recently widowed, and out of work and prospects, Jake Maxfield needs a break, which comes as a legacy from an elderly aunt. Of course, to use it, Jake has to uproot his teenaged kids to Westburg, Texas, where he'll meet an assortment of characters from the aging beauty queen accustomed to getting what she wants, to the pick-up driving redneck bigot, to the part-Indian and totally scrumptious Cade Littlebear, who he feels an instant affinity and horrifyingly immediate attraction to.

For a guy who spent twenty some years in a comfortable marriage, Jake comes flying out of the closet pretty dang fast, which he spends some time musing about. The kids take this with a pretty even temper, the son, Thad, is initially upset but gets over it really fast, and Gracie, seventeen, is all whatever makes you happy, daddy, about it. The kids, described initially as high maintenance, are actually about as self-raising as biscuits, and so perfect I want to graft them onto some teenagers I know.

Cade himself, an ex-SEAL, and product of a disastrous childhood, feels the attraction back, and from early on, it's all pet names, phone sex, (which is really hot) and getting to blend the two families -- he has a teenaged daughter and a feisty sister, and it looks like they might make it. The two men trying to get some gropage in without alerting the kids is one of the big charms of the book.

This is a book of extremes, and the author seems to be trying to cram both ends of the spectrum in at the same time. Cade's childhood of learning not to trust and then military stoicism (note to author, SEALs have an 80% washout rate in training, and they need 2 and a half years of it before they can do their first mission, this leaves a mark, plus how the hell did he have so much time to futz around in the motor pool?) doesn't keep him from being touchy-feely and full of pet names. Jake being this close to broke and desperate, can still peel off a twenty to flush away in mindless entertainment without so much as a thought, and turn away from an opportunity that will keep his kids eating. There's mega-love inside,  mega-hate outside. There's instant reinvented for themselves BDSM, which seems grafted on and a lot more like riding a trend than adding anything substantial to the story, which was all about redefining yourself, learning to love in a new way, making a new family, and surviving the outside world, until that last sex scene.

And still, this book works better than it has any right to. I read it in one sitting, in spite of myself, and have been thinking about it, at least partly with pleasure. 3 marbles




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