Saturday, July 30, 2016

A Flirty Dozen by JL Merrow

Title: A Flirty Dozen
Author: JL Merrow
Purchase or read on KU at Amazon 
Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs
Genre: short stories, single author anthology
Length: 246 pages
Formats Mobi, print

Together for the first time, twelve short stories of male/male gay erotic romance from award-winning author JL Merrow. Ranging from gritty to giddy, all feature two men finding their happy ever after -- or at least for now -- with a dash of the author’s trademark humour.

Read about boys from the wrong side of town, boys from the right side of town, and boys from a town you really wouldn’t want to live in. Meet a rent boy with a secret, a very earthly version of Cupid, and men with a definite tinge of the supernatural. Opposites attract, wishes come true, and old enemies find forgiveness in this variety pack of eight contemporary stories and four paranormal tales that’s a perfect introduction to the writing of a very British author.

All stories are also available as standalone e-books from JMS Books, or you can buy this collection in Kindle format only and get them all for one low price!

Contains the stories:

* Love Found on Lindisfarne
* Free Ride
* Light the Fire
* Dead Shot
* Stronger Where it Counts
* Jack in the Green
* A Ghoul Like You
* Batteries Not Included
* Making it Pay
* Trick or Treat
* Good Breeding
* A Pint of Beer, a Bag of Chip, and Thou



Finding a collection of shorts by an author I enjoy as much as I enjoy JL Merrow was a nice surprise! Turns out the singles are available, but this is a better deal. Some of the stories have appeared elsewhere, and reading them again was like greeting an old friend. So nice that they stood up to the test of time and memory.

So, I should mention that some of these stories were reviewed elsewhere on the blog. Because, old friends.

Some were new to me though, like Love Found on Lindisfarne, which both had the trademark humor and a wonderful twist to the setting and situation. The opening paragraphs set up some expectations, which… Dang, spoilers, can't tell you. It will make you smile.

Another new to me story was a Ghoul Like You, more supernatural and darker, yet with a twist that takes it out of the ordinary. This author can do a lot in a very short word count! Each individual story is probably under 10,000 words (guessing here) but there’s a fully realized story arc in every one.

Each story is a well written gem. Many are light and humorous, which is hard to as well as JL Merrow does it, and a few go somewhere darker. The order mixes them up, so the pacing is good if you read straight through. The very British flavour hasn't been edited out for American sensibilities, and a few situations will be unfamiliar, but stick with it, it all becomes clear.

If you want something to read in small savory, or maybe sweet bites, this collection is a good choice.
4.5 marbles

Thursday, July 28, 2016

A picture is worth...

What or who is this handsome man thinking about, so high above the city? Tell us in 100-1000 words (Honest, drabbles are welcome!) directions here.

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Dinner at Foxy's by Silvia Violet, Blog tour, Giveaway, and review

Dinner at Foxys Tour Banner


Dinner at Foxys Cover
DINNER AT FOXY’S
LAW AND SUPERNATURAL ORDER BOOK 3
SILVIA VIOLET
M/M ROMANCE, PARANORMAL, SHIFTER
COVER DESIGN: AJ Corza

BLURB
Fox shifter Luke runs Foxy’s Chicken Shack, known for the best and spiciest chicken in town. For months he’s had his eye on Silas, a young cop who patrols the area around his restaurant. When Silas arrives to question Luke about his cousins’ criminal activities, things blow up, literally, and Silas is injured. Luke will do whatever it takes to see his cousins brought to justice. He might not survive his crazy plan, but if he does… Could there be a chance at love for this fox shifter and his cop?

Amazon   |   ARe   |    Kobo   |   iTunes   |   Barnes & Noble



REVIEW

After Sex On the Hoof (reviewed here), I was ready for another story in this paranormal universe. Foxy's has another couple and another look at the way economic upheaval and the new reality of shifters in society are affecting the world. Again there's a law enforcement angle, with Silas, a babyfaced cop who's much tougher than he looks, and foxy Luke, whose family is definitely into some shady business.

Silas is everything Luke feels he shouldn't want and can't really have: honest, kind, human and breakable. Luke doesn't do relationships, being a love'em and leave'em guy means they don't get entangled in his dirty family secrets. Silas is going to mess with all that, and as a cop, he's already involved.

We have first person, present tense in this story, from both Luke and Silas, which pushes the story along at a quick clip. We get to see a lot more of the shifter angle than in the first book, which was a lot of fun. Luke as a fox gets into and out of trouble, and there's a fun but dangerous sequence where cop work and shifter work collide head on. These guys are hot in the sack, where their preferences fit together.  Luke especially has a strong, entertaining voice--he's bad boy though not a bad guy, and he rocks the attitude.

I enjoyed this story the more for having read the first one and knowing some of the characters. Drew the vampire detective and Jason the stag shifter crime lab tech both have secondary parts. I'm  settling into this series for the long haul,  I enjoyed the read and need the third book. And a fourth, when Sylvia Violet writes it. :) 4 marbles



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner at Foxys Teas1

EXCERPT
I’m Luke, and I’m a fox. Okay, I’m a fox shifter, but I’m also hot, a smooth-talker, and I give one wild ride. I run a restaurant in Atlanta. We sell the best damn fried chicken you’ve ever eaten. That’s right. I’m a bona fide fox in the henhouse. Our chicken comes in spicy, spicier, and fuck-me-I’m-on-fire.

The dinner shift is crazy as fuck tonight even though my best people are in the kitchen. I don’t know who decided to send me all the large parties, prize-winners for most finicky order, and downright bitchy-as-fuck complainers, but they are all out in force tonight.

I’m about to take a break. I need a whiskey, but a large sweet tea will have to do since I’m working.

The door chimes as it swings open, and I glance up, expecting another party of nine, half of them gluten-free vegans—at a fucking chicken shack—but, no… Fuck me. It’s that gorgeous blond twink in a cop’s uniform, the one who’s become a regular. His baby face makes him look like he’s playing dress-up. I want to run my hands—and my tongue—over every inch of his smooth, pale skin. He glances my way, and his eyes widen for just a second. Then his tongue slides out to moisten his lips.

Maybe this night is about to improve. Officer Blond and Surely-Not-As-Young-As-He-Looks moves my way. Oh yes. Come to Daddy.

I thought you didn’t do cops.

Sometimes I hate my fucking conscience.

Nothing but trouble there.

I’m not like the rest of my family. I don’t run guns or steal cars. I don’t hurt people or use them. But some of my business interests aren’t exactly what you’d call legal. Hell, the simple fact that I’m a fox shifter makes me suspicious to most people. However, this is one officer of the law I wouldn’t mind having a close acquaintance with.

The hottie in blue reaches the counter. “What can I do for you, Officer?” I ask.

His cheeks pinken adorably, but he holds eye contact. “You’re the owner, right? Luke Redtail.”

“That’s me.” I wink, and he glances away. This is going to be fun.

“I’m Officer Bixby, and I need to ask you some questions in connection with an investigation. Is there somewhere private we could go?”

My bed. It’s right upstairs. “I’ve got an office in the back. Let me get someone to run the register.”

As I turn toward the kitchen I see my uncle standing in the small side parking lot. My uncle who’s supposed to be dead. What is he doing here? “Oh fuck!”

As he throws the object in his hand, I scream, “Get down! Now!” I grab my cop and haul him over the counter. Thank God for shifter strength. I wrap myself around him, but in the shock of the blast, we hit the floor.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Silvia Violet writes erotic romance in a variety of genres including sci fi, paranormal, alternate history, and historical.

She can often be found haunting coffee shops looking for the darkest, strongest cup of coffee she can find. Once equipped with the needed fuel, she can happily sit for hours pounding away at her laptop. Silvia typically leaves home disguised as a suburban stay-at-home-mom, and other coffee shop patrons tend to ask her hilarious questions like "Do you write children's books?" She loves watching the looks on their faces when they learn what she's actually up to. When not writing, Silvia enjoys baking sinful chocolate treats, exploring new styles of cooking, and reading children's books to her wickedly smart offspring.

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Monday, July 25, 2016

Bonaventure and Clyde by Devyn Morgan

Title: Bonaventure and Clyde
Author: Devyn Morgan
Purchase or read in KU at Amazon 
Cover Artist: N/A
Genre: contemporary
Length: 20K estimated, novella
Formats MOBI

Handsome cowboy, meet ravishing ballet dancer.

Hunky cowboy Clyde Walker grew up on a horse ranch working side by side with the rough and tough men that ran the place. When Clyde moved east for grad school, he didn't expect to find romance with the type of guy more comfortable in tights and ballet slippers than in jeans and workboots.

Bonaventure “Bonnie” Rinaldi is jaded to pretty boys. However, as a favor to his best friend during an event at a snotty country club, the stunning Bonaventure becomes Clyde’s guide and dinner companion. Bonaventure discovers that chaperoning the smoldering stranger through the event is a nicer duty than most – Clyde is genuine, magnetic, refreshing.

Sparks fly, passions ignite. Except Clyde is Boston bound, and Bonnie’s the premier danseur with the Manhattan Contemporary Ballet Company. Twenty-four amazing hours together and endless weeks of a long-distance relationship can’t form a basis for life-changing decisions. Or can they? To make this work, they'd have to be Bonnie and Clyde...

Bonaventure and Clyde is a gay romance with happy ending, no cliff hangers, and explicit material.


I approach Devyn stories expecting a light interlude, and here, I got lightness and happiness.
Clyde (poor guy, that name!) is a cowboy with wonderful manners, his sense of social nuance is actually amazing. And so are his buns in black leather.

Bonnie’s the son of a socialite family, who probably thinks he’s slumming to be a professional dancer. They don’t have much problem with his orientation or what he does with whom, and this very sense of blasé makes for some humor.

The men were on very different paths when they met, but they’re willing to make major changes to be together. This comes across more as logistics than conflict. Given the activities of the original Bonnie and Clyde duo, I was expecting something with crime, which doesn’t have anything to do with this story. I’m not sure if this was a wasted opportunity or a lesson to the reader about making assumptions, but the story doesn’t involve desperadoes, only desperation to be together again.

This one’s definitely on the fluffier end of the romance spectrum, but I sure did enjoy imagining them dancing the tango.  3 marbles

Saturday, July 23, 2016

A Time to Rise by Tal Bauer

Title: A Time To Rise
Author: Tal Bauer
Buy at Amazon
Buy at All Romance eBooks
Genre: Paranormal
Length: 109K novel
Formats: mobi, epub, pdf

History says the Knights Templar were destroyed in 1307.
History is wrong.

Vampires haunt the sewers beneath Rome, revenants desecrate graveyards, ghouls devour helpless passersby, and incubi stalk dark alleys and seedy nightclubs in Italy’s capital. Deep in the Vatican, a brotherhood exists, sworn protectors of the earth, and they stand firm against monsters from the dark depths. Operating in secret and silence, they protect our world from the sinister, the etheric, and the evils that exist beyond the Veil.

But it’s a lonely life, and Alain Autenberg knows that more than most. His lover was ripped from him years ago, and he vowed never to get close to another soul again. Even when the loneliness presses down on him, and his empty heart cries out for something more.

Something more comes in Cristoph Hasse, a new soldier arriving in Rome to serve in the Pontifical Swiss Guard. Young, brash, and fitting in at right angles everywhere he goes, Cris struggles in the murky, deceptive labyrinth of the Vatican. Propelled forward by a past he can’t understand, Cris collides with Alain, and both men crash headfirst into the darkest secret of the Vatican…and of the world.

A guest review from Patricia Nelson

This story was the thrill ride that goes bump in the night.

Step aside, Ghostbusters! Out of the way, Angels and Demons! Move over, The Da Vinci Code! There's a new game in town, and it's crafted by the brilliant Tal Bauer. A Time to Rise is the spellbinding and awesome start to the new series Apocalypse of the Angels, and it contains everything you could hope for in a paranorma romance/thriller/action- packed book, and then packs in even more! I was utterly enthralled with this compelling tale, and all I can say is......RUN, don't walk to get this book for yourself.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

A Thousand Word Thursday scene from Kayla Jameth


Today we have a bonus sex scene from A Tested Love, from Kayla Jameth. I've been reading this series set in Ancient Greece with great enjoyment, and when Kayla said, "I have a section to share" I said YES!  This didn't make it into the final version of A Tested Love, but it's too yummy not to read. The series starts with A Spartan Love, and they're best read in order.

There's more to see of that handsome man who makes such an excellent Halys, so I'm going to put the full length picture behind a cut, along with a very sexy scene!




A Tested Love Bonus Scene: Homecoming

Aphrodite rose when Apollo did and followed him out onto the cloud-bathed portico. Eros and Himeros bowed to him and Apollo once again felt the passions they incited in his breast. Did Halys not wait for him in his bed Apollo might be tempted to sample the favors of one or both of the winged youths.

But these days, Apollo found himself more interested in mahogany skin and ebony curls. He smiled at the thought of his wanton lover. Halys could stir his blood in ways the gods of lust couldn't.

He gently grasped fair Aphrodite's hands and raised them to his lips. The delicate scent of anemones and hyacinths mixed with the hint of the sea on her skin. "I bid you farewell, Lady of Love. Do as you wish with the kryptes and his helot, as long as you do nothing to interfere with my plans for them."

"Why, Apollo! Do you imagine I would steal them from you?" Her laughter was light and filled with mischief.

"Andreas is already sworn to me and I do not believe you would tear the lovers apart. We both know what it is like to lose a mortal to whom we have entrusted our heart."

"True." She gazed over the sea of moonlit clouds. What she saw, he neither knew nor felt the need to press her for.

And if his eyes glittered as hers did, she gave no indication of noticing.

The hollow clop of hooves echoed on the pale marble. A pair of fiery steeds approached, drawing his chariot. A bronzed youth held their bridles as they tossed their heads, snorting with impatience.
Aphrodite beamed at the young man and he flushed with pleasure. Who would not with her attention focused on them?

She followed Apollo the few paces toward his chariot, her slender feet silent. She placed her hand on the youth's shoulder and trailed her fingers down his golden skin. Apollo watched as goose flesh rose on the mortal's skin. He had no doubt who would be gracing the goddess' bed in short order.
"Good even', my lady." Apollo inclined his head.

"And to you as well. Do remember me to that delightful daemon of yours." Her sweet smile turned wicked as if she were imagining just how he would do that.

Apollo's cock thickened at her words. He almost wished Halys were here with him. The show that scoundrel would give her. And she… well, she would not be offended if they made use of her temple. She would likely consider it her just due and a fitting offering.

Taking the reins in his hands, Apollo stepped up into his chariot. Aphrodite drew her youth back, and Apollo turned his steeds toward Mount Parnassus and his own palace.
***
Halys knelt on the cool marble of the antrum, awaiting his lord's return.  The doorkeeper had kept watch and informed him when his lord Apollo's chariot was seen approaching. Halys had hurried to the bench next to the door with a pile of soft cloths and a bronze bowl of warm water.

The torches guttered, throwing wild shadows on the walls. Smoke filled his nostrils and spoke of secret things, passions best shared in the dark. Had the goddess of lust and sex exerted her wiles on his lord?

Jealousy blossomed like a poisonous thing in his chest. How was a demi-god to compete with one of the Olympians?

He was still breathing heavily when Apollo strode through the brass-bound doors of his palace. His gaze swept over Halys as warm as the summer sun or the eternal flame in his temple. The heat licked at Halys' skin and he squirmed, Aphrodite forgotten. He flushed with desire.

Halys hoped Apollo was unable to see the darkening of his skin, preferring Apollo to think him more coolly wanton than was the truth.

How his brothers would tease him if they knew how unworthy he felt every time he threw himself at the god's feet. He had never dreamt that his attempts to seduce the Lord of Light would bear, and continue to bear, fruit. Halys could not afford to allow Apollo to see his insecurities, not if he wanted to keep his affections.

He would do whatever was necessary to retain Apollo's regard.

Apollo settled on the bench, sandal straps winding up well-muscled calves. Halys' mouth watered at the warm musk rising from the god's skin. With fingers eager for their task, Halys slowly unwound the leather bindings and stroked Apollo's legs. He wanted to do so much more for his lord.

Halys dipped a cloth into a bowl of warm rose-scented water and wiped the non-existent dust of his travels from Apollo's feet. He allowed his hands to wander. Apollo's muscles bunched and relaxed in his grasp.

Anyone could have performed this service for Apollo, but Halys had been looking for an excuse to kneel before him and touch the god's pale skin. He craved it more than food and drink.

Apollo sighed and leaned back, allowing Halys to ease between his legs.

Halys leaned forward and kissed Apollo's knee, working his way up his thigh. "Welcome home, my lord," he mumbled against him, unwilled to be separated from his goal. He extended his tongue and traced random designs on Apollo's skin.

His lord moaned and reached for him as his cock thickened before Halys' eyes. He buried his hands in Halys' hair, dragging his nails over his scalp. Halys moaned when Apollo grazed one of his sensitive horn buds with a fingertip. He leaned forward, rubbing the little nub against Apollo's finger.

Drawing a deep breath, Halys forced himself to concentrate. If he did not, he would lose control and embarrass himself. But even then, he almost could not resist Apollo's touch.

He ran his hands up Apollo's thighs, shoving his chiton higher, exposing him. Trailing kisses closer and closer to his prize, he breathed in the dark, sultry scent. Halys loved the way golden light seemed to shine through Apollo's alabaster skin when he was aroused.

Apollo's balls pulled up tight as first Halys' breath and then his lips ghosted over his sac. He tongued the wrinkled skin, savoring the taste of his god.

Fisting his hands in Halys' hair, Apollo drew him close. Halys moaned at the sharp tug and sucked one ball into his mouth at Apollo's insistence. Apollo's eyes fell closed as he sucked and rolled it over his tongue.

"Yes… like that…." Apollo breathed out and held him in place. Halys moaned once more and Apollo shuddered as if the sound had torn through his body. The grip on his hair loosened. "Now the other."
Halys complied, releasing one orb and swallowing the other. He reached up and stroked the first, wondering if he could manage both.

Groaning, Apollo brushed his fingers over his horn bud. Halys moaned around his mouthful and lost himself in sheer bliss as the caress went on and on.

When Halys thought he could stand no more, Apollo clenched his fingers in his curls and drew his head back. Almost reluctantly, Halys released him.

Apollo licked his lips and Halys could not look away.

"I have something else for you to feast on." Apollo turned his gaze down toward his cock, dancing fitfully in his lap.

Halys smiled. "Oh yessss…. You are ever generous with your gifts, master."

Tousling his hair, Apollo returned his wicked grin. "Shameless slave!"

"Ah… but that is what you like about me." Halys pressed his lips to the base of Apollo's cock.
Apollo groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. Halys loved forcing those raw, needy sounds of desperation out of him—like Apollo would die without his touch.

He licked along the vein throbbing on the underside of Apollo's shaft. The skin soft and warm over a core every bit as hard as the marble Halys knelt on. He pushed the foreskin down with his lips, exposing the purpled head. The girth was always a bit of a surprise.

Licking and nibbling on the crown, Halys swallowed the ambrosia welling up, the essence sweeter than life. But the droplets were not enough. He needed more, wanted to fill himself with Apollo. Dipping his tongue into the wellspring was of little avail.

Clenching his fists once more in Halys' hair, Apollo pulled him down to the root. Halys opened his throat to accept his lord. Golden hairs tickled his nose and would have smelled strongly of sex had he been able to breathe.

He relaxed and gave himself over to Apollo. His master had a fine sense for these things.

Apollo slipped one hand to the back of Halys' head, holding him still. Then once more circled his fingers around Halys' horn bud. He moaned and nearly choked on Apollo's cock wedged in his throat.

"Yes! So good." Apollo drew his fingers upward. His other hand moved to the second nub. "You can pull back any time you wish, but I will stop when you do."

Halys grew lightheaded from the caresses and lack of breath. Reaching under his chiton, he took his cock in hand. He had to hurry if he were to come before he passed out.

"Hands behind your back, scamp!" Apollo admonished.

With a groan, Halys clasped his wrists at the small of his back and sat up. True to his word, Apollo stopped stroking him. Halys only managed to draw in three huge breaths before Apollo guided him back down to his cock and—oh, thank you lord!—returned to slowly driving him mad.

"Good. So good."

Halys lost track of how many times Apollo repeated this. He was drooling and panting and unable to think. He wanted to spill his seed at the god's feet, but with his hands still behind his back could not take that final step over the edge.

"What you do to me. I never imagined…."

Apollo pushed him back, groaning as his cock left Halys' mouth.

Gasping, Halys knelt, awaiting his master's command. Apollo's cock wove and bobbed before his eyes, continuing to cast a spell over him.

Finally, Apollo stirred. "I'm not done with you yet, but I think we should continue in my bed."
***
Apollo watched Halys totter somewhat unsteadily toward his bedchamber. Served the rascal right for trying to seduce him in the antrum. Why had he allowed it? He should have sent Halys to his bed as soon as the ritual foot bath had been carried out.

How could something so new tie him in knots like this? He was an immortal, by all that was holy. But all he could think about was Halys' fingers, lithe and limber on his flesh. His sly smile doing all kinds of unexpected things to Apollo's belly.

With a groan, he pushed to his feet. His slave awaited him in his bed. More than a bed slave if he were honest. A lover to rival Hyacinthus.

When he pushed the door to his chamber open, Apollo caught his breath at the sight of Halys in all his magnificence. He knelt on the bed with his chest pressed against the mattress, his back arched and his ass in the air. Golden light shone on his naked form—all warm skin and dark good looks.

He glanced over his shoulder, jet eyes glinting and his lips spread in a wicked smile.

Apollo moaned and reached for dusky demi-god, and his cock, impossibly, hardened further. He traced the ebony stripes on Halys' back, drawing his hands over the firm mahogany expanse. Halys shuddered.

Leaning forward, Apollo kissed the back of the daemon's neck and smiled at his sigh. He proceeded to lick his way down the markings as they arrowed their way toward Halys' ass. He bit one cheek and Halys jerked.

"Oh! Not fair, my lord."

"More than fair. How can you expect me to resist something this exquisite?"

Halys chuckled and shook his head.

Apollo parted the perfect globes. "What have we here?"

Oil gleamed in the furrow of Halys' ass and coated the puckered ring of his entrance. Halys had made good use of his time while waiting for Apollo to join him.

Apollo drew a finger down the cleft and circled his hole. His body gave readily, eagerly to Apollo's probing and his finger slipped inside the tight heat.

Halys shivered and a deep groan welled out of him.

"Yes, my lord. Please!"

A dark sultry musk filled Apollo's nostrils. He knew Halys would be steadily dripping now in anticipation of his release. Halys pressed into his hand, rubbing against Apollo finger. The wanton creature would do just about anything to encourage his touch.

"You may not touch yourself without my permission," he growled.

Halys whimpered and writhed under him. "Please… lord."

"Not without my permission."

"Yes." He pressed his face against the mattress, tightening his hands on the blankets.

Apollo smiled and rewarded him with another finger, dragging both over the swollen nub within. 

Halys cried out and slammed back against him, channel clenching on him.

"Would you like more?"

"You know I want you. Do not tease me any longer."

Even as his cock jumped at the thought of taking his ebon godling, Apollo could not resist stroking that place again. Twisting his fingers, Apollo pressed firmly.

"Please!" Halys' shout broke off into a raw groan.

Apollo applied sweet almond oil to his cock, squeezing the base and pausing a moment to regain control. He intended to take his time, wring every drop of pleasure out of them both. And if Halys found sitting difficult tomorrow, he could always kneel.

"If you want me inside you, hold yourself open for me."

Halys turned his head and rested his chest on the mattress. Then first one hand and then the other crept back and grasped his ass. He pulled those perfect globes apart and breathed heavily, eyes tight shut.

Taking a moment to admire the startlingly pink flesh centered in Halys' crease, Apollo squeezed his shaft again. Soon he would be buried in the sweet heat of Halys' depths, caressed and cradled in his body. But before he allowed himself that pleasure, he would indulge Halys' desire to be toyed with, and his insatiable taste for penetration.

"In me, my lord!"

"Patience. I will give you what you need."

He whined again, but remained in place. Perhaps realizing Apollo's control was slipping.

Apollo stroked his cock down the length of his cleft and back up. He throbbed painfully and painted Halys' skin with his desire. Halys pulled himself wider and caught the head of Apollo's cock in the opening.

"There…." he groaned.

Pushing forward, Apollo dipped the head inside and pulled out.

"No!"

He pushed in, a little deeper this time, stretching the pink ring around his crown. Halys grunted. Apollo retreated again to Halys' wail. He continued his relentlessly slow invasion, completely withdrawing every time and forcing Halys' hole to spread further with the next dip.

"Deeper…. I need to feel you!"

Halys was begging and cursing in a steady stream. Apollo doubted the lovely creature even knew what he was saying by now. Finally, Apollo was deep enough to probe the secret source of Halys' delight. And probe it he did, reducing his lover to inarticulate grunts, no longer even capable of begging.

Apollo took Halys' wrists in his hands and slid them forward, holding him down as he covered his back. Biting Halys' shoulder, he drew back and pushed all the way inside. He paused and Halys shoved back with a shout.

"You will hold your release until I tell you. Understood?" When Halys shifted beneath him, Apollo repeated, "Understood?"

Halys glanced up, inky eyes gleaming under sooty lashes. Blinking like one lost in a dream, Halys opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. He wet his lips and tried again. "Yes," he croaked. "But I cannot…."

"Yes, you can. Now let me show you."

Apollo drew back and thrust deep, sharp pushes that forced Halys down against the mattress. He kept up this hard rhythm until Halys began to tighten and thrum under him. Then he slowed, gentling his movements while catching his breath.

Halys objected, his words lost in a groan of frustration. He twisted and attempted to push Apollo deeper. Pinned to the bed, panting, he could do little but accept what his lord gave him.

Kissing his neck and shoulders, Apollo began to pick up speed and drive deeper into the welcoming depths.

"Yes… yes… yes…." Halys chanted hoarsely with every thrust. He wailed when Apollo once more slowed.

"Peace." Apollo bit his shoulder again, breathing through his mouth. He could not take much more of this himself. The need to fill Halys with his seed was overwhelming. As good as delaying it would be, he would stop denying them both.

"This time." Apollo released the tenuous grip on his control. He rose onto his knees, pulling Halys up with him. With one hand on the curve of Halys' hip, he buried the other in the springy curls of Halys' groin.

Halys' cock was slippery with desire and so hard that Apollo squeezed the base to prevent him from spilling.

Balls tightening with anticipation, he slammed into Halys over and over. He barely heard Halys' grunts of pleasure over his own gasps as he gave them what they both wanted, needed.

When he could hold on no longer, Apollo stroked his hand up the length of Halys' cock, rubbing the dripping head in his palm. Halys choked off a scream.

"Now," Apollo whispered in his ear and picked up speed.

Halys thrashed and howled, ribbons of seed pouring from him. His channel clamped down on Apollo's cock in forceful rolling waves. And Apollo finally gave into his release.

With a strength that nearly stunned him, Apollo buried himself within his lover's body. Heat flooded him, cresting and spilling over into Halys, pumping him full of his essence. Apollo could do little but ride out the surge and swell, twisting in the irresistible, insatiable rush. He never wanted it to end.

But even a god could not prolong something so pure and absolute. With a great shuddering sigh, Apollo's limbs went slack, all his urgency draining out.

Halys collapsed, dragging Apollo with him. They lay there in a tangle of tingling limbs and panting, gasping breaths.


Leaning forward, Apollo kissed Halys' slack mouth. Saliva gleamed wetly on his lips. The most depraved and debauched of all creatures, but Apollo's.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, now if that wasn't a nice bit of heat! Apollo and Halys appear in both A Spartan Love and A Tested Love,, links go to reviews. You'll want to read how they get on with Andreas and Theron,




Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Sex on the Hoof by Sylvia Violet

Title: Sex on the Hoof
Author: Sylvia Violet
Purchase at Amazon
Purchase at All Romance eBooks
Cover Artist: AJ Corza
Genre: paranormal
Length: 23,000 words novella
Formats Mobi, Epub, PDF

A stag and a vampire. Mortal peril. True love.

Deer shifter, Jason Fleetfoot, has turned his life around. After years of taking chances, he’s working as a crime lab technician, and he’s determined to forgo the risky behavior of his past. Then he meets Drew Danvers, the only undead detective in the city. Jason hates vampires, or does he? Drew defies all the stereotypes of his kind and something about him has taken hold of Jason and won’t let go. Jason might just dare to take a chance on a man others would label a risk to his health if not his very life.
The first person present tense makes for a very fast paced read once you get past the lump of backstory in the beginning. It sets everything up, but the brick of “here’s where you are, here’s what’s happening” is something to wade through to get to the good stuff. It references other stories in this universe.

Shifters and vampires are known and part of society, even if regular humans are very wary of them. Society has broken down into moderate lawlessness, and everyone’s on edge. The mistrust is so thick that a vampire detective isn’t allowed to work vampire cases. His specialized knowledge, skills and understandings won’t pass for evidence in court, and the alternative may be vigilantism, so he has to just back off. Except—he can’t, especially on this case.

There’s an awful lot of sex, which is definitely of the alpha vs alpha hot variety. Jason’s a major force in his kind, even if he’s aware he’s not a physical match for a vampire. It’s a source of friction between them, because Jason’s not used to being protected or deflected. Drew should be pleased Jason’s one bad-ass herbivore.

The very pace of the read made me over run the actual resolution of the Big Bad issue twice, or it might be that sudden stop for talk annoyed me into forgetting it, because I had to read the section three times to make it stick. It’s all rather overshadowed by their need to get back to bed. Which makes this book perfect for someone who likes plot as seasoning rather than meat. Sex on the Hoof describes it well.

It’s fun, and hot, and tasty mind candy. 3.5 marbles


Monday, July 18, 2016

Angel Undone by Leta Blake, Book blitz and review

Angel Undone Banner
Title: Angel Undone
Publisher: Leta Blake Books
Release Date: 7/18/2016
Genre: Gay Urban Fantasy
Tags: angel, wings, erotic content, blasphemy, urban fantasy
Heat Level: 5
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 25,000 words in Mobi, Epub, PDF 

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Synopsis

The Archangel Michael is tired. He fought wars and shoved his brother Lucifer out of heaven all before the Dark Ages rolled around. His role as protector of Israel now encompasses all of humanity, and while he performs his job perfectly, there's little personal joy in it.

Until one night in a bar when he meets Asher.

Michael isn’t sure what it is about the vulnerable, self-deprecating Asher that calls to him, but something about the restrained depths of Asher, his gentle smiles and encyclopedic knowledge of flowers, tugs at Michael in a way that can’t be denied. Too bad romance isn’t part of his mission.

Facing an eternity of perfect submission to God’s authority, rebellion stirs in Michael. Questions of free will, angelic vocation, and the role of love and lust demand answers that just might cost Michael his place in heaven.

Excerpt

Angel wings aren’t easy to fold into the shape of human scapulae, but Michael is accustomed to the strain and hardly breaks a sweat. He forces the long primaries to bend into the upper wing coverts, and then, in moves like feathered origami, he tucks it all in again, before smoothing them under flawless human skin.

He glances in the modest hotel room’s bathroom mirror and pulls on the dark brown shirt that will set off his eyes, before running a hand through his blond, curly hair. The light of his angelic grace glows from his pores, too bright to escape notice, and with a small exertion of will he tamps it back.

Though human form is confining and uncomfortable, the time has long passed when dropping down in a blaze of angelic righteousness was appropriate. Now covert operations pay the dividends of souls delivered from jeopardy. Even if Michael’s skin feels too tight, and his wings are already aching, protection is his business and discomfort is a small sacrifice.

After tightening the laces on the leather, soft-soled Clarks he keeps for nights of trawling the Mercy Street bars, he kneels by the sliding glass door to the balcony and looks up at the stars. It’s a fallacy that heaven is up there somewhere. Heaven is everywhere all at once, and yet when Michael dons human skin, he finds his eyes drawn to the sky when he prays.

He rises. Time to go.

Review

The premise had me intrigued: much more than the usual guardian angel falls for his person story, this examines an angel’s relationship to God. The questions are good ones, and the answers—well, for that you have to read. It’s hard to discuss without spoilers. God makes an interesting secondary character.

The third person present tense gives a dreamy feeling, very suitable for being in the head of an angel. Michael’s physical being is an interesting concept: he can fold his wings into an impossibly small space and use them for shoulder blades, he can manifest physically and touchably, but he can’t or doesn’t think to adjust his facial features. His angelic glow gets away from him sometimes, which is good for a smile.

Asher is sweet. Forty years old and only now able to admit to himself that he’s gay, he’s hovering on the cusp of bad decisions, bringing Michael into his life. And Michael wants to stay.

In his turmoil, Michael consults his brother with experience, Lucifer, who’s running a surf shop on the coast. Lucifer’s funny and irreverent, wistful and untrustworthy. In the end, Michael still has to make up his own mind, and that, as much as the love between him and Asher, is where the meat of the story lies.

I think the author’s heat rating is way over stated, 5 makes it sound pretty darn kinky but it’s more of an enthusiastic 3. The sex is happiness for both of them in a way they’ve never had before. Considering that Michael originally gets in bed with Asher as part of his mission, there’s a pretty nice piece of subversion. The 5 may have been chosen for the way God is portrayed, which not may not fit with all readers' ideas of Diety, but which I was okay with.

This is a very thoughtful story with moments of heat and moments where the best of humanity comes out, in thinking and change and accepting joy, and maybe that’s the best of an angel, too. 4 marbles


Purchase

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | ARe | Smashwords

Angel Undone Square

Meet the Author

imageAuthor of the bestselling book Smoky Mountain Dreams and the fan favorite Training Season, Leta Blake's educational and professional background is in psychology and finance, respectively. However, her passion has always been for writing. She enjoys crafting romance stories and exploring the psyches of made up people. At home in the Southern U.S., Leta works hard at achieving balance between her day job, her writing, and her family.

You can find out more about her by following her online:

Website | Facebook | Twitter


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Saturday, July 16, 2016

Thorns and Fangs by Gillian St. Kevern, guest review

Title: Thorns and Fangs
Author: Gillian St. Kevern
Cover Artist: Aria Tan
Purchase at Amazon
Purchase at All Romance Books
Genre: paranormal
Length: 117,000 Long novel
Formats: Mobi, Epub, PDF

Nate is caught between two dangerously hot vampires who can compel people to do whatever they want and a ruthless necromancer who wants Nate for all the wrong reasons—and that’s only the start of his problems.

Escort Nate prides himself on two things: his ability to please his clients and his normality – living in the monster capital of the world, ordinary is rare. Hunter, a darkly charming vampire with more charisma than is good for him, decides Nate is just what he needs. Nate’s sympathetic nature and skill in the bedroom are put to the ultimate test. But Hunter wants Nate for someone else – his brother, Ben. Nate is immediately attracted by the control with which Ben holds his sensitive nature in force. Too afraid of becoming a monster to allow himself to feel, Ben struggles to resist Nate’s generosity of emotion. As a vindictive necromancer makes Ben his target of revenge, Nate discovers that making people feel good doesn’t compare to making Ben feel. As Nate’s normal world crumbles around him, and he desperately searches for a way to save Ben, Nate is unable to escape becoming the necromancer’s latest victim.

But Nate’s death is only the beginning. Coming back to life in the bathroom of Gunn, a Department Seven officer who hates the vampire family that Ben and Hunter belong to, Nate doesn’t know who to trust or even what he is. As the necromancer’s trap pulls tighter around himself and Ben, Nate is forced to let go of normal and embrace powers he doesn’t fully understand. In defiance of Ben’s vampire sire and hunted by Department Seven, Nate and Ben finally learn to trust and rely on each other. But when the necromancer succeeds in capturing Ben, Nate alone can come to his rescue.
 Guest review from Patricia

I was in the mood to read something different than what I normally do, and so when I read the blurb for this new-to-me author's book, I thought, "Why not?" Boy, I'm DEFINITELY glad I did! This intriguing tale started off hot as hell, and only got better the further I read. Just when I thought I had everything figured out, the story took a twist I never saw coming. If you want a compelling tale that grabs you from the very first page, then this book is just what you're looking for.








Thursday, July 14, 2016

A Thousand Word Thursday ficlet from Clare London


MAMIL* by Clare London


Frank looked at Vince and bit his lip. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Vince sounded belligerent. It was a difficult tone to carry off when clad neck to knee in yellow Lycra.

“I’m not sure.” Frank tilted his head and frowned. “You know I’ve always supported you.”

“But … what?”

“I didn’t say but.”

“Every damned mote of your being said but, Francis.”

Frank’s gaze ran over Vince’s form-fitting jersey, the slogan on his back from the local gay outreach scheme, the thigh-clinging leggings, the tight black fingerless gloves, then back up to his burly sideburns.

Vince pressed one of them against his cheek, a little defensively. “The sweat loosens the glue. All the Bradley Wiggins fans are wearing them.”

“I know,” Frank said gently.

“The right gear makes all the difference, you know.”

“I know,” Frank said again.

“I reckon twice around the park each morning and I’ll soon be fighting fit.”

“You’re pretty fit already.”

Vince scowled. “Finish it, Francis. Finish what you really want to say.”

“What?”

“Oh for God’s sake… you mean pretty fit for my age.”

Frank frowned. “Ever think that’s what you think, Vince, not me? You seem to go on about it a lot. We’re the same age, remember. But I don’t feel the need to wear Lycra and cycle with my arse off the seat and my head so far down on the handlebars I can barely see what I’m doing…”

“Just once,” Vince said, quickly. “Just once, I hit that lamppost. The bike was new, remember?”

Frank moved across the room to stand in front of Vince. He ran a hand almost aimlessly across Vince’s hip. Vince sucked in a breath.


“You must realise that Lycra is never going to be flattering,” Frank said softly.

“You mean my bum does look big?” A smile was tweaking the edge of Vince’s mouth. He’d turned his head so his temple rested on Frank’s forehead.

“Big and yellow, like a ripe quince.”

“Ouch.”

“And delicious.”

Slowly, a flush rose up Vince’s neck, peeking over the yellow turtle neck of his jersey. “Pervert.”
Frank chuckled. “Thank God.”

Vince sighed. His hand trailed over Frank’s as if considering whether to push it away or fold his fingers around it. “I should get going.”

“You should. If that’s your plan.”

Vince swallowed. “Is that bacon I can smell cooking?”

Frank nodded.

“And the new Italian coffee?”

Frank nodded again.

“I suppose I could delay this morning’s session–put in double work this afternoon.”

“Or not,” Frank said.

“Get thee behind me–”

“You want ketchup on your bacon bap?” Frank interrupted, apparently innocently.

Vince growled and started to peel off his gloves. Frank turned and walked slowly towards the kitchen. His hips sashayed very slightly, though he didn’t have the flexibility he used to.

Vince gave a little yelp. “Help.”

Frank turned, surprised. “What?”

“I can’t do this, Frank.”

Frank’s face twisted into a momentary expression of guilt. “I’m sorry. If you really want to exercise…”

“No, not that!”

“Huh?”

Vince grimaced, and tugged at the Lycra crotch of his leggings. “It took me 45 minutes to get this outfit on in the first place. Are you going to help me take it off again?”
-------------------------------------------------
*MAMIL = Middle-Aged Man in Lycra

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clare London's done it again! What a cute story to go with our cyclist picture! And after that, you'll want to read more of her wonderful storytelling.  This little fic is also on Clare's website on the Free Fiction page. https://clarelondon.com/books/my-free-fiction/

 You can get a wonderful present from Clare this month: A Twist and Two Balls is free at Smashwords for July 2016!  This is the first in the With a Kick series, and I can already tell you it's a fun read.


Eduardo Mancini is going to be a star of the London stage and screen. Or that was the plan. His alter ego Eddy March hasn’t got further than the chorus and a bit part in a TV series. His parents aren’t supportive, his agent can’t place his particular skills, and he’s finding it hard to hang onto his young dreams. Things go from bad to worse when he’s late for an important audition, hasn’t got enough money to pay the taxi fare, and is chased across the streets of Soho by the irate driver.

Eddy reaches what he believes is sanctuary – With A Kick, a store where ice creams are blended with alcohol and imagination, and where his friends can help him. But Nuri the taxi driver is persistent in his steady pursuit, above and beyond the money he’s owed. Despite their very different characters and background, Eddy and Nuri’s relationship goes from a complete unknown to a wary balancing act. There are still mistakes to be made, and hurdles to clear. And both of them have to admit that their life so far hasn’t gone the way they planned.

But maybe being caught by Nuri was just what Eddy needed – both for his job and his heart.
Buy Links:  amazon.com / amazon.co.uk / allromance ebooks / smashwords
         
Follow the whole WITH A KICK series at Clare’s website: https://clarelondon.com/series/with-a-kick/


EXCERPT from A Twist and Two Balls
© Clare London


He thrust his handful of money at the driver with all the confidence he could muster, and scrambled out of the cab. The uneven cobbles tripped him, and he bumped into a couple of tourists as he tried to right himself. Now he needed to scarper, and fast, before the cash was counted and the shortfall discovered. In his mind, he saw himself turn and run like the wind, like the Chariots of Fire opening sequence, though not in slow motion, of course, and without the benefit of proper sports clothing because he was in his audition gear, that is, trousers a little too tight since Christmas, and his favourite jacket that was always going to be too hot for this time of year—

A hand landed on his arm before he’d taken the first leap forward from the imaginary sound of the starting pistol.

“It’s not enough,” the cabbie said. He’d followed Eduardo out of the cab.

Eduardo looked into deep, dark brown eyes set under heavy brows. The man’s skin was dark, his jaw line and upper lip covered by similarly dark hair. Eduardo couldn’t get away from the dark theme, and he wasn’t thinking of his preferred type of boyfriend. The grip on his arm was tight and the cabbie obviously wasn’t letting him go.

“I’m late for an appointment,” Eduardo said. That wasn’t a tremble in his voice, was it? “You must let me go. At once.”

“No,” the cabbie said. His voice was strangely calm, but the deep tone made him sound so much more assertive than Eduardo. Eduardo felt a warm, roiling feeling in his gut. He was trapped! It was like one of the new breed of police thrillers, the hero chased to the end of a dank, pitch black alley, then turning to face his erstwhile attacker with nothing to defend himself except…

Eduardo tightened his grip on his messenger bag. As if that were going to protect him, as if his copy of The Complete Stanislavsky Toolkit could be used as a club, as if a selection of emery boards or his smartphone stylus could possibly morph into his own personal lightsaber. No, he was trapped, alone, defenceless, and hidden in the depths of gangland—

Except, actually, he was pressed back against the side of a London black cab in broad daylight in one of the most populated tourist areas. Even so, the trapped feeling persisted. The cabbie’s chest was broad and his biceps bulged out from under a tee shirt that had presumably shrunk in the wash. His throat was sinewy, and hair from his chest curled up and over his low neckline. With a further frisson of shock, Eduardo realised he was forced back against a flat surface by a positive bear of a man. 

Delicious. His libido was liable to wake up and lick its lips, although Eddy would have kicked himself at this inappropriate reaction if he thought his legs could work normally. Instead, his whole body was shaking and he felt more than a tad nauseous.

“Please,” he said. “I must go.” How long did he have until the audition closed its doors? Would they still see him if he were beaten and bruised, maybe even bleeding? He wasn’t sure that was acceptable for a revival of one of Noel Coward’s mannered social commentaries.

“What’s your name?” The cabbie’s voice was a soft growl in the back of his throat.

“Eduardo Mancini.”

“Spanish?”

“Excuse me?”

The cabbie frowned. “You’re Spanish?”

What? “No.”

“Yet you have a Spanish name.”

Eduardo tried bluster. “I hardly see why it’s any business of yours what my name is.”

“I will need it for the police,” the cabbie said, quite coolly.

Eduardo gaped. “You’re calling the police?”

“You owe me my fare. I cannot allow passengers to cheat me.”

“I’m not cheating you! I mean, I know I’m a little short of funds right at this exact moment, but I assure you I can find you fair recompense if you give me a little time.” Eduardo wondered why, when he needed to blush to order for a particular role, he always found it so bloody difficult. Right now, he felt as hot as if he’d stepped into the Sahara. Lawrence of Arabia, anyone? He must salt this ghastly experience away for future reference on the stage.

“Fair recompense?”

There was a strange rumble underlying the cabbie’s reply. Eduardo took a moment to recognise what the noise was, drowning out the ticking of the cab’s engine and a screech of chatter from a passing group of teenagers. He was laughing. Laughing at Eduardo!

“You are an actor, yes?”

Eduardo blinked. “Yes. I mean, how—? But yes, I am.” For a brief, bemused moment, his courage returned. He wasn’t above using his public exposure for private gain, let alone defence. “Maybe you’ve seen me act? I was in the chorus of Blood Brothers for a few weeks.” Until the proper cast member returned from his drying-out spell, that was. “What about TV? I was in an episode of Casualty last year.” He felt his head go up, instinctively showing his better profile. “And that advert for toothpaste? I’m the man who crunches the apple at the end.”

“I have not seen you on TV.” The cabbie leaned in harder, his arm across Eduardo’s chest, effectively cutting off his words. All Eduardo could do was take shallow gasps, breathing in the aroma of warm skin mixed with the hint of spicy flavoured breath. “I don’t watch TV. I work.”

Eduardo suspected that criticism was aimed at him, but was damned if he was in any position to complain. He huffed and pushed ineffectually at the strong arms, and rather surprisingly, the cabbie let him go and stepped back. But only one step.

“You hurt me,” Eduardo croaked. “That’s assault!”

The cabbie started to laugh again. The sound was loud and uninhibited, his chest shaking with it. “But yes, of course you’re an actor! You are so melodramatic.”

Well, duh. But Eduardo didn’t explain that came with the territory. He didn’t say anything, in fact, just started to back into the busy street behind him. He could cut across into Charing Cross Road and then sprint up to Shaftesbury Circus, and just maybe he’d be in time to catch the tail end of the audition and no one would know he’d only just arrived. He turned and started walking briskly away.

Two streets later, he was starting to wheeze with the effort of rushing but trying to look as if he wasn’t, when a warm, cumin-flavoured smell wafted across his senses again. He whirled around and found himself nose to nose with the cabbie. “What the hell? Why are you following me?”

The cabbie raised his eyebrows. “What do you expect me to do? Not only do you not pay the fare, but now you try to run away.”

“Of course I’m not trying to run away!” A young couple on the pavement glanced quickly over at the two men arguing, and a rickshaw cyclist wobbled on his seat as he passed. Eduardo knew his voice was too loud. He sounded borderline hysterical, too, as if he were in the last act of a Tennessee Williams play. Well, any act, to be honest: he’d always played them at drama school rather close to the emotional edge.

He turned abruptly, deciding to cut through Chinatown, but the cabbie still followed. Eduardo imagined he could hear the steady footsteps on the pavement behind him, despite the babble of other street noises. He swerved around two more corners and suddenly lost his already precarious sense of direction. Bloody hell. He realised he was heading back towards the original place where he got out of the cab. Yes, there it was, parked neatly at the kerb, lights and engine off as if there’d never been any problem at all.

And his pursuer was still behind him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now I have to read the rest of the story!  Buy Links:  amazon.com / amazon.co.uk allromance ebooks / smashwords




Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Complexity by Harper Miller (review)

Title: Complexity
Author: Harper Miller
Purchase at Amazon
Purchase at All Romance eBooks
Cover Artist: Taria Reed
Genre: contemporary, multicultural
Length: 34,600 (novella)
Formats Mobi, Epub, PDF

Fairy tale endings weren’t made for people like me. Happy for now usually ain’t in the cards, either.

The dents on my wall from where my headboard kept knockin’ against the same spot was the first clue that I needed to calm my ass down. At the rate I was racking up notches and plowing through hookups, I wasn’t ever gonna find nothing real. Guess I kinda jinxed myself. I created my circumstances. You can’t get what you want if you keep falling back into the same pattern of bad habits. But then things changed. I stumbled onto somethin’ I never in a million years expected to happen. You gotta understand, I’m never the guy who wins. It was supposed to be just sex, but that shifty, rhyming and scheming bastard, Cupid, pulled a fast one.

I may have changed some stuff to protect a couple of people. But before you go believing the tabloids, make sure you understand that you’re gettin’ the lowdown straight from the source.

I needed to get this off my chest and it’s only fair that you at least get my side of it all. At some point, I might regret telling you any of this, but for now, you need to know.

*Disclaimer* This is a novella. Not a short story, novelette, or novel. This tale features an M/M pairing. If gay erotica/erotic romance is not your cup of tea and you are offended by same-sex relationships or crass language, you should bypass this story. Content is intended for a mature audience, 18+.

Complexity is the fourth installment in The Kinky Connect Chronicles. The Kinky Connect Chronicles are short erotic stories/novelettes all wrapped up in neat little bows. These stories are standalones. No cliffhangers in the lot!

Read that blurb carefully, because the style you see there persists. The entire book maintains the aggressive stance and spelled out phonetic speech. We stay in Manny’s head in a first person present tense ride through one hot and steamy relationship.

Manny’s caginess in revealing his love interest has something to do with the glare of the Hollywood spotlight on the man who called him for a night of no-strings sex that turned into something more. However, it also has something to do with Manny’s focus—we don’t even get a name for Christopher until close to the halfway point. Christopher is an up and coming leading man, not yet secure enough in his star power to risk getting outed.

So some things you have to take on faith, like why Christopher would hook up with someone he met on a singles site that’s not so very more relationship oriented than Grindr when he’s so recognizable, or bring said hookup to a great place for causing a scene, but the chemistry is immediate and hot. The sex is gritty and primal, and the guys are great together in the sack.

Outside the sack, it’s harder, but they find a way to be together under everyone’s noses, and this works until it doesn’t any more. The story starts with this awful time and backs up to show us how they met and got involved.

Manny’s interesting: he has plans and dreams for his own business, and even if at thirty four he’d like to find someone for more than a few hours, he’s looking for it in places where a name seems too much to ask. His background is Puerto-Rican and Bronx-tough, and he’s not about to tell anyone he likes the guys as well as the ladies. His culture is very present (there’s a glossary in the back if you can’t work the words out from context). He’s also kind of blind to his own bullshit—he’s ready to take offense where none was offered and if he demands something difficult from Christopher, he sure hasn’t thought it through.

While I agree with Manny that what he has at stake should be as important as what Christopher has at stake, Manny’s putting his own needs way ahead. That Christopher doesn’t even get into the blurb is perfectly consistent with Manny’s priorities. I don’t actually like him much—he’s not exactly registering Christopher as a lover, more as a meeter of Manny’s needs and those needs better be met right now damn it.

We only see Christopher through Manny’s eyes. He wasn’t planning a relationship any more than Manny was, and is both surprised to find it happening and devastated to find it crumbling. He seems like a genuinely nice person caught in a publicity trap. The two of them take “not talking” to new heights.

The style hovered at the borderline between okay and annoying on the phonetic spellings of Manny’s narration, which was characterization but also wearing. I was happy for Manny in the end, although I’m very concerned for Christopher. I’m not sure what to make of the offer linked at the end: click to find out what happens next seems more like a “rest of the novel” than a sequel, and while the book ends on an emotional high, it certainly leaves the “what happens after that?” open, and if you don’t mind signing up you can find out.

The story is well written, emotional if only on one side, and ends on a high note. For those who have been yearning for stories featuring an MC of color, this may be what you’ve been looking for. This story’s hot and definitely spicy.  4 marbles