Disponible en español: Eternamente Joven (vampiro, homoerotico) por Jeff Erno!

Eternamente Joven23Eternamente Joven
Autor: Jeff Erno
Género: Juvenil-M/M-Vampiros
Extensión: Novela
eISBN: 978-1-937796-79-2
MSRP: 7.99
Precio: 4.99

Enlaces de compra: Kindle Espana|Kindle Mexico|Kindle US|BN Nook|AllRomance Ebooks|Google Play|Kobo

En menos de un verano, el tímido e introvertido Robbie Myers pasa de tener dieciocho años y no haber sido besado nunca a la apasionada intensidad del primer amor que podría durar eternamente. Literalmente…

Robbie Myers de dieciocho años de edad tiene dificultades para hablar con la gente. No solo es tímido, sino que parece decir algo equivocado cada vez que abre la boca, sobre todo al apuesto desconocido y misterioso que se presenta en su trabajo del supermercado, lo defiende de un compañero agresivo y luego le pide una cita. No puede creer que un atractivo y mundano chico malo de diecisiete años de edad, Colt Abernathy esté realmente interesado. Sin embargo, no puede negar que el fervor ardiente en los ojos oscuros de Colt es solo por él. En cuestión de un instante, Robbie es apartado de su plan de asistir a un colegio comunitario mientras que vive en casa con su madre y ahorra para un coche, hasta la tierna y ya apasionada exploración de un intenso primer amor. Poco sabe Robbie…

Convertido durante el apogeo de la Guerra Civil, Colt ha quedado atrapado en el cuerpo de un solitario chico de diecisiete años de edad. Cuando ve al joven delgado, de pelo rubio, y ojos azules, empujando una fila de carros de la compra al otro lado de un aparcamiento, Colt sabe al instante que están destinados el uno para el otro. Solo hay un problema mayor: si sobrevive a la batalla inminente entre los vampiros y los Matarianos –un ejército de brutales cazadores de vampiros– va a vivir para siempre. Robbie no es…

Extracto:

Cuando Robbie salió, decidió esperar un par de minutos para ver lo que pasaba con Jerry. Si realmente fuera despedido, Robbie le vería salir. Se quedó junto a la entrada, donde seguía teniendo una visión clara de las cajas a través de la ventana. Unos tres minutos más tarde, vio a Jerry regresar a su zona de trabajo. Comenzó a correr de acá para allá, reponiendo las bolsas para los suministros en los pasillos de las cajas. Robbie se sintió aliviado. Al parecer, a Jerry no le habían echado. Probablemente solo hubiera sido sermoneado y advertido con severidad por Wandrie.

A la mayoría de los chicos que trabajaban en la tienda no les gustaba el Sr. Wandrie. Todos se burlaban de él a sus espaldas, posiblemente solo porque era el jefe. En opinión de Robbie, el Sr. Wandrie era un tipo bastante decente. Había días en los que el hombre parecía un poco gruñón, pero eso era así para todos.

Robbie se preguntó por un momento si el Sr. Wandrie había oído a Jerry llamarle maricón. Bueno, debió haberlo oído. Eso había avergonzado a Robbie, y esperaba que el Sr. Wandrie no se formara una idea equivocada sobre él. Así es como los tipos como Jerry llamaban a los demás, especialmente cuando estaban furiosos. En realidad no significaba nada. Era como cuando la gente decía que algo era “gay” solo porque no les gustaba. Era una forma de hablar o algo así.

Para ser sincero, había herido sus sentimientos. No entendía por qué Jerry había dicho algo como eso. Era tan obvio que era…

—¿Todavía estás aquí?

Robbie dio un salto, sorprendido por la voz detrás de él. Se volvió para enfrentar al chico que había visto antes, el que tenía la chaqueta de cuero.

—Oh Dios mío, me has asustado.

—Lo siento, tío. —El chico de la chaqueta de cuero se rio—. No fue mi intención acercarme a ti sigilosamente.

—Pensé que Jerry iba a ser despedido —dijo Robbie—. Le llamaron a la oficina del gerente.

El chico asintió con la cabeza.

—Bueno. Ya era hora.

—Oh. Um, yo no quiero que se meta en problemas ni nada de eso. Definitivamente no quiero que, ya sabes, pierda su trabajo.

—¿Por qué no? Es perezoso.

Robbie se encogió de hombros.

—Dijo que no se sentía bien.

El chico de la chaqueta de cuero se rio de nuevo.

—Eres una… cómo debería decirlo… persona muy confiada, ¿no?

—Uh, no lo sé. Supongo que sí.

—Bien, Robbie, creo que deberías tener cuidado. Algunas personas no son muy dignas de confianza.

Robbie le miró. Sus ojos eran más oscuros que antes, ahora eran casi negros. Tal vez fuera debido a la tenue iluminación.

—¿Cómo sabes mi nombre?

—Llevabas una tarjeta de identificación. La leí antes, cuando estabas aquí fuera empujando los carritos.

—Oh.

—Mi nombre es Colt, por cierto.

—¿En serio? —Sonrió Robbie, pero se dio cuenta al instante de lo grosero que debió sonar—. Lo siento, nunca he oído hablar de nadie que se llamara así.

—Abreviatura de Colton. Es un nombre de familia. Y no lo sientas, es bastante inusual.

—Oh, bueno, me gusta. —Cuando su nuevo amigo le miró a los ojos, Robbie sintió que se sonrojaba—. Uh, quiero decir… bueno, es un nombre genial.

Colt se acercó más a él, invadiendo su espacio personal.

—Así que ¿ya has terminado tu turno?

Robbie asintió.

—Sí —susurró.

—¿Estás esperando a que alguien te lleve o algo así?

—Nah. Vivo a un par de bloques de aquí, en el camping.

—Estupendo. —Sonrió Colton—. Te acompañaré a casa.

—¡No tienes que hacerlo! —espetó Robbie—. Uh, quiero decir, es muy amable de tu parte, pero…

—Sé que no tengo que hacerlo, pero ¿y si quiero hacerlo?

¿Por qué querría acompañarme a casa? Robbie no estaba muy seguro de qué pasaba con este chico, pero realmente le gustaba. Tal vez fuera lo sexy que parecía con esa chaqueta de cuero. Tal vez fueran sus ojos, tan oscuros y misteriosos, o la profunda resonancia de su voz.

—Está bien. Es cosa tuya.

Colt se agachó y recogió la mochila que Robbie había colocado a su lado en la acera.

—Muéstrame el camino.

Robbie se echó a reír.

—No tienes que llevarla, ¿sabes? Puedo arreglármelas.

—Quiero llevarla —dijo Colt, su voz firme y confiada—. Ya no me cabe duda, realmente eres una buena persona, alguien a quien me gustaría tener como amigo.

—Gracias. —Robbie no podía creer que este chico estuviera siendo tan agradable, tales atenciones le hacían sentirse un poco abrumado. Era sexy y encantador, casi demasiado bueno para ser verdad—. Pero en realidad no sabes nada de mí. Por lo que sabes, podría ser un asesino o algo parecido.

Colt se echó a reír con un poco más de entusiasmo del que Robbie esperaba.

—Esa sí que es buena. —Palmeó a Robbie en el hombro, y luego le dio un cariñoso apretón. Robbie sintió que sus mejillas ardían.

Caminaron juntos un trecho, con Robbie a la cabeza. Robbie no estaba seguro de qué decirle a su nuevo amigo, cómo seguir la conversación.

—Supongo que estás diciendo que no parezco muy peligroso.

—Bueno, tío, para ser sincero, no, no lo pareces. Tienes el aspecto de ser un hombre tan bueno que la gente se aprovecha de ti en ocasiones.

Colt estaba empezando a sonar igual que su madre.

—Tal vez —asintió—. Pero creo que prefiero que la gente me considere demasiado bueno y no demasiado mezquino.

—Es cierto. Pero tienes que tener cuidado. Ser bueno no es lo mismo que ser crédulo. Aun con todo, tienes que defenderte y no dejar que la gente te utilice.

—Como Jerry. —Robbie sabía que lo que Colt decía era verdad, pero simplemente no estaba en su naturaleza discutir con la gente.

—Sí, como ese idiota. Era evidente que no estaba enfermo. Solo estaba tratando de acosarte para que trabajaras un tiempo extra para así poder irse a casa.

Robbie asintió y bajó la cabeza.

—Oye, ¿cómo sabes que Jerry dijo que estaba enfermo?

—Me lo dijiste cuando estábamos en la tienda.

—¿Te lo dije? —Robbie no lo recordaba—. ¿Eres nuevo aquí? ¿Vives también en el camping?

—No, no vivo en el camping, pero soy nuevo en Boyne. Me mudé la semana pasada.

—Oh, guau. Así que ¿irás al instituto o estás en la universidad?

Colt negó con la cabeza.

—No voy al instituto, ni a la universidad. Ya me gradué.

—Oh, pensé que tenías mi edad. Me gradué el mes pasado.

—Estudié en casa —dijo Colt—. A mis padres no les gustaban las escuelas públicas. ¿Qué edad crees que aparento?

—No lo sé. —No quería responder por miedo a equivocarse—. Diecisiete tal vez.
Colt se echó a reír.

—Te equivocas.

—Lo siento, no soy bueno adivinando la edad de la gente.

—Tengo bastante más de diecisiete años —dijo Colt, sin dejar de sonreír—. Bastante más. ¿Me creerías si te dijera que tengo ciento sesenta y siete?

Robbie se echó a reír.

—Guau, tienes buen aspecto para tu edad. Debes tener una dieta fantástica y un gran régimen de ejercicios.

—Oh, sí. —Le guiñó un ojo y luego pasó un brazo sobre el hombro de Robbie—. Principalmente una dieta líquida.

Robbie se volvió hacia él, inhalando cuando lo hizo, y de inmediato se dio cuenta de cuán tentador era el olor de Colt. Llevaba algún tipo de perfume de sándalo. Paró de caminar y miró a los ojos de su amigo. Parecían mucho más oscuros que antes, pero tal vez se debiera a la luz tenue de las farolas a su alrededor.

—¿Cuántos años tienes realmente? —susurró Robbie.

—Tenía diecisiete la última vez que lo comprobé. —La voz de Colt era ahora más suave y sensual.

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Meant For Him by D.H. Starr is available!

Meant for Him23Meant For Him
Author: D.H. Starr
Genre: Gay romance; M/M romance
Previous book: Meant For Each Other
Imprint: Ai Press
Length: Super novel
eISBN: 978-1-937796-76-1

Trade paperback
ISBN13: 978-1-937796-77-8
Price: 12.99 USD

Buy from Ai Press|Amazon Kindle|BN Nook|AllRomance Ebooks|Google Play

Flame rating: 4 flames- Stories have frequent love scenes that are explicit and described using graphic and direct language.

Another hot guy from Greenwich Village is about to meet his match. That is, if he doesn’t mess things up…this time.

After the failure of his relationship with Jeremy, Andrew Jamieson threw himself into the routine of his high powered job on Wall Street. After two years, however, he is unable to quell the longing in his heart, a place Jeremy once filled. That is, until he meets Peter, the local bartender in Jeremy’s favorite watering hole. Peter is hot, sweet, sensitive and…masterful. He brings out a side of Andrew he never knew he had and he can’t get enough. However, when the same issues arise that caused his relationship to fail with Jeremy, Andrew fears he’s destined to ruin his chances with Peter. Will Andrew love Peter enough to let himself have the one guy in the world who could be meant for him?

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Andrew Jamieson pressed the handles of the weight machine away from his body, the strain on his muscles a welcome distraction from the day’s aggravation. Two promotions, managing an entire section of Goldman Sachs trading division, and paychecks to support the lifestyle of a king meant nothing. What good were they if none of them it could fill the void which settled in his heart after his split from Jeremy?

He’d spent two years pouring himself into work and into working out. Still, no amount of money and no extra definition to his already toned body could erase the fact he was alone. Well, maybe not alone since he had friends, but most definitely lonely. He’d taken his eight years with Jeremy for granted, pushing his own wants and needs on the man.

The truth they’d both been hiding from became too much to ignore when Craig, Jeremy’s childhood friend, came back into the picture. They’d wanted different things. At least Andrew kept telling himself they did. Otherwise he’d have to admit he’d fucked up the best thing in his life. And for what? A killer condo overlooking Central Park?

Counting out the final reps, Andrew focused on the muscle burn. It was easy enough to concentrate on the tremor in his bicep when he curled a weight or the creases of his stomach with each crunch, but having the arms of a Greek god was no use when there was no one to hold in his embrace. Washboard abs meant nothing if he couldn’t spoon a warm body against his skin.

He shut out the self-pitying thoughts, wiped down the seat of the weight machine and headed to the locker room. He made quick work of undressing and slipped an altogether too small towel around his waist. There were perhaps seven or eight guys changing and they made no effort to hide their sidelong glances at his powerful physique. Even the admiration of others, many of whom were impressively built, couldn’t lift his sense of isolation.

After a quick shower, he considered a long sit in the steam room and perhaps fifteen minutes in the sauna, areas renowned for locker room hook ups. He’d sworn off those after the first few months of being single. Instead of boosting his ego, the anonymous encounters only served to remind him what he’d had and lost.

Slipping into his regular clothing, Andrew ignored the several men assaulting him with their eyes, and worked his way out of the gym and to the street. The chill of late winter still carried on the air, but the promise of spring lingered beneath the vestiges of cold.

Birds chirped and the trees had begun to sprout buds. People had replaced woolen coats and scarves with lighter jackets. Several food vendors were set up along the sidewalks and the familiar smell of falafel and roasting franks wafted through the air. All signs of warmer weather and new beginnings.

But nothing seemed new. Trudging down Fifty-Ninth Street, the southern border of Central Park, toward his luxury apartment, he couldn’t help but resent the couples wandering along, hand in hand.

A young couple, about his age, stood at the entrance to the park holding one another in an embrace. The man leaned in and placed a tender kiss on the woman’s lips. When he’d initially found this place, he’d hoped he and Jeremy could take such strolls, simply enjoying each other’s company, or heading a few blocks West to Madison Avenue where they purchased a hi-def television or perhaps a Bluetooth surround system. Andrew found solitary use of the equipment far less enjoyable than he’d imagined.

To make matters worse, Jeremy finding everything he wanted in Craig only intensified Andrew’s sense of disconnectedness, a constant companion lately. As if reading his mind, his phone buzzed, Jeremy’s name emblazoned on the screen.

The typical responses of excitement and regret filled him each time Jeremy called, in that order. He pressed ‘Accept’ and brought the phone to his ear. “Hey you.” He mustered as much cheerfulness as he could and still sounded depressed.

“What’s wrong?” Jeremy’s concern was tangible. Yet he wasn’t there to sling an arm over Andrew’s shoulder or pull him into a comforting hug. No warmth, only the chill air of late winter.

“Nothing. Just worked out and I’m a little sore.” His lie probably fell on all too knowing ears, but he refused to wallow in his own misery.

“Oh. Okay.” Jeremy maintained a chipper bounce to his tone, although it didn’t fool Andrew. “We still on for dinner tonight?”

Shit. I totally forgot about that. He and Jeremy had managed to remain friends despite the circumstances breaking them apart. He liked Craig, but seeing the two of them together was still difficult. “Uh. I—”

“Don’t even! I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen for the past two hours.” The chastising tone helped to thaw some of the ice surrounding Andrew’s heart, even though the familiarity broke it just a bit more. “Besides, I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”

“Fine. Is there anything I can bring?”

“Just yourself.” A brief silence interrupted Jeremy’s usual talkative nature. The pause was long enough for the hairs on Andrew’s arms to stand on end. “We invited Pete over too.”

There it was. Another one of Jeremy’s dinners, code for hookup. Andrew dropped his head so his chin rested on his chest and he came to a dead halt in the middle of the sidewalk. “Jeremy. If you’re trying to—”

“I’m not trying to do anything, but you’ve been a working machine for the last two years. It’s not like you to cut yourself off from people. You deserve to find someone. I worry about you.”

Affection spread through Andrew like fingers of warmth comforting him from within. For eight years he’d come home to Jeremy’s nurturing. And for most of those years, they’d been happy. Until Andrew’s career took off. Once that happened, Andrew’d wanted more for the two of them. He’d pressured Jeremy about his choice of career and his complacency. He’d viewed Jeremy as unmotivated and thought it was his job to push the man to achieve his full potential. Yet Jeremy was still teaching, still making a pitiful salary, still living in the East Village in a small apartment, and still happier than Andrew had ever seen him.

“I’ll be there around six. Please don’t expect anything with Pete. When I’m ready, I’ll find someone.”

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En español: Señora de Dos Lairds por Sedonia Guillone

señoraLairdsLarge23Señora de Dos Lairds
Autor: Sedonia Guillone
Género: Menage a trois / histórico / Highlanders
Largo: Novela
eISBN: 978-1-937796-69-3
Precio: 5.49 USD

Calificación sensualidad: 4 llamas-Las historias tienen escenas de amor frecuentes que son explícitos y se describen utilizando el lenguaje gráfico y directo.

Compra e-book de: Ai Press|Amazon Kindle|AllRomance Ebooks

Arte de la cubierta: Les Byerley

Una mujer. Dos rudos y guapos highlanders. Ella los ama a los dos. Afortunadamente, ellos están dispuestos a compartirla…

Leda MacGregor ha albergado un amor secreto por el apuesto Laird Duncan desde que tenía dieciséis años. Cuando este la culpa de la muerte de su esposa, ella se vuelve hacia su hermano Ian para que este la consuele y encuentra que su corazón es capaz de amar a dos hombres.
Ian MacGregor sabe que su corazón pertenece a Leda, su amiga de la infancia. La desea con más fuerza que a cualquier otra mujer que ha conocido. Sin embargo, se debate entre el deseo de su corazón y el curso que su vida debe tomar. Cuando por fin es libre de amar a Leda, son separados por un cruel engaño.
Duncan MacGregor aprende cuan poderosa es fuerza del perdón de Leda y con el paso del tiempo, crece su amor y la desea de una manera que nunca creyó posible. Cuando su hermano le rompe el corazón, la toma para él. Entonces el destino trae a Ian de regreso, aún amando a Leda…
Una mujer. Dos rudos y guapos highlanders. Ella los ama a los dos. Afortunadamente, ellos están dispuestos a compartirla…

Excerpt:

La poderosa presencia de Duncan llenó la habitación. Lo sintió escabullirse tras de ella. Las manos fuertes del Laird se cerraron con suavidad pero con firmeza en sus caderas. El calor de sus manos quemaba por debajo del fino algodón de su camisa de dormir, presionando en su suave carne con fervor posesivo.

El momento había estado anhelando durante años había llegado.

“Phyllida.” El aliento de Duncan acarició un lado de su cuello, haciendo que sus párpados cerrados revolotearan. Se puso de espaldas contra él, deslizando sus manos por sus caderas, a través de la suave redondez, femenina de su vientre. Sus manos se posaron en su pecho, los dedos índices de cada mano rozaban peligrosamente cerca de la parte inferior de sus senos.
Leda se permitió descansar contra él. Se deleitó con la dura protección masculina de su cuerpo presionado su espalda. Duncan la hacía sentir tan segura y cálida. Sus ojos se abrieron cuando la dureza de su erección empujó en la hendidura entre sus nalgas. Su respiración profunda y poso sus manos sobre él, permitiendo que sus dedos exploraran el calor de piel, las venas, y su oscuro cabello rizado de sus fuertes manos. Su aliento, ahora ronco y desigual, latía en sus oídos, convirtiéndose en promesas eróticas. “Duncan, te he fallado. Lo siento mucho.” Ella comenzó a llorar.

“Calla ahora”, le dijo.

En silencio, miró por la ventana abierta a los árboles y al césped. A lo lejos, colinas verdes bajaban por el lago Garmond en los confines de la cañada.

“Mi hermosa Leda”, susurró Duncan. “Te perdono.” El tenor de su ronca voz, más potente que el mejor whisky, envió acaloradas emociones a través de sus pechos, y su corazón le dolía con la liberación de su culpabilidad. Su perdón fue más dulce, más curativo que un bálsamo. Poco a poco, tentativamente, deslizó su palma hacia arriba, por su pecho, a las suaves ondas de sus pechos…

Leda se sentó de golpe, su pecho jadeaba. Hundió la palma de su mano en la frente, recuperándose. Había tenido sueños similares sobre Duncan en los últimos cinco años, y siempre la sacudían. Pero ninguno tan intenso como este.

La húmeda brisa del verano, flotaba por la ventana abierta, levantando suavemente las cortinas de gasa blanca. El temprano rosa de la salida del sol se mostraba por encima de las distantes colinas.

Su sexo seguía pulsándole con la locura del sueño y sus pezones hormigueaban en contra de su camisón. Las sensaciones la llenaban de culpa. A causa de su incompetencia, Duncan había enterrado a su amada Caitlynn y a su hijo muerto el día de hoy, y ella, Phyllida, ni siquiera tenía la decencia de parar sus románticos deseos— no, su lujuria— para el miembro del clan que había amado en secreto durante años. Especialmente cuando fue por su culpa que Caitlynn murió.

Leda exhaló y volvió a caer sobre las almohadas, con el corazón encogido dolorosamente. Empuñó sus manos para que dejaran de temblar. Por enésima vez, repaso todas las posibilidades en su mente, viéndose a sí misma detener el flujo de sangre que había escurrido la vida de Caitlynn. Había empleado hasta la última gota de los conocimientos de partera y de enfermería que su madre le enseñó. Sin embargo, la horrible sensación que podía haber hecho más la atormentaba, como una piedra bajo su piel.

Acomodándose más profundamente en la cama, se quedó mirando la salida del sol. La finca ya se sentía más oscura y sombría, sin Caitlynn, la hermosa mujer que había traído la luz y la risa al sobrecargado laird, lleno de responsabilidades. Cait fue un fuerte contraste a su marido, quien llevaba el peso de sus responsabilidades con un aire pesado. Duncan sorprendió a todos los que conocía durante su corto matrimonio, porque él había pasado esos cinco años llenos de las risas que ahora había perdido.

Ahora Caitlynn se había ido, y Leda tendría que vivir el resto de sus días sabiendo que la había matado.

De repente, Leda recordó que Ian, el hermano menor de Duncan, estaría en casa esa mañana para el funeral. Ella e Ian tenían la misma edad y habían crecido casi toda su vida juntos. La idea de verlo, a su compañero de juegos infantiles y su mejor amigo, fue lo que la hizo sobreponerse y forzarse a sí misma a levantarse de las profundidades de su suave colchón. Calzó sus zapatillas y cruzó la habitación a su guardarropa. Abriendo bien las puertas, pensando en que ponerse. No era que tuviera mucha elección. Había preferido siempre el uniforme de todos los días que era una blusa, pantalón, suéter, y botas, a las faldas y vestidos.

A pesar de su tristeza, Leda sonrió espontáneamente ante los recuerdos que le vinieron a la mente. Caitlynn, que había sido la encarnación de la feminidad, había intentado una y mil veces, sin éxito, romper con su atuendo masculino. A pesar de que Leda se había sentido siempre como una boba junto a la esposa de Duncan, la ropa masculina la había protegido, manteniéndola invisibles a los ojos de los hombres, especialmente de Duncan. Si no la notaba, era mucho más fácil ignorar el hecho de que nunca podría devolver el cariño que guardaba a su tutor. Además, nadie podía montar a caballo, escalar montañas y árboles, y explorar las orillas de un lago en un vestido de té.

Audrey asomó la cabeza por la puerta. “¿Necesita una mano, Señorita Leda?”

Leda sonrió a la mujer, de mediana edad, y que si se preocupa de la condición social. Antes de que su padre se perdiera en el mar, en su barco de pesca, Leda había pasado los primeros años de su vida en una cabaña rústica en las Orkneys, y nunca había sido una criada. Nunca creció acostumbrada realmente a ser atendida. “No lo creo, Audrey. Gracias.”

Audrey frunció el ceño e irrumpió en el cuarto de todos modos. “Yo no le creo, Señorita.” En un soplo de faldas almidonadas, se dirigió a una cómoda y sacó un corsé y medias de color oscuro de un cajón.

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Forever Fearless (Forever Vampire Book 2) by Jeff Erno!

ForeverFearless23Forever Fearless
Author: Jeff Erno
Series: Forever Vampire Book 2
Previous book: Forever Young
Genre: Gay Romance, YA, Young Adult, Paranormal Romance, Vampire
Length: Novel
eISBN: 978-1-937796-61-7
Flame Rating: 3 Flames

Cover art: Les Byerley

Buy from: Amazon Kindle|AllRomance Ebooks|BN Nook|Google Play

The Forever Vampire saga continues…

In the aftermath of unspeakable slaughter, Robbie and Colt have escaped to the wilds of Alaska to face their immortal future. Things aren’t so certain for their sworn enemies, Dylan and Issa, Matarian soldiers sworn to hunt them down and slaughter them.

Dylan is poised to begin his first vampire hunt and wants Issa as his partner, but Issa is far more concerned with finding his brother and tracking down the blond boy who nearly died on the battlefield. The entire cast from book one reunites in this thrilling continuation of their story, joined by a host of new faces–friends and foes–whose lives somehow weave together as they cross paths in their efforts to battle evil and attain their own happiness. Humans, Shifters, Daywalkers, and Purebloods confront each other with the guidance of three enigmatic sisters–one a Maenad, one a necromancer, and the other a human witch. Plot twists and surprises mark the paths of these diverse characters, forever fearless in their quest to cling to all they hold dear.

Excerpt:

Chapter One

He woke up screaming, as he’d done nearly every time he tried to sleep. The vivid images played in his head like a movie reel. Relentless, graphic nightmares, or more accurately, flashbacks. The doctor said he was suffering from post-traumatic stress, but she didn’t know the half of it.

Local media had covered the story, labeling it a bizarre wolf attack in which eighteen campers had been killed and another two dozen injured. Issa knew the truth. They all knew, all of the witnesses. There’d been a wolf attack, all right, but those were not ordinary wolves. And in the wake of the confrontation, they’d left carnage unlike anything Issa could have imagined. Body parts strewn everywhere, so badly that many of the victims were not even recognizable.

Worse than these gruesome images were Issa’s memories of the vampire slayings. He thought he’d been prepared. He’d learned all his lessons, completed hours of target practice, and had even watched graphic videos. Sure, he knew it would be bloody, and he knew that ripping a vampire’s heart from its chest was no job for the squeamish. Yet, there was nothing that could have prepared him for seeing it all in living color.

If he knew anything with certainty, it was the fact that he wasn’t cut out for the job. He had no desire to ever again see what he’d witnessed that night, and he definitely was no vampire slayer.
Shockwaves had rippled through the Matarian community as word of the tragedy quickly spread. An emergency meeting had been called to assess the losses and to discuss an appropriate response. The devastation affected every Matarian family, but most significantly those who’d lost a young loved one.

Issa knew all of the victims. They’d been his classmates. His sixteen year old classmates. Boot camp was a Matarian rite of passage, one every Matarian child looked forward to. This pivotal juncture provided transition from youthful fantasies of vampire slaying to the reality of actual field work. Completion of boot camp culminated with a graduation ceremony followed by the assignments of the cadets’ first hunts.

But there’d been no ceremony this year. Instead, the entire community gathered for a massive memorial service. Even the successful vampire slayings, normally a cause for great celebration, hadn’t offset the tragic losses.

“It’s a war,” Issa’s father calmly stated, “and people die in wars.”

“Children, Ibrahim. They were but children,” his mother pointed out.

Sadly, Issa knew many in the community shared his father’s sentiments. Rather than giving them pause and leading them to contemplate the senseless killings, the tragedy had enraged them and made them even more bloodthirsty. Talk of revenge already ran rampant, and now a new enemy had been added to the list. Matarians not only fought the vampires, but also the werewolves.

The deaths of Issa’s brethren lay heavy on his heart, yet he did not yearn for revenge. In fact, he didn’t blame the vampires or the wolves. He knew why they’d come. They were on a rescue mission, there to free the prisoners the Matarians were heartlessly torturing. When stormed by an army of battle-ready cadets, they responded, and many lives were lost.

And the tragedy had cut both ways. At least four from the other side had been mortally wounded, a wolf, two vampires, and a human. Issa had heard the jubilant cheers from his fellow Matarian warriors as the vampires were felled, and the memory sickened him. Brendan and Richard were a couple, and they’d loved each other very much. They’d been together for years—at least decades, if not centuries.

To Issa, their relationship didn’t seem so different than what he shared with Dylan. According to the Matarian teachings, vampires were bloodsucking monsters, not even human, and most people didn’t think they were really even capable of love. Driven solely by their hunger, personal relationships were secondary to them. In most instances, they were solitary creatures who existed only for the purpose of feeding. Killing machines, and nothing more.

But Issa knew otherwise. He knew from his conversation with Brendan. He knew because he’d seen how Richard had reacted when reunited with his lover. And he’d witnessed a similar connection between the young-looking vampire and the human—the little blond kid. Christ, he didn’t look any older than the cadets. Robbie, was it?

The vampire was in love with the boy. Issa could only speculate as to what had become of them. Perhaps they’d made it to safety in time, but if so, that would imply Robbie had been converted. Surely, he wouldn’t have survived an arrow through his heart.

Issa didn’t want to know. He couldn’t bear the possibility that the kid, so obviously in love, had sacrificed himself for his lover. And even if he had somehow been saved, he didn’t want to think about what that would mean. They’d be targets. Sitting ducks. The Matarian army was already planning an all-out war, a massive and sweeping retaliatory strike. They were intent upon eradicating all vampires worldwide, once and for all.

But the elders didn’t even know the whole story. Only Dylan and Issa were aware of all that had transpired that night. They were the only Matarians to witness Raoul and Shadi.

“You can’t tell,” Issa had pleaded. “If they find out, they’ll hunt them down and kill my brother.”

“Issa, he’s no longer your brother.” Dylan tried to reason with him. “He’s a Pureblood vampire. He isn’t even human, and he has no loyalty to you or your family.”

“What if it were your brother?”

Dylan took a step back, then slowly nodded. Issa knew how close Dylan was to his brother Taylor. He’d never turn his back on his own flesh and blood, no matter the circumstances. Finally, he sighed. “All right, I won’t tell. But it has to end here. From this point forward, Shadi no longer exists. As far as we’re concerned, he’s gone forever.”

Issa nodded his agreement, but didn’t verbalize a response. He could never make such a promise, not even to Dylan. Shadi was his brother, and Issa couldn’t just pretend he was dead. Though it might not immediately be possible, one day he’d find his brother and they’d have their reunion. In the meantime, he had to find a way to forgive himself for all that had happened. He had to somehow make the nightmares stop so he could go on with his life, so he could concentrate on his future with Dylan.

As he lay alone in his dark room, he thought on these things and stared up at the ceiling. “I’ll find you again, Shadi,” he whispered.

Posted in Available Books, Jeff Erno, Novel length, Vampire, Young Adult | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Now available: Men of Tokyo: Sudden Bliss

MenofTokyo Desires23Men of Tokyo: Sudden Bliss
Author: Sedonia Guillone
Series: White Tigers – Book 1
Previous book: Men of Tokyo: Forbidden Cravings (Prequel)
Genre: Gay romance; Yaoi; M/M
Length: Novel
eISBN: 978-1-937796-57-0

Print ISBN: 978-1-937796-58-7

Buy from: Amazon and read free for Kindle Subscribers!

Cover art: Les Byerley

In a world where passion and spirit find union, there is no in between…

Desperately in need of a vacation, Koji spends the most deliciously erotic week of his life at the White Tiger, a luxurious love-hotel for gay men. Naoto, his personal attendant, is everything Koji has ever fantasised about: muscular, long-haired, ruggedly handsome, gentle yet commanding. Naoto is a White Tiger, after all, trained in the erotic arts, knowledgeable in every way to bring a man to bliss.

Naoto’s appreciative eye sees the honourable and sexy man Koji-san is under the work-driven shell. Little by little, his massages and more coax the real man, the passionate, artistic, sex-loving Koji, to the surface. Yet, the more time Naoto spends with Koji, the more he finds his own soul craving a partner again, the one thing he thought he’d never find after his lover was killed three years ago. He’s not sure he’s ready to get that close again. And even if he were ready, it doesn’t mean that Koji wants the same thing. In fact, Koji once mentioned that he was supposed to get married. Yet, when an agonising secret from Naoto’s past is revealed to him, Naoto wants only to turn to Koji.

When Naoto comes to him for help, Koji is suddenly faced with a harrowing decision: remain in his work-driven, soul-killing world or follow the path his body and heart have really chosen for him? And he must choose – for in a world where passion and spirit find union, there is no in between.

Excerpt:

“This is your time to relax, Watanabe-san.” Naoto kept his voice a soft murmur as he let his protective desire to nurture another man in distress come out. That was one of the things he was good at. Otherwise, Kiku wouldn’t have given him what was appearing to be a hard case. “Everything you could want or need is here while you’re our guest. Everything.” With the last word, Naoto let his hand rest briefly on the other man’s chest.

Koji Watanabe didn’t answer but Naoto could see that his eyes, for the first time seemed to focus for more than a couple of seconds.

It was then that Naoto had a glimpse of what Watanabe might look like if he hadn’t been so haggard. Large dark eyes with thick lashes drew his gaze. He followed the straight bridge of his nose to the nostrils, which widened slightly at the end. The high cheekbones that looked a bit too sharp now would probably give him a kind of star quality when he’d put on a few pounds, as would the light gold of his complexion when less sallow.

The one thing that stood out, untarnished by stress, was his lips. Firm yet full, a dusky pink and beautifully shaped, like a slightly pulled back bow, there was one word for Koji Watanabe’s lips—kissable. Well, maybe lickable and suckable too. Naoto caught himself staring a moment longer than was appropriate.

Oh, and Watanabe’s hair, cut in a typically conventional office-guy style, short around the sides and barely longer on top, was also really beautiful. Just long enough to sift one’s fingers through, if given a chance.

Naoto’s heartbeat had kicked up a notch. He had always been a close observer and admirer of the male face and form, and it was clear this man was better looking than most of the men he serviced. Of course, there were good-looking guys that came in, but only once in a while did one have a certain something that gave him that…feeling…

Firmly putting his attention back on the task at hand, he dared to work open the top button at Watanabe’s collar. A small expanse of pale gold skin peeked through, making Naoto suddenly itch to see more. To see what the rest of Koji Watanabe looked like. “Is that better, Watanabe-san?”

Now he caught the other man looking directly into his eyes. Watanabe’s lips had parted slightly and his breathing sounded shallow. “You have long hair,” he said, then shook himself as if starting from a trance. “I—I’m sorry, I meant please, call me Koji.” Then he covered his face with both hands and slumped over. “I don’t know what I meant.”

Naoto stared at the top of Koji-san’s head, at the beautifully-shaped fingers peeking out from where they were buried in his hair. How he yearned to pull the man to him. But he held back, sensing Koji-san might not be ready. “You have no need to apologise. If you prefer a man with short hair we can—”

Koji-san’s head shot up, eyes wide. “No! I’m sorry. It wasn’t a complaint.” His breath started to come in short bursts and his pale face grew even paler.

Anxiety. Naoto recognised the signs. If Koji-san was as work-ridden as he appeared, he was probably in withdrawal. It wasn’t uncommon among the guests who came here, especially the Japanese men. “Koji-san,” he said, keeping his tone soothing. His hands came up and he rubbed the other man’s shoulders. Through the thin white shirt, Koji-san’s muscles were wiry, though also a bit too thin. “There is nothing to apologise for.”

“This was so wrong. So wrong. I should be there.” The words tumbled from Koji-san’s lips and his eyes were wide with that haunted look.

“It’s all right, Koji-san.” Without thinking, Naoto rose higher on his knees and embraced the slimmer man. Koji-san was trembling as if he’d been outside in snow without any clothing on and his breathing had that choked sound Naoto had heard men make in terrible circumstances…like when they actually were dying…from gunshot wounds.

He rubbed the man’s back in gentle circles and tilted his head aside so Koji-san’s forehead could rest on his shoulder, all the while trying to erase the image of his lover’s gunshot wound. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see, Koji-san. I know it will.” He kept rubbing, feeling the wiry muscles of the other man’s back flex as his body trembled and shook. The poor guy was a basket case. It was going to take much more than a massage with a happy ending to help him unwind.

Naoto held the other man for what seemed a long time, rubbing his back and just simply letting his anxiety attack run its course. Venturing one hand upward, he massaged the nape of Koji-san’s neck. The man had a gracefully curved neck. Naoto had noticed it when unbuttoning his collar, and the skin there was warm and smooth. Not only that, but he smelled good, like clean laundry and soap with just a hint of male musk.

Posted in Available Books, Novel length, Sedonia Guillone, Tokyo Beat (Yaoi) | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Now Available: The Sex Ring by AJ Llewellyn!

The sexRing23The Sex Ring
Author: AJ Llewellyn
Genre: Gay romance; M/M; Paranormal, Ghost
Length: Novella
eISBN: 978-1-937796-56-3
MSRP: 5.99
You pay: 2.99

Cover art: Les Byerley

amazon
nook
allrom
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Publisher’s note: The Sex Ring was previously published. It has been re-edited for release with Ai Press.

Edan doesn’t believe in ghosts…so why does he feel compelled to believe the second he’s in possession of THE SEX RING?

Struggling filmmaker Kristofer Edan accepts a cash pay day to model the leather ensembles owned by recently deceased, celebrated artist Rafael Ortiz at an auction. Kristofer soon finds himself coveting one jacket in particular that has an unusual addition: a sex ring dangling from its epaulette.

When Kristofer wins the jacket in a second-chance bid, he’s in for a big surprise…the sex ring seems to have an intense energy, that when in use, conjures up sexual dreams and powers that Kristofer never had before. He soon becomes obsessed with the ring and the dead artist…painting huge canvasses that people say resemble those of Ortiz himself. Kristofer starts to feel the dead man’s presence and senses that Rafael is just as obsessed with him….or…is Kristofer possessed by him?

Excerpt:

Chapter One

I stared at my computer screen. I still couldn’t believe I’d sat around all day hoping to nab a copywriting assignment. And what did I get? The crappiest one yet.

How to Book Train Travel to Estonia.

I did a mental eye roll and accepted the assignment. Now I had to come up with sixteen pages of stuff…about Estonia. Where the hell was the place? I Googled it. Yep, just as I thought. Eastern Europe. I read the Wikipedia notes. Allegedly, it was the hub of social activity in medieval times. Groovy.

Holy crap. It sure didn’t have much going for it now. Including train travel. Ninety percent of travel through Estonia is done by road, although many highways are still being rebuilt since being demolished in World War II.

World War II?

I could feel a giant headache coming on, and it had Estonia written all over it. I cursed my luck. Some of my co-workers had nabbed the plum assignments. It was supposed to be a first come, first serve deal, but how come the same guys got the best gigs week after week?

I swallowed down some cold coffee and eyed the assignments. How to Book Train Travel to France, Italy, Spain…but not me. Nope. No siree. I got me Estonia.

Many Estonians choose bicycles over cars.

I wondered briefly about the suicide rate in Estonia as I picked up my new sexual wonder toy, my Tenga. My Tenga could cure all my anxieties, all my stresses. I’d never had sex like it, on my own or with another human being.

My part-time job as a copywriter for a major ehow website was damned stressful. I needed that Tenga. People like me sit in our homes and bid on jobs online. We then grab them and put our best, most creative feet forward creating how to articles. Trust me to get a how to guide for train travel in a country that had none. It was a tricky assignment, and not one I could toss back to the sea. I kept reading as I stuck my finger in the Tenga’s cock port. The message mechanism pulled gently on my fingertip. Man, my cock was getting hard.

Concentrate, Kristofer.

Okay, you could get in and out of the country by train, but despite its new prominence as the spa capital of the world for canny Finnish and Russian travelers, Estonia was still a backwards country. Only in the last couple of years had restoration been made to the Tallinn-Tartu, its major highway and pride and joy. And, oops, fifty-six people had already died in reckless car crashes on it.

That was not a selling point. Heck, maybe it was.

Since my assignment was being paid for by Eurail, I had to emphasize train travel. I also had to make good use of the keywords that had to pop up at least twelve times each in your report. In fact, the company I worked for had a terrific program that counted down the keywords and removed them from your target list each time you used them.

I’d snatched the assignment after weeks of painful insurance and medical how to guides. There isn’t anything I don’t know about chemotherapy, and I hope I never have to use this information. My attention strayed out the window.

My IM pinged on the computer. My editor congratulated me on finally catching an assignment. This one at least was a little more interesting than the last one. How to open a stuck jar. Seriously. I had to compose sixteen pages of step-by-step instructions on how to open a bloody jar. I wondered if they had jars in Estonia or if they ate stones.

Well la-di-fucking dah. How the hell was I supposed to come up with sixteen pages on non-existent train travel to and through Estonia?

My Tenga felt nice and warm in my hands. It wanted me. I could feel it. The space-age looking rectangular box with three speeds and an interior the average hooker would die for was a lot more interesting than train travel. Or jars.

There was a knock at my door and I hastily stashed my Tenga under my desk.

My brother Kiel crashed into the room.

“Thank God you’re home.” He shook his head. “What am I saying? You’re always home. Listen, I need you.”

“Me? What for?”

“I need you to model for me.”

“Model for you?”

“Are you having a case of stupiditis? Why are you repeating everything I’m saying? Yes, model. I want you to come tonight to my big, fancy AIDS benefit and model some groovy clothes.”

“At the risk of pissing you off, why do you want me of all people to model for you?”

“You’re skinny.”

“Oookay.”

“Seriously. These clothes used to belong to Rafael Ortiz. You know, Joshua’s former lover.”

“The artist? But he died…what? Twenty years ago?”

“C’mon, Kris. Do it for me. Do it for our people.”

The waves crashed outside my bedroom window and all I wanted to do was write, listen to some music and contemplate the ocean. Modeling a dead artist’s clothing? Joshua, my brother’s boyfriend had been good to me. Both of them had. But I just didn’t want to do it.

“I really, really, really don’t want to. I have so much work to do. I just got a big assignment.”

“That is such crap, Kris. I know exactly what you were doing. You were playing with your Tenga. That thing’ll break off your wiener. How many times have you used it, anyway? It’s only good for fifty loads, you know.”

Posted in AJ Llewellyn, Available Books | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Now Available! Sinful Pleasures by Emmanuel Lang

SinfulPleasures23Sinful Pleasures
Author: Emmanuel Lang
Genre: M/M; Gay Romance; Contemporary
Imprint: Ai Press
Length: Novelette
eISBN: 978-1-937796-55-6
MSRP: 4.99
You pay: 1.99

Cover art: Les Byerley

Buy from: Amazon Kindle|AllRomance Ebooks

What would you do if someone made you an indecent proposal and offered you the world in exchange for your will and your body?

Scott White is a twenty-one year old virgin who’s ecstatic when he’s offered his dream at Graham Enterprises, one of South Africa’s biggest conglomerates. He comes from an impoverished background and has worked very hard to finish school and land a decent job. Little does he realize that he has caught the eye of CEO and owner of Graham Enterprises, Arthur Graham.

Arthur has worked very hard to escape the demons from his past and build an empire. He is immediately drawn to shy, innocent Scott and consumed by a desire to possess and dominate him. He propositions Scott and makes him an offer he cannot refuse. Scott has to agree to be his sex slave and cater to his every sexual need, no matter how…kinky.

Scott agrees and is immediately drawn into a world where money and pleasure are all that matter. But how long can he last in this world without falling for his aloof, enigmatic master?

Publisher’s note: Contains M/M/M ménage and spanking.

Excerpt:

Chapter One
The Proposal

“The job is yours if you want it. But you have to sleep with me first.”

“E—excuse me,” I stuttered, thinking that my ears were deceiving me. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” answered Arthur Graham, one of the richest men in the world.

I stood staring at him, transfixed and silenced by utter shock. My name is Scott White and I recently graduated from the University of South Africa with a degree in Human Resources. It has always been my dream to work as a training manager for a large corporation. Right after graduation, I applied for just such a position at one of the biggest companies in South Africa, Graham Enterprises. I was delighted when, a week ago, I was called in for an interview by the big magnate—the founder and owner of Graham Enterprises himself, Arthur Graham. When his secretary called later to inform me that I had gotten the job, I was so happy, I could’ve blown her a kiss over the phone! I was told to come to the office to sign all the necessary paperwork! I was surprised when greeted by the Mr. Graham in the lobby. It’s common knowledge that he’s gay, but not once during the entire interview process did I ever think he was attracted to me.

“I—I’m sorry sir,” I stuttered, finally locating my voice. “I’m not gay.”

“Is that so?” he stared at me skeptically, raising his right brow. His eyes shifted from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and back up again. For some inexplicable reason, I found myself staring at the sizable bulge between his legs. He was dressed in a pair of skin-tight, brown corduroy pants and a white shirt.

“Are you wasting all of that on a woman?” he finally muttered, his eyes fixed between my legs.

“I—I don’t have a girlfriend, if that’s what you mean.” Why can’t I stop stuttering?

“Of course you don’t.” He came around his desk and walked toward the door. He opened it, stuck his head out and instructed his secretary, “Candice, please hold all my calls, until I inform you otherwise and cancel all my appointments. I don’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Yes Mr. Graham,” was the immediate response from Candice.

I could only stare helplessly as he closed and locked the door behind him and then walked slowly toward me. “Have you ever had a girlfriend?” he murmured, lifting his hand to stroke my cheek.

“No,” I croaked, swallowing audibly.

“You know, I could tell you were a virgin the first time I laid eyes on you.”

My eyes widened when he began to unbutton his shirt.

“Take your clothes off Scott,” he instructed, smiling softly.

My mouth watered as I watched him undress. He truly was a fine specimen. He flung his shirt off and unbuttoned his pants.

My mouth dropped and my eyes popped when his cock sprang free from his underpants. My God, I thought, is he a man or a horse? I couldn’t believe its size! I’m not a child; I’m twenty-one years old and even though I’ve never had sex, I know all about it. I’ve watched animals doing the dirty, I’ve seen porn videos, but I have never seen a penis as long or as thick as Mr. Graham’s. Its sheer girth and size were enough to send anyone running for the hills!

I tried to back away from him but came up hard against his desk. “Kneel,” he commanded, his fierce blue eyes burning into my glazed green ones. I obeyed without thinking and found myself face to face with his rigid member.

“Suck me.”

A sweet desire began pooling in the region of my lower abdomen at the thought of those darkly muttered words. I opened my mouth and swallowed as much of his cock as I possibly could. Because he was so enormous, only half of him fit into my mouth.

“Oh yeah,” he whispered as he began to slowly thrust his hips back and forth. His taste and scent filled my mouth and nostrils. I took him in and out of my mouth, meeting him thrust for thrust. We both murmured in appreciation when I used my tongue to lick every inch of his cock and balls. I soon felt myself getting hard. I continued to suck him for another twenty minutes before he instructed me to get up and take my clothes off.

I was beyond shocked now at my brazen behavior. I had always been confused about my sexuality, finding myself attracted to men at a young age. That’s why I was still a virgin, at least until today that is.

Posted in Available Books, BDSM, Emmanuel Lang | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Now Available: A Kiss For Judas (Big Deal Prequel)

Big Deal A kiss for Judas front cover23A Kiss For Judas
Author: Katsura
Artist: Yuramei
Series: Big Deal
Genre: Yaoi, M/M; Black comedy
Length: Novel
eISBN13: 978-1-937796-45-7
MSRP: 8.49
You pay: 5.49

Coming soon: Print ISBN13: 978-1-937796-46-4

Cover art: Yuramei

Buy from Amazon Kindle|BN Nook|AllRomance Ebooks

Violence, lust and passion, all served with a dollop of British comedy, A Kiss For Judas is another beautifully illustrated, gripping, prose novel from bestselling Yaoi creators, Katsura and Yuramei. Based on the Big Deal series, this story follows the exploits of bisexual, sex addict, Judas and the men who grow to love and hate him.

Judas MacGregor, a small town boy with little going for him but his looks, receives a further kick in the teeth from fate when his mother, the woman who lumbered him with the handle from hell, dies. With no one in the world to guide or goad him, he throws himself into the pursuit of satisfaction—and straight into the clutches of petty crime.

A hopeless future is an apparent certainty, then a chance encounter in prison presents him with an opportunity to change his life forever…

Recruited as a dogsbody for the notoriously violent Campbell gang, the young delinquent has never had it so good. He forms an unlikely friendship with Fergus Campbell, the privileged son of the boss, and everything seems to be looking up…until a robbery goes disastrously wrong.
Was Judas’s mother prophetic in her choice of name for him, after all?

Through the gritty world of organised crime, in the forgotten backwaters of Scotland, we chart Judas’s progress from a poverty stricken nobody, to a fully-fledged hood and hitman.

Excerpt:

“You coming then?” Clearly uninterested in the stranger’s departure, Sandy headed for the stairs again.

Judas followed him, tugging at the tie he wore. These fucking things were so uncomfortable. Who would choose to wear one for any reason other than the big sham that was a funeral?
Once they were both inside the bedroom, Sandy closed the door. He faced Judas, the two of them standing close to foot of the bed. “Well?” He seemed to be studying Judas’s face closely, taking in his appearance with obvious scrutiny, but Judas’s lips appeared to attract his attention most. “Do I get my suit back?”

Being blessed in the looks department, Judas was used to being stared at, but certainly no guy had ever eyeballed his mouth for such a prolonged period of time. He’d the sudden urge to crouch and say, “Hey, I’m up here.” Like a girl had once said to him while he goggled at her breasts. The lack of eye contact, however, made him feel that anything he was about to say was irrelevant.

“I can’t go home in wet clothes.” He attempted his obvious response, not surprised when Sandy appeared to ignore it. Mere inches now separated them. Finally, Sandy’s stare did leave Judas’s mouth, only to fixate on his eyes instead.

“You’re a good looking guy, Judas. That’s your real name, isn’t it? I always thought people called you that for a joke.” He smiled and Judas immediately smelled the alcohol on his breath. So he hadn’t been unique in finding the booze the only decent thing about the commiseration spread.

“Jude.” Judas nodded. “Like the song, you know?” The lyrics of The Beatles classic had become something like a comfort to Judas. Someone out there actually gave a toss about this Jude, whoever he was, and the unloved loner embraced the chorus, stole the name, and made it all personal to him.

“Hey, Jude…” There was no tune to the way Sandy spoke, so thankfully, he wasn’t about to give a rendition. Instead, he reached out and gently stroked Judas’s cheek. “Can’t be easy for you, losing your ma like that, yeah? Being left alone?”

Aside from Sandy’s mother, no one had ever shown Judas any real care before, so he wasn’t used to the etiquette of it all. He shrugged in response to the touch and leaned his head back a fraction. “I’ll get by. We weren’t that close.”

Again, it seemed that Sandy hadn’t listened at all to the reply and had once more become fascinated by Judas’s mouth. He leaned a closer and whispered in such a way that Judas felt the words land on his own lips. “Hey, Jude…” Sandy slid the hand that had once caressed Judas’s cheek and tangled it through the waves of his hair instead. “Can I kiss you?”

“Kiss me?” Judas almost spluttered. “W-what would you want to do that for?”

There’d been no younger women in attendance at the do. Forty was about the youngest of the black-clad gathering of females and although the honour of being that age went to the reasonably good looking wife of the butcher, Judas hadn’t considered kissing her. But if Sandy was desperate for some lip action, there was bound to be some lonely woman about who’d let him console himself in her arms. Were funerals also places to grab a chance for some sex? He’d never thought about it before, but perhaps the faking of uncontrollable grief was a good prequel to a sly fuck.

If this was the case, is that what Sandy expected to gain? His strange behaviour before now seemed like an obvious come on. Why hadn’t Judas realised? Guys don’t normally compliment each other on how good-looking they are unless they’re queer. So Sandy was gay. How did that go down in such a small village?

These random revelations tumbled around in Judas’s head while he felt the soft stroking of Sandy’s fingers against his neck. Slowly, Sandy traced his index finger along Judas’s jaw. “Take a chance, Jude. You might like it.”

“I won’t.” Judas swallowed hard. He began to feel dizzy, probably due to taking in too much information at once. What if he threw up? He’d nothing against queers. He doubted that he’d ever met any, but what harm were they doing? Their choice to fuck each other left more snatch for the likes of him. And of course lesbians were hot as Hell. To heave down the front of Sandy’s suit in response to the advances would no doubt create the wrong impression. Carve him out as a homophobe, which he really wasn’t.

“Just one kiss.” Sandy’s words came out like a sigh. “If you don’t like it, we can stop.”
Up close, little details about Sandy’s physical appearance became more noticeable. His eyelashes were very full and long for a guy. The natural creases on his lips, no doubt left there from years of pouting, were really not that unappealing. Judas had already surmised that to find a male attractive made another male gay. He now felt drawn to the notion of this one kiss. Perhaps he could call it the ultimate act of defiance. He’d get off with a guy at his mother’s funeral. People already thought him despicable. Would that make him worse?

Someone had put music on downstairs. Nothing appropriate for the occasion. So to the surreal strains of Adam Faith crooning out “Daddy, What’ll Happen to Me,” Sandy gently pressed their mouths together. He boldly slid his lips with such insistence that Judas felt he had little choice but to part his own. The flavour of beer tingled on his taste buds when Sandy’s tongue brushed briefly into his mouth, and rather than reject the advance, Judas felt the urge to embrace it. As well as the smell of alcohol, the slightly lavender scent Sandy wore, which was the same as the stuff that he’d put in the bath, seemed to cover him. As Sandy deepened the kiss, now holding Judas’s head tightly in both of his hands, Judas found himself reaching out and holding the guy’s waist. He closed his eyes.

Raw strength enhanced the skilful movements of Sandy’s tongue as he explored Judas’s mouth. When men kissed each other, was there no need for tenderness? Girls rarely appreciated being pounced on and manhandled. Well not the ones Judas had encountered. He was no expert in seduction, but even he started slowly when engaged in the pursuit of teenage kicks. Being just as horny as each other, did guys simply go for it? If they did, they had it fucking made. No chit chat. No need for inane smiling at each other.

We both know the score—wallop.

Posted in Available Books, Katsura and Yuramei, Tokyo Beat (Yaoi) | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

New line: Gay and GLBT YA/New Adult Romantic Fiction launches at Ai Press!!

kpPressLogocAi Press is proud and happy to announce the Kokoro Press imprint- a new line of GLBT fiction! Kokoro Press titles are for reader who like gay romantic fiction that doesn’t necessarily fit into the stricter requirements of erotic romance. Kokoro Press stories provide the same great characters and engaging plots to satisfy your soul yet they may or may not have eroticism and they may or may not have HEA (Happy Ever After) endings. Please check the ratings provided for each title as you browse. We hope you will try a Kokoro Press title from some new and well-loved GLBT authors!

Final Destiny23webFinal Destiny
Author: Jeff Erno
Genre: GLBT, Gay romantic fiction; Paranormal
Length: Novella
eISBN: 978-1-937796-44-0
MSRP: 5.99
You pay: 3.49

Kokoro Press Ratings:

Happy Ever After (HEA) – YES
Flame Rating (Follows All Romance Ebook guideslines) – 1 flame- Stories will either not have consummated love scenes, or if the loves scenes are consummated detail is not given.

Damien and Christian are best friends with VERY different destinies. One faces eternal bliss while the other is headed straight to hell. Read an excerpt|Buy e-book

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FaeryTaleweb23Faerie Tale
Author: Dennis Lawrence
Genre: LGBT/Gay contemporary
Length: Super novel
eISBN: 978-1-937796-21-1
MSRP: 8.99
You pay: 4.99

You pay: 4.99

Kokoro Press ratings:

Heat rating: 3 Flames – Stories will have sensual, yet more explicit love scenes, and the language used to describe them may be more graphic and direct.
Happy Ever After (HEA) – Yes

Cover art: Les Byerley

Critical success, sudden fame, toe-curling sex with the man of your dreams, a back-up best friend in the wings, friends with potentially life-shattering secrets and heart-breaking, career destroying machinations by someone close to him; just how much of a good thing can a small-city gay guy take?

Whether it’s the depths of despair, endless fame and fortune, or just learning that the real treasures of life can be found in your own backyard, what comes next can happen only in a Faerie Tale. Read excerpt | buy e-book

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The Sushi Chef (A Novel)
Author: David De Bacco
Genre: LGBT; Contemporary Fiction
Length: Novel
eISBN: 9781937796143
ebook MSRP: 7.79
You pay: 5.79

Kokoro Press ratings:

Heat rating: 2 flames- Stories will have some love scenes. These will be more sensual then graphic and will mostly rely on euphemism.
Happy Ever After (HEA) – NO

“In order to receive love, we must first love ourselves.” Every self-help book on love and relationship tells us this basic principle. Intellectually we know it’s true, but what happens when one man embraces it with his heart and soul, attempting to make it a real, living force in his life? This first novel by acclaimed West Hollywood food columnist and restauranteur, David De Bacco, has the power to touch lives. Sometimes it’s not about the…Read and excerpt|Buy e-book

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Now Available: Owned By TJ

OwnedbyTJ24Owned By TJ
Author: Jeff Erno
Genre: GLBT/Erotica/BDSM/Authoritarian – Dom/sub (see publisher’s warning)*
Length: Novel
eISBN: 978-1-937796-34-1
MSRP: 7.99
You pay: 4.99

Cover art: Les Byerley

Buy from BN Nook|AllRomance Ebooks

Bookish, nerdy Jason has always secretly worshiped hot jocks like TJ. When he ends up TJ’s sex slave, he is desperate to escape. All seems hopeless until a new, desirable Master emerges…

*Publisher’s warning: This book contains scenes of forced male/male intercourse, forced oral sex, water sports, forced sexual slavery, humiliation and more. Not for the faint of heart! You’ve been warned.

Jason has always fantasized about jocks, and one in particular looms larger than life in his fantasies. TJ is the most popular jock on campus. He’s muscular, self-confident, and charming, with a cocky, authoritative attitude. Jason dreams of a day when TJ will notice him and become his bud.

However, when TJ finally does notice him, what TJ has in mind is FAR from friendship. Quickly Jason discovers a cruel, sadistic side of his former hero and before he even knows what’s happening, he finds himself trapped into sexual servitude unlike anything he could ever have imagined. Any attempt to free himself from TJ’s control proves futile, and Jason finally resigns himself to the fact that he’ll remain TJ’s slave indefinitely…that is, until another Master emerges. One Jason would submit himself to gladly…body and soul.

Excerpt:

Chapter One
Introduction

From the time I was old enough to know what an erection was, I worshipped jocks. I knew at a very young age that I loved self-confident, arrogant men, and I always felt a certain excitement when in the presence of guys like this. Even though the type of guys I idolized didn’t give me the time of day, I still worshipped them. I got a boner sometimes just looking at a hot, cocky jock.

When I was a college freshman, I secretly idolized one jock in particular. We’d attended the same high school, and I’d known him since the ninth grade. His name was Tim, but everyone called him TJ. He was like a total god to me, the absolute man of my dreams. Not only was TJ on the college wrestling team, he also was incredibly hot looking. He maintained a perfectly chiseled physique, was tall, broad-shouldered, and blond. He kept his hair cut really short and always wore the coolest clothes. And he didn’t hesitate to peel off his shirt on a summer day as he walked down the street. Few people had the balls to challenge him due to the obvious air of confidence he exuded.

TJ didn’t know I even existed. The few times I got lucky enough to actually be in his presence, he didn’t notice me. Nonetheless, I just observed him, watching from afar and fantasizing about being his friend. My fantasies would then expand, and I’d think about different scenarios where we’d be together. Sometimes I fantasied about more than just being with TJ. I imagined I was like him, a popular jock who loved to stare at my own reflection in the mirror, and who had countless friends and admirers.

I would never be like him, though. He and I were opposites, and I knew we’d never so much as become friends. Still, I yearned for him to befriend me and even allowed myself to visualize us as best buds. He’d drape his arm around my shoulder, playfully slug my bicep. We’d hang out together, go cruising in his sports car. Although my dream was far-fetched, I couldn’t help myself. TJ was my hero.

The thing I learned from my experience with TJ was that sometimes you should be very careful about what you wish for. What began as an innocent crush on my part ultimately became an obsession. The obsession, though, wasn’t my feelings for TJ, but rather his love of the power and control he held over me. He eventually gained the ability to manipulate me in ways I never could have imagined, and the more power he wielded, the more his appetite for it seemed to increase. Eventually I became his property, and every day of my existence was a complete living hell. This is how it all happened:

Doing TJ’s Homework

I’m not exactly sure why I signed up for chemistry. In high school, I was never great in science, and I quickly realized the college course was way over my head. My only salvation was this nice guy named Steve, who sat next to me and offered his assistance. The one secret benefit to the class was that TJ was also in it. I actually shared two classes with him. In addition to chemistry lab, we also shared a political science class.

Many times during the hours I spent in chemistry lab, I found myself fixated on TJ. I sat behind him, so I stared at his broad shoulders and backside. I watched him intently as he rose from his seat and strutted over to get another beaker. I could see his biceps flexing as he leaned back in his chair and raised his arms over his head to stretch. He was totally awesome.

One day while sitting at my workbench trying to figure out a chemical compound, I looked up to see TJ staring at me. He had turned in his seat and was facing my direction. As we made eye contact, I immediately became self-conscious and looked back down at my project. When I looked up a few seconds later, I saw him still staring at me. My cheeks became warm, and I squirmed a bit on my stool. Why was he staring at me like that? I thought I was the one who was obsessed with him, but now suddenly it was like he couldn’t keep his eyes off me.

TJ’s mere gaze made me nervous. In a strange sort of way, it seemed he possessed a sense of control over me that I didn’t understand. I started to feel a little bit giddy. I thought maybe he had some feelings for me, similar to those I had for him.

Later that evening while alone in my room, I realized my thoughts were irrational. Why would a jock like TJ even give two shits about a pipsqueak like me? I was nothing to him. Everyone idolized heroic TJ, but I was a complete nobody. Scrawny and weak, I stood only five and a half feet tall and weighed just 125 pounds.

But why was TJ staring at me like that? Had he been preoccupied and his gaze accidentally fell upon me? I’d definitely been guilty of that sometimes myself. I’d be daydreaming about something, just staring off into space, but then suddenly realize I was looking directly at someone.

This didn’t seem to be the case, though. TJ’s stare had seemed deliberate. His eyes weren’t glazed over, and he wasn’t daydreaming. He looked right at me, as if trying to make me uncomfortable. Well, if that was his intention, he succeeded. Several hours later, I still ruminated over what he’d done to me. I became excited as I thought of the power he held over me, and I had to touch myself. I stroked till I came, all the while visualizing TJ’s steely glare.

The following day, TJ and I again made eye contact. This time, though, it didn’t end there. He casually motioned to me with a quick movement of his head, calling me over. My nervous hands dropped the textbook I was holding as I immediately slid off my stool. When I approached his bench, he no longer looked at me, but had instead refocused his attention to the project he was working on. I stood there silently for a few seconds, afraid even to speak. Finally after a few moments, when I realized he wasn’t about to say anything, I mustered my courage and squeaked out a salutation. “Hi,” I said. “Did you want me?”

“Huh?” he said, seeming annoyed by my distraction.

“Sorry,” I said. “My mistake.” I quickly turned to head back to my seat.

“You’re gonna do something for me,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Um, sure,” I cheerfully replied, quickly turning to face him again. “Sure, what do you need?”

“It’s not about what I need,” he said, still not looking at me. “It’s about what I want. I got a lot a shit goin’ on right now, between homework and sports and shit. You’re good in school, right?
You get good grades and stuff?” Finally he looked up at me, staring me straight in the eye.

“Yeah, I guess. I get A’s, if that’s what you mean. Though chemistry kinda sucks. Not my best subject.”

“I want you to start doing my poli-sci homework.”

Suddenly I felt queasy. This jock was asking me—no, telling me—he wanted me to cheat by doing his homework assignments for him. I’d never cheated for anyone, and certainly didn’t want to start now. “But, um, won’t that be cheating?” I asked meekly.

“Are you deaf?” He sounded even more irritated. “I told you what you were gonna do, and you’re gonna do it. I didn’t tell ya you could ask questions about it. If you don’t do it, then there’ll be consequences. You understand?”

For a few seconds I stood there in shock, not really knowing what to do, but then a thought flashed through my mind. All this time I’d been praying that TJ would notice me, and I’d been fantasizing about how it would be to have him as my friend. This could be the perfect opportunity to become his friend. If I agreed to help him, he would surely like me. Plus, if I refused him, he’d probably beat the crap outta me. “Um, I’m sorry. Sure, I understand. I’d be glad to do it for you. I’ll bring your assignments to chemistry every week so you have them before poli-sci.”

“Cool. Now get away from me. I gotta concentrate on this project.”

“Okay, sorry.” Smiling to myself, I turned and headed back to my seat.

Posted in Available Books, BDSM, Dark Sins, Jeff Erno | Leave a comment