Vive La Difference giveaway winner

Thanks for hanging out with us this week, but since it's Saturday, that means it's time to pick the winner for the Vive La Difference pax!

And the winner is...

Jen CW!

If you could please email me at vivien_dean@yahoo.com, we'll get your prize sorted out as soon as possible.

Don't forget to check back with us in May for our next pax, Purrfect Tales, five stories all about cat shifters. See you then!

A Punny Thing Happened on the Way to the Story by Vivien Dean

It started with a pun.

Generally speaking, I'm not usually a pun fan. I mean, let's be frank. Most of them are pretty groan-worthy. But occasionally, one hits my funny bone, and I can't let it go. That's what happened when I started brainstorming for the Vive La Difference pax. I knew I wanted to write something lighter and contemporary since a lot of my recent work has been paranormal and darker in nature. That's when it hit.

Davy Cockett.

Hee, I can't even type it now without giggling. It appeals to the twelve-year-old boy living inside me. But seriously, I have a weakness for sex puns. When I was in college, I worked for a video store that had an adult section. Porn titles are the best for being punny and over the top. That's their appeal.

The name wouldn't let me go, so I decided to run with it. A porn star felt too obvious, so I settled on the next best thing. A stripper. And what could be more different than a self-confident attractive man who relies on his looks as a career asset?

A man insecure about the way he looks who relies on his intelligence and speaking ability.

Thus, my men were born. Actor Fess Kedley, aka Davy Cockett, and DJ Joe Salinas.

In the story, Fess hears Joe on the radio and falls for his voice long before ever meeting him in person. The best analogy is the one Fess's friends make, that Joe sounds like Alan Rickman minus the English accent. Falling for Joe is pretty inevitable at that point, don't you think? I mean, come on. That voice is sex on a stick:

The fact that Joe is funny, smart as hell, and adorably shy is just frosting on the cake for Fess. Differences don't matter then, don't you think?

*_*_*

What the Heart Thinks by Vivien Dean is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

Spot the Difference by Sean Michael

I have a book in the Vive la Difference PAX release this week: Spot the Difference.

When I contemplated the theme, I thought it would be fun to explore two different areas of BDSM, because there is such a wide variety of practices within the BDSM umbrella. Then it occurred to me that I could highlight those differences if the two subs in question were twins. They look alike, they’re both into the BDSM, must be the same, right? No, not at all, in fact. And thus Christopher and Robin were born (their mother obviously loved Winnie the Pooh.)

Having both recently left Doms who just weren’t right for them, twins Christopher and Robin get together at a coffee house to commiserate. They can’t help but wish out loud for the men they’re looking for. These ideal men are as different as the twins are alike, though, and they lament ever finding two Doms to fit the bill. 

When barista Core asks Robin to go to dinner with him after hearing his wishlist, Christopher can’t help but be jealous of his twin. That soon changes, however, when Darren approaches his table with a few wishes of his own. 

Can Christopher and Robin really both find exactly what they’re looking for on the same night? Or is it too big a coincidence to be real? 

It’s available here at Amber Allure.

Excerpt:

“You want another coffee, honey? I could go another round.” And it would be a good distraction from this particular conversation—a way to change it.

His twin nodded. “Yeah. We have a lot to catch up on.”

“Mocha or caramel this time?”

“Oh, caramel.” Christie rubbed his hands together.

Robin nodded and bounced up to the counter with their cups. “Two caramel lattes please.”

“You got it.” It must have been his imagination, but he thought the barista was giving him a once-over.

“Thank you.” He might have wiggled a little bit. “Extra whipped cream, please?”

“Absolutely. In fact, would you like to try the salted caramel? It’s a new recipe and you’d be the first.”

That deep voice did things to Robin’s insides. “Oh, yes. Please. I’m totally into trying new things.”

The barista’s smile was definitely flirty. Well, maybe more hot than flirty. The guy was, after all, quite the stud. “I like that in a man.”

“Thanks. I’m Robin.” He glanced over to Christie, who gave him a discreet thumbs-up.

“Hi, Robin. You can call me Master Core.”

Robin’s mouth went dry. Oh, God, they had been overheard. “Master Core?”

“My full name is Cornelius, but it’s a little bit of a mouthful when you’re turned over on my lap for my spanking.”

Robin dropped the bag of chocolate covered almonds he’d been playing with, his lips parting. Definitely completely, embarrassingly thoroughly overheard.

Master Core went on. “I hope you’ll give me a try before you put that ad in somewhere.”

Robin’s cheeks were on fire. “And are you an axe murderer?” He had to at least ask, right?

“Nope. Are you?”

He shook his head, chuckling a little. He was more buff than Christie, but neither one of them were super studs. They were both far too close to twink to be mistaken for anything else, really.

“Then go out for supper with me.” Master Core’s smile was enticing. “There’s a club on Dawson Street. Do you know it?”

“The Dog and Duck?” Robin nodded. It was a discreet little BDSM club where men could meet other men who shared the same interests. “I do. I was a waiter there, back when I was a student.”

“We could have a meal, and if we wanted to test the waters, they have back rooms…” Master Core’s words faded away, but it was clear what he was offering.

“I’d like that. When?” If they did something there and it didn’t work, there were ways out. And it was safer than going home with someone you didn’t know.

“I finish at five tonight.”

He checked his phone. That was an hour. Christie would totally understand. “You want to walk over together or meet there?”

“If you’re going to be here another hour, we can walk together.” Master Core handed over Robin’s cups, fingers lingering against his.

“I’ll be here another hour. Thank you, they look amazing.” He gave Master Core one last smile and took the salted caramel lattes to Christie, his eyes wide. He couldn’t quite believe it.

“Look at you, man. You hooked up in a coffee shop.” Christie was going to give him no end of shit.

Robin supposed he couldn’t really blame his twin. “You’re just jealous. He’s hot.”

Snorting, Christie countered with, “He’s not that hot.”

He was, though, no matter what Christie said. Master Core was tall and broad, blond and blue eyed. Kind of like how you’d draw a Greek god, really.

They were gingers, Christopher and him, with eyes the color of cheap whiskey. Not exactly the coloring of a god, Greek or otherwise.

“Okay, so he’s pretty damn hot.” Christie gave Robin a bright smile as he conceded the point.

“You want me to tell him I can go another day? I totally will…” He wasn’t an asshole or anything, so of course he’d stay with Christie if his twin needed him to. No matter how hot and exciting Master Core seemed.

“No. No, the thingie on the door says this place is open ’til midnight. I’m going to sit and read a book or something.”

God, Christie was good to him. Robin rewarded the gesture by teasing. “You know how to read?”

“Shut up.”

He giggled and glanced over at Master Core to find the man staring at him. His cock jerked, started to fill like whoa. God, Master Core had a presence.

Sean Michael

Smut fixes everything

www.seanmichaelwrites.com

*_*_*

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

Another excerpt from Roped In by L.A. Witt & Marie Sexton

Enjoy another excerpt from Roped In by L.A. Witt & Marie Sexton!

*_*_*

I stopped brushing Angel and looked over at Jackson. “What if you’re right?”

“Excuse me?” He met my eyes over Petty Cash’s back.

“So what if I took some kid home? Why should it matter to you?”

“Christ, Graham! Are you kidding? He’s a goddamn punk. A protester. One of those animal rights freaks who doesn’t know the first thing about what we do. After all these years in the rodeo, I can’t believe you can look at him without wanting to punch his lights out.”

“So, that’s the issue? Not that I might have gone home with a man, but that he’s not a cowboy? If it’d been you, on the other hand, it’d be okay?”

“Jesus!” Jackson glanced around the barn, as if we were still at the rodeo and he was afraid of who might hear. “Will you listen to yourself? What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“Maybe I’m tired of lying. Aren’t you?”

I was met by a silence so profound, it scared me. Even the horses froze, as if they could sense the force of his anger and were cowed by it. “I am not like you, Graham. Do you hear me? I’m not like you and your goddamn queer boyfriend—”

“Graham?” a voice called from the front of the barn, and Kaz stepped through the door. “You in here?” He was looking down at the floor, being mindful of the mud and manure getting on his nice clean Converse sneakers, but he finally looked up, and when he saw Jackson, he stopped short. His lips—lips I couldn’t stop staring at—made a soft O of surprise.

Talk about timing.

“Christ!” Jackson swore. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I can go—” Kaz started to say, but I cut him short.

“No.” I leveled a glare at Jackson. “Jackson was just leaving.”

“Seriously? You want to be alone with this fagg—”

“Enough.” The force behind the word was enough to make the horse I was brushing sidestep away from me, but I wasn’t about to let Jackson push me around. Not tonight. “He’s a guest here, and you’re in my barn,” I warned. “On my property.”

“Not for long.”

That was fine with me. He led Petty Cash away while Kaz stood against the wall, avoiding my gaze. Jackson came back from the stall and headed for the door. He made a point, as he passed Kaz, of bumping into him.

Anger flared up in my chest. I took a step forward, but he was already halfway out the door, and Kaz put a hand out to block me. “Let it go,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t mean a damn thing to me.”

“He’s such a narrow-minded asshole—”

“And starting a fight will only validate it. In his mind, at least.”

The wind went out of my sails and I slumped. I heard Jackson’s truck start, and his wheels spinning on the gravel of my drive. I looked down at my boots. “I’m sorry.”

Kaz stepped closer, ducking his head a bit to interrupt my gaze. “For what?”

“For not standing up for you. This time, and the first time, at the rodeo.”

“It’s not me you need to stand up for, Graham. I can take care of myself just fine. It’s you who has to face this. You’re the one who apparently has to explain something to him. Not me.”

The truth of those words made me hang my head.

“Hey.” He moved closer and put his arms around my waist, settling his slim, lean body against mine. “Forget about him, all right?” He kissed my jaw, and my neck. He stood on his toes, and his lips teased gently against my ear. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Such simple words, but they lightened my mood considerably. A slow warmth began to build in my groin, spreading up and out to my limbs. All thoughts of Jackson faded away. “Really?”

He nodded, moving to brush his lips over mine. “Yep. Thinking about exactly how to tie you up…”

The thought caused my mouth to go dry. I had to swallow hard to respond, and even then, all I managed was, “Oh.”

“And all the things I’ll do to you once I get you that way.”

*_*_*

Roped In by L.A. Witt & Marie Sexton is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

Night School Vampire by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly

D.J Manly writes...

Ah night school. It attracts well…let’s say…a unique kind of crowd. The people who work at dead end jobs during the day and really want to move up…they’re at night school…as well as a mix of drop outs, and dreamers, and one or two students you really can’t pigeon hole.

I’ve taught night courses at a couple of colleges in my life.  I’ve seen all kinds of people, and I’ve also seen students I had to wonder about. They were the ones that didn’t fit. You just can’t figure them out no matter how hard you try. They’re usually very bright, and they stick to themselves, don’t socialize with others on the break and they have a particular way of looking at you. These are the ones on the first night who introduce themselves with no more than their name, who don’t go on and on about why they took the course, or how they love their pets.

When I came up with the idea of Night School Vampire, I had only to dip into my past memories of the various students I’d encountered in the courses I’d taught in the Colleges. I could see night school as being the perfect place for someone like Socrates, someone who lived only at night, someone with nothing, but time on their hands. Wow, night school is the perfect place for a… vampire. Got me thinking, I might have even unconsciously ran a hand over my throat as I did…were any of my students back then….ah….naw. 

Everyone knows vampires don’t exist, right?

A.J. Llewellyn writes...

When D.J. first suggested the idea for this story as well as the amazing title, I decided then and there that my character, Devin Gold, who teaches Socrates at night school, that he would have no idea the man he's so attracted to is a vampire.

Not only that, but I decided that Devin doesn't believe vampires exist. In fact, he comes from a long line of people who do believe in them and have spent his entire life from the time he was a toddler, dragging him around in his pajamas when he should have been sleeping, in search of vampires.

This idea came to me after attending a sci-fi convention, and meeting author Whitley Strieber, the man who penned Communion, his non-fiction account of being abducted by aliens.

I witnessed firsthand how so many people remain touched by this book. I thought it was funny that so many wanted to share their own abduction encounters…and that so many more wanted to know how they could be abducted.

Welcome to America, folks, where truth is stranger than fiction. We jostle for space with vampires, werewolves, aliens intent on anal probes (just why are they so fond of those, anyway?) and of course, night school.

I've attended evening college courses myself and it always struck me that the people who attend them want so badly to learn. So many miss out earlier in life and return as adults, though most of them are probably not as old as Socrates, who admits to being four hundred years old.

Or…are they?

Is there a vampire yearning to learn in your night school?

Night School Vampire is available at Amber Quill Press. 

*_*_*

It’s tough being a vampire. For one thing, there’s so much time on your hands. And for another, being undead for centuries means that you meet way too many stupid people...

Socrates Delis, since he has to be awake at night, wonders why he shouldn’t make better use of his time. So to ease his loneliness and hopefully meet a more educated group of people, he enrolls in night school at UCLA’s extension courses and quickly finds that poetry isn’t the only thing on the agenda. Somebody is killing off young gay men around town, and students are nervous. And by the way, didn’t Socrates swear off love? So why’s he finding himself attracted to his hot, human teacher?

Devin Gold loves his work. The great poets are his favorites to share with his English lit students, and while teaching, his life often seems just about perfect. But holy heck, his crazy Uncle Vince just blew into town and has even invaded Devin’s night classes, disrupting his life. Uncle Vince and Devin’s mom think they’re vampire hunters. Devin knows there’s no such thing, and has lived with the shame of their insanity all his life. Now his uncle swears that LA, even night school, is swarming with fangers.

How can Devin keep his sudden attraction to his handsome new student, Socrates, a secret? He’s not sure, but he has to try, especially since his obsessive uncle will undoubtedly insist that Socrates is a vampire. It’s tough being a sane human in La La Land...

Genres: Gay/Dark Fantasy/Vampire/Ménage (M/M/M)/Group Sex/Voyeurism
Heat Level: 3
Length: Novella (25k words)

*_*_*

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

A Writer Writes by Pepper Espinoza

I’ve always been a storyteller, and I always will be, but for a certain dark period, I no longer thought of myself as a writer. My sister and my friends insisted I was still a writer when I expressed my fears that the dream was over, but I never felt reassured. A writer writes, always. If you’re not writing, you’re not a writer, and I haven’t been writing for three years. Oh, I would finish the occasional story, but overall, my motivation, my imagination, and my energy all disappeared. And the longer I went without writing, the more sure I was that I would never start writing again. My time of creativity had come and gone, and though I felt like I lost something precious, I didn’t know how to retrieve it. 

Then Vivien Dean asked me if I could contribute a story of the Vive La Difference Pax. They were one short, and I had a few months before the deadline. 

After I hit my writer’s block (more like a giant brick wall) I fell away from the writing and publishing world, and I regret to say that part of what I lost was my best friend and collaborator. But we started chatting last fall and were in the process of relearning each other’s lives when she invited me to contribute. And I realized she didn’t know the terrible truth that I had come to accept--how could I contribute a story to the collection if I wasn’t a writer anymore? 

But then I thought, she’s always known me better than I know myself, and maybe once again she knows something I don’t know. 

So I said, “Yes, I can do that.” 

The story wasn’t easy. Stephen King once described writing as falling through a hole in the center of the page, and it’s hard to get that portal to open, harder still to have the faith to plunge into the unknown world. But I persisted, and before long, I found a tiny black dot in the center of the page. Soon, that hole widened until I could see some light. Then the shadowy shapes of characters and a world I hadn’t traveled to before. 

I can’t say the process was perfect. I turned the story in late and even lost the contract for a few weeks so I mailed that in late, too! I forgot the art of writing a blurb--a skill that I had honed for years, but had since turned rusty, like any tool too long abandoned. Still, I fell in love with my characters and I wanted, no needed, to see the story through. And I did. To what end? I don’t know. I hope that you, dear reader, fall in love with my boys, too. I hope that you enjoy the story I tried to tell, and I hope you’ll be forgiving of any blemishes--it wasn’t the story’s fault just the fault of its imperfect creator. 

Alfred is an educated, wealthy young man with a world of prospects and opportunities waiting for him. He chooses the path that takes him away from Harvard and across the country of the newly opened University of California in Berkeley. His journey takes an abrupt turn when he’s kidnapped from the wagon train carrying west through Utah and brought to the mountain hideout of the Lyons brothers. They have a task for him, one that he is uniquely suited for, but he also finds something else in the snowy peaks of the Uintah Mountains--a friend. 

*_*_*

Hold the World Together by Pepper Espinoza is now available at Amber Allure.

If you'd like the chance to win the entire pax collection, just leave a comment on today's post. On Saturday, a winner will be picked at random from all the comments made this week on the blog. Comment on all, and that's multiple chances to win!

LATEST PAX RELEASE - Vive La Difference

Genres: Gay (M/M) Erotic Romance

The titles listed below comprise the Vive La Difference AmberPax™ Collection. Buy all five together and receive a 35% discount! To purchase any of the titles individually, click on the covers below to go to the books' separate pages. 

Hold the World Together by Pepper Espinoza Extended Novella (Gay)

Night School Vampire by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly Novella (Gay)

Roped In by L.A.Witt & Marie Sexton Extended Novella (Gay)

Spot the Difference by Sean Michael Extended Amber Kiss (Gay)

What the Heart Thinks by Vivien Dean Novella (Gay)

 

In conjunction with our newest release, we will be having a giveaway! Any comment made from today throughout the week (4/20-4/26) will be eligible to win the entire pax collection. A winner will be picked at random on Saturday from all comments received.

What the Heart Thinks by Vivien Dean

On a scale of one to ten, DJ Joe Salinas considers himself a four, five on a good day. Actor/part-time stripper Fess Kedley is definitely a nine, however, though Joe’s pretty sure that slides into a ten as soon as the clothes come off. So when the outgoing Fess recognizes a shy Joe at a bachelorette party from his midnight radio show and proceeds to ask him out, Joe turns him down, convinced he’s either crazy or stupid.

The only problem is, Fess takes rejection as reason to keep on trying.

The two become unexpected friends, so when the thought of trying a date comes up again, Joe decides to take a chance. Though he doesn’t understand what someone like Fess would see in someone like him, it’s hard to say “no” when everything else feels so right. 

Genres: Gay/Contemporary/Romantic Comedy/The Arts

Heat Level: 3

Length: Novella (23k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...Amidst fifteen giggling women stood a man in buckskins and a coon skin cap, with a plastic rifle thrown over his shoulder and the biggest, most beautiful Colgate smile Joe had ever seen outside of a dental commercial. Blue eyes, dimples, and a fall of blond curls slipping from beneath his hat to flop across his forehead completed the package. His clothes were too baggy to tell, but the body was probably perfect, too. He was a stripper, wasn’t he? That was practically a job requirement.

“Not that I don’t appreciate such a hearty welcome,” Mr. Perfect said. “But I can’t get the party started for real until I talk to someone named Stacy.”

More than one helpful wannabe turned and pointed toward the kitchen. Joe ducked back out of sight before he was spotted, retreating to the farthest corner as he prayed fervently for a hole to open up in the floor so he could disappear for real.

Stacy shot him one last apologetic glance, but as she started to step out to intercept the stripper, he showed up and blocked the doorway.

“Hi,” he said. “A whole bunch of little birdies say you’re Stacy.”

“That’s me. You’re the guy from That’s Strippertainment?”

“Yep.” He touched his finger to his cap, the very model of politeness. “They call me Davy Cockett, ma’am.”

Joe barked in amused disbelief, then quickly covered his mouth and ducked his head to stifle the sound.

“Cute,” Stacy commented. “What do you need from me to get the show going?”

“Some way to play my music. You got someplace I can dock this that’ll give me some decent sound? I like for everyone to be able to feel the beat, if you know what I mean.”

Could this guy get any cheesier? At least Joe was going to have plenty to talk about tonight—wait, King of the Wild Frontier here was looking for a sound system. That meant only one thing.

“You need our resident genius, then.”

Joe looked up in time to come face-to-face with the model of his future mockery. Right now, though, he had to settle for his cheeks erupting in embarrassment.

“That you, dude?” The stripper held out an iPhone in a woodgrain case. “Just plug me in, and I’ll be good to go.”

Joe plucked the phone from his fingers before the heady scent of his cologne—no wonder the girls were going crazy when he walked in, he smelled as mouthwatering as he looked—reduced Joe to a walking hard-on. “Sure thing. Give me five minutes.”

As he brushed past the stripper, grateful at least that he was going to be in the outer room and could make a better getaway, he heard a distinct, “Holy shit.”

That didn’t stop him. Neither did the second set of expletives.

It was the, “You’re Joe Salinas,” that did the trick.

Joe swiveled around and stared at the stripper. The Colgate smile was gone, the square jaw slack, blue eyes now wide with amazement. “I’m sorry,” Joe said. “Do I know you?”

It took a moment for his question to sink in. The stripper blinked once, then shook his head as if coming out of a stupor. “Shit, no. I listen to your show. Every night. Well, almost every night. When I can’t listen to you live, I stream it the next day. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

His earlier embarrassment changed hues, from being seen to being recognized. That never happened... 

Spot the Difference by Sean Michael

Having both recently left Doms who just weren’t right for them, twins Christopher and Robin get together at a coffee house to commiserate. They can’t help but wish out loud for the men they’re looking for. These ideal men are as different as the twins are alike, though, and they lament ever finding two Doms to fit the bill.

When barista Core asks Robin to go to dinner with him after hearing his wishlist, Christopher can’t help but be jealous of his twin. That soon changes, however, when Darren approaches his table with a few wishes of his own.

Can Christopher and Robin really both find exactly what they’re looking for on the same night? Or is it too big a coincidence to be real? 

Genres: Gay/Contemporary/BDSM

Heat Level: 3

Length: Extended Amber Kiss (11k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...It looked like they were both footloose and fancy free again.

Christopher sighed. “Maybe we’re being too picky…”

“Yeah. No one wants…me.”

Christie nodded at his words. “Or me.”

Robin rolled his eyes. “So no one wants us. You want a huge slice of cake and a mocha?”

“God, yes. Chocolate is better than…”

“Sex,” they finished together.

Laughing, they went to the counter and ordered two mochas and a big assed piece of chocolate cake. By the time they’d finished the cake, they were teasing each other, recalling some of the experiences they’d had.

“You remember when you went to that leather daddy club and ended up wearing that feathered jock strap?”

Robin stared at him. “We swore never to bring that up again, Christie!”

“Oh, I have pictures.” Christopher looked smug.

Robin tilted his head, considering. “Who would know it was me and not you?”

They looked at each other and started howling with laughter.

Christopher rubbed his eyes. “You know what we should do? We should write each other personal ads. Who knows what we like better than us?”

Robin chuckled and leaned back. “Okay, I’ll go first. Pushy little bottom needs strict discipline and a firm hand. Sucks like a dream. Responds to punishment and praise.”

Christopher cracked up, applauding. “Very nice.” Then his twin pondered. “Okay, yours. Sassy pain slut needs daily beatings and hourly fuckings. Only men of size need apply.”

“Perfect. Now we just need answers from men who are not axe murders or psycho freaks.” Because that was always the worry, especially with hard core needs.

“That could be a problem.” Christie made a face.

“Yeah.” Robin stirred his coffee. “It’s us, isn’t it?...” 

Roped In by L.A. Witt & Marie Sexton

Graham and his roping partner Jackson have ruled the rodeo scene for ten years running, but lately, Graham’s heart isn’t in the game. He’s tired of the bruises, the cowboy mentality, and the animal rights activists who picket every event. And then there’s Jackson.

Graham and Jackson have been friends since they were boys. But ever since their drunken sexual encounter the year before, things have been awkward. Graham’s accepted that he might be gay, but no matter how attracted he is to other men, he always panics and runs when the clothes start to come off.

Then Graham has a run-in with one of the rodeo protesters, and everything changes. Kaz is young, idealistic, and sexy as hell. And Kaz has an idea for getting Graham past his nerves and into bed.

All they need is a bit of rope. 

Genres: Gay/Contemporary/Cowboys/Western (Modern Day)/BDSM (Light)

Heat Level: 3

Length: Extended Novella (39k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...He grabbed my neck, pulled me down to his level, and kissed me.

He fucking kissed me.

One second we were facing off and playing verbal games, and the next…

Fuck.

I didn’t know this guy from Adam, but I sank into that kiss like I’d been waiting for it all damned night. Hell, maybe I had.

He took the lead, too, raising onto his toes to bring himself up to my height. He gave me a few seconds to get used to the fact that our lips were touching before he curved a hand around the back of my neck, held me against him, and pushed my lips apart with his tongue. I let him in. His tasted like lemonade. His features were finer than any other man I’d ever kissed, but they were anything but feminine beneath my fingertips. Sharp, bold, roughened by the slightest dusting of stubble as I slid my hand across his jaw.

His body was slight, but hardly fragile or delicate. Under all those skater clothes, he felt like he was nothing but lean, fit muscle, and it made my head spin. I suddenly wanted to see it. To know what he looked like naked. I wanted to take him back to the house, get him out of these clothes, and find out—

Find out what it’s like to be in bed with a man?

My stomach flipped. That was the part where everything always went to hell. Where my nerves always got the best of me, some alarm blaring in the back of my brain, and a night that started with a hot kiss ended in tepid, awkward excuses before one of us made our escape.

Kaz broke the kiss and lowered himself back to his normal height, though he didn’t let go of my neck. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m…” Absolutely one hundred percent positive this will end in disappointment. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Good.” Another grin. “That was the idea.” He pushed himself up and kissed me again.

God, his kiss felt good. I wanted to believe this time could be different, but I could already feel those nerves coiling in the pit of my stomach. I pulled away. Not out of his arms, but away from the kiss. “I don’t know how…” Hell, I didn’t even know how to finish that sentence, let alone the rest.

“Do you always get spooked like this? Or is it because of me?”

I laughed nervously. Maybe I should have been embarrassed, but there was something about his no-nonsense attitude that told me it was okay to be honest. “It’s not you.”

He didn’t let me go, though. If anything, his grip on me tightened. He stood on his toes again to touch his lips to mine. “Interesting.” He reached down to brush my erection through my jeans. The tiniest touch, but it took my breath away. “Seems like you’re into it, though.”

“I am.” And it was strange what a relief it was to finally say that out loud. “I just never know what to do. Or how to do it. Or if I should.” I paused, heat rushing into my cheeks. “And I usually freak out. Kill the mood and bolt before we get too far. I kind of…panic.”

He nodded as if he understood. “I could fix that, you know,” he murmured against my lips.

“How?

“Remember when I offered to tie you up like one of your calves?”

Oh. Fuck.

“You were serious about that?”

He shrugged. “Not at the time, but I am now.” He drew back and looked up at me, eyes gleaming with God knew what kind of dirty thoughts. “If you’re game...” 

Night School Vampire by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly

It’s tough being a vampire. For one thing, there’s so much time on your hands. And for another, being undead for centuries means that you meet way too many stupid people...

Socrates Delis, since he has to be awake at night, wonders why he shouldn’t make better use of his time. So to ease his loneliness and hopefully meet a more educated group of people, he enrolls in night school at UCLA’s extension courses and quickly finds that poetry isn’t the only thing on the agenda. Somebody is killing off young gay men around town, and students are nervous. And by the way, didn’t Socrates swear off love? So why’s he finding himself attracted to his hot, human teacher?

Devin Gold loves his work. The great poets are his favorites to share with his English lit students, and while teaching, his life often seems just about perfect. But holy heck, his crazy Uncle Vince just blew into town and has even invaded Devin’s night classes, disrupting his life. Uncle Vince and Devin’s mom think they’re vampire hunters. Devin knows there’s no such thing, and has lived with the shame of their insanity all his life. Now his uncle swears that LA, even night school, is swarming with fangers.

How can Devin keep his sudden attraction to his handsome new student, Socrates, a secret? He’s not sure, but he has to try, especially since his obsessive uncle will undoubtedly insist that Socrates is a vampire. It’s tough being a sane human in La La Land... 

Genres: Gay/Dark Fantasy/Vampire/Menage (M/M/M)/Group Sex/Voyeurism

Heat Level: 3

Length: Novella (25k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...“I’ll take you home. But listen to me, Devin, I can’t stay. I…we can’t be lovers. At least not now, while your uncle is hell bent on my destruction.”

They walked together side by side.

“You know when I was a kid,” Devin said, “it felt like I was in a fantasy world. I heard the whispers, saw the swords, the stakes, the bottles of holy water. I never saw any…anyone like you.”

“They didn’t involve you.”

“Maybe it was my mother’s way of protecting me from the madness.”

“You come from a long line of hunters. At one time, the line was broken. A few generations ago, the family decided not to pursue vampires. Then, the father of your uncle took it up again, your grandfather actually.”

Devin looked at him.

“Your grandfather was murdered by a vampire, a rogue as we call them, one who has no recollections of, or affinity to humans. He was on a train to Amsterdam, and the passengers were attacked. Everyone was murdered except your uncle, who hid in a baggage compartment. He was just a boy and yet the memory of seeing all that carnage and finding his father dead has stuck with him. He is obsessed with killing vampires and yet, he hasn’t really had any proper training. I’m afraid one day he will run across a vampire like one who was on that train, and he or she will kill him.”

“How do you know all this, Socrates?” Devin gasped.

“I saw it in his mind.”

“Then you saw my uncle tonight?”

“Yes, and we made a deal. Right now I am in danger of breaking my promise to him.”

They stopped in front of Devin’s building.

“I must go. I have to get my friend and find an insane mortal.”

Devin came closer. “And kiss me?”

“Ah, Devin, really…I….”

Devin wound his arms around Socrates’ neck. “You’re so sweet.”

Sweet? I almost ripped Lucky’s head off a few minutes ago. Oh well…okay, I guess I could be…oh…kissing.

Devin’s mouth clamped onto his and Socrates lost his train of thought. In fact, he lost all the thoughts in his head. His mouth opened to Devin’s insistence. Sweet. Yes, but Devin was the sweet one. They explored each others’ mouth, but damn it, Socrates wanted to explore far more. Was he going to be able to stop himself? Nope.

Socrates made short work of getting Devin up to his room. “Take off your clothes,” he told him. If Devin was put off by the lust in Socrates’ eyes, he didn’t show it. He tore off his own clothes and slid onto the bed.

Socrates smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

“Now, please, you,” was Devin’s reply.

Socrates slowly removed his shirt, his shoes and socks, then he slid down his jeans and underwear and kicked them away. The lamplight was bright and he stepped into it to allow Devin to really see him. He knew that at night his skin turned lighter than a human’s and smooth. When he hadn’t fed, he could look rather chalky.

Devin reached out for him. “Fuck me...” 

Hold the World Together by Pepper Espinoza

Harvard graduate Alfred Chan jumps at the chance to teach languages at the new University of California, eager to leave his life behind even if it means a dangerous cross-country journey. He knows there are bandits in the western mountains, but he never expects the most infamous of those bandits to stop his wagon train and steal him away into the night.

Sam and Shane Lyons are wanted for robbing stagecoaches and wagon trains across the western territories, and they don’t just take money. Sometimes, they kidnap educated men. A mysterious Chinese scroll holds the promise of a better life for the two brothers, if only they can find somebody able to read the strange marks on the page. They whisk Alfred to their hideout high in the ragged cliffs of the Uinta Mountains, and there, during a brutal winter, they warn him that his life will end if he fails to deliver a full translation.

Alfred knows he should fear for his life, but somehow, when he’s with Sam, he’s not afraid of anything... 

Genres: Gay/Historical/The Old West

Heat Level: 2

Length: Extended Novella (31k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...“The kid doesn’t even know where he is,” Sam said. “Even if he left here and went directly to the nearest sheriff, he’s not going to be able to lead anybody back here.”

“You don’t know that,” Shane insisted. “He’s smart, right? What if he’s got a map in his head and knows exactly where he’s at?”

“You are being paranoid.”

“My paranoia has kept you alive through the years,” Shane countered. “And don’t you forget it.”

“What did you tell him?” Sam asked Mike.

“It’s a treasure map.” Mike looked over his shoulder. “They were talking about a big winter in Rhodes Valley. How are the supplies?”

“Good. We’re not going to be reduced to eating each other.”

Alfred pet Darwin on the nose, rubbing the fuzzy fur between his eyes before turning back to the house. Sam took a deep breath as he watched the younger man approach. He liked the looks of Alfred—and it was only a matter of time before Shane or Mike caught on—and he’d considered bunking down with him more than once. Especially as the nights got colder and longer. And it’d only get worse before it got better.

Sam had never had a woman in his life—besides the few years he had a mother. A whore named Priscilla who took him in after Sam’s mother—a whore herself—disappeared. Nobody knew if she run off or if she had an accident or got killed. Priscilla was also raising Shane, who’d been ten at the time, already a strapping boy and growing rapidly. But boys had their uses, too, in a whore house, and as long as they earned their keep, Priscilla kept them fed and warm and clothed.

By the time Shane was sixteen and Sam was ten, they were on their own. Cheyenne was a busy town, and everybody had a job to do. Shane was old enough to beat the cowboys and soldiers at cards, hustling them with a friendly grin, and Sam lurked in the alleys and stables, mostly looking for honest work. Shane didn’t care how Sam got the money as long as he brought something home, and Sam could usually find work in the stables. But if not, he’d wait for the cowboys who fell out of one saloon, only to stumble into another, and lift what was left of their wages before they could drink it all away.

One night, Shane cheated the wrong man. He’d only survived the encounter because John Hardin’s gun had misfired. Shane had taken advantage of the split second of surprise, punched Hardin with enough force to knock him out, and fled with Sam. After that, they didn’t have much use for towns. And when Sam got old enough for whorehouses, he had no interest. He never met a woman who wasn’t a whore, and doubted he ever would. When Mike fell in with them and took up with Shane, Sam hadn’t been surprised, hadn’t even been annoyed by the interloper in their lives. Mike was a good guy—the only friend either of them had ever had—and they lived a hard, lonely life. Shane deserved to have what happiness he could find.

Shane caught him staring at Alfred and snickered. “Just take him if you want him. Me and Mike can go for a walk, if it’s privacy you want.”

Sam knew that was an option, of course. But not every encounter in a whorehouse came about because of mutual agreement. Sometimes a cowboy showed up with no money but still wanted a poke. Normally, Priscilla could turn the cowboy out, but sometimes they would overpower her, and take what they couldn’t pay for. Priscilla had been a bright woman with a loud laugh, but she’d stop laughing for days, sometimes even weeks, after such encounters.

“It’s none of your concern, Shane,” Sam said harshly. More harshly than he ever spoke to his brother. Shane and Mike exchanged a look before Shane said, “That’s fine, Sammy.”

Alfred looked so small against the snow. After their time together, he knew a little of Alfred’s life. He knew Alfred had been born and raised in Boston, a city much larger than the frontier outpost of Cheyenne. He didn’t have a wife or a fiancée. In fact, it seemed that he had as much experience with women as Sam did, though Alfred’s isolation was entirely self-imposed. He preferred studying languages to socializing, and he’d admitted his mother had been worried because he wasn’t even considering marriage. He also knew Alfred had pretty eyes and nice teeth and the best part of their ride up to the ridge had been the way Alfred wrapped himself around Sam’s back...