What Are AmberPax™ Collections?

Simply put, AmberPax™ Collections are groups of five stories centered around a specific theme. Each story within an AmberPax™ is released individually, on the same day as the others, and can be purchased separately, but these five stories can also be purchased as a single unit (the full AmberPax™) at a discount, currently 25%. Generally, an AmberPax™ is similar to an "anthology" of stories, but instead of the titles being released in only a single volume (file), they are also available individually. These AmberPax™ Collections are sold exclusively through our website and only in electronic format.

THIS BLOG is for news about the Pax Collections - follow it to keep up with releases, find early news of the upcoming collections, and share Pax fun and chat with the authors!

All Amber Paxes can be bought at Amber Quill HERE.

Saturday, 21 June 2014

Haunting Words giveaway winner

What a week! But it's not over yet. It's Saturday, which means it's time to pick the winner for the Haunting Words pax!

And the winner is...

Jen CW!

I have your email, so expect to hear from someone from Amber Allure very soon.

Don't forget to check back with us in July when our next pax, Edge of Danger, brings you five stories that put our heroes in peril. See you then!

Thursday, 19 June 2014

Hidden Messages by Michelle Robbins

What has always interested me about Horror’s subgenre, Hauntings, is the focus of spinning a morality tale.  Certainly, an author works to enhance the creep factor, done by Horror’s inversion of normalcy, but within the spectrum of haunted fiction there is always a sense that a message is trying to get through.  (Apropos to “haunting” itself?)  An author of that sub-genre is challenged with two fundamental questions:  What do I want to say?  What message is so critical for a soul to split the veil between worlds to tell it?

The questions above—both asked and answered—are what makes for powerful, extraordinary fiction. (Will anyone ever forget, “That’s a big Twinkie”?)  There are some things that we, humanity, will always wonder about.  Those are the archetypal topics often found in “haunted” fiction.

For me, I used Stir of Souls to discuss two critical messages.  One, an ongoing sickening act found in the human flesh trade, the stealing of intersexed and pre-surgery transsexual teenagers for the darkest of tastes; and two, the loss of a relationship.

It’s no secret that the Michelle Robbins books are arguments against the loathsome criminality of childhood abuse.  I believe that only Ides of March and Rockin’ the ‘Nog don’t contain these elements. Everything else I’ve produced for Amber Quill (Allure as well as Heat) touches on the lifelong consequences of childhood abuse.  As such, it’s no surprise that Stir of Souls reaches into this often-painful area as well. 

There, I discussed Kleinfelter’s.

Kleinfelter’s is a genetic complexity of the male/female chromosomes.  Basically, a boy baby is born with two XX chromosomes.  Thus, he is (in layman’s terms) half boy and half girl (ie: XXY). For some this is the Holy Grail of perversions.  Criminals steal these teens and market them to the highest bidder.  The villains have also have been known to hormonally induce lactation in order to fulfill this perversion’s highest fantasy.

When I read about this, I screamed in horror and had nightmares for months.  As a survivor of the Triple Crown of childhood abuses, my mind cringed from the reality.  In many ways, and with respect to different perversions, poor Sven’s story could have been mine. 

This phenomenon is horrible, horrifying, and sickening.  It must be brought to light and expunged. As such, it was a perfect topic for Horror/Hauntings. 

Atop of that, I was in the midst of severing the relationship I’d written about inside In Training. Nothing negative or anything, my Seth and I simply faced divergent life paths.  I wish him nothing but the best, as I’m sure he wishes the same for me. 

Both he and I are metaphysically based and our views on life are somewhat skewered for a different reality.  The life questions of “why” are often viewed through a different lens than many. In our understanding, we know people in “this” life just as we knew them in the past life…and the future one. People will always find familiar souls; with those souls the challenges of “this incarnation” are faced, experienced, and resolved. 

So, it came to pass that both he and I realized that what we’d needed to learn from each other had been learned.  Consequently, it was time to move on to the next life lesson but make no mistake, it’s hard.  I will miss him and will always search for him.  Such is the connection I believe that exists between us. 

For Stir of Souls, I delivered that metaphysical lesson via the ghost’s visitations to our hero, Luis. For me, was there anything more important to say to the living than how much you love them? I can’t think of a thing beyond that.  Readers will find that message in the chapter’s headings as well as narrated via what transpired between Luis and Seven.

I cried my way through Stir of Souls but by the end of the story I felt a sense of peace, a sense of healing.  I had the strength to move on with my life without regret.  It is my hope Stir of Souls reaches out to you, dear readers, and touches your hearts as well. 

The answers for many life’s questions and challenges is simple.  LOVE.


Stir of Souls by Michelle Robbins 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!

Wednesday, 18 June 2014

Another excerpt from The Paranormal Detection Agency by Anne Brooke

“Please,” I said to Mr. Riley, with a wave of my hand, “come and sit down, and tell me your situation.”

As he turned toward the threadbare red sofa lurking like a familiar in the corner of the office, the imp spat a swift jet of water in my direction, and I only just managed to dodge it by leaping sideways and slamming my leg right against my desk. The trouble with water-imp spit was how it was only visible to other people once it hit you and tended to be a particularly nasty shade of green. Something to do with their origins in the sea, I believed, though nobody ever knew for sure, and the imps weren’t telling.

As I stifled a swift curse for the sake of professionalism, Mr. Riley’s gaze swung back to me. “Are you all right?”

“Oh yes,” I lied, attempting to smile and rub my leg without appearing to be too weird. “I’m fine. Please, Mr. Riley, do sit.”

“Thank you,” he said with a frown and did so. I joined him. “But call me Aaron. Mr. Riley sounds too much like my father. If he knew I was here, he’d probably kill me.”

“Which wouldn’t be a problem for me, though payment might be trickier,” I said, only half-joking before realizing how off-the-wall it would sound to anyone who wasn’t a detective of the paranormal. “Sorry. I mean I’m sure it won’t come to it.”

Before I could dig myself any deeper into the hole I’d started, Aunt Miranda returned carrying a tray loaded with steaming mugs of tea and coffee, a matching sugar bowl and milk jug, and a vast plate of hobnobs.

Thank heavens for hobnobs. They solved a wide variety of ills.

“Here you are, dears,” Miranda sang out, leaning over to deposit her goodies on the table and almost depositing her substantial breasts in Mr. Riley’s—Aaron’s—face as well. He blinked wildly and veered backward in an attempt to avoid the less-than-buried treasure, at the same time as the water-imp flung himself right on top of Miranda’s greatest assets with a merry cry.

Water-imps were rather partial to breasts. I might have forgotten to mention this, though, as a gay man, breasts didn’t come onto my radar. Miranda couldn’t see what Aaron had brought in—she didn’t have the gift—but she could certainly feel it. She let out a fearsome shriek as the creature scrabbled across her skin and the tray dropped the rest of the way to the table. Somehow, Aaron saved it from disaster, though a large dollop of milk landed with a splash on the floor. I leapt up and pulled the imp away from my aunt’s chest before throwing it across my desk, where it landed with a thump and a furious chattering on my computer keyboard. I only hoped the dryness of my latest financial reports might keep it busy for a while.

Miranda rearranged her front, wiped up the milk with her handkerchief and harrumphed before tip-tapping back to her desk. I smiled as sanely as I could at my potential new client before sitting back down on the sofa. Aaron’s gaze was fixed on mine. “Hobnob?” I asked him.


The Paranormal Detection Agency by Anne Brooke 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!

Tuesday, 17 June 2014

Two steps from the truth? - that's No Angel!

Two events in my own life prompted this story. The first was shameful voyeurism! One evening in my local supermarket, I watched as a very attractive young man leaned over to reach some fruit at the back of a counter, and his male companion pinched his arse! They were killing themselves laughing, and all I could do was wonder about the story behind that pinch - and why I'd probably never have had the nerve myself to do it, to that young man or *anyone* LOL.

The second event was an evening out at a restaurant, years ago when I was still dating, and I was meant to be having a romantic one-on-one meal with a potential new boyfriend. Yet I kept feeling eyes on me, someone watching. Once, when my companion (who never actually got beyond potential, by the way LOL) leaned over to stroke my hand on the table, I swear I heard a chuckle behind me. I twisted around in my seat but there was no one in the restaurant by then except for us. I blamed it on my over-active imagination!

But maybe it had been true. Maybe someone *was* watching me, someone I couldn't see. And rather than some kind of guardian angel - were *they* some kind of voyeur as well?!

That all set the characters I wanted for NO ANGEL - the sensible Felix, who worries about shopping and working and keeping his family afloat, and not allowing much time for romance for himself. Mickey, his new and seriously hunky boyfriend who's much more laid-back - and yes, who *would* pinch someone in a supermarket! And then the third member of their relationship - the invisible Bryn, a ghost with twenty more years of having fun beyond Felix's experience, a lecherous eye, an obscene sense of humour, and a total lack of discretion :)

Let me know what YOU think of the gang in NO ANGEL, will you?!


No Angel by Clare London 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!

Monday, 16 June 2014

The Ghost of Get Me Some Corners by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly


It's not always fun being alone especially when you're a ghost. In my initial idea, Get Me Some Corners was the place to go when you wanted to get you some. Gay men knew what that code word meant back in the day when gay bars were all hidden away in dark corners. 

But other things can lurk in dark corners besides sex. And what if those "other things" are compelling you to hang around and find out about secrets that have been kept for many years? 

There is some great sex to be had in Get Me Some Corners but there also might be a price to pay. Maybe they want you to stay…forever. 

When Ian is transferred from the big city, he fears he might be the only gay man in town. He isn't. Gay men have been around for quite some time in this quaint little town but they all might not be alive.  

There is nothing more fascinating and terrifying than a ghost story. And that’s why writers like to write them and readers like to read them.

What do we know about ghosts? Well, contrary to popular belief, most ghosts are not seen wandering around in cemeteries, but rather are found in houses and buildings. Why do the dead hang around and tease the living?

Some believe ghosts are trapped. They don’t know they’re dead. Some stay because their bodies were never buried, never discovered. Some were murdered and they revisit their deaths over and over. Sometimes they seek justice or even revenge for what was done to them in life. Some have some unfinished business. They need to keep a promise to someone or even to warn them about something. Sometimes their emotional ties to a place are too strong and they can’t break away. 

Or perhaps the ghost itself is evil and is being punished by not being allowed to move on.

Whatever it is, it’s intriguing. It can be exciting, terrifying and even deadly. 


When D.J. first proposed this idea to me, I thought, "Wow! How cool!" I've always adored romantic ghost stories such as The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, Topper, and of course, Ghost. I've always loved the idea of love being so strong that even death cannot conquer it.

Of course, in The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, the love and the passion though simmering, remain chaste until Mrs. Muir dies. As he spirit departs this world, her crusty old sea captain is there waiting to join her on "the other side." 

Romantic? Yes, and undeniably unforgettable. But sexy? Well…maybe not. And what about Ghost? Patrick Swayze has to communicate with his grieving widow via a wacky psychic and though it's funny and memorable and emotionally satisfying, nobody could imagine Demi Moore and Woopi Goldberg (possessed by Swayze) doing the funky chicken.

So. I loved this updated idea and enjoyed the whole realm of possibilities it presented. I thought the sex was hot, hot, hot. No longer did I have to wonder what Rex Harrison's sea captain character did once he got his hands on his sweet, sad, widowed woman.

I could see it. Well, imagine it, because the first sex scene D.J. wrote involved numerous people but it's dark and well, crowded.

Holy ménages, Batman!

I liked the idea of a new guy coming to town and looking for action. Ian doesn't expect the kind of heat he experiencess. When D.J. first laid out the story I was intrigued. Ian's employee, Steve, is a guy who's local. I thought it would be cool if Steve (my character) had experienced the Ghost of Get Me Some Corners.

Of course, we have sex and love and tons of romance in this book, but I can't help thinking of the actual ghost of Get Me Some Corners. I hope that in his misty world he finds true love, that he finds someone who wants him too. 

I am reminded of a lovely quote by Benito Perez Galdos: "I believe that if I should die, and you were to walk near my grave, from the very depths of the earth I would hear your footsteps."

That to me, is what love, and this book I have come to cherish, is all about.


The Ghost of Get Me Some Corners ~ Synopsis:

When Ian gets promoted and transferred to head up a new office for his computer firm in Greenhill Groves, it seems a great boost to his career, but he also suspects it might just be the death knell regarding his sex life. Then, with the help of his hot assistant Steve, Ian learns about a happening dance club located at the end of a dead end street, a legendary spot that gay men used to refer to back in the 1970s as “Get Me Some Corners.”

One night, loaded with high expectations, Ian decides to check out the hook-up joint. To his surprise, he not only meets a gorgeous guy named Zach, but also has the best sex of his life in the club’s darkened back room with multiple partners.

But despite all this, Ian can’t shake the notion that something isn’t quite right at the bar...not quite right at all...

Genres: Gay / Paranormal / Ghosts / Hauntings / Suspense / Thriller / BDSM (Light)/ Ménage (M/M/M) / Group Sex 
Heat Level: 3 
Length: Novella (23k words)


The Ghost of Get Me Some Corners by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly 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! 

Sunday, 15 June 2014


Genres: Gay (M/M) Paranormal Romance

The titles listed below comprise the Haunting Words 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. 

The Ghost of Get Me Some Corners
The Ghost of Get Me Some Corners
by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly
No Angel
No Angel
by Clare London
Extended Novella
The Paranormal Detection Agency
The Paranormal Detection Agency
by Anne Brooke
Stir of Souls
Stir of Souls
by Michelle Robbins
Extended Amber Kiss
by L.A. Witt
Extended Amber Kiss

In conjunction with our newest release, we will be having a giveaway! Any comment made from today throughout the week (6/15-6/20) will be eligible to win the entire pax collection. A winner will be picked at random on Saturday from all comments received.

Friday, 13 June 2014

Vibrations by L.A. Witt

Nate Bard is at his wit’s end. There’s something living—or not living, as the case may be—in his house, and if he ever wants to sleep again, it needs to go. Ever the skeptic, Nate balks at his sister’s suggestion of bringing in a psychic, but after another sleepless night, he’s desperate.

Enter Isaac Lane, the hot psychic who immediately senses both the ghost and the homeowner’s doubts.

Within minutes of Isaac’s arrival, weird things start happening. Though Nate hasn’t had a clue what’s been making this ghost so restless, now it seems the ghost is bent on getting the two men together. And neither Nate nor Isaac is able—or willing—to resist.

Genres: Gay/Paranormal/Ghosts/Hauntings
Heat Level: 3
Length: Extended Amber Kiss (11k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...Behind me, the sliding glass door closed, and footsteps approached. I spun around, certain I was about to be face to face with nothing again, but it was Isaac.

He stopped, showing his palms. “Easy. It’s just me.”

I slouched against the railing. “Fuck. I’m going crazy.”

“A lot of people think they’re going crazy when things happen that they can’t explain.”

“Well, that’s why you’re here.” I ran a shaking hand through my hair. “To explain this shit so I don’t lose my mind.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Isaac touched my arm, and I expected electricity to shoot through my skin at the touch, but nothing happened. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

I met his eyes. That was strange. Now he was a few inches away from me, touching me, looking at me, and I didn’t have that weird flustered feeling anymore. That wasn’t to say I’d suddenly stopped being attracted to him. Quite the opposite. It was like something had been fogging my thoughts before, and now I was looking at him with a sense of clarity that had inexplicably abandoned me as soon as I’d laid eyes on him. And with the memory of that “oh my God I want you” attraction still simmering beneath the surface, I still wanted him. Badly. I just felt like I was a bit more in control of those thoughts. It reminded me of those wild nights in my younger days when I’d hook up with someone while we were both drunk, and the next morning, I’d realize, “Hey, I really am into you.”

Except I hadn’t been drunk when Isaac showed up. And if I had been, I sure wouldn’t have sobered up in the time it took a ghost to grab my balls and send me out onto my back deck to catch my damned breath.


I rubbed a hand over my face. “I’m sorry. Just…rattled.”

“It’s okay.” He released my arm, and I caught myself wishing he hadn’t. He gestured over his shoulder at the kitchen. “So what exactly happened in there?”

I swallowed. “I…I was making coffee, and there was someone in the room. I thought it was you. I was sure it was you.”

“Right, because there’s no one else here.”

“No, it—” My teeth snapped together. As I replayed that bizarre moment in my mind, I couldn’t explain it, but I had been certain the person in the room with me was Isaac. Even now, knowing Isaac had been elsewhere, my mind’s eye insisted that was Isaac...

Thursday, 12 June 2014

Stir of Souls by Michelle Robbins

On one side of the Atlantic exists a gorgeous abductee consigned to horrors aboard a modern-day slaver’s transport. Wrapped in unspeakable torments of body and soul, Sven struggles to keep alive the small children who shared his prison, at the cost of his own life, if necessary.

On the other side of the Atlantic lives a cop determined to rescue victims before the worst happens. Luis’ efforts, however, fall short, and he discovers Sven among the dead. Agonized, tormented, Luis struggles to find meaning in these horrific events and questions why he’s been called so strongly to someone he’s never met.

True, Luis has never met Sven in this lifetime, but their souls have known and loved in past lives, and they may do so again if Sven’s ghost has any say in the matter...

Genres: Gay/Paranormal/Ghosts/Hauntings/Interracial/Multicultural
Heat Level: 3
Advisory: This book contains some subject matter that may not be suitable for the more sensitive reader.
Length: Extended Amber Kiss (14k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...Uncomfortable moments passed as Luis waited for his body to acclimate. When it did, he counted fifty beds. Thirteen stood empty, but for a wafer-thin mattress. Thirty-seven had a dirty sheet and a threadbare, warehouse-type blanket. No pillows. No bathroom either, just the pots.

Six backyard storage sheds had been erected against the eastern wall. “Testing rooms,” they were called in the lingo used by these freaks. Evidence teams worked each one, determined to discover, retrieve, and log each microbe of DNA and strand of hair.

Ditto those who worked the main room and investigated every centimeter.

Christ, he loved those lab geeks. They’d rescued more delicate cases than he could count.

Pushed against the southern wall was a shipping container, the kind that carried light industrial or dry and packaged supplies. Red and rectangular, the steel loomed with chilling and merciless sentiment. It looked like the kind that rode ships and trains worldwide. It also looked like the walls of the container that had held Sven, visible on that hell-born video feed.

It had been shoved inside the warehouse in an obvious attempt to conceal its presence. Therefore, it followed that the container held something illegal. And since it was inside this particular warehouse, that “illegal something” was obvious: abducted kids of various ages, races, and gender. Furthermore, it was a hive of activity for the coroner teams, who moved in and out the barn-style doors.

Fifty beds. Thirty-seven used. No one still occupied a bunk bed. Coroner teams marched in and out. The kid had said, “He’s with the others.”

“No!” The word tore from Luis’ throat.

He moved across the warehouse floor by following a path lined by the yellow-and-black police tape and pushed his way past a score of workers to get inside the container. The miasma of death slammed into Luis with the first breath.

The front section was littered with trash, small nests of cloth—blankets?—and corners full of soiled newspapers, vomit, and more waste. The rear section crawled with personnel, who inched their way between bodies.

Dead bodies.

Madonna,” Luis whispered. “Por favor, grant them eternal peace.”

He chanted the prayer like a rosary ritual with every step he took toward the dead. He’d been too late! Merciful God, how could such evil exist within Your creation? He’d prayed… God knew how hard he’d prayed. “Please let me get there in time…” Useless.

Why had his prayers been denied? Why had He let these children be stolen and murdered? Why?

“Villanueva? Over here.”

One of the cotton swab-looking workers waved at him. It took a moment before his brain could find the necessary synaptic bridge to recognize his captain’s voice. Dumont stood beside a blanket-draped body and waved Luis toward him.

“Over here,” called Dumont. “I think we’ve found your boy—er, found the Jorvik abductee.”

Luis forced himself to cross the distance and did so with heavy, careless footsteps. In the back of his mind was a vague squawk regarding the potential damage to evidence. In the forefront, however, all he could focus on was his failure.

He hadn’t been in time. Sven was gone.

When Luis was close enough, Dumont leaned over and pulled back the concealing blanket. Sven, that beautiful boy, lay on the floor in cold, stiff death. Luis fell to his knees as the truth hit him with conclusive force. He’d tried, but in the end, his best hadn’t been good enough...

Wednesday, 11 June 2014

The Paranormal Detection Agency by Anne Brooke

When paranormal investigator Jack Atkinson meets new client Aaron Riley, he doesn't expect the level of attraction he instantly feels for the man. Neither does he expect the kind of haunting Aaron describes, which Jack is determined to solve.

After their first official client meeting, the two men launch themselves into a passionate encounter, which Jack is keen to continue. Aaron's attentions, however, are focused on the need to rid himself of the ghosts haunting his new home.

Jack and his trusty assistant and aunt, Miranda, investigate further, and soon discover how family secrets can run deeper than even Jack imagined. Will the truth destroy Jack and Aaron's budding relationship, or are they strong enough to survive it?

Genres: Gay/Paranormal/Ghosts/Hauntings/Psychic Phenomena/Romantic Comedy
Heat Level: 3
Length: Novella (19k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...By now, I desperately needed to see Aaron’s body. I tumbled him onto the bed and began undoing his shirt buttons. He tried to help me, but I pushed his fingers away. I wanted to do this for myself. And all the time, we kept on kissing each other, which slowed things down, but he tasted so damn good I couldn’t help myself.

Finally, his shirt was open, and I pushed it back over his shoulders. His eyes were shut, and he was panting hard. I could see the shape of his cock straining against the cotton of his trousers, and my own wasn’t far behind. I’d expected him to be smooth-chested and he was. What I hadn’t expected was the elegant dragon tattoo in dark pink and black, which started at his right shoulder and flowed down in a series of swirls and lines to his nipple.

I’d never realized how sexy an inking could be, until now. I bent down and began to lick it, from his shoulder and slowly downward. I took my time, and he stretched out across the duvet, letting me have full access to his skin. Somehow, the urgency I’d had to strip him and fuck him as quickly as I could drifted away, and all I wanted to do was taste him. Not just his cock, but all of him.

My tongue eased down farther, and I reached his right nipple. This was where the tail of the dragon finished, curling around the nipple as if it was holding it in place. I sucked him hard, though I didn’t bite him. Aaron gasped, and his hands came up tightly around me, stroking my hair, running his fingers through it.

He pulled me off and brought my lips down to his again, and I lay fully on top of him, thrusting our cocks, still hidden in our trousers, together. It felt like being a teenager again, doing it this way. Something buzzed in the back of my mind, a psychic interference, but I shoved it down. Right now, the last thing I wanted was an audience, whether dead or alive. Not with this gorgeous man willingly in my bed, just waiting to be unwrapped. It was like all my Christmases come at once, and some.

I needed to get our trousers off. More than this, I needed Aaron’s cock as far down my throat as I could get it before my brain—and anything else—exploded. Still, the moment I pushed myself away from him, I missed the feel of his chest against mine, and he moaned a protest.

It was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard in my life. I shuffled down the bed and undid his zipper, taking care not to catch him as I did so. His cotton briefs were smooth and white, and his cock strained against them. Without more hesitation, I released him and dropped the briefs, his trousers and socks on the floor. His cock sprang upward, rubbing eagerly against my hand. I knew what it wanted—what he wanted—but suddenly I wasn’t ready to give it to him. Not just yet.

No, right now, I wanted to admire him more before I tasted him. I stared at his length and ran one finger up his cock from the base to the tip. There I stroked the skin around his tip, where a silver droplet of pre-cum glittered, and eased my finger back down the other side, drawing the salty liquid with me. I put my finger in my mouth, sucking it clean, and he moaned again.

“Please,” he whispered, breaking the intense silence between us, and all the while his eyes telling me things his lips couldn’t express. “Please.”

I didn’t respond, not in words anyway...

Tuesday, 10 June 2014

The Ghost of Get Me Some Corners by A.J. Llewellyn & D.J. Manly

When Ian gets promoted and transferred to head up a new office for his computer firm in Greenhill Groves, it seems a great boost to his career, but he also suspects it might just be the death knell regarding his sex life. Then, with the help of his hot assistant Steve, Ian learns about a happening dance club located at the end of a dead end street, a legendary spot that gay men used to refer to back in the 1970s as “Get Me Some Corners.”

One night, loaded with high expectations, Ian decides to check out the hook-up joint. To his surprise, he not only meets a gorgeous guy named Zach, but also has the best sex of his life in the club’s darkened back room with multiple partners.

But despite all this, Ian can’t shake the notion that something isn’t quite right at the bar...not quite right at all...

Genres: Gay/Paranormal/Ghosts/Hauntings/Suspense/Thriller/BDSM (Light)/Menage (M/M/M)/ Group Sex
Heat Level: 3
Length: Novella (23k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...My new pal, Ted, put the beer down in front of me then leaned closer. “That’s called Ambrosia. It’s the back room. No guilt, no obligation. Do what you feel and you don’t have to cook ’em breakfast.”

I laughed. “The back room.”

“The back something,” he said with a chuckle.

Just then another guy came up to the bar and signaled Ted, and he walked away.

I drank some of the beer and licked my lips, watching a guy come out of the back room, adjusting his cock in his pants. I needed this. I needed some good old anonymous sex in that back room.

I downed the beer and got off the stool. Slowly, I wandered past the men sitting at the tables, drinking and fondling each other. At the last table, I noticed a man sitting alone. His back was toward me. I wondered what he was looking at since there were no windows. I stood watching him for a few seconds. He had beautiful hair, dark, shiny, long, touching his shoulders. I almost reached out to feel it.

Then he turned and saw me. I took a step back. He was really gorgeous, with a beautiful face, and brilliant blue eyes. He smiled at me, and my knees went weak. “Hello,” he said. “What’s your name?”


“Ian. That’s nice. I’m Zachary. I’ve never seen you here before. You’re new.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I just moved here. I’m setting up a new office for Wizardworld computers.”

He just stared at me.

“Ah, what do you do?” I asked.

“Hang around here waiting for men like you.”

I laughed. “I see.”

He stood, and I saw that he was tall and well built. He wore jeans and a shirt with faded flowers on it. I noticed his jeans were wide-legged. Maybe they were back in style now. His shirt looked rather old.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No. I…just…nice shirt.”

He laughed. “Really? It’s wearing out now.”

“You must like it,” I said.

“Have no choice. It’s my club shirt.”

“Oh, I see.” I smiled at him. “Do you think it helps you get lucky?”

“Something like that,” he whispered.

“My father had an old pair of shoes he wore whenever he went to the horse races. He swore he couldn’t win unless he had them on. They were falling apart before my mother convinced him to give them up.”

“He was superstitious.”


He glanced at the door. “Going in?”

I smiled and nodded. “You?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he replied.

The guy was hot and I couldn’t wait to walk into that room. The fact that he’d be right behind me meant he’d find me and, Lord, I wanted to be found...

Monday, 9 June 2014

No Angel by Clare London

Felix’s life is full, juggling a supportive homelife for his disabled brother, a job as a care home assistant, a brand new boyfriend—and now he’s had his arse pinched by a lewd gay ghost on the late night bus!

If only that were the end of it. But Bryn the ghost follows him home and wheedles himself into Felix’s life. That includes sharing his shameless opinions on the patronising way Felix treats his brother, on how Felix should eat more food and put some flesh on his bones, and—worst of all—exactly how Felix should be getting down to it with his seriously sexy new boyfriend Mickey! And in between all that, Bryn finds time to leer at Felix himself and make outrageous suggestions on what they’d be doing if Bryn wasn’t...well...ghostly.

Felix considers he’s a tolerant guy. But the last thing he needs now is to get wrapped up in the mystery of a missing teenage girl, the inhabitants of a local squat, and conversations with a fire-and-brimstone old preacher. Yet with a nudge or six from Bryn, the help of his brother Patrick, and some cosy loving from Mickey, Felix starts to wonder how he ever thought his life was busy before!

Genres: Gay/Paranormal/Ghosts/Hauntings/Voyeurism
Heat Level: 2
Length: Extended Novella (39k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...It wasn’t that Felix had never been touched up, because he had. He was attractive enough, right? But first, it had been a long time since anyone had bothered. Second, it happened in the small hours of a Friday morning, and lastly—and perhaps most importantly—it was on an all-night London bus where he appeared to be the only conscious passenger.

It was a bloody fierce pinch of his arse, too, gripping a good sized part of his buttock and making an impression right through his jeans. Felix gave a shout of surprise and jerked upright in his seat, peering around for the culprit. The only other person in the back of the bus with him was a very old man with his eyes shut, snoring fitfully on the other side of the aisle. His cheek was squashed up against the window and he clutched a half-filled cup of muddy-looking liquid to his chest. A ragged dog slept equally as soundly at his feet, its front paws stretched out from under the seat. As Felix glared suspiciously at the pair of them, the old man slumped down even farther and snored even more loudly. His cup tipped forward and a trail of cold tea dribbled onto the floor. Felix wrinkled his nose. The old guy smelt dreadful—a mixture of stale urine and the fuel-and-filth smell of living on the streets. What’s more, he didn’t look like he’d be conscious any time soon, let alone try groping anyone.

Felix frowned and leaned back again. The bus shuddered to a halt at a stop about a mile before his flat. No one else got on. He wouldn’t normally be travelling at this early hour—his night shift at the care home usually ran through to seven thirty—but Mrs. Edwards had let him leave early as he’d pulled a double shift twice during the week. So who else would be on the bus at two in the morning? He remembered a group of snickering teenagers on their way home from a club, but they’d left at the last stop. There’d been a couple of pretty young women, too, but they’d gone just before the snickerers, and besides, he knew without a doubt the pinch had come from a male hand. He couldn’t have explained how he knew, but he did. And so did his buttock, which still throbbed from the attack. But there was no one else he could see within pinching distance.

“Oi!” he said aloud, then felt idiotic talking into the silence.

If the driver heard him, he’d be turned off the bus as a drunk. Opposite him, the old man snorted into the worn seat cover and the dregs of his tea plopped onto the floor of the bus. There was no other sound apart from the hissing squeal of the bus’s brakes as it pulled away again from the stop.

Felix tried another low “Hello?”, then glanced around quickly. Nothing moved. No sheepish kid stuck out his tongue, no passing party-goer waved hands at him that had been way too free on his arse already. “Well…just watch out,” he said gruffly, self-consciously, hardly believing he was talking to himself on the bus like one of the nutters who sat next to him so often.

::You felt it! Didn’t you?::

Felix opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again, not sure whether he’d really heard something. What or who was he replying to? He couldn’t see where any voice had come from. A shiver ran down his back.

::You heard me, see? Say something, boy. Tell me you heard me. Come on! Hell’s bells, man, do you know how important this is?::

Felix grimaced and glanced back over at the old man. He was still doing a better impression of a corpse than a ventriloquist. The driver had his back to Felix and was right at the other end of the bus. And there was no one else in sight.

But he could still hear The Voice. A bold cadence to the words, a Welsh lilt of an accent. In his head...