A Love Told in Letters by Vivien Dean

Dear readers,

I feel like a neglectful mom at the moment, because I'm currently at RT and I've been wrapped up in that rather than promotion. But this place is insane, with stimuli coming at you from all directions, other authors talking about the craft we love, and everybody wanting to take you to a party. So while I might have been a little lax talking about Wild Fragile Vines on social media, there was never going to be any chance I wouldn't blog about it here.

See, this story gets to me. Hard. I jumped at the opportunity to join this pax because I loved the theme, but when I started writing, I knew from the beginning I wanted it to be an epistolary story. For those who might not recognize that term, epistolary fiction has traditionally been done in the form of letters. As technology has evolved, it's expanded to include any time of communications--e-mails and texts, for instance. You often find documents or news clippings or diary entries as part of the form, too. I've always loved epistolary fiction. There's an intimacy that gets provoked at the thought you're reading something meant to be private, and that's highly addictive.

The second time around theme seemed perfect for me to write what I'd been craving. In Wild Fragile Vines, Tim's story comes out in the form of the letters and nostalgia he held onto over the past eighteen years from Devin, his boss's son. All that time ago, Devin announced he had feelings for Tim, but Tim was uncomfortable with the fact that he was 31 and Devin was 20. Devin left Napa behind so he wouldn't have to face the object of his affection on a daily basis, but the two remained in contact, no matter where Devin went.

This is their story. The tendrils of their communications stretch across the country, reaching for the sun whenever they could, trying to find roots. It's a relationship forged through friendship and time, making it strong enough to weather the second time these two men met up again. 

I hope you love it. I do. 

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Wild Fragile Vines 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!

The Replacement by Christiane France

A Hennessey Falls Story

This new series revolves around a group of eating and drinking establishments, and I’m hoping to do a book for each one. The Replacement is the first and the main character is Noah Davidson, the owner of the Davidson Restaurant Group. The next will feature Terry Miller, a secondary character from The Replacement, in the starring role. 

Blurb:

When Noah loses his life partner to kidney failure, he needs a replacement to help run his restaurant business. After a couple of tryout failures, Noah interviews Gavin Murray. Gavin has everything needed to be the perfect general manager. He has the education, the experience, and the polish and sophistication required in a top executive. The only problem is that Noah finds him sexually attractive in a way that borders on obsession. He wants Gavin but he tells himself that he can’t have him. He’s still mourning Brett and he’s far from ready to move on with his life. If he had any sense he’d turn down Gavin’s application. Instead, he agrees to give Gavin a three-month trial period by convincing himself Gavin is his only option and business comes first.

Excerpt:

I checked my watch. Ten minutes past three and I’d started to sweat. Another ten minutes went by, and then another ten.

At one minute past three-thirty Gavin came through the front door of Jenny’s, looking a tad flustered and with his shirt half out of his pants. “Sorry, Noah. I got held up in traffic. You ready to roll?”

A traffic jam? Oh, sure that was a great excuse. I wondered what he’d really been doing, then decided I didn’t want to know. If he was expecting me to ask how come he was running around town when he was supposed to be working, then he was in for a big disappointment. I was annoyed for being kept waiting, but I wasn’t about to inquire into anything, especially the reason for his ruffled appearance. It was none of my business. So I simply smiled, pushed back my chair and got to my feet. “Is it that time already?”

“It’s actually later than that. A little after three-thirty to be exact.” The look that accompanied his reply said he knew that I knew what time it was and probably to the fraction of a second.

Cool mysteries and hot romance - http://www.chrisgrover.ca
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The Replacement by Christiane France 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!

Just His by Shawn Lane

This month marks the release of my tenth “His” title, Just His. I never expected when I started the His series to get all the way to J to be honest. And I’m not really sure how much longer I can keep up the alphabet His series. But, anyway, I’ve made it here and Just His follows Dr. Geoffrey Spencer to Big Bear where he meets up with the one that got away, Adrian Michels. 

Readers of the His series first met Geoff in Hopefully His and he continued into Impossibly His. Finally he gets his own story at last. Hope you check out how he reconnects with the love of his life, Adrian, if he can convince Adrian to be Just His, of course. 

I’ll be leaving the His story dormant for a while after this one while working on other stories and other worlds, so enjoy! 

*_*_*

Just His by Shawn Lane 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 - The Second Time Around

Genres: Gay (M/M) Erotic Romance

The titles listed below comprise the The Second Time Around 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. 

Just His by Shawn Lane Extended Amber Kiss (Gay)

The Replacement by Christiane France Extended Amber Kiss (Gay)

Romancing the Nose by A.J. Llewellyn Extended Novella (Gay)

Undeniable by KC Kendricks Extended Amber Kiss (Gay)

Wild Fragile Vines by Vivien Dean Extended Amber Kiss (Gay)

 

In conjunction with our newest release, we will be having a giveaway! Any comment made from today throughout the week (5/10-5/15) will be eligible to win the entire pax collection. A winner will be picked at random on Saturday from all comments received.

Wild Fragile Vines by Vivien Dean

When his boss’s twenty-year-old son announced he wanted to be more than friends, Tim Kammerling told him no. He wasn’t ready to have a relationship with someone more than ten years younger than him.

Devin, however, knew he couldn’t stick around Napa and honor the status quo. Instead, he left town, and he and Tim became long-distance friends.

Now, through the letters he’s kept over the years, clippings he’s collected, and the memories he’ll never shake, Tim stands on the threshold of a new beginning.

Yes, a lot can happen in eighteen years. Letters are sent. Calls get made. And lives are changed...

Genres: Gay/Contemporary/The Arts
Heat Level: 2

Length: Extended Amber Kiss (13k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...The voices drifting from the living room are new. All of them are here by invitation, but his jumpy nerves mean they offer noise, not comfort. It would be different if they were at work. At the Mayer vineyards, people surround him, family, friends, coworkers. Everywhere he turns, someone is there with a smile or a word, unknowing anchors in the life he deliberately set out to create for himself. The first time he’d met Devin, for instance, he’d thought he was simply another pin in the pantheon.

But Devin is the perfect example of chaos theory in motion. If Tim had bothered to believe the stories he’d heard about the younger Mayer son when he was hired, he might have figured that out before it was too late.

Someone knocks at his door, and he shoves the box back into the drawer a fraction too hard. “Who is it?”

“Heidi. The water’s boiling on the stove. You want me to take care of it?”

“Yes, please.”

He remains frozen for several seconds, waiting for another query or commentary about what’s taking so long. Heidi means well—they all mean well—but he’s too on edge to face them yet. He’s not sure what could possibly go wrong, but he feels like a sapling caught in the middle of a wind tunnel. Only the irresponsible would plant something so fragile in the threat of destruction.

Call me irresponsible.

His fingers tighten on the drawer handle. No backing out. He’s already made that promise. He doesn’t have the desire to break it, except in the rare instance like this one where everything he thinks he’s known seems like a distant dream. He’s always been so careful. Meticulous, Mr. Mayer said after his first week of work. Pat had been less flattering when he took over, though it hadn’t been out of malice. Besides, even Tim can’t take a man seriously who uses the word “persnickety” without any sense of irony.

For Devin, he was the embodiment of heart and soul, but when Tim protested both the romantic connotation and the intent behind it, Devin refused to budge.

“You turned this place around.” Tim could still see the way the sunlight had found all the natural tawny highlights in Devin’s dark hair as they stood at the edge of the west field and gazed over the growing vines. “You love watching it all grow, and you’re willing to work crazy-ass hours to make it happen right. People see that. It inspires them to push themselves harder. You’re pumping out what it takes to make the machine work, and you do it out of love. If that’s not a real heart and soul, I don’t know what is.”

He’d dismissed Devin’s words as an artist’s fancy, proof of his musician’s soul, but they hadn’t disappeared as he expected. To this day, they linger. Devin might as well have written them down like his letters. Tim can’t forget any of those, either...

Undeniable by KC Kendricks

With a summer storm threatening to ruin his Friday afternoon, Asa Burton packs his briefcase and bolts for home before the driving gets dangerous. On the interstate, stuck behind an accident, he regrets his decision until he sees Ford Weston standing along the side of the road talking to a police officer.

Ford Weston can’t believe his luck, bad and good. First his car gets clipped on the tail end of an accident, and than none other than Asa Burton pulls over and offers him a ride home. Coming face-to-face with the biggest regret of his life leaves Ford off-balance. He’d screwed up with Asa years ago. It was his fault the relationship ended.

Asa can’t believe he’s found Ford again, so why is he angry with himself? Could it be because Ford walked out on him without a word seventeen years ago and he did nothing to stop him? Asa’s sure of only one thing—Fate just handed him the opportunity to win Ford back—and get some answers.

Genres: Gay/Contemporary
Heat Level: 3

Length: Extended Amber Kiss (15k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...Asa rested his hand on Ford’s knee and felt the man’s heat through his slacks.

“Satisfy my curiosity, Ford. Who’s going to make the first move?”

Asa grinned as Ford put his arm around his shoulders.

“That’s how you moved in on me the first time. I was sitting on the sofa, talking to friends, and you plopped down beside me. Then you put your arm around me and asked me if I wanted to get naked.”

“I was smooth in those days, wasn’t I?”

Asa laughed. “You were one horny bastard and you were on the prowl.”

He sobered as Ford stroked his cheek with trembling fingers, then ran his thumb over his lips.

“Asa, I’d never have jumped you like that if I’d known you were so inexperienced.”

He was surprised to hear the regret in Ford’s voice.

“I was shaking like a leaf in my frat-boy sneakers when I walked out the door with you. You were the answer to my big problem, you know. I was desperate to lose my virginity, but just any guy wouldn’t do. I wanted a real stud for the job.”

“I’m glad you chose me.”

Asa set his beer down. It was the second one today he wasn’t going to finish. He turned and put his arms around Ford’s neck. There was one thing he knew would move them past uncertainty. He pressed his lips to Ford’s.

Ford was still for a moment, then his lips parted. Past and present merged for Asa as the memory of those long ago, shared kisses blended with the feel of Ford’s warm mouth moving under his. Now was all that mattered. His groin tightened as he shifted forward and Ford went down beneath him.

Never breaking the kiss, Asa worked his hands under Ford’s shirt to caress bare skin. His dick swelled full and hard when Ford slipped his hand down the back of his pants to squeeze his ass. Inside him, little muscles twitched with the memory of the first time Ford had fucked him, of the burn as Ford went into him. He’d spun into a white-hot heat he’d never found with anyone else. Asa kissed the throbbing vein in Ford’s neck.

“We have too many clothes on.”

Ford stroked the back of his head. “You cut your gorgeous hair.”

“It was time.” Asa raised up enough to look at him. Ford’s pupils had gone wide and black, and Asa wondered if his eyes looked the same. He ran his fingers through Ford’s dark locks.

“I wanted the senior partners to take me seriously. That wasn’t going to happen looking like a wannabe singer in a boy band.”

“I get it, but it really surprises me you’d cut it. Are you ready to take this to the bedroom?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve changed some, Ford.”

“So have I. Let me up.”

“One more for the road.”

“The bedroom—”

Asa cut Ford off as he kissed him. Ford met him, thrusting his tongue into Asa’s mouth in a mock fucking. In response, Asa flexed his pelvis against Ford’s. He silently damned the layers of fabric between them as the ridge of his erection rode Ford’s equally hard cock. Asa shifted sideways to drop onto his knees and rock back on his heels.

“Which way?”

“Upstairs...”

Romancing the Nose by A.J. Llewellyn

College dropout Kells Beckwith is uncertain about his future. His mother intervenes, giving him an unusual job prospect. Her friend, designer Wendy Hart, has launched her first fragrance. Unfortunately, the “nose”—the man who created her signature perfume—has died. None of the “noses” Wendy hires to duplicate the haunting perfume can crack it. Kells, however, has an uncanny sense of smell that plunges him nose-first into the cutthroat world of high fashion. There, he meets Christophe Morisset, a legendary “nose” and a very sexy man, who can’t—or won’t—reproduce the fragrance called “White Matinee.”

Despite initial friction, the men have a hot fling, but Kells soon learns it isn’t easy romancing the “nose.” Nevertheless, Kells can’t get over the mercurial, sexy Frenchman who teaches him that the sense of smell doesn’t come from the nose but from the brain.

Can Kells ever persuade Christophe to give him a chance, to think with his heart and not his brain? A future with Christophe may be impossible. Though the man never leaves Kells’ mind, he’s always just out of reach until they eventually meet again. Can Kells finally win the love he so desperately wants the second time around?

Genres: Gay/Contemporary/Menage (M/M/M)/Group Sex/Voyeurism
Heat Level: 3

Length: Extended Novella (35k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...“What is the first memory of scent you have from childhood?”

That threw me. Nobody had ever asked me that before. I thought a moment, but nothing came clearly to me.

“Close your eyes,” he suggested.

I closed them and bam! There it was, breakfast with my grandpa the year before he died. We’d made bananas on toast together. Well, he’d made them and I sat in my high chair watching him. It was my first finger food. I pictured him piling the bananas onto hot buttered toast and cutting the slice into quarters for me. I became emotional remembering him. I was about two at the time, but the memory was so clear. Grandpa laughed as I enjoyed the treat he prepared for me.

“Tasty, huh?” he asked, gazing at me with eyes full of love.

“What do you remember?” Christophe’s voice was low and deep. When I told him, he said, “Keep your eyes closed.” He rattled bottles and unscrewed lids. He sniffed and muttered and moved things around. A few seconds later, he held something under my nose. I breathed in and my heart tore into a million pieces. I’d never had bananas on toast after grandpa died, but it had been one of my favorite smells. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“That’s it,” I said. I opened my eyes. “How did you do it?”

He laughed. “I’m not saying.” He looked at me. “You miss him, huh?”

I turned to look out of his window at the beach, but had forgotten that he’d shuttered it. I wanted to run and hide from his intense scrutiny, almost as much as I wanted him to fuck me.

“Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “What is your earliest memory of scent?”

He grinned, looking genuinely delighted at the question. “Walking along the Maures cliff road in the Tanneron Mountains with my parents and smelling the wonderful scent of mimosa trees in full bloom.” He looked at me. “Would you like to smell them?”

“Absolutely.”

He fiddled with bottles and I watched how he mixed and dabbed, swirled, and smelled, then turned to me. “Here you are, lovely Kills. I want you to imagine you are in the South of France on the edge of winter.” Christophe held a bottle under my nose and I inhaled. The scent was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and experienced an explosion of color. Yellow. Bright yellow.

“Are mimosas yellow?” I asked. The only mimosas I knew were champagne cocktails.

“Oh, yes. I am so glad you see the color.”

I realized now that he’d infused the scent into his version of White Matinee. I kept my eyes closed as he took the bottle away from my nose and capped it. He closed the case and began moving about the room. I was too afraid of opening them and seeing him walk out, keys in hand saying something like, “Have a nice life!”

Instead, a few seconds later he was back on the bed. I opened my eyes and he was naked and gorgeous. I was hungrier for him than I could even imagine I’d be. He leaned in and kissed me. I put my arms around his neck, surprised at how muscular he was. I’d been with two men sexually. The first one, Howard, was a hippie in San Francisco, and a huge mistake. The second guy had been an even bigger lapse in judgment.

Christophe pushed me to the bed, his lips roaming my face and neck. He paused to pay some extra attention to my throat, then picked up a bottle and dropped a tiny pinpoint of oil on my top lip.

“What is it?” I asked.

“My special blend. It conjures up the fragrances you love most.”

I inhaled as the oil began to warm against my skin. It was there again. The chocolate. And the pineapple, and the deliciousness of pecans. “Oh, my God, I smell bananas and mimosas!”

He chuckled. “I’m going to spoil you for any man you ever meet...”