Balladeer (The Eternal Dungeon)

"Yeslin stood irresolute. Tangling with torturers seemed the ultimate in danger."

Sometimes it takes an outsider to point out the obvious.

Once an abandoned street-lad, Yeslin Bainbridge has become a young man with a mission: to lead the commoner laborers in a fight against the elite men who exploit them. He knows exactly where to start his mission.

The Eternal Dungeon. Here elite torturers and guards force commoners to offer confessions to crimes they may or may not have committed. Here laborers aid the torturers and guards, unaware that they are being manipulated. Here, if anywhere, Yeslin can make his initial mark on the queendom.

But he faces many challenges: Officials who seek to hide the dungeon's secrets from outsiders. Dungeon traditions that foil efforts by outsiders to learn the truth. Most of all, Yeslin faces his own conscience, for he knows that, if he is to fulfill his mission, he must lie to the person he loves most.

This novelette can be read on its own or as the fifth and final story in the "Balance" volume of The Eternal Dungeon, an award-winning historical fantasy series set in a land where the psychologists wield whips.

Excerpt

He said quickly, "I'm no gossip." No gossip indeed. He was something more important than that, but it would take time to explain himself to the stokers.

"Aye?" Wade's eyes were narrowed. "Who are you, then? You ask a lot of questions. You don't answer none."

So he told them. No names, but he told them about his family, and about his new family after that, and how all that had ended. By the time he was through, the men were all relaxed again.

"Aye, well." Leo scratched his head. Being an indoor worker, he was capless, wearing the rough denim uniform issued to all the dungeon's stokers. From what little Yeslin had seen, the dungeon's elite didn't dress much better. "The fates will do that to a man: take him up to the heights, then drop him again. 'Least you're not all sour about it."

"Nay," Yeslin replied, scooping up more coal with his shovel. "These things happen. 'Tis probably for the best. I wouldn't want to be one of them."

He expected emphatic nods, even if some of those nods came from hypocrites who would gladly have embraced the wealth of the world if chance wandered their way. What he received instead was indifferent shrugs.

This was going to be more difficult than he'd anticipated.

He tried again. "So the torturers— The Seekers. They treat us well?"

There were uneasy looks then, among the stokers. Leo said quickly, "Well enough."

"Oh, come now, Leo," said Jerry, a married man who was inclined to talk at length about his six young ones. "Be honest. You're as worried as the rest of us."

"Worried?" Yeslin raised his eyebrows.

"'Bout our jobs," said Curt. "There's talk of 'lectrifying the whole dungeon – of doing away with the coal furnaces. Doing away with our jobs."

"It's all rumor," said Leo with a growl.

"What are you going to do if it's true?" asked Yeslin.

Wade shrugged. "Look for other stoking jobs, in the lighted world. What else can we do?"

"Well . . ." said Yeslin slowly.

But Leo cut him off. "Listen!"

Everyone stood still. Away down toward the end of the corridor came a sound, indefinable at first, then growing louder, like the rustling of a thousand pieces of paper in a clerk's office.

"Work's done for the night." Leo tossed his shovel aside. "The day shift will be coming 'long in an hour or two. Let's go eat."

He had not learned what he needed to know. To steal time, he pretended that his boot had come untied. Kneeling down, he said, "Boss Man gives decent hours. Only eight hours of work."

Wade snorted. "In the summer. Come winter, it's fourteen hours."

"We follow the sun," Curt explained, bringing out a face-cloth from his trousers pocket to wipe the coal dust from his face. "Those were bats you heard, returning at dawn to the cave this dungeon lies in. In the summer, they come home soon. In the winter, they seem to stay forever in the lighted world."

"Seekers and guards, they follow the same hours." Leo frowned down at Yeslin, who was continuing to fiddle with his bootstring.

"Aye?" said Yeslin, taking care not to raise his eyes. "Well, that sort of schedule must be easier for the young Seekers than the old Seekers. Or do they have young Seekers?"

"Oh, aye," said Curt, walking blithely into the lure. "Youngest one is twenty-three. That's Mr. Taylor."

His fingers tightened on the bootstring, to the point where he almost cut himself. "Aye? Don't think I've seen him. Does he live in the dungeon?"

That prompted more laughter from the stokers. "All the Seekers live in the dungeon," said Jerry, his voice kindly. "None of them leave here. Least of all Mr. Taylor. He's the High Seeker's love-mate—"

"That's enough!" Leo's voice turned sharp. "The High Seeker, he won't stand for gossip, and neither do we. That's our pride, or have all you forgotten that?"

There was a murmur of acknowledgment from the other stokers. They looked shame-faced now, especially Jerry. Leo turned his attention back to Yeslin. "You're the worst man at boot-tying that I've ever seen in my life. You need a hand there?"

"I've broken the string." This was true enough; Jerry's remark had caused Yeslin to suddenly jerk his hand. "No worries; I got an extra string in my pocket. You go ahead. I'll catch up."

"Don't linger," Leo warned. "Boss Man don't like us staying in the inner dungeon after our work is through. Okay, lads—" He slammed closed the door to Yeslin's furnace and turned to the others. "Let's get our meal pails open, and see what we've got, and then steal from Jerry's pail."

Jerry yelped. Laughing, Ward said, "Well, if you will marry the best cook in the Alleyway district . . ."

They all closed their furnace doors and retreated toward the north end of the corridor, disappearing from view as they turned the corner. Yeslin waited until they were all gone before replacing the string, as swiftly as he could. Then he stood up. His heart was still beating hard.
 

¶ Available as an e-book (HTML, PDF, Kindle, ePub): Balladeer.

RIDING SHOTGUN by Claudia Dante

Sonny Goss has everything going for him. He's still not 22 years old, and already he's a rising star in red-hot niche movies, and working for an ambitious director-producer. Paul Jordan's films are still in the zone of soft-core, but Paul has big plans to evolve into 'erotic fantasy' catering to the gay DVD market. His company -- Take A Chance Pictures -- is expanding fast, and his current project, Howl of the Black Wolf, is the biggest, most expensive movie yet to issue on his label. Sonny Goss has the starring role of saddletramp and gunfighter, Matt Ridley, who's in love with a shapeshifting young shaman, John Black Wolf.

Sonny's starting to get noticed, and the future looks bright ... save for one thing. He's alone, and he wants so much more than one night stands with beautiful guys he meets 'playing cowboy' in a notorious LA club know as The Corral. It can be a dangerous place to play, but Sonny turns on to the 'midnight cowboy' fantasy, even while he envies his friend, gorgeous First Nations actor Jeff Lucas, who's costarring with him in the gay Western that's tipped to kickstart a whole new genre.

The incredible fantasy of John Black Wolf haunts Sonny -- as does Jeff. But Jeff is secure in a happy, settled relationship, leaving Sonny stranded and falling back on The Corral, where he goes just to watch, to let off steam. The fantasy is piquant, powerful.

Meanwhile, there's a very real half-wolf called Jason ... a soundstage at Universal where the Western action is rather more intimate than the usual spurs'n'saddles ... and there's a stalker menacing Sonny. Crazed fan, or vigilante on a personal quest against out gay actors working in fringe movies...? Sonny's starting to run scared, and calls his producer. Paul Jordan has the reputation of a 'fixer,' and he knows everybody in the gay side of the industry...

Enter Jim Colby -- ex-cop turned Hollywood P.I., who walks into Sonny's life as a hired gun, a bodyguard, and turns his world upside down, inside out. Jim is Sonny's dream, walking on two legs ... but Jim is hiding a secret of his own, and it won't take Sonny long to find out about it. It's fireworks between them from the first moment: the cowboy fantasy is about to become a sizzling, delicious reality, and for Sonny, nothing will ever be the same. Jim Colby is about to take him places he only daydreamed about.

He's about to get what he's wished for ... with interest!

ISBN: 978-0-9872328-2-3
Publisher: DreamCraft
Length: 42,000 words
Format: PDF, Epub, Kindle
Heat rating: 4
Price: $3.99
Buy now

Read an excerpt

Chapter One

Hot water felt so good after a day in the dust and heat. Sonny Goss turned, let it pour over his back and ass while he listened for the phone. He spread his legs, leaned his palms on the shower glass, let the water do wonderful things to every nerve ending in the center of him. The flood of sensation made him think of the night ahead. From the shower, he could see the foot of his bed, and the clothes laid out there.

Crisp black denim waited for him, and hand-tooled Lucchese boots, a black linen shirt, bone-bead belt and Diamond Jim Stetson -- all genuine, no cheap knockoffs. The ensemble had set him back a cool grand, with the diamond studs in his lobes and the Ambre Topkapi that would be shimmering on his skin -- hot, sweat-slick and lustrous with pheromones by midnight.

The best thing about being Sonny Goss was, he could afford it all -- and the cherry red '71 Mustang Mach 1 in the garage under the apartment building. Often, he had to pinch himself, make sure he was still awake, not dreaming while he killed time, crashed on a friend's couch, where he had been just twenty months ago.

A chance audition changed everything. The part had looked bad, but he was desperate enough after six months on Nick's couch, eating noodles three times a day, to go read for anything. He was the thirteenth guy in line, and there were twelve chairs.

He sat on the floor, read an old car magazine, and by the time he made it into the hot, dark little cubbyhole they were using for an audition studio, he could not have cared less about actually getting the part.

Maybe that was what Paul Jordan was looking for -- he saw the character of Tommy Hathaway, in Dirtwater Duke, as a badass with attitude to match. A twenty-year-old drifter with a smart mouth, a fast gun, and a taste for ripe young cowboys who very soon learned what the words 'hard ridden' really meant.

The movie was crap, but as Paul predicted, it made money. Sonny liked to think he owned an 'ear' for dialog, and Paul Jordan might have been a good director with a talent for raising movie bucks from starry-eyed wannabe investors in California's gay community, but he was a lousy writer. So Sonny adlibbed most of the words coming out of Tommy Hathaway's mouth, and after that, let his body do the talking for him.

Twenty months later, he had eight movies to his credit -- two had been screened on Starz, one was top-selling on the gay DVD list, and Sonny Goss's face was looking out of posters and video trailers on forty websites. He had been featured in The Advocate, and here! was getting interested.

He looked up into the mirror opposite the shower and gave himself a grin. Even to his own eyes, it looked like a damned smug grin. Then again, he had a reason to be smug. He had done it. He had gone from being the gay kid kicked out by his father for bringing home a boyfriend and daring to fuck in the sanctuary of his own room, to being the poster boy for Take a Chance, Paul Jordan's company.

They were filming on a stage at Universal this week, headed out on location in another four days. Sonny could not wait to get out of the soundstage, back into the open air. One corner of the vast area was currently set up as the barn, for the night scene where one of the movie's eight sex scenes was being filmed.

The set was closed, and guarded to keep out visitors. Yesterday, the same space had been set up as the interior of the cabin belonging to John Black Wolf, with the big brass bed and the quilt made of patches of every color of rabbit skin. Wrestling there with Jeff Lucas, who was playing John, was fun. Understatement, Sonny thought as he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

He grabbed for a towel, flicked off the bathroom lights and headed into the bedroom, where the lamps were on, illuminating the room in a dull gold. Jeff was Canadian, half Native, from someplace in upstate Ontario. He was 22, a year older than Sonny, with long limbs and dark eyes, and hair so long, he could almost sit on it. He was perfect for the part of John Black Wolf, and Paul Jordan was gambling on the chemistry between him and Sonny.

Howl of the Black Wolf was the most expensive movie Take a Chance had ever produced. This one had horses; it had location filming, and two actual stunts -- as distinct from the sex scenes, Sonny thought with a chuckle while he toweled down -- as well as fourteen digital special effects shots, which were being done by a studio in Malaysia.



That handful of shots was costing more than the rest of the movie combined, and Paul was shitting bricks over them. He knew they, plus the stunts and location work, would make the difference between Howl being just another glossy gay soft-core flick, and a real movie with a fantasy twist.

Sonny had fallen in love with the project as soon as he read the script, even though Paul's dialog was as crappy as usual, and would have to be rewritten on the set, probably with three minutes left before shooting started. The dialog in Paul Jordan's movies was the least important element. The sex was usually the first thing anyone looked at -- 'tastefully explicit gay love scenes,' as Paul called them.

But Howl was more than soft-core. John Black Wolf was a skinwalker. He shifted shape between human hunk -- a six foot two, broad-shouldered young stallion who had had Sonny drooling since day one -- to a big black wolf with blue eyes and fangs the size of steak knives. The digital effects shots were essential -- these days, nobody would buy simple cross-fades or stop-motion animation. Jeff Lucas had to really turn into the wolf right before the eyes, and take the audience's breath away.

Actually, Jeff was changing into a wolf-cross called Jason. The animal trainer was another Canadian, Cooper Barlowe from Vancouver. He had actually bred Jason, who was half timber wolf, half Belgian Shepherd, black as midnight, with the bluest eyes Sonny had ever seen.

Jeff had already filmed one half of the scene, three days before. He stood under blue lights, made to simulate moonlight, and tore off his clothes. Naked, glorious, from the great slabs of his pecs to the cock and balls that hung like rich fruit between the big, football player thighs -- he spread his arms and legs and arched his back -- and froze right there. A Malaysian studio called Hydraulic Frog (where the hell did they get these names, Sonny wondered) was doing the 'bridge' between the human end of the shot and the other, wolven, end.

Cooper had brought in Jason, and the wolf was perfectly behaved. He stood on his mark while the lights were reset, then looked right at his handler and, on cue, like a proper actor, bared his huge fangs, threw back his head and howled.

The sound made Sonny's hair stand on end. Like Paul, he was dying to see the finished scene, where Jeff ripped off his clothes (the rushes of that part of the scene gave Sonny a huge boner, so it was a safe bet, this part of Howl was going to become an Internet legend) and morphed into Jason, howling at the moon, before he loped up to the camera and away out of frame.

It was the first time Sonny had ever been enthusiastic about a project he was filming. The others were all 'work.' Each low budget job was shot in a week or two, usually using a warehouse in Anaheim as a 'stage,' and they were mostly about a group of great looking young guys having a lot of sex. Paul wrote them, as well as producing and directing -- and what sent the Take a Chance movies apart from the bulk of soft-core was that Paul could usually find a really good excuse for the sex scenes.

Sometimes there was a thread of unrequited love, or it might be a forfeit for unpayable gambling debts, or a joke being played on a straight dude who rapidly discovered that he was nowhere near as straight as he had thought he was. And when the guys got down to business, it was always shot with taste and style. That was Paul Jordan's magic.

Howl of the Black Wolf had just as much sex, but a whole lot more story, and Sonny was excited to be heading out on location Tuesday morning. The company would be in a flyspeck town in northern California called Weott, on the Redwood Highway east of Avenue of the Giants.

The scenery was guaranteed to be superb. Four trained horses were coming down by truck from Oregon. Jason would be filmed loping through the redwoods in shots processed later to look like moonlight. And Jeff and Sonny would get naked and make out in places that would render the video sex shiveringly exotic.

Mostly dry now, he threw the towel back in the general direction of the bathroom. He was still waiting for the phone -- it was on the chest by the bed, mocking him with silence. Not even a text. Sonny gave it a glare, but he was not surprised. He had left voicemail for Jeff an hour before, when he got home.

'Hey, man, you want to get out tonight? Thank God it's Friday, or whatever? I'm going to The Corral, if you're interested. Call me, okay?"

Three or four times a month, Fridays or Saturdays, Sonny went to The Corral. The nights all started like this, with the daylight faded to colors of twilight and the sounds of evening traffic coming in through the open windows with the view of rooftops and dusty palm trees. LA smog would be hanging over the horizon like a brown pall in the sunset. He would shave, shower, grab a snack, change into the kind of threads that would get him through the door at The Corral --

Get him into the basement, where it all happened, much later, when the dancers were drifting on out in couples and trios and quads. The bouncers would be on duty at the side door in the muck and dark of the alley, and the real action would be starting. The Corral was aptly named, and just thinking about it gave Sonny an icy-hot thrill, a shiver down his spine.

He was a mere spectator, but part of the thrill was knowing, he could be in it. He could be a player, in there with the rest of them. One day; one night. Not today, but one day.

Maybe Jeff knew about The Corral -- it was no secret -- and maybe it was not his scene. Sonny might have been disappointed, but he was not surprised. Jeff had a lover stashed someplace in Toronto, a real estate broker who was always texting, calling, emailing, as if he did not trust Jeff not to sleep around while he was out here. Sonny had never even heard the guy's name, but the guy need not have worried. Jeff Lucas got a lot of offers, but he never accepted them. Not yet, anyway. He was as faithful as John Black Wolf was to his on-screen lover, Matt Rigley.

Sonny played Matt Ridley with a drawl, skin-tight blue denims, a Winchester over one shoulder, and a mouth always hungry to go down on John ... and he envied Matt, who was a fictional character right out of the head of Paul Jordan. Matt had the one thing Sonny had never had.

The worst thing about being Sonny Goss? Not being able to connect. There was always plenty of sex -- never any shortage of offers and, unlike Jeff, he never hesitated to take them. But the next morning was all about Pop-Tarts and coffee like black paint, and a door closing behind a guy who never looked as good in the morning light as he had at midnight or two in the AM ... and who always walked away.

He sighed, and gave himself another look in the mirror. A hard look. Naked. He looked good, and he knew he did, with long legs, hard-worked muscles, dark brown hair and eyes, from his Italian grandmother, smooth chest that barely even needed to be shaved, and a cock that was thick and golden when it was resting, and stood s good eight inches when it was interested. His skin was tanned evenly, with just the pale strip around his hips of the Speedos line. His hair was thick and long -- Paul liked it that way; he knew what suited Sonny, and the character of Matt Ridley.

The reviewers on Dirtwater Duke had called him 'surreal as an evil angel, with innocent eyes and wicked mouth.' Sonny pouted at himself, examined his shave and shook out the still-wet hair. It was rapidly drying in the warm evening air. The breeze was still almost hot, and getting heavy with car fumes. He ought to close the window.

He ought to be going through the pages for tomorrow's shooting, as well, but the dialog was hardly essential to the plot. If Paul was on schedule, he would be humping Jeff on a hay bale in the barn set, before the stagehands took it all to pieces and rearranged it as the cave interior, with a bunch of Styrofoam slabs that looked convincingly like rock. Some of them were so old, Charlton Heston was probably acting in front of them, in the original Planet of the Apes.

He had eight lines of dialog tomorrow, and they were bad. Paul was not getting any better at putting words into actors' mouths. If he was as good at putting words there as he was at putting his dick here, he would have been brilliant. The script was lying on the chair, on the other side of the bed. Sonny picked it up on his way to the window.

INT. NIGHT -- The Barn. Matt and John meet for the first time in a week. John wants to tell Matt about the roughnecks who suspect him of being a shifter, and are in the woods, laying traps for the wolf. But Matt is too hungry for John's body to listen.

"Save it -- tell me later," Sonny said in Matt's drawl. "You know what I want. I didn't come here to talk."

And Jeff would say, in that deep voice with the rich accent hinting of other cultures, other worlds, But this is important, Matt. You have to listen to what I'm saying to you.

"So I guess I'll listen real good when you can tell me the whole story ... but later, much later, after I've had what I came for," Sonny/Matt would drawl as he opened the buckskin shirt wide, shoved it back over John's shoulders, trapping his arms in it to hold him.

Camera closes in tight on his face as he stoops to John's chest, takes his nipple between his teeth and bites down. John gives a cry of pain and then a groan of pleasure, he tosses his head, and we hear the wolf howl in his voice. His fingers clench into Matt's arms and they wrestle down on a bale of hay ...

"Jesus, Paul, that's shitty dialog, man," Sonny groaned, "you're getting worse."

More likely, Paul was getting just plain lazy, because he knew Sonny and other bright, smart young actors like Jeff Lucas could adlib when they hit their marks; and in any case, the jeans were off in the next half minute, and all the talking was done with hands, lips, cocks.

It was like that at The Corral, in the hours after the front doors closed and the bouncers took station at the side door. The unsuspecting public was never likely to wander in. Every guy in the basement knew the score and was there for the thrill of it. Actions spoke louder than words.

Nobody cared where a guy was from, where he went to school, what he drove, what he did for a job. It was all about the broncs in the corral, and the cowboys outside of it ... who was going to get roped and ridden, and by whom, and how.

The old familiar thrill raced up Sonny's spine again and he dropped the script. The beer he had left on the table by the door, with his wallet and keys, on his way to the bathroom, was still cool enough to wet his throat. He took it to the window, intending to let the hot night air finish drying his hair before he slid into the black jeans, put his feet into the tooled Lucchese leather.

He was reaching for the window, ready to pull it across, shut out the car fumes, lock up for the night, when he looked down into the street. The streetlights were on. The sky was orange, reflecting the city lights. No stars -- not in LA, not inside of Sonny's lifespan. And down below, on the sidewalk right opposite, standing just outside the pool of blue brightness cast by one of the big streetlights, was that face.

That man. Again.

Always the same man, the same face, looking at him with the wide eyes, not even blinking, just staring, as if he could shoot lasers into the middle of Sonny, cut out his guts, or perhaps his soul.

The beer was forgotten and warm on Sonny's tongue. He swallowed with an effort as he saw the face, locked eyes with the man. This made forty times he had seen that face, in two weeks. At first he had assumed the guy was paparazzi, but he never seemed to carry any visible camera. He did not even have a phone that would take the kind of crappy shots few magazines would buy -- these days, digital was all about high quality.

It was an older dude -- he had to be at least fifty, Sonny thought, dressed in jeans and teeshirt and windbreaker, even though it was hot tonight. He just stood there with his hands in the pockets of the jacket, like --

Suddenly Sonny's blood turned cold and he stepped back from the window. Maybe he had seen too many movies, but the way the guy had his hands in the pockets of a jacket, on a night light this --? Gun in the pocket?

His heart thumped as he sidled around, grabbed the cord and yanked it hard to close the drapes over, and then continued on, back to the chest by the bed, and picked up his phone.

Still no text from Jeff, and no missed calls. This time, Sonny hardly bothered to notice. His fingers went through the ritual by themselves. Paul was top of his contacts list, and in seconds the phone was calling. Who else did you call, when you were scared shitless, and right in the middle of a major production -- or the most major production Take a Chance had ever undertaken? You called your producer.

Calling, and getting an answer, were not the same thing. "You have reached Paul Jordan," Paul's nasal voice said in his best level, casual but 'don't mess with me' manner. "I'm busy right now, but leave a message and I'll get right back to you."

"Hey, Paulie, man, call me. Soon." Sonny swallowed hard. He knew he sounded weird. "I think I'm ... I might have a problem," he said, hating voicemail. "Make it fast, all right? Thanks, man."

He hung up but kept the phone in his hand as he returned to the window. He slid along and looked through the crack between the drapes and the window frame ... and swore. The guy was gone. Or had he stepped back away from the light? Was he standing in the deep shadows at the side of the apartment building across the way? "Fuck," Sonny whispered. "Come on, Paulie, call, goddamn it!"

An Angel For Christmas by Lily Grace

Purchase from Torquere Press

By: Lily Grace

Publisher: Torquere Press

Genre: m/m, Contemporary Paranormal

Length: Novella (24,400 words)

ISBN: 978-1-61040-120-3

Blurb

Sebastian has done the one thing a guardian angel is never supposed to do. He’s fallen in love with a mortal. When his human falls into serious jeopardy, Sebastian descends to Earth without permission.

Kevin’s bartending job just doesn’t pay enough, his mother's hospital bills keep piling up, and now he’s borrowed money from the wrong person. He needs a miracle this Christmas season. Kevin just didn’t expect it to come in the form of an actual angel.

Not caring that he's breaking all the rules that govern guardian angels, Sebastian helps Kevin all he can. But the consequences of Sebastian's actions could be dire for the angel, unless Kevin can perform a miracle of his own.

Excerpt

Sebastian's eyes widened. He wasn't sure who was more shocked, he or Kevin. He hadn't meant to lower his guise of invisibility, but now it had happened twice in one night. Kevin distracted him. Sebastian had never been able to be this close to Kevin before. He had always had to look from so far away. The proximity overwhelmed him. He knew he had crossed too many lines to count back in the alley, but his punishment would be worth it. Watching Kevin sleep, being so close, knowing his mortal charge was safe... it was worth everything.

"Please, do not be frightened!" He held up his hands, voluminous sleeves falling down his arms to his elbows. "I mean you no harm." There was no going back now. No point in disappearing. The damage had been done.

Waves of terror and confusion washed over Kevin's face. His eyes were wide and blinking rapidly. Sebastian understood this would be difficult for him to understand. He waited patiently, giving Kevin a few moments to collect himself.

Kevin's hands came up to his face and rubbed furiously at his eyes. Sebastian smiled when Kevin looked surprised that he was still there. Kevin had beautiful eyes. They were so unusual. Blue-gray, like Cape Cod after a storm.

"Y...you're not real. I'm still dreaming." It came out as a statement.

"I promise you are awake." Sebastian tried to make his voice as gentle as possible.

"Who are you?" Kevin's voice was edged with astonishment and a small amount of fear. He pushed his back flush against the headboard and gripped handfuls of bedding tightly.

Sebastian took a chance and moved slightly closer, trying to offer reassurance with his smile. This was where Kevin would need to suspend disbelief and have a little faith.

"My name is Sebastian. I am your guardian angel."

"Right. I'm definitely still dreaming."

Kevin's hands once again went to his face, and he sighed deeply. At least he didn't look frightened anymore.

"This is a dream. I'm not crazy, and there are no such things as angels." He spoke more to himself than to Sebastian. "I'm going back to sleep. When I wake up, you won't be here."

Kevin reached for the bedside lamp, and once again the room was bathed in darkness. Burrowing under the covers, Kevin pulled the quilt up over his head as if that would make everything go away. Sebastian didn't blame him. Not really. Everything Kevin had been taught had told him that Sebastian couldn't be real. Sebastian still found that it hurt, though. He wanted Kevin to believe... needed him to. Hopefully things would be better in the morning. Sebastian wasn't going anywhere.

Sebastian moved to a sitting position near the end of the bed, keeping vigil over his charge until morning.

http://bookworld.editme.com/AnAngelForChristmas

http://www.lilygracetales.blogspot.com/

From Trey #3 by Bryl R. Tyne

Excerpted from Trey #3 by Bryl R. Tyne


M/M/M Contemporary Action/Thriller

Trey wants his job.

Drew wants Trey.

Travon wants them both, but must avoid the law.

When boyfriend Drew and twice a month fuck buddy Travon decide to go in together on a local Las Cruces pawnshop heist, neither expects to find Trey working behind the counter. Funny, both Drew and Travon figured the accountant-degree-holding Trey to be a safe bet. Both are fiercely protective. None expected to meet.

With the loot bagged, the ironic love triangle exposed, and the cops on the way, what's there to do but drag Trey along for the ride?

Trey discovers sometimes choosing between the lesser of two evils is all but impossible.

Excerpt: 

It seemed no matter how diligently I performed my duties, how loyal or dependable I proved myself to be, I had no control over who my last three bosses hired or fired. Though I had a degree in accounting, when I landed this minimum-wage customer assistant's job, I took it because I needed work, needed to keep my mind busy, active. Besides, they paid shift differential—a whole fifteen cents. Even if this shop was on the lower eastside of town, I didn't mind my job. At least I had one—again.

Could've been worse, Drew reminded me, on the afternoons I slogged out his front door, dragging my dark cloud with me. I shook my head as I crouched to lockup the remaining Rolex cases. At least I had Drew . . . and yeah, I had the man right where I wanted him almost every day for the past six months, to be exact.

Bells jangled, announcing someone's entrance. I let my ring of keys snap back to my belt. Broom in hand, I met the late customer at the jewelry counter. "We're getting ready to—" Before me, on the other side of the counter, stood the one person I never expected to see on this side of town. "Drew?"

Why he wore sunglasses in the dead of night, I'd never understood, but he did it often. He lifted them off his nose and pushed them to his head as he stared. His mouth opening and closing like a starving goldfish, he tried to ask the one question I never wanted to hear—especially, not here, inside Jackie's Rings and Things. "What are you doing—?"

"I work here." Duh. I shook my head, not caring if I sounded like a PMSing bitch. "Don't rub it in, either."

I leaned the broom against the counter and strode to the end. Lifting the hinged door, I stepped under it and let it slam behind me. Well, I'd had Drew . . . as in, "It's been swell," and, "See ya later." Exactly the reason I'd avoided telling him about my new job. A man like Drew would never understand.

He wasn't one of those rich boys born with a silver spoon in his mouth. No. From what I knew of his lifestyle—his condo, his 2010 Dodge Charger, his ever-present bankroll—I was certain his mother had birthed him inside a bank vault. As soon as the—my boyfriend works in a pawnshop—sunk in, I'd be out of his life. There was no doubt in my mind.

Instead of the argument I'd expected though, Drew smiled—a half-hearted, odd kind of twist to his lips. He glanced behind him at the door, wiped the sweat from his forehead as he met my gaze again.

"Just say it," I said, a little creeped out by his unpredictable reaction.

He wrung his hands together, once again eyeing the exit over his shoulder. "I-I'm looking for a ring."

A ring? At eleven o'clock at night. "Okay. Just let me lockup first."

"No! I'll miss my ride . . . I know what I want." Drew stepped to the display case of sterling rings and pointed. "Right here, in tray number three."

Something told me I was a fool for getting my hopes up, but still, I complied, ever hopeful Drew had finally decided to commit. I returned behind the counter, unlocked the sliders, and pulled out the third tray of silver rings. "Which one did you have in mind?"

My daydream lasted all of two seconds, for as soon as I set tray number three atop the glass case, the door burst open.

Tall, dark, and ski-masked kicked it shut after he entered, and, aiming his pistol at me, shouted, "Hands in the air!"

I complied immediately, not a heroic bone in my body. He could have the entire fucking store for all I cared.

"Don't move," Drew whispered.

I glanced to Drew, who had yet to heed the asshole's order, then looked back to the rapidly advancing armed robber. Put your hands up. I mouthed the words, hoping Drew would see me.

Much to my surprise, he stepped between the robber and me, whipped around, reached over the display case, and caught me around the middle. In a flash, he dragged me across the counter and onto the floor, shocking me further by manhandling me onto my stomach and binding my wrists behind my back with what felt like strips of plastic. "What the fuck are you—?"

"Just keep quiet," he said, "and you won't get hurt."

Holy Christ. One side of my face pressed to the floor, I closed my eyes and started to pray. Who in the hell had I been fucking these past six months—been considering moving in with? This sure as fuck wasn't the man I knew . . . thought I knew. My heart pounded in my ears. Hard-soled shoes came to a stop beside me, and I clenched my eyes tighter.

"Shut him up or I'll—oh, shit."

Oh shit, was right. I recognized that voice. Jackie's Rings and Things would-be bandit was none other than Travon Sanders, my mother's twenty-nine-year-old neighbor—my friend and twice-a-month fuck buddy. Well, soon to be ex-friend, along with Drew. I'd made up my mind, with a knee between my shoulders.

"You know him?" Drew asked tall, dark, and dangerous.

I could feel Travon's stare burn into my upturned cheek. "No, man—You?" He backed away, not waiting for Drew to answer. "Just looks like a guy I used to know."

That's right, motherfucker . . . used to know, you sonofabitch.

Drew released the pressure on my back and then stood, yanking me to my knees. "Get up." He pulled me to my feet as Travon helped himself to my keys and the store's valuables.

"Prick."

Drew backhanded me across the face; a second later, he winked. "I said, keep your mouth shut."

Fuck you. I spat at his face, missing by a long shot. He stared at me as if I'd lost my fucking mind.

At that point, I'd already decided I had indeed lost it. Who in his right mind would attempt to build a life with a career criminal while fucking an armed robber on the side? The only one I knew crazy enough to do either stared back at me from the glass of the gun display case as Drew shuffled me behind the counter and shoved me into the first open office.

"Stay here 'til I figure out what to do with you." He shut the door behind him.

"Bastards." Before I stuck my dick in anyone ever again, I was hiring a P.I. to run a full background check. This was ridiculous. What were the fucking odds?

Bryl R. Tyne is a wrangler by nature and a writer by choice, published with Noble Romance Publishing, Ravenous Romance, Dreamspinner Press, STARbooks Press, Untreed Reads Publishing, Changeling Press, and Coming Soon to Amber Allure with TOUGH GUY. You can find out more about Bryl at: bryltyne.com

In Love and War by Lydia Nyx

I put this up as a free read on GLBT Bookshelf. When you're done reading the excerpt, click the links at the bottom to get the WHOLE thing for FREE!

This story takes place on the eve of advancement before the Greek-Roman battle of Heraclea in 280 BC. The main characters are Macedonian and part of the allied army of Macedonia who advance with King Pyrrhus of Epirus. I tried to be largely realistic pertaining to the sexual conventions of the time, which makes it a little less typical than most erotic fiction.

Blurb: On the eve of the Greek-Roman battle of Heraclea, General Karanos of the allied Macedonian army enjoys the hospitality of his old friend and once-lover Nikanor. Nostalgic for old dalliances, he quickly learns Nikanor has a new dalliance of his own: a beautiful, fierce young man named Amyntas. However, old passions are not so easily quelled--nor are new ones.

Excerpt:

Time passed and Karanos sunk deeper into the cushions of the couch, his limbs heavy with wine. The dancers sat upon the men’s laps and laughed, their voices tinkling with the music. A few tried to draw Nikanor’s attention but he waved them off. When Zeuxis finally rose and went to another couch Nikanor sprawled out, one foot on the cushions and the other on the stone floor. He wore a simple unadorned chiton without a cloak, no special dress for his farewell celebration. His feet were bare. Karanos felt a fondness deep inside him and smiled. Nikanor’s lack of convention made him ironically more appealing, to everyone. Nikanor stared at the ceiling, head reclined on the arm of the couch, his hands folded and resting upon his stomach.

One of the dancing girls came by, swaying her hips, and stopped beside Nikanor’s couch. She reached down and put a finger to his chest and Karanos heard her speaking lowly. Nikanor drew her down by the arm and whispered something in her ear.

Thetima spoke. “Women love my son, but he does not suffer them well.”

Karanos glanced at her, and then back at Nikanor. The girl suddenly stood upright, frowning petulantly, and moved away from him. Clearly, whatever Nikanor had said did not please her. Nikanor stared up at the ceiling again.

“He has no time for such pursuits,” Thetima said, never looking up. “Love for a woman is weakness. Do you love your wife, General Karanos?”

Karanos blinked, his cup hovering near his lips again. “I do. She has borne my son.”

“And does your wife understand your life? Your life of war and killing?”

“Of course not. But I do not ask her to. I would rather she not realize the truth of such things.”

“So I think Nikanor feels, that any wife he took would suffer.” Thetima gave a soft sigh. “He could not bear to expose her to it and yet he could not keep it from her. For it is who he is.”

Karanos thought on that. “I understand. But it is lonely without a wife. Even if they do not understand, at least they are there.”

“Is she here?” Thetima paused in her threading. She held a shell up to the light and examined it. “Is your wife here to ease the loneliness?”

Karanos did not speak.

“Of course she isn’t.” Thetima rested the shell on the cloth again. “She is not here because you would not expose her to it. And so you are lonely, when you sought not to be. This is the problem Nikanor knows full well. He could only ease his loneliness with one who understands his life. So it is with many men of Macedon. You lay with each other to share wisdom, but it is not only that. ”

Karanos was surprised to hear her speak so.

“Do not look so startled.” She glanced up at him, her eyes as calm as a windless sea. “Long have I been in the midst of men. Long have I heard tales and jests when they thought it did not matter if I heard, for I was only a woman. I do not fault you for it. You must take your peace where it is offered. I know of men and their ways.” She drew a small pouch from her side and from it, dumped a pile of glittering glass beads. “Loneliness must east itself where it may.”

Karanos wished for more wine in his cup.

“You desire my son,” she said.

It was bold of her to speak of such a thing and he had to restrain himself from chastising her, for she was not his mother and it was not his place. Nikanor sat up suddenly on his couch, placing both feet on the floor, and leaned down to retrieve his cup near the leg of the couch.

“I know men your age do not desire one so old as my son.” Thetima began stringing the beads with the shells. “I know this desire only arises from a need for understanding and companionship. But you have a past with him, one that you do not speak of.”

“Why do you say this!” Karanos was finally unable to withhold his outrage. “Do you seek to shame me?”

“No, my intention is not shame. It is a warning.”

Karanos frowned, studying her profile. “A warning?”

Suddenly, a draft passed through the hall. It made the lamps flicker and the fire burn brighter for an instant. Karanos felt a warm tingling on his arms and wondered how much wine he’d truly drank.

“How long has it been since you last saw Nikanor?” Thetima asked. “Five years? Six?”

“Too many.”

“Things have changed a bit since then.” She glanced up.

Karanos turned to see where she was looking and his gaze fell upon the doors. They had just opened, accounting for the draft. A young man entered the hall. He wore a deep blue chiton that fell to mid-thigh, pinned twice at the shoulders so they peeked through the resulting gaps, narrow and golden. His legs were long and lean, bronze as the rest of his skin, the laces of his sandals lashed to the knee. He wore his hair long like Nikanor’s, though it was darker and straighter. Around his neck hung a shelled necklace similar to the one Thetima wove. He was Amyntas, son of Timandros, and Karanos had known him as a boy. Thetima cared for him after his parents were stricken down by typhus and in letters to Karanos, she often spoke of his growth. He was going with them to see his first battle.

“Amyntas!” Karanos lifted his cup, though it was empty, to the youth in greeting. Amyntas nodded in return. The firelight on his skin and in his eyes made him glow like a bronze-cast sculpture.

“So potent he is,” Thetima murmured. “Do you not feel it?”

“What do you mean?” Karanos asked softly.

“He is young, and full of power. He is also as the lion that adamantly guards its territory. Beware, Karanos. Study well before you assume old dalliances. He was but a child when last you saw him. He is a child no more.”

The other men greeted Amyntas, and he them. Nikanor made no sound or move. He remained lounged on the couch, tugging idly at a lock of hair. Amyntas came near him and stopped. Karanos gazed upon Amyntas and wondered at Thetima’s words.

Clear they became when Amyntas fell elegantly upon the couch and draped his long, sleek legs decisively across Nikanor’s lap. He held his hand out for a cup from one of the serving girls. His eyes fell on Karanos, and though his smile was friendly, his gaze was fierce.

As fierce as a lion’s.

Get the entire story free on GLBT Bookshelf or on my website!

Lydia Nyx on GLBT Bookself

The Game in Spain by Lydia Nyx

Blurb: In Madrid, Spain, during Carnival, gorgeous Spanish gymnast, Alejandro Salvador, leads his trainer, Gabriel, and his ex-boyfriend Sebastian on a wild and sexy chase through the streets. Promising the one who gets to him first gets him as their prize, he thinks he runs the game he's playing. Little does he know, the two men, both in desperate lust with him, will realize competition isn't necessary when they can have twice the fun working together.

Excerpt:

"Why did you come?" Sebastian asked accusingly.

"He left me a letter." Gabriel placed his hand defensively over his jacket pocket. "He kept talking about the Carnival. He told me to come."

"He left me one too." Sebastian put a hand on his hip pocket. "I'll be in Plaza Mayor—"

"Catch me if you can," Gabriel finished. "Get here first and I'm yours. I wondered what he meant by that. Then I saw you at the airport. I should have guessed."

Sebastian snorted. "He's certainly got some brass, doesn't he?" He looked up and down the alley again.

"Yes, he certainly does." Gabriel adjusted his mask from slipping down on his sweaty skin.

"Maybe we should go this way," Sebastian said, pointing to the opposite end of the alley. "He might be down there."

"He's probably laughing at us," Gabriel said. "With that sexy little laugh of his."

As if on cue, the exact sound Gabriel described issued from above, and they both looked up.

Alejandro stood on the balcony above them, leaning on the railing, smiling sweetly. "Are you tired?" he asked, turning something over in his fingers.

A key.

"Or did you get lost?" The blue eye mask rested atop his head, his dark hair pushed up in wild clumps. His eyes sparkled, his face glowed.

Gabriel eyed the key in his hand, flashing in the light.

"Alej!" Sebastian said beseechingly. "You got us here. Are you going to keep playing with us?"

Alejandro looked thoughtful, a smile on his lips. He stood up. "Sixteen," he said.

"What?" Sebastian asked.

Alejandro flung the key into the air; it fell, twinkling in the light, and Alejandro disappeared before it hit the ground.

Gabriel and Sebastian scrambled wildly and collided as they both tried to catch the prize. The key bounced off Gabriel's fingertips and tinkled on the stones. They both dove forward. A mad scuffle ensued, the two of them pushing at each other, Sebastian's elbow digging painfully into Gabriel's ribs as he tried to force him down. Gabriel yelped and pounded his fist between Sebastian's shoulder blades. Sebastian shoved him and knocked him off balance, and scrambled away a second later with the key in hand.

"Fuck you!" Sebastian laughed triumphantly. He raced to the door of the building.

Gabriel shot after him in a surge of fury. Sebastian fled through the door and slammed it behind him. Gabriel yanked the handle but the door had locked. He ripped off his mask, the cold air chilling his hot face, and looked wildly up at the balcony.

"Goddamn it!" He flung the mask down.

It wasn't over, though. He wouldn't concede so easily.

After a furious minute of pacing and calculating, he reasoned the balcony hovered about eight feet off the ground. Alejandro Salvador held the position of Olympic-bound Spanish gymnast, beguiling the world with his coy charm and impeccable skill, but Gabriel had trained him, at least, in the skill department. The bars of the wrought iron railing were spaced far enough apart to grab. Gabriel looked around and spotted a metal trashcan with a lid. He sat atop the lid to test the can's strength, and the metal didn't give. He pushed the can over beneath the balcony.

Gabriel walked backward, pushing his sleeves up. The alley wasn’t very wide, but he could get enough speed if he took off quickly. His back pressed against the wall opposite the balcony, he took a deep breath. His muscles were plenty warmed up from chasing Alejandro.

The trashcan lid buckled when his feet hit it with so much force, which didn't give him quite the height he wanted, but his momentum propelled him. He caught the bars with both hands, glad they were smooth so he had a strong grip. He swung a leg up and wedged his heel between two of the bars, applied all his upper body strength, and used his foot to push. Once successfully up, he had only to vault over the railing. He hadn't lost a bit of grace since his own days on the bars.

"You're about to get a big surprise," he muttered as he crossed the balcony, muscles burning, heart thudding. He stopped and took a moment to compose himself, pushing his sleeves down and running a hand through his hair. Then, with shoulders squared, he yanked open the balcony door.

On the other side was a hotel room—airy and lavish, with high, rounded windows and a marble-tiled floor. A huge bed sat in the middle of the room, with a dark oak headboard and posts without a canopy. Lamps in the corners chased shadows up to a cavernous, molded ceiling. The room possessed a lovely, old-world charm, but a different Spanish charm interested Gabriel.

Alejandro stood near the bed . . . with Sebastian. Sebastian had removed his mask and it dangled from his hand; his colorful hair hung around his face. He looked horrified when he saw Gabriel. Alejandro just smiled, his dark eyes twinkling.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Sebastian asked.

"Talent." Gabriel stared him down. "You're just his promoter. I'm still a gymnast. I didn't need to take the stairs."

"Well, well." Alejandro folded his arms, his voice a soft lilt. "This is interesting. What shall I do now?"

Gabriel and Sebastian glared at each other, gazes locked fiercely, but after a long moment they both softened with a knowing, shared frustration. They'd come all the way to Madrid, chased Alejandro through the streets, fought over the key to his room, and sacrificed their pride to get to him first. Both were tired and worked up. Both had a right to the prize.

"You know," Sebastian said, "he has put us through a lot."

"Quite a lot," Gabriel replied.

"It wasn't very nice of him."

"No, it wasn't."

Alejandro looked between them, wariness in his eyes. Gabriel and Sebastian moved in.

"What . . . ?" Alejandro looked from one to the other and gasped softly when Gabriel pulled the mask off his head. He tossed it to the floor. Sebastian ran his fingers through Alejandro's sparkling hair. The glitter showered down his back and fell like gentle rain to the tile.

"This is what you wanted," Gabriel whispered in Alejandro's ear. Alejandro smelled like the Carnival, like the cool evening air.

Sebastian caressed a finger beneath Alejandro's chin and turned his face to him. Gabriel grasped the opportunity to kiss the silken skin of the Spaniard's neck.

"You wanted both of us," Sebastian said. "You can't decide, can you Alej? That's why you played this game."

"And what a lovely game it was," Gabriel murmured against his neck. He nibbled at the tendon there. "But we're in charge now."

Alejandro seemed overwhelmed but not resistant. Sebastian slid an arm around Alejandro's slender waist and Gabriel gripped the bottom of his shirt. He tugged the fabric up over his smooth, flat belly and caressed him. Gabriel felt his abdominal muscles pull in, quivering.

"Don't," Alejandro said weakly. He turned his face to Gabriel as Sebastian nuzzled the other side of his neck.

Gabriel slid his hand up, gripped the collar of Alejandro's shirt, and tugged the fabric aside. He slid his teeth over his bare shoulder. Alejandro gasped.

"Don't?" Gabriel asked. "Are you sure that's the word you want?"

"I don't think it is," Sebastian said. He traced Alejandro's trembling, glistening lips with his fingertips. Alejandro opened his mouth, eyes slipping closed, his dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

Gabriel whispered, "I think the word you want is . . . ."

"Si," Alejandro gasped. He titled his chin up as their mouths explored his neck, his shoulders, his collarbone.

Buy it at Noble Romance Publishing!

Lydia Nyx on GLBT Bookshelf

Carnival, by B.J. Scott, Beau to Beau books

INTRO:
Carnival Week was looked forward to by every young male eager to experience his first “thrill” rides. Lou was eighteen this year and this was his night. The first night of Carnival Week was reserved for young men just like Lou, those who had “come of age” during the past year. Lou knew that every ride was different, and couldn’t wait to see which masked man would claim him for each new ride.

EXCERPT:
Victor left Lou alone just long enough to retreat into the side room and come back dressed like the other non-newbies. He wore the same mask, but wore a black robe instead of the jeans and shirt he had come in. Lou looked around. At least there were others like him, in jeans. “Nice robe, sexy,” Lou said. “You want what’s underneath, don’t you?” Victor teased back. “You know it.” Lou did want Victor. He would love to strip that robe off him right now.

Victor stuck his hand in Lou’s back pocket and pulled him into the room. “Here, have some punch,” Victor said, pouring them both a glass. “I think I’m ready for something stronger than punch, Vic.” “Try it and see.” Lou took a big gulp and then forced it down. “It’s not for kids,” Victor laughed. “Shit, what’s in this?” “The good stuff, trust me.” Lou knew that Victor liked his drink, but damn, this stuff was strong. Lou filled his glass a second time. Victor gulped his third, and took Lou by the hand.

They walked around the room, Lou looking at the masks, and Victor sizing up the newbies. The music was loud, and the dancing was wild. There were lights of all colors dancing around casting shadows on everyone. “This is fantastic, Victor.” Victor smiled at his young prize.

****

The music stopped suddenly. Lou stood still. The lights continued to dance, but otherwise the room was black. Lou shifted his weight from one leg to the other, until he felt someone’s arms on his hips and nice lips on his, forcibly opening his mouth. “Mm,” the man said. Lou liked being kissed by this man, and he opened his mouth more. “Mm,” the man said again, and then withdrew his lips from Lou’s. He shoved his hand between Lou’s legs and slowly brought it forward over Lou’s balls and upward along his newly formed erection.

A moment later the music began again and as Lou’s eyes adjusted to the light, he looked around trying to find the man whose lips had felt so good. The man was gone though, and soon his friend Victor was by his side once again. “Brought you some more punch. How was your first ride?” “Isn’t it obvious?” Lou looked down at his erection that had made a prominent outline in his jeans. Victor looked too, but just for a second. They had their masks back on, so the full effect of their eye expressions could not be seen. “Come on. Let’s join the others and dance.”

http://www.beautobeau.com
All Romance ebooks, 1Erotica ebooks

A MATTER OF TRUST by AC Katt

EXCERPT – Drawer 67

Antonio thought he was clever, but was in truth foolish, gullible and vain. He left Trenton and Bear for the bright lights of the Big Apple. Six months later, Bear received a call from the Sixth Precinct of the NYPD to come to the city and identify the body. The police found Bear’s address clutched in the hand of a boy dumped in an alleyway off Seventh Avenue behind Weng-Feng Wok, a local Chinese restaurant. The owners, Misters Weng and Feng, discovered the body when they took the kitchen garbage out to the dumpster after a 3:00 a.m. closing. Bear vividly remembered the scene.

A Detective Sergeant by the name of Patrick O’Malley, a wiry Irishman from Homicide, brought Bear into the squad room.

“Take a seat, Mr. Drummond. As I explained to you on the telephone, we found your address clutched in the victim’s hand.

“Have you ever seen this before Sergeant O’Malley?”

“Unfortunately, this young man is not the first found in that condition in this precinct.” O’Malley responded. The Detective Sergeant laconically pointed to the pictures of young men pinned to a corkboard on a wall of the room, visible from every desk.

“All of their faces were beaten and cut to a point beyond recognition.” O’Malley continued.

Bear grimaced.

“You can make the ID from a photo.” O’Malley suggested sympathetically.

“No, I’d rather see him and be certain.” Bear said as he silently prayed the man in the photo was not his former sub.

They took a Squad Car for the silent ride to the City Offices of the Chief Medical Examiner. Bear was in a fog of guilt and remorse. O’Malley ushered him into the cold room followed by one of the assistant coroners.

Bear shivered. The bodies of the victims were stacked in drawers that were piled four high and consumed the entire back wall of the room.

O’Malley spoke, “Drawer sixty-seven.”

The assistant opened the drawer and slowly drew the sheet from the body.

Bear gasped, and then gagged. O’Malley grabbed his arm.

“Do you recognize the victim?”

“Yes, it is Antonio Rialto.” It was Antonio, but an Antonio Bear would not have been able to identify save for a birthmark on his lower left abdomen.

O’Malley spoke again, “You’re sure.”

“Yes I am sure, I remember the crescent shaped birthmark, it was unique.” Bear gazed at his former sub. The dark Botticelli angel’s face was riddled with deep cuts made by a serrated knife. Both eyes were black and even after time in the cold drawer, swollen shut.”

The assistant coroner spoke, “The autopsy showed every rib was broken and the lung perforated. They shot out his kneecaps and his whole body is covered in welts. He was whipped.”

Bear was lost in thought, tears coursed down his face; more poignant for his silence. He did not notice his wet cheeks. The beautiful boy in drawer sixty-seven was provocative, mischievous and so very alive in his memory. He was just twenty-six. The toy had failed to please.

O’Malley grabbed Bear’s arm and ushered him out of the room handing Bear his handkerchief. Bear was thirty-two years old and had not cried since he was sixteen. He made a silent vow, I will never cry again.

Bear turned to O’Malley, “You’ll get this bastard?”

“With your cooperation…” O’Malley countered.

“Anything you need,” Bear replied between clenched teeth.

On the ride back to Trenton, the tears coursed down his cheeks as he repeated his mantra, I will never cry again, I will never cry again, I will never…

Buy this book from XOXO Publishing

I Choose Us, by Shannon Pearce

INTRO:
Jason was surprised to hear that Daniel’s life was less than ideal. He had always seemed happy when they were together. Inviting Daniel to his cabin for a weekend, Jason learns of Daniel’s troubled life and also learns much more about himself. They were more than friends now, though exactly what they were to each other neither was sure. At All Romance ebooks, 1Romance ebooks.

EXCERPT:
Jason looked over at Daniel and thought that his wife must have lost her mind. Daniel was so good to her, and he was gorgeous. In his mid thirties, like Jason, the years had been a friend to him. His body was strong and lean in its six foot frame, with strong muscular thighs. Jason was a few inches shorter, but with about the same build. The only really noticeable difference between them was their hair color. Jason’s hair was straight and thick, with a mass of dark hair on his arms and legs, and everywhere else on his body. Daniel’s hair was lighter, curly, with little hair on his body. Daniel had a wonderful sense of humor, and he and Jason had always had a great time together. They both loved life and both loved to laugh, and since the night of Daniel’s birthday they had enjoyed a closeness that both had needed in their life.
******
Jason woke after just a couple of hours and looked over at Daniel. He was sleeping soundly, and Jason looked at his naked body. His chest didn’t have nearly the amount of hair that Jason’s had, and his nipples were large, and Jason had a sudden urge to kiss them and suck the supple buds until they were hard, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to wake him. He looked at Daniel’s fluffy bush that surrounded a semi-erect penis. His balls were quite large and looked full and heavy again. Jason stared at Daniel’s cock and wondered what it would be like to suck it. He didn’t want to upset Daniel but they had gotten close last night, closer than any two men he knew. As he continued to stare, his curiosity got the best of him.
******
Jason was sound asleep when the key turned in the lock. Daniel walked in, locked the door behind him, and set down his three suitcases in the living room. It was after ten and after the long weekend, he thought that Jason was probably asleep since it was so quiet. Daniel took his suitcases to Jason’s guest bedroom and made himself at home. I’ll talk to him in the morning, he said to himself. Daniel stripped down to his underwear and got into bed. Then he began to think about this weekend and how much he and Jason had shared. He got out of bed and looked in at Jason sleeping in his bed. He was sleeping soundly with an occasional snoring sequence. The covers were off and his naked form was beautiful. Daniel had been too distracted this weekend by his own problems to notice just how gorgeous his friend was. His mouth that had kissed him so gently, yet somewhat passionately, was perfect, and those lips that had brought him the sexual release that he had definitely needed were parted just enough to make Daniel want to kiss them and part them even more. The rise and fall of Jason’s chest with his breathing brought his nipples to Daniel’s attention, and he wanted to place his lips on them too.

The Company Dad Kept, by BK Wright

INTRO:Maxwell Turner has spent a lifetime building a company that his son will one day inherit, and has spent his son’s lifetime keeping a secret from him. Maxwell is gay and has been living with the love of his life for the past three years, a man who gave up everything to be with him, and the one man Maxwell could never live without. When Maxwell’s son discovers that his father is gay, he vows to rid the company that is rightfully his of every “fag”, beginning with his own father. Distraught by his son’s attitude, Maxwell regrets having kept his secret all these years, and is now faced with decisions he was not prepared to make. At All Romance ebooks and 1Romance ebooks.

EXCERPT:
Maxwell was greeted by a kiss as he was joined on the deck. “Good morning, Max. What time does Nick’s plane come in?” “Three this afternoon.” “I will make one of my gourmet meals then.” “That would be wonderful. Thank you.” Just then the phone rang, and Maxwell went inside to answer it. He returned to the deck and said, “Well, Nick’s arrival couldn’t have come at a better time. I need to go to the office for a little while. If Nick calls, tell him I’ll pick him up at the airport.” “Will do, and I will see you later.” “I’ll stop by before I leave for the airport,” Max assured.
******
Chauncey wasn’t afraid to love. Chauncey had taken Max every way imaginable, and Max had never left their bed unsatisfied. Chauncey was between Max’s legs now, moving them apart further, as he helped himself to Max’s body. One touch from Chauncey and Max’s body responded with complete submission. “That’s my lover,” he said, and placed his big thick tongue between Max’s legs, holding his butt cheeks apart. Chauncey forced his warm wet tongue between Max’s butt cheeks so that the very tip could tease Max’s hole. “Ohh,” Max groaned, as he always did when Chauncey played with his hole. He entered Max with just the tip of his tongue before moving upward, pressing on the satiny smoothness beneath Max’s balls which caused the first drop to show itself at the very tip of Max’s penis. Max moaned for this most giving lover, and enjoyed the senses that Chauncey was awakening in him once again. Chauncey lifted each of Max’s heavy cum filled balls onto his thick flat tongue and into his moisture filled mouth. “Mmm,” he hummed, causing more drops to fall on Max’s skin. “I’ve not been good to my Max,” Chauncey said, as he lifted the other ball. “They should never be allowed to get this heavy. We wouldn’t want an unexpected explosion.” Max loved Chauncey’s humor, even in bed.
******
The alarm went off the next morning and Max reached out and pushed the button. “Now this is the way to wake up,” Chauncey said, still on him and still in him. He turned Max’s head and kissed him on the lips. “Morning, baby,” he said. He kissed his neck with slow kisses. Max was already hard. The very touch of Chauncey excited him now. No seduction was necessary, though Max didn’t mind at all. He loved Chauncey, and felt lucky to have him. Max thrust up against Chauncey, whose rod was still inside him and hard again. “Mm, you’ve got something for me, baby?” “I might,” Max teased. Chauncey reached underneath Max and found what he wanted. “There it is. Time to go, buddy.” He stroked Max and thrust his penis inside him, as if they had never stopped last night. Almost every morning began like this, and Max loved the feel of this man in him and on him.
******
Nick looked at the sheets on each member and each executive. Max watched as Nick studied each one. “The personal information on some of these employees intrigues me, Dad.” “Why is that, Nick?” “Well, like these two, same address, come on, Dad, I’m not stupid. And, here are two more. This one is questionable, if you know what I mean.” Max was stunned at Nick’s comments. “What do you mean, Nick?” “Let me make myself clear, Dad. There will be no place for fags in my company.” “With all due respect, son, Turner Tech Group is not your company. It is still mine.” “A matter of time and paperwork, Dad, that’s all.”
******
The next morning they were on a company jet to New York City. They were staying in the heart of Manhattan in a suite that Chauncey had booked, overlooking Central Park. “It’s beautiful, Chauncey, but if I’m not mistaken this is a honeymoon suite.” “Yes it is, but to us it is a pre-honeymoon suite. Champagne and strawberries right here.” Chauncey picked up a strawberry and pulled Max to him, dangling the strawberry so that it just touched his lips. Max pulled the strawberry with his lips into his mouth. “Lucky little strawberry,” Chauncey said, with envy. He kissed Max again, opening his mouth, and licking the strawberry. Then he stopped and poured the champagne. “Yes, that is one lucky strawberry,” he said, and licked his lips.

Brothers-in-Law, by Shannon Pearce

INTRO:
Chance had made them brothers-in-law, and time together had made them friends and confidantes, with a palpable sexual tension between them which was always carefully cloaked in friendly banter. Since Andy’s divorce from the sister of Kevin’s wife, the two brothers-in-law have not seen each other nearly as much as they once had, and both missed this time together. With Kevin’s wife out of town for the weekend, the two brothers-in-law will now have a chance to catch up.

EXCERPT:
Andy had been in a relationship with a man before he had married his wife, having considered himself to be bisexual. But after being married for awhile, he realized that he was gay. He had been willing to stay with his wife, but she knew that neither of them would ever be happy. Instead of continuing their charade of a marriage, they had parted ways several months ago. Andy had loved spending time with Kevin, though, hanging out and stuff, and missed getting together with him like they had when he was married to Kevin’s wife’s sister. He would often fantasize about taking Kevin, seeing him naked, sucking his cock, but had known better than to take that first step. Andy knew that Kevin was much too straight-laced to even consider being with a man, but had always fantasized about what it would be like to get inside his pants.
******
Andy finally turned off the television and went to bed. He left the door open a little, not thinking anything of it, and began stripping off his clothes. He was laying his pants on the chair, naked now, and didn’t see Kevin standing in the door way. “Nice view,” Kevin said, and Andy nearly jumped out of his skin. “I thought you were asleep,” he said in startled response. Andy didn’t try to cover himself, however, but returned Kevin’s smart remark. “Aren’t you a little overdressed?” Andy had thought about asking Kevin to come kiss him goodnight, but then thought better of it. He couldn’t help but notice and stare at the bulge in Kevin’s shorts. Neither of them said anything, and neither of them moved, but both continued to stare at the other awaiting the next move.
******
Lying in bed with the man he had fantasized about was almost too much for Andy. He didn’t dare do anything, did he? Kevin would freak. Andy let his left leg bump against Kevin’s under the covers to test the waters, so to speak. He didn’t move away, nor did he say anything. “If your wife could see you now, this would be really hard to explain,” Andy said, and looked over at Kevin. Andy continued. “I’d better go back. I’m pretty tired.” Andy kept waiting for Kevin to say something, but he didn’t. He just continued to look at Andy. Andy knew Kevin too well and had known him for too long to think that he was going to make the first move. That would never happen.
******
When Andy awoke the next morning, Kevin was not lying next to him. Andy got up and heard the shower. He walked slowly into Kevin’s bathroom and could see the silhouette of his beautiful naked body. Did he dare join him? He wanted to, but didn’t know how Kevin might feel about last night. Andy turned and started to leave the bathroom when the shower door opened. Kevin’s hand was on his arm, and Andy felt himself being pulled into the shower. Then he felt the wet tiles of the shower on his back and Kevin’s body pressed against his. At first, Andy feared he might be killed right there by his own brother-in-law. Kevin looked at him, the water beating down and clouding his view of Andy’s face.

House of Van, by B.J. Scott

INTRO:
Toby had begged Van to come to one of his parties, and now he was finally here. Toby had no idea what to expect, but a blowjob within the first few minutes of his arrival was definitely a good way to get a party going. Toby soon learns that the House of Van is a business, and that Van is very specific about the requirements of the men who work for him. He also learns that pleasing men is sometimes learned the hard way. `All Romance ebooks`; `1Romance ebooks`

EXCERPT:
This was Toby’s first time at one of Van’s parties. He had begged Van to let him come, but Van had always told him that he wasn’t ready yet for one of his parties. Van knew that Toby had never been to a party like the ones he had but if he was so anxious to come, this would be the perfect time for his introduction.
******
The man giving the blowjob started talking to Toby while he continued to stroke the man’s cock which was now soaked by saliva. Toby could see the man’s cock that was huge compared to his own. “Want to watch? It’s a great way to relieve what you got there.” Toby was embarrassed that the man could see his hard cock in the darkness through his pants. “We’ll probably be here for quite awhile. You’ll like what you see.” Toby wasn’t shy really, but wasn’t used to seeing other guys’ cocks and didn’t really want Van’s friends to see his hard cock. The man returned to sucking the guy’s cock, but the guy getting the blowjob watched as Toby started to leave. “Hey, let me see what’s making your pants bulge so much. Pull your cock out and let me see it.” Toby let his cock out so the man could see. “Damn, that’s a nice cock you’ve got there, nice and hard too, I see.” Both men were now staring at Toby’s cock. Toby’s cock was solid stone now and he struggled to get it back inside his pants. The man giving the blowjob returned to his sucking, making slurping sounds as the man sitting on the stool leaned back and watched Toby fighting with his cock. The guy on the stool could see that Toby was having trouble. “Hey there, looks like you’ve got a hard problem. Need some help with it?” Toby almost ran out of the room but wasn’t fast enough. The man on the stool reached out and wrapped his hand around Toby’s cock and slowly stroked his fingers up and down. Toby was embarrassed. He had never had another man stroke his cock before and wanted to run out of the room. The man was not going to let him leave. “You’ve got a nice sized cock there, pal. Come a little closer so I can take care of you better.” He pulled Toby by his cock over to the stool. “That is a really nice cock,” the man said, as he stroked Toby’s cock. Toby couldn’t take his eyes off the man who was blowing the guy on the stool. “I’m Kevin,” said the man holding Toby’s cock. He pulled Toby’s cock to his mouth and squeezed Toby’s ass inside his jeans. Kevin took Toby’s cock into his mouth and Toby moaned as it slid down Kevin’s throat.

A Chance Taken, by Shannon Pearce

INTRO:
A Beau to Beau short story
Sensual and Sexual, with Passion, Pleasure, and Longing

Friends for years, Greg and Mike have laughed together, cried together, and learned together. Although Greg has now reached the pinnacle of his career, failed personal relationships have left him feeling empty and alone. The one person who knows him best understands Greg’s emptiness and knows exactly who can replace this emptiness with love and passion, and leads Greg to a life and love he would have never thought possible.

EXCERPT:
Greg was the chef of the group and had gone to Mike’s house early in the morning that day to prepare his prized prime rib with his special seasonings. Greg had stayed awhile afterward for coffee with Mike, and then had come over quite often during the day to check on the prime rib and to share another cup of coffee with Mike each time. Mike thought nothing of these frequent visits at first but as the day went on, he suspected that Greg wanted something more because he would linger a bit longer each time he came, just wanting to talk.
******
They were now standing face to face, their naked chests just inches apart. Mike gazed into Greg’s eyes as yet another tear slid down his face. Mike whispered, “Show me, Greg, you can do it.” Mike put his hand on Greg’s naked, hot shoulder, his skin warm against the hardness of his muscles. Greg moved closer to Mike until the hairs of their chests mingled, the heat of Greg’s thick hard chest muscles warming Mike’s own skin. They fell into a bear hug, with Greg’s face burrowed into Mike’s shoulder, as Greg began to sob quietly. Mike took Greg into his arms and held him tightly with one hand holding his head next to him, as he felt Greg’s chest heave with his sobs, his tears wetting Mike’s shoulder.
******
Slowly, Mike rubbed his hands across Greg’s back and down to his butt cheeks, exploring the huge muscles underneath the cloth of Greg’s pants as he felt Greg’s strength and his heat. Mike pushed Greg back a little, took his hands in his, and hooked Greg’s fingers into the waistband of his shorts. “Strip me, Greg,” Mike whispered, as he pushed his hands down, starting to slide his shorts over his hard cock and full and eager balls. Greg looked down at Mike’s cock emerging from the cloth, and he crouched to pull Mike’s shorts completely off, then freeing them from his feet, and then returning his gaze to Mike’s now completely naked manhood, his cock head oozing pre-cum, his shaft pointed toward the ceiling and throbbing to the beat of his own heart. Mike took Greg’s hand again, and placed it on the shaft of his cock. “Feel me, Greg,” Mike whispered. “I’m all yours.”
******
Slowly, Mike pulled Greg to the floor until he lay flat on the rug in front of the fire, his legs splayed open framing his hard, pulsing cock which rose high above the thick mass of his curly hair that surrounded his cock and balls, trailing up his hard, rippled abdomen into the curly matt of hair covering his hard chest. Mike straddled Greg’s head, his own hard cock now dancing above Greg’s hairy lips, his balls dangling down above Greg’s eyes. Mike’s lips explored Greg’s chest of thick hair and his tender nipples which stiffened to a hard bud as Mike sucked and licked each of them, rubbing his beard against Greg’s chest hair and across the hard buds until Greg moaned with desire each time Mike tasted his tender, hot nipples.

http://www.beautobeau.com