Interview with GLBT Bookshelf's Our Story’s Nan Hawthorne by M. Kei

By M. Kei

Our guest today is Nan Hawthorne, editor-in-chief of Our Story GLBTQ Historical Fiction at the GLBT Bookshelf. She is the author of several works of historical fiction, including Beloved Pilgrim, a Lesbian/Transgender novel set during the Crusades. She is being interviewed by M. Kei, Moderator of the Our Story GLBTQ Historical Fiction email list, and author of Pirates of the Narrow Seas, gay nautical fiction set during the Age of Sail.

Kei: Welcome Nan. Thanks for chatting with us today.

Nan: I'm very pleased to talk with you. Our Story is one of the most exciting projects I have been invited to do and I thank Mel Keegan for that opportunity. This interview is another, an opportunity to explain what Our Story is all about.

Kei: Tell us about Our Story. What is it, and what can it do for readers and writers?

Nan: Our Story is an online resource of historical novels with gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and queer themes. It is part of a remarkable tool, GLBT Bookshelf, a wiki, set up by longtime gay author Mel Keegan to bring together authors, readers, publishers, and even artists as a collaborative effort. Anyone can add to it. It's at http://www.glbtbookshelf.com, and in fact, it is designed to be the responsibility of everyone who loves GLBT books. There you will find a growing list of books, mostly fiction, information on authors and publishers, and reviews by members of the Bookshelf community.

A Daring, Devoted Heart by Linda Hines

Published by DreamCraft
ISBN: 978-0-9807092-7-8
Genre: Western Romance.
Length: 37,500 words.
Cover: Jade.
Heat rating: 3.5
Price: $4.99
Buy Here

Years ago, revenge brought Emeric von Gondrecourt to New Mexico. Now, the force keeping him there is loyalty to the Metairie family — and his love for the young Calder Metairie, who has grown up while Emeric watched.

The two men are separated by geography, history, language, culture — one, born an Austrian prince just before upheaval in Europe would rob him of his birthright, the other born to head a cattle ranch as vast as small European countries. Both were born to different kinds of power, positions of command, and lives bound by duty. And both share a secret.

Being gay at this volatile time in America's history is damned dangerous. Being two men in love is a hazard Calder and Emeric fully recognize —

But the simmering frustration with which Calder grapples, every moment of every day, is Emeric's stubborn refusal to allow himself to love, and to express his feelings in any physical sense. For Emeric, the situation is a labyrinth of duty and loyalty, desire and the determination to honor promises he made to the Metairie family in the wake of his one terrible mistake. The Metairies forgave Emeric once, and he enjoys a certain comradeship within the great Alteza cattle empire. He has worked long and hard to earn their trust and respect ... but would they forgive him a second time if his crime, this time, were to lay a lover's hands on Calder? For an Austrian warrior prince, the dilemma is bleak.

The situation between the two men is already like a powderkeg on a short fuse only waiting for a spark, when horse thieves steal Emeric's priceless Andalusian stallion, Lagrimas. The horse's name is prophetic ... it's the Spanish for tears, and this magnificent animal is at the epicenter of troubles, danger, which will bring Emeric and Calder face to face with their personal devils, once and for all.

A DARING, DEVOTED HEART is a Western with a difference. Not merely an m/m romance, it's also "quest fiction," taking a pair of mismatched heroes through country which brings to mind the works and words of Zane Grey, and culminating in a double-barreled climax — it's a hail of hot lead and a struggle to survive, before Calder Metairie and Emeric von Gondrecourt take those devils by the horns.

Chapter One

Beside the shaded riverbank, the buffalo grass was abundant, protected from the parching late summer sun of northern New Mexico by a leafy veil. Scattered sunlight filtered through the heavy foliage, dappling the leaves and painting whimsical shadows across the curly mesquite which blanketed the ground. Great branches stretched out across the river, coloring the canopied pools a cool viridian. Two riders halted from their journey there, as the hardwood gallery of bur oak, green ash and cottonwoods hailed a welcoming retreat.

Dismounting the big buckskin, Calder Metairie turned to his dark companion and laughed, as if once again wishing to rouse the prince from his serious thoughts. "Enough, I say," chided the spirited cowboy, hands on hips. "You voice concern when there is none. I am a man well grown."

"Too well grown," retorted Emeric von Gondrecourt, black eyes narrowing as he studied him. Carefully groomed to manage the Metairie Cattle Company's huge operation, Calder Metairie was impressive in stature and a skilled leader of men. Confident and charismatic at twenty-three, he was a young giant. With his handsome features, commanding presence and engaging ways, the young rancher attracted attention wherever he went. Too much attention, mused the prince, and usually of the wrong sort!

Amused, Calder tilted his Stetson to reflect his audacious personality. The bright blue shirt he wore contrasted sharply with his partner's darker garb. Worn and stained shotgun chaps covered his long, lean legs. A gun belt was prominent on his hip. Fancy silver spurs crowned the heels of his custom-made Coffeyville boots. And an elegant silver buckle graced his hand-tooled belt, the distinctive stylized M, a bold and recognizable symbol of strength throughout the rugged territory.

"I said enough, Emeric." Calder unsaddled Riago and pulled his bridle, freeing the buckskin gelding to graze among the high grass. Irritated still, he tossed his hat aside, brushing back his long dark hair, tying it at his nape with a rawhide cord. "Who are you to advise me on men? I don't try to pick your lovers."

"A man of more experience," he declared. "And there have been no lovers for you to pick." Prince by birth, warrior by circumstance — now at thirty-four, Emeric's features were quite striking, angular and gaunt. Lean, broad-shouldered, and physically powerful, Emeric von Gondrecourt was a haughty beast. A life hard fought had sharpened his mind, strengthened his body; its emotional scars lent his movements a wary leonine grace, and to those who threatened, he emanated a silent danger.

He was known as Jaeger along the Mediterranean and across the battlefields of Europe. The family he protected called him the Hunter.

Beneath long, thick lashes the cowboy's eyes changed with his moods, and Emeric noticed, now they were a deeper blue. "Calder, what may be accepted between two men in a warriors' camp, or behind closed doors at a princely court, can surely get you killed in the American territories in 1878."

"Emeric," Calder challenged with a wounded expression only his trusted companion understood, "I know of your life before, and the passion you once shared. But that was years ago. Why do you bridle your love now?"

"Calder," Emeric said softly to the man he knew who loved him — a feeling he deeply shared, but was honor-bound never to acknowledge, "because the only man I love is the one I cannot have."

"Me?" They stood close enough to touch, their words a whisper and a lamentation.

"Yes, you know that well enough."

"Emeric, why?"

"Your uncle extended to me his trust; my word, his only demand. Now, by my honor, he has me bound foot and hand."

"We are alone. Who would know?"

"I would. I gave my word to protect his family. I doubt that includes taking you to my bed."

"But it's not right. Who is he to set such boundaries?"

"Calder, what we share knows no boundaries. I feel your desire — know your love by every word you speak and every thoughtful action you perform."

"It is not enough. I need your touch. I need you part of me."

Emeric sighed. "I yearn for your touch as well. More than you will ever know. But it is the choice we were given. I can be here with you now. Choose devotion over desire. Or I must leave. For me, there is no other way."

The gaze they shared seemed endless and was the invocation of their longing. Both men knew words were not enough. Desire ached, and then it burned.

Deviled by discontent, young Metairie turned away. Quickly, he unpacked the harness and with a gentle stroke freed Mythos, the gelding who carried their supplies. The striking blood bay and golden buckskin presented a pleasing scene as they grazed at river's edge. Nodding to his companion, the cowboy set off to gather firewood, leaving Emeric to attend to his stallion and prepare their camp. Stripping his fine mount of leather and pack, Emeric loosed the silvery gray to quench his thirst and join the horses along the riverbank.

The viridian pool mirrored the prince's reflection, and he stared into its depths. He was plainly dressed in the European fashion. His shirt was of the finest linen; his waistcoat and breeches were black and severely cut. He possessed the long, muscular legs of a horseman; his tall gray boots, which were of the richest and most supple leather, seemed a part of him. A revolver on his hip and a black, low-crowned, broad-brimmed hat were the sole concessions to his presence on this continent.

Running a calloused hand through his dark, rumpled hair, Emeric turned his thoughts to ordering the camp. Eyes narrowing, he glanced through the tangle of trees, pondering their words, impatient for the return of his young companion.

"Lagrimas!"

The magnificent Andalusian stallion raised his sculpted head, dark eyes peering brightly through lustrous strands of silvery forelock. Neck arched, heavy mane tousled, he shook his head in spirited fashion. He was a big horse, strongly built, compact yet elegant, with a long, exquisite mane and tail.

One of the oldest pure breeds in the world, the Andalusian was known for its intelligence, sensitivity and docility. The horses originated on the Iberian Peninsula in Spain, where ancient cave paintings portrayed their noble breed. The chosen mount of captains and kings, the Andalusian was praised for its prowess as a war horse and prized by the nobility. The breed was used as a tool of diplomacy by the Spanish government, and was known as the Royal Horse of Europe. Alas, warfare and disease during the early nineteenth century had reduced the herds dramatically, and exportation from Spain had been restricted since that time.

"Come," he called, as Lagrimas nickered impatiently. Quickly, the gray approached, halting only when Emeric felt the rare stud's silky jaw brush gently against his own gaunt cheek. The soldier's whisper was a caress. Emeric had raised the stallion from a foal, and in 1873 brought him to America from the Mediterranean on his own great ship.

A Habsburg of both Spanish and Austrian descent, Emeric had often visited his austere grandfather in Spain — a nobleman of high rank and domineering ways. The Andalusian was bequeathed to him upon the old man's death. Honoring the stern old warrior, missing him still, Emeric named the spirited colt Lagrimas, which in the Spanish language meant tears. Now, along with Emeric's beloved books, the magnificent stallion was the only physical reminder of his life before.

The Hunter left his mount with a gentle word and a long caress. Inquisitive, the gray followed, gracefully bending his long neck to nuzzle about the saddles and packs spread haphazardly upon the ground. Amused, Emeric found pleasure in the antics of his silver stallion.

Of a splendid intellect, and a daring, devoted heart, Emeric's powers were all combined upon a single purpose: atonement.

Protecting Mariah Metairie, her daughter and her sons was his fervent vow.

But adversity molded the man, not condition of birth, as each experience, success and sorrow, shaped the mind and impacted the heart. Now, Emeric remembered once again the dramatic events which brought a dispossessed Austrian prince to the wildest territories in the American West — an old lover, misplaced passion, and an unforgivable lie.

Married until Monday, by Shannon Pearce, Beau to Beau books of Male Love

Intro:
Trips to the cabin were the best of times for Thom and Julius. They went as often as they could, when time away from their stressful careers would allow. Thom had loved Julius since college. Julius was the most accepting person Thom had ever known. He never once heard him pass judgment on anyone. Thom had never told Julius that he was gay, but thought that he had to have known. Thom had many gay friends, and a few lovers.

It isn’t until the two of them are well entrenched in their careers that Julius begins to have relationship problems. When his girlfriend leaves him, he turns to Thom, just as he has always done following his many breakups. Thom’s suggestion that they get away to their favorite cabin for the weekend is more than welcomed by Julius, but Thom is surprised by his friend’s latest revelation.

Excerpt:
Several years after their many wonderful years together as roommates, on the quite frequent occasions when they got together, these same types of questions about gay sex escalated after Julius had been emotionally torn apart by his girlfriend of several years. She had called it quits one night with no warning. Julius was devastated, and had called Thom right afterward. “What happened, buddy?” Thom didn’t know what to say. He had never been interested in girls the way that Julius was, sexually. Julius told him that she had met another man, but quickly changed the subject to ask more about gay sex. “What’s it like, that kind of intimacy, I mean?” “Hey Julius, why the increased curiosity about intimacy between males?” “Well, I have a confession, Thom. It kinda is what helped to cause the breakup with my girlfriend.” “Okay, what’s your confession?” “She caught me surfing explicit gay web sites.”

Thom didn’t know how to respond to this. It must have seemed like an hour had passed before Thom spoke again. “Are you still curious about gay sex, buddy, after all this time?” Thom tried to be as sensitive as he could be over the phone. “Would you like to experiment with someone you know you can trust?” Before Julius could answer, Thom went ahead and suggested that the two of them spend the weekend in the mountains. “How ‘bout it, Julius? It’s been awhile since we’ve gotten away to the cabin. Maybe a break is what both of us could use.” “Yeah, that’s always fun, just you and me. Thanks, Thom. That would be nice,” he whispered into the phone.

Thom’s heart was definitely not the only organ in his body to begin jumping with exhilaration at that moment. “I promise you that no one will ever know of our shared experience.” Thom wanted to assure him. He would do anything for Julius.

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He came with a Rose, B.K. Wright, Beau to Beau books

Intro:
Ethan has a wonderful life, filled with his two dogs, horses, and many other animals which have wandered onto his land over the years. He has the best friend that any man could have, a man who has become more than just a friend, if only in Ethan’s mind and in his dreams. When his friend asks him to attend a dinner with him one Saturday night, Ethan discovers much more about his good friend, who is also the veterinarian to his many animals, than he had already known. Dr. Holing has a secret which Ethan could not have imagined in even his wildest of dreams. Ethan’s Saturday night quickly becomes an adventure, an adventure which will change his life forever. At All Romance ebooks, 1Romance ebooks, Amazon.

Excerpt:
It was still dark outside when Ethan drove his trusty old pickup truck into the lot of the College of Veterinary Medicine Clinic on the north end of the beautiful campus. “Just a few more minutes, Princess, and you’ll be all better.” Ethan loved his Sheltie puppy. She and her brother, Hawker, were the loves of his life on the farm that he owned just a few miles north of the city. Ethan was a wheat farmer, and the land was to him what Tara was to Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind. It was his strength.

Dr. Bryce Holing met Ethan at the back door of the clinic. One of the best of the best veterinarians in the country, Dr. Holing knew Ethan well. He came out to Ethan’s farm whenever Ethan needed him, to tend to the larger animals that could not be brought to the city.

“How’s our little Princess?” “Not so good, Bryce. She swallowed something, but I don’t know what. I just hope it’s not something harmful.” Bryce knew how much Ethan genuinely loved his animals, especially his two Shelties, and he picked the sleepy dog up into his arms and carried her into the hospital. Ethan was right behind him, afraid for his precious Princess.

Dr. Holing laid the pretty dog on the table and looked her over. “She’ll be fine, right?” Bryce placed his hand on Ethan’s arm. “I’m sure she will be, Ethan,” he said, in his always comforting, always reassuring voice. He petted the sleepy dog and drew some blood. “We’ll get this back in just a few minutes, Ethan. Then we’ll know what to do.”

Bryce continued to pet Princess and talk to her as if she were a young child. He spoke this sweetly to all of his patients, and Ethan had never met a man with as much compassion as Dr. Holing. He watched as the kind doctor made his Princess feel better with the stroke of his hand on her soft fur.

Bryce’s assistant came back in with the lab results and handed them to the doctor. Bryce turned his back to Ethan as he studied the results. Ethan petted his sweet baby and waited for Bryce to turn back around. “Looks good, Ethan. I’m going to give her an injection which will kill the toxin. It will probably make her sleep most of the day. Just keep her safe and inside the house for the rest of the day, which I know that you will.” He was stroking Ethan’s arm as he spoke, and Ethan knew exactly why Dr. Holing’s patients loved him. Bryce’s touch was comforting to him, too, maybe a little too comforting. Bryce was not only nice, he was also very sexy, at least that was what Ethan thought.

***

He heard the deep comforting voice of Dr. Bryce Holing and felt his gorgeous body on his. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, Ethan. You know we’ve been tiptoeing around the truth for a long time now.” Ethan felt Bryce’s lips lightly brush his. “You want me, Ethan?” Ethan opened his mouth, eager to feel the lips that he had wanted from the first time he had met the kind doctor. Bryce kissed him gently, then firmly, like a lover. Ethan felt Bryce’s hands on his chest, speaking softly and seductively to him. “I want you so much, Ethan. I love you.” Ethan felt Bryce’s lips on his again before he could respond. His arms were around Bryce’s, eager to touch his warm body. The feel of Bryce’s hand on his hard cock was almost too much for Ethan to bear. He heard himself moan as Bryce reached his hand deep inside Ethan’s jeans, cupping his balls. He stroked Ethan’s pulsating cock, and Ethan could once again taste Bryce’s lips on his. “Mm,” he moaned. Bryce’s lips were just out of reach. Ethan tilted his chin upward. “Kiss me, Bryce,” he said.

Ethan could hear a phone ringing. “Let it ring, Bryce. Come back and make love to me.” The ringing continued, and Ethan could no longer feel Bryce’s body next to his. He probably went to answer it, he thought. Then he felt Bryce’s hand on his balls again, and Ethan moaned. Bryce’s hand was wrapped firmly around Ethan’s cock and was stroking him faster and faster. Ethan heard his own moans, and then felt his warm cum as Bryce brought him to their first climax together. “Oh, Bryce, why did we wait so long?”

***

He had thought about tonight all day, although he had tried not to. He showered again, and dressed in business casual attire. He took a suit jacket just in case he needed it. With the somewhat uncomfortable exchange he and Bryce had had yesterday, Ethan wasn’t sure what Bryce had in mind for after the dinner, if anything. Did he expect me to stay the night? Was he wanting me in his life in a more personal way? Was he wanting me in his bed? Ethan was driving himself crazy with his thoughts about Bryce, which no doubt existed only in his mind. He splashed on some cologne, and thought about taking an overnight bag with him, but then decided against it. Bryce knew that Ethan wouldn’t leave Hawker and Princess alone that long, and Bryce definitely wouldn’t want him to leave Princess alone so soon after her middle of the night trip to the hospital.

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Just You and I, by Shannon Pearce, Beau to Beau books of Male Love

Intro:
Another birthday together, their thirty-second, is bitter-sweet for Justin. This year marks yet another year gone by without Kyle knowing how much he has wanted him over the years, and how much he loves him. They spend so much time together that their friendship is much stronger than most married couples they know, the heterosexual married couples, that is. The two men have shared so much already, political careers, heated debates over the social climate of their time, that perhaps the way things are is enough for Kyle. But it is not enough for Justin. This year is the year, Justin decides, to discover the truth, whatever it may be. At 1Romance ebooks, All Romance ebooks.

Excerpt:
Justin and Kyle had just celebrated their thirty-second birthday together. Born in the same year, they had grown up during the same period of time, though in different cities. Good friends, or at least acquaintances, since their senior year in college, they were what they called “products of their environment, and products of their time.” They were born in the very late sixties, and so had missed the “sexual revolution” that their parents had experienced. In fact, it was during what their parents had termed their “free love” years that Justin and Kyle had been conceived.

Both born to very young parents, Justin and Kyle had formed their own social and political views which were very different from those of their parents. Their parents had been so very liberal minded that the views of Kyle and Justin had inadvertently been formed very similarly, in regard to their outlooks and opinions about politics and the social climate of their time. This was either because of, or perhaps in spite of, having grown up and “come of age” during the 1970s and 1980s. The two of them had witnessed the same events in the history of their country, the good, and the bad. They talked caringly about these things, almost sentimentally, now that they were grown men.

***

“Where you planning to work next year?” Justin had asked Kyle one night when they had finished yet another of their many heated political debates with each other. “Had any offers yet?” Kyle had surprised Justin with his response. “I’m thinking of going to graduate school, Jus.” Justin had wondered if Kyle had wanted to stay in school to be close to him for a few years longer, but would never ask. Justin certainly did not want to leave Kyle yet. Changing his mind about his future suddenly, at exactly that moment, Justin answered, “That sounds like a good idea, Kyle. Sure would give us a much better head start into the political arena. I think it’s a great career move.”

***

“Ready to go, bud?” Kyle asked, when Justin came to pick him up. “Take my stuff, would ya?” “Oh, please,” Justin said, but helped his friend anyway. “Where to?” “Camping, the great outdoors,” Justin answered every year, though they both knew they were not roughing it in the least.

Justin looked forward to these trips just as much as Kyle did, though neither knew how very much the other enjoyed these trips with their best friend. It was during these trips that Justin got the chance to drink Kyle in, but that was all he did. Year after year, Kyle was merely the object of Justin’s desire. This year’s trip was going to be different, however. They were getting older, and Justin was tired of living without Kyle. He wanted Kyle, and he was determined this year to somehow let his friend know exactly how much.

***

If Kyle had known that his friend and political opponent was staring, he didn't say anything or let it be known in any way that he was aware that Justin was watching him, and after awhile he drew one leg up, placing his foot on his knee.

His balls shifted in their loose sac, and rolled forward. “This had to be an invitation of some kind, didn’t it?” Justin wished.

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Brass Knuckles, by B.K. Wright

Intro:
Rick Mason is on a mission, and his mission is the Mafia, the Mafioso, and specifically, the Giaconi Family, one of the most powerful Mafia families to have ever immigrated to the United States. Lucian, the elusive boss of the Giaconi Family, has escaped the authorities for decades. His manipulative means and ruthless ways have allowed him to control any and all he chooses, and the unfortunate souls who dare cross him end up at the bottom of the murky waters of the Muddy Mo; that is, the Mississippi River, and a few have become tasty treats for the hungry alligators that can always be found lurking not far from the city the Giaconi Family calls home; The Big Easy, New Orleans, Louisiana.

When the car of Lucian Giaconi’s son-in-law is pulled from the Mississippi River with no body inside, Rick is determined to find out exactly what happened to the man, and will do whatever it takes to stop the elusive crime boss, “Never Lose Lucian”, once and for all.

Through careful surveillance, Rick discovers that the “weak link” in the Giaconi Family is Lucian’s youngest son, Jeff, who has twice tried and twice failed to leave the family. Rick is determined to get as close to the presumed Underboss as he possibly can.

Rick soon learns that he and Jeff have something in common. They are both gay, and are drawn to each other like moths to a flame. Rick tries to ignore his attraction to Jeff, but wants him too much to not have him.

If Jeff ever discovers that Rick is a federal agent on a mission to bring his family to justice, Rick is certain to be the next tasty treat served to the hungry alligators of the Louisiana Bayou. At All Romance ebooks, 1Romance ebooks, Amazon.

Excerpt:“Shh, keep it down. Don’t make so much noise. You never know who might be out here watching us. You want somebody to hear us? Now, lower it down slowly. How much cement you get in there?” “Plenty.” “There, now push it on down with your foot.”

The two men stood at the edge of the Pauline Street Wharf and watched as the chest made of pure cedar drifted slowly downward into the Mississippi River. “How long you think it’ll take ‘til it’s out in the Gulf?” “About half a day, if it even gets that far.” The two men laughed as they watched the cedar chest disappear from their sight as it was swallowed up by the murky waters of the Mississippi River.

They looked around them. It was just after midnight. They headed back to the warehouse where the Giaconi Cedar Furniture was made. “Lucian will be pleased,” Johnny said. “Yes, yes he will be,” Sammy agreed. Sammy “the snake” Malini and Johnny “JoJo” Galioso had worked for Lucian Giaconi since they were in their teens. They had first worked for the old man, Lucian, Sr., and now they worked for his son, Lucian, Jr. They didn’t think that the son could possibly be more ruthless than the old man, but time had proven them wrong, very wrong.

***

From his rented room on the top floor of the old hotel, agent Rick Mason had watched the two men submerge the cedar chest. Unfortunately, he had not seen what was in it. Damn, he thought. If only I had access to the warehouse, or knew someone who did.

Rick Mason had been working for years to get close to the Giaconi family, and now he had located the city of its elusive boss. It was New Orleans, not Chicago, as he had once thought. Chicago had been a decoy set up very carefully by the owners of Giaconi Pizza. The two families were connected somehow, but Rick didn’t know exactly how, yet. He suspected that this Lucian Giaconi was the head of both; that they were really just one family, and not two, which was originally suspected among the Feds.

Rick Mason had studied the intricacies of organized crime for years, and he knew very well how their cover-ups worked. The idea was to keep as many layers between the head of the family, the boss, and the actual crimes committed as they possibly could. Let the lowest layer do the dirty work, and it kept the focus off of the top. That way, the family’s business was not disturbed, and could continue uninterrupted.

Rick had also watched Jeff as he walked to his car after leaving the warehouse. He had gotten a good look at him and had also gotten an image of him with his digital equipment especially made for night imaging. “Well, that’s a start,” he said aloud.

***

Rick took a cab back to his hotel. He hadn’t realized how hot he had gotten until he walked into the much less crowded air conditioned hotel. He opened the door of his room, and quickly locked it behind him. He looked around like he always did. You never knew who might be watching you, or who could be waiting for you. He turned on the shower and took off his clothes, locking his .22 Magnum in the drawer.

The shower felt good. Rick was not accustomed to the heat and humidity that held this city captive. He tilted his head up and let the water hit his face. He let the water push his hair back, and he closed his eyes as the water continued to hit his face. He was so relaxed now that he thought he could fall asleep standing up in the shower.

Suddenly and without warning, Rick felt his body being held and backed up to the back wall of the shower. His eyes flew open and he started to speak. “Wha…?” “Shh. Don’t talk. Just listen.”

***

Rick’s cell phone rang, and it was Bill. “Excuse me, Jeff. I need to take this. I’ll be in the garage for better reception.” Jeff nodded. Rick went into the garage, closing the door behind him. He sat on the step, and talked to his boss. “Okay, Rick. I went to the casino, and man, things are heating up. Everyone is suspect, and there are members of more than just a couple of the families here. If we can find Jeff before the family does, we can get everybody. I’m going back there, but I’ll be calling you on your cell phone from now on. Can’t take the chance that this place might be bugged.” “Sounds good, Bill. Keep in touch.”

Rick tucked his phone into his pocket and then turned to walk back inside, but was not prepared for what he saw. “Jeff.” “That’s right. You know who I am. Who the fuck are you?” “Jeff, it’s not what you think.” Jeff pushed Rick out of the way, and walked over to the car in the garage. “Thought there wasn’t room in here for your car. Well, this is a two car garage, and there is only one car in here. What gives?”

Rick followed Jeff as he walked to the back of the car. Jeff kicked the license plate that clearly read U.S. Government, making a dent in the middle of the metal. Fear and hatred filled Jeff as he stared at Rick. “You set me up, you bastard. You took advantage of me and my situation.” He lunged at Rick, but Rick moved. Jeff caught himself on the steps. “You bastard, Rick, if that is your real name. Well, I guess you win. Bet your boss had a good laugh when you told him you were fucking the man you were sent to bring back to him. Well, you really got me, didn’t you? You had me right where you wanted me. You had me in your bed.”

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The Year Of Us, by BK Wright

INTRO:Tanner’s life had all been planned for him, and falling in love with his boss was not a part of that plan. Tanner is new to country life, and a stranger to country living. He is not new, however, to love. During his summer in the countryside of upstate New York, Tanner falls in love with the man he has come to work for and learn from. Tanner knows he must leave at the end of the summer and return to medical school, but cannot imagine life now without his boss, Mr. Knight. Tanner must decide for himself if he will follow the predetermined plan for his life, or follow his heart and stay with the man he loves. All Romance ebooks, 1Romance ebooks.

EXCERPT:
As Tanner entered the station, there was only one man waiting. Braden Knight was a tall man who Tanner guessed to be about six feet tall, with dark hair, a slight build, and a very kind face with the bluest eyes he had ever seen. As Braden stood up, Tanner slowly walked toward him. “Hi, Braden Knight,” the nice man said with a kind voice to match his kind face. He reached for Tanner’s hand and Tanner took it in welcome relief. This man seemed genuinely kind, not just as a pretense as he had seen in so many of his fellow students. “Here, let me take your bag,” Braden offered. “Thanks. I’m Tanner, but I’m sure you already know that from the picture I sent.” “I was pretty sure it was you, at least you looked just like the picture you sent.” Braden’s smile lit up his entire face, and immediately put Tanner at ease. “We have about a five mile drive to my clinic, and then about another five miles north of town to the old homestead I call home. It’s been in the family for years.
****
They parted at the top of the staircase, and as Braden walked toward his bedroom he turned around to get one last look at Tanner before he retreated into what he knew would not be restful slumber. As Braden turned around for this last look, Tanner was stripping off his shirt on his way to a much needed sleep. Braden stopped and stared. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at this young man’s perfectly sculpted physique. Even the muscles of his back were in perfect form, and as the door closed behind Tanner, Braden found himself staring at the door to the room that had just swallowed his new friend, and he envision the entirety of Tanner’s body naked in the bed at the end of the hall.
****
Braden was worried now. He waited for approximately ten minutes before going to Tanner’s bedroom. The door was shut, so he politely tapped on the door. A sniffling Tanner said, “yes, come in”, in a seemingly shaky voice. Braden walked in slowly, and went over to sit on the side of the bed beside Tanner. Tanner kept his eyes closed, even as Braden took one of his hands in both of his own. “Something’s not right, Tanner. Can you tell me what it is? You know you can trust me. Whatever you tell me will go no further.” At these sincere and gentle words, Tanner could feel the warmth of his own tears as they began seeping continuously out from underneath his closed eyes. His voice was shaky as he began to speak. “It’s really stupid, Braden. I don’t why it bothered me. I was so touched by your concern and care for your patients, and even though they were animals, you treated them with the utmost respect.” Braden reached for Tanner’s other hand and simply whispered, “yes.”
****
The day dragged on endlessly. Finally, at around 6:00 p.m. the clinic phone rang. Braden was alone, still sitting at his desk finishing the paperwork of the day. His mind was far away, and it didn’t register with him that the phone was ringing until the third ring. He picked it up quickly, and said hello twice. His nerves were frayed, and he couldn’t hide it. At the other end of the line was a very feeble sounding voice which Braden barely recognized as that of Tanner. “Braden, is it okay if I come back?” Dumbfounded by the question and the unbelievable sadness with which it was asked, Braden could barely speak. “Tanner, I have been so worried about you. I’ve been sick with worry not knowing where you were. You absolutely can come back. Baby, I want you with me forever.” His words sounded so sincere that Tanner wanted to believe them. Braden didn’t know what to think or what to say, but felt that he needed to keep talking so that Tanner would not hang up the phone for any reason. “Let me come and get you, Tanner. Just tell me where you are, and I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Tanner couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let Braden see him like this. “How about this, Tanner, get a cab and tell the driver that I will pay him when you get here, please,” Braden said, a little more commandingly. Braden had done so much for him that Tanner hated to do this, but he needed to be somewhere safe. He just wanted to put this entire week out of his mind forever. “Okay,” Tanner heard himself say. “So, you’ll get a cab and tell him exactly how to get here. Do you remember how to get here, Tanner? If you forget, have the taxi driver call me, okay? They all have a phone with them.” Braden had no idea where Tanner was calling from. It certainly wasn’t the cell phone number. “Tanner, I’ll see you soon, then, right?” Tanner was so tired he just wanted to lie down somewhere on the streets of New York and sleep. “I’ll try, I’ll try.”

B.K. Wright
http://www.beautobeau.com

Loving Nate by S. Wales of Beau to Beau Publishing

We have a new author at Beau to Beau. S. Wales writes young adult gay fiction. Cover design by Dvorak Designs, www.dvorakdesigns.com. Book is available to 1Romance ebooks and All Romance ebooks.

Excerpt:
Nate lived in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in Omaha, Nebraska, attended a private school, drove a BMW, and could pretty much have anything he wanted. His father had inherited the family commodities investment firm and his mother spent most of her time in aerobics classes or attending various social activities. Nate had never thought of his life as mundane or meaningless; that is, not until last summer. Last summer had changed Nate forever. As he looked around at his classmates, Nate realized what it was that he had learned during his summer vacation. Nate had learned about the human condition and the human spirit; specifically, the resilience of the human spirit. Nate had also met a friend, a confidante, a boyfriend.
******
Tate showed Nate to his room that they would be sharing and showed him the drawer he had cleared out for him. “Thanks,” Nate said, and set his stuff down. Tate sat on the bed while Nate unpacked. “What’s it like up north?” “It’s not that much different from here, I guess. It’s not as warm and Omaha has lots of hills. We have a river but it’s not as big as the Mississippi.” “What do you do for fun?” Nate sat on the bed with Tate and showed him his Nintendo DS. “I’ve got games to play on this,” he said. “Do you have one?” Tate shook his head. “Do you have a Wii?” Tate shook his head again. “How about the Internet?” “No, but sometimes we use it at school,” Tate explained. Nate showed Tate how to play one of the Nintendo games and before long he was a pro. “For not having one of those, you sure did catch on quick,” Nate said. “Thanks,” he said. “Here’s my Blackberry. You can play games on it, too, and download books from the Internet.” Tate looked confused at Nate’s last remark. “You can buy ebooks and read them on your cell phone, like this one.” He showed Tate some of the books he had on his Blackberry and he quickly began reading one.
******
As they worked together, Nate’s sponsor couldn’t help but notice the budding friendship between two boys from two very different worlds. Nate liked Tate. He could tell him anything without fear of disapproval or that he would tell everyone he knew. Of course, Nate knew no one here, but still, there was something honest and pure about Tate that Nate had not seen before.
******
The two boys walked past five or six houses until they reached the end of the cul-de-sac. It was dark, but the stars lit up the night sky with their brilliance. The two boys sat on the mound of dirt that would soon be Tate’s new home, and looked up at the stars. “I’m really glad you came here this summer, Nate.” Tate reached over and placed his hand on Nate’s as it lay on his thigh. Nate didn’t know what to do but knew that he couldn’t look at Tate right now, so he looked straight ahead. He didn’t withdraw his hand, and he rather liked the feeling of Tate’s hand on his. After what seemed like a lot longer than it was, Nate placed his free hand over Tate’s, and looked at him. “I’m glad too, Tate.” He quickly looked away again, but neither boy withdrew their hand.
******
Nate reached out and placed his hand over Tate’s. “Before this summer, I thought that friends were people you had to impress or have as much stuff as they did in order to be their friends, but I don’t think that’s true anymore.” Tate said nothing for quite awhile, thinking about Nate’s words. “Are you my friend because you have more than me?” Nate sat up and leaned on his elbow, not taking his hand off of Tate’s. “Oh, no, Tate. I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that the guys I know don’t like people who don’t wear designer clothes or who don’t go to a private school or drive fancy cars. They’re just really superficial, that’s all, and they use people to get what they want.” Tate didn’t understand “using people” but was beginning to understand the other stuff. Nate continued. “You weren’t like that, Tate. You were nice to me from the start even though you didn’t know me and didn’t know if I was rich or poor, and your mom hugged me when she first met me. My own mom doesn’t hug me.” Nate lay back down and looked up at the stars. “Your mom likes everybody, Tate. She doesn’t judge others.” “No, she would never do that, Nate. She believes what the bible says about not judging others. She says it’s not our place as mere mortals.” Nate swallowed hard. It seemed that he lived in an entirely different world than Tate, and Tate’s was a loving world, a world that Nate liked a lot. The two boys looked up at the stars for a long time saying nothing, with Nate’s hand on Tate’s. Nate was almost asleep when he felt Tate’s lips on his. It was a quick kiss, and then Tate lay back down. Nate was definitely awake now. “What was that for?” “I’m just glad you came here, that’s all.” “Oh,” said Nate, and they slept until morning, their hands never leaving the others’.

Desire Ordained, by B.K. Wright

INTRO:
“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.” Shakespeare’s words resonated through Curt like never before. In his first role as leading man, Curt quickly discovers that art truly does imitate life. Focused on his own glory, Curt soon realizes that through his acting he gives hope to one who has little. Victimized by organized religion, an institution which boasts as its leaders those who are ordained to satisfy their sexual urges and desires as they choose, Curt’s character quickly becomes real. It is through this leading role that Curt meets the only man who can satisfy his sexual hunger, and who loves with a selflessness that Curt has never known.
EXCERPTS:
Curt knew that he was becoming too involved with his own role, but he couldn’t seem to stop. He had always become a part of the roles that he played which did make him a good actor, but it also had its downside. Sometimes without knowing it Curt would internalize his character and actually believe that he was the character he was playing.
********
They passed many establishments as they walked in the Village. Curt loved it. This was his world. If only he had someone with whom to share it. He would love to be walking hand in hand with a special someone. It had been a long time.
********
Curt walked into a room with a very inviting whirlpool with its shooting jets of water making the water bubble. The room was very well decorated and very clean, with a sign that read, “No clothing allowed.” Curt had no problem with that. The water was warm as Curt lowered himself until he was seated in front of one of the jets. The water felt good on his stiff muscles. The roar of the jets and the bubbling water blocked out any intrusive sounds, and were lulling Curt into a very relaxing state. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the side of the pool. In his dreamlike state, Curt did not hear the door open, nor did he hear the man walk in and join him naked in the pool. The man watched Curt as the buoyancy of the water bobbed his body up and then back down in the water. The man stood in the water, watching and waiting for Curt’s erection to take shape.
********
The whirlpool would feel good tonight. He put the key in the lock and turned the knob. This was a different room with much different décor. He will be here soon, he thought. Curt closed his eyes and thought about the last time. His hands had let go of the side of the pool and his body was floating freely in the water when he felt his legs open wide and those same huge hands wrap around his upper thighs. Taken by surprise once again, Curt reached for the side of the pool to steady himself.
********
He stroked Curt’s smooth hair while he slept soundly. Curt’s arms were straight out in front of him with his head on Daniel’s abdomen. His face was turned toward Daniel. Curt looked peaceful. Daniel wanted his bed to be the place where Curt found greatest peace. Curt had kicked the sheet off of him sometime during the night and his naked form was beautiful as the rays of sun formed a spotlight on the area that formed an inverted V where his legs parted, that special place that he shared so unselfishly. Curt mumbled something and repositioned himself across Daniel so that his butt now formed an arc displaying the treasures hidden beneath.
********
The very first picture that appeared on the screen was that of Curt’s character with a very anguished look on his face. The room quieted as many of the kids saw themselves in the anguished face on the screen. The title of the film, “Desire Ordained”, filled the screen amid flames and crosses. The sound effects were fantastic and only added to the passion contained within the movie.

~B.K. Wright~
http://www.beautobeau.com

Origination by R.E. Blakeslee

This is a 475 word excerpt from Origination by R.E. Blakeslee. You can find more information on Lillibridge Press at GLBT Bookshelf.

Length: Novel | 460 pages | Trade Paperback

Price: $18.95 Print

Cover by Rebecca Price

---

BLURB:

"Confidently we send the Seed with The Betylos encapsulated. He will be reborn on the blue planet and remind the men their women are cunning, lustful creatures. Let them embrace The Philosophy as we have..."

On a rainy night, naïve, eighteen-year-old Eran Aeggle flees his childhood home, stumbling across an extraordinary stone. He picks it up, and with a bright flash of light, he falls unconscious. When Eran wakes he is unable to explain what happened or why he's so fascinated by the peculiar rock. Did it cause the two tattoos of an unknown origin on his shoulders?

Buffalo, New York - 2075

As Eran's need to attend The Alluvium Institute and become a botanist matures, so does his attraction to Simon Duncan, a handsome artist. It seems as if fate has brought them together. However, life is not meant to be an ever-blooming garden... Will Eran nurture their growing love or let it wither from uncertainty? How can Eran accept the destiny aliens set out for him if he doesn't believe? Will he let his turbulent past drag him into darkness?

As wide-eyed citizens of the City of Light live unknowing, a sadomasochistic killer stalks the night. But there is hope - in the moonlight a reluctant hero soars on wings of mysterious illumination. If only Eran could find the courage to realize...

---

EXCERPT:

Panic inundated Eran, washing up into his face. The man he had saved from drowning sat across from him. Eran didn’t know what to do or say. Simon stared into Eran’s eyes and he couldn’t look away, but wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. Suddenly he realized he’d gotten the wish he had made on the top of the Albright Knox Art Gallery. He was gazing into Simon’s eyes and now, more than ever, Eran needed to know what went on behind them. Did Simon recognize Eran? Did he know Eran saved his life? What was Simon thinking? Goddess, what is he thinking?

Simon’s gaze lingered a second longer as if he knew Eran’s dark secret. His heart pounded like the steel the construction men had rammed into the earth. Simon cocked his head and reached across the table with his hand outstretched. “So—what’s up, Eran?”

“Um, not much.” Well, at least it seemed Simon didn’t remember because he said nothing about it, which soothed Eran’s fears. Eran’s heart rate slowed, but didn’t quite calm. He glanced away, wiping his palm, hoping he wasn’t sweating.

Simon looked at his music player. He was more handsome than Eran remembered, perhaps because it had been dark and rainy the other night. He didn’t remember Simon’s lips being so red. In fact, they reminded Eran of the succulent strawberries he had eaten as a child, which had grown wild on the hillside back in Farmington. Did they taste as sweet? And right now, as Simon smiled, his bright, green eyes accented those lips beautifully. His teeth were bright white, like he only ate marshmallows so as not to stain them.

“What are you guys up to?” Eran asked when he dragged his eyes from Simon’s.

“We’re going to Delaware Park—Hoyt Lake. Simon thinks some rescuer pulled him out of the water last night.” She smirked devilishly.

Eran’s heart did a slingshot, and then another. He swallowed hard, his anxiety rising.

“Tee Tee—Come on.” Simon tilted his head sideways, rolling his eyes.

“Says he had fiery, blue wings and skin like a ghost and not to mention, no shirt. I think he hit his head a little too hard,” she sniggered.

Oh, think of something to say…think of something to say. Eran smiled awkwardly. Finally, he said louder than intended, “Well...well, that’s absurd!” He drank another bit of coffee, which had cooled slightly.

“Exactly,” Tee Tee said. “If you’re up for a little mystery we’re going down there and you’re welcome to come. It’ll be an adventure!” Tee Tee’s voice rose again at the R. She glanced at Simon, who rolled his eyes.

“Well, ah… I don’t have anything else to do.” Eran replied in a calmer tone. He wanted to go. Needed to go. He must know what Simon remembered.

First, Do No Harm, by B.K. Wright

INTRO:
In some societies, those held in highest esteem are awarded zero tolerance for failure. What oftentimes goes unnoticed, however, is the same zero tolerance which these esteemed members award themselves. It is through the infallibilities of these members that we are often forced to realize our own imperfections. In “First, Do No Harm”, one such member of society must realize his own imperfections if he is to allow himself the opportunity to experience love in its most imperfect form.

EXCERPT #1:
Kenton Weston had been accepted to the country’s first, and in the opinion of many the very best medical school in the United States. The University of Pennsylvania is a private research university and a prominent member of the Ivy League whose founder was none other than the great Benjamin Franklin, and Kenton had felt very privileged to have been accepted to its medical school and be taught medicine by some of the best in their field. The University of Pennsylvania, or Penn, as it was more familiarly known, was home to a teaching hospital like no other. The Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania (HUP) is huge and its medical system extensive. After a decade of intensive study and practical application, Kenton Weston had been very well prepared to assume his rightful place among the best in his field. Upon completing his residency in surgery, Kenton had been asked by none other than the chief of surgery himself to continue his studies which would culminate in his becoming more than he had ever thought possible. Kenton Weston had become a transplant surgeon. If there was one thing that was missing in the life of Kenton Weston, it was someone special with whom to share his life. He had placed his outside interests on hold for so long that he had almost forgotten what they where. After having lived for over a decade now in Philly, Kenton had seen very little of this city which was so rich in history. Kenton knew that education extended far beyond the classroom and as well beyond the confines of the hospital, and had promised himself that he would take full advantage of this extracurricular education. Thus far, however, he had not. He had yet to visit Independence Hall where the Declaration of Independence was signed, the Liberty Bell, as well as the many other historic sites which claimed Philadelphia as their home such as the homes of Edgar Allan Poe and Betsy Ross. Art museums had long been a favorite of Kenton, and he had allowed himself one day years ago the luxury of discovering the many treasures found in the Philadelphia Museum of Art which features the steps made famous in the movie Rocky. Concerned for his social life or lack thereof, many of Kenton’s former fellow students and now colleagues had offered to “fix him up” with a special woman they knew. What they didn’t know, and what he Kenton had chosen never to divulge to any of them, was that Kenton was gay.

EXCERPT #2:
Michael thought about all that had occurred between him and Kenton. He certainly didn’t want this one to get away. Jeff had given him this blessing, so what was holding him back? The answer to that question was “nothing.” Michael needed to talk to Kenton before he did rounds. He headed up the stairs and into his room.
Kenton broke free from Michael’s hold, and turned to face him. They looked at each other, and then kissed each other, the kiss of longing for that which until now had not been fulfilled. They kissed slowly but not hesitantly. This was a kiss not to be hurried.

EXCERPT #3:
Jeff got out of bed and walked to the door of Kenton’s room. He looked in and noticed that Kenton was sleeping. Kenton was naked, at least from the waist up, which is where the covers stopped. Jeff slowly and quietly walked into Kenton’s room and stood at the foot of the bed. As Jeff watched the rise and fall of Kenton’s chest with his slow steady breathing, he wondered what comprised Kenton’s thoughts. Did he always see the world through the eyes of a physician, or were there times when he thought of life in its simplest and most natural form?
After watching Kenton for awhile, Jeff walked around to the side of the bed opposite from where Kenton was sleeping, and quietly climbed into bed. He pulled the covers up over his naked body and lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as if to give himself courage. Turning onto his side, he moved closer to Kenton until he was close enough to put his arm over him and rest it on Kenton’s chest. Kenton was immediately awakened when he felt Jeff’s hand on his chest. He turned onto his back. “Jeff, are you okay, are you feeling okay?” Jeff’s hand did not leave Kenton’s chest as he said, “I don’t think of you as an old man, Kenton”, and then kissed him on the mouth. Kenton and Jeff remained as they were, each holding the other, feeling the same feelings, though neither thinking the same thoughts. Jeff was feeling so much love for Kenton and thinking about their wonderful future together. Kenton was feeling love for Jeff, but thinking of the harm that could come from this relationship, hurting both of them.

~B.K. Wright~Find me on the GLBT bookshelf, and www.beautobeau.com.

Love's Exotic Odyssey, by B.K. Wright

Intro:

Cultural divisions are proven insignificant where true love abounds. “Love’s Exotic Odyssey” is exemplary of an extraordinary passion and friendship between two persons who unknowingly are searching for the other. Disregarding societal mores, two persons become friends and lovers despite having grown up in two very opposing cultures.

Excerpt:

He turned to ask Braden about his new job, and noticed that Braden was looking directly at him. He was afraid he had missed something that Braden had said and began to apologize. “I’m sorry, Braden, were you saying something? I seemed to have been lost in a daze.” Embarrassed that Kang had obviously caught him staring at him, Braden could feel the heat rising to his face as he said, “uh, no, I was just thinking about tomorrow and what needed to be done at the clinic.” He hated to lie, but was too afraid to tell Kang what he was really thinking, at least right now.

As he reached the top of the staircase, through the door of the room that had been left slightly ajar Braden could see the beauty of Kang’s skin and the perfect physique of his young body as he slowly undressed. Braden didn’t mean to stare but found that his feet would not move. He stood and watched as Kang’s shirt was pulled up over his head, and the color and contours of his back made Braden feel a tightening of his jeans.

They parted at the top of the staircase, and as Braden walked toward his bedroom he turned around to get one last look at Kang before he retreated into what he knew would not be restful slumber. As Braden turned around for this last look, Kang was stripping off his shirt on his way to a much needed sleep. Braden stopped and stared. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at this young man’s perfectly sculpted physique. Even the muscles of his back were in perfect form, and as the door closed behind Kang, Braden found himself staring at the door to the room that had just swallowed his new friend, and he envisioned the entirety of Kang’s body naked in the bed at the end of the hall.

As they neared the Falls, they could feel the coolness of the water as the mist rose up to kiss the atmosphere. They stopped once before arriving at their hotel to get a better view of the magnificence that they would be enjoying from their own suite, though this was Braden’s surprise for Kang. At the lookout area, Braden and Kang sat on one of the benches and were absolutely mesmerized by the view. Kang noted the tourists enjoying a boat tour through the Falls, and was hoping that Braden would choose to do this too. Although this was Braden’s first trip to Niagara Falls as well as Kang’s, Braden was captivated by the wonderment he was seeing in Kang’s eyes. He wanted this vacation to be one that Kang would never forget. He wanted it to be the best week of Kang’s life.

~B.K. Wright~

http://www.beautobeau.com/

On the GLBT bookshelf

Ely's Awakening, by B.K. Wright

Intro:


“Ely’s Awakening” is demonstrative of society’s inability to accept the gay man and the damaging effects which this can produce, but also elucidates the extraordinary resiliency of these persons as they search for and discover a very satisfying life experience despite seemingly insurmountable odds.





Excerpt:
Galveston Island was as beautiful as everyone had said it was, with the quaintness of its main street, each store representing a small part of Americana in its purist form. It seemed that every shop specialized in one and only one salable item and perfected its prize until it was just right, and only then was it available to the people who called Galveston home as well as the many tourists who visited the island city every year.



Quentin watched him lovingly. He really liked Ely, yet was still unsure of Ely’s thoughts and feelings. Ely was a quiet young man, and Quentin wanted to be very careful how he approached him regarding his feelings.



The moon shone down on Ely’s skin illuminating the beauty of its youthful sheen, and Quentin felt his heart skip a beat. Quentin slowly made his way across the middle of the hot tub until he was standing directly in front of Ely. Ely didn’t know why Quentin had done this, but didn’t feel uneasy about it. He felt comfortable with Quentin and also felt that he could trust him. Quentin very subtly took both of Ely’s hands in his and looked into his eyes.




Ely was almost too good to be true, thought Quentin. He was beginning to feel the effects of the wine himself, and wine always made him hornier than any other drink. He motioned for Ely to sit with him on the bed which was also huge. It was perfectly round, which Quentin explained was because that was the shape of the world, and also because it had no end and no beginning just as he hoped his love for someone would be someday, as well as hopefully would be reciprocated.




Ely sat down on the bed next to Quentin. Simply being near Ely made Quentin’s heart beat rapidly. Ely hadn’t had much wine, but not being much of a drinker was feeling its effects nonetheless. Quentin took Ely’s glass and set it and his own on the table next to the bed. He took Ely’s hands in his and kissed him lightly on the lips. He was hoping that Ely wouldn’t pull away, but feared that he would. Ely didn’t pull away.



They fell limp on the bed, and lay on their sides facing each other. No words were spoken. There was no need. They looked at each other with the look of love, and after they had had time to catch their breath, they enjoyed one last kiss. Quentin was the first to speak.



~B.K. Wright~
http://www.beautobeau.com/
Find me on the GLBT bookshelf

Excerpt from AFTER ANNA

After Anna by Theda Black

When Will’s girlfriend dies, Tyler supports him in every way he can, even when Will’s increasingly self-destructive behavior endangers them both on the job. And as Will withdraws further, a desperate Tyler can’t keep his feelings hidden anymore.

But Will doesn’t turn his back on him. In fact, Will might have some feelings of his own he’s kept hidden. The trouble is, Tyler’s kept more than one secret. He knows something about Anna’s death—something that could end their relationship for good.


“Actually, I think I've heard of this before.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really. Copulatia fuckititus, pal. I remember it from college, now you mention it.”

“I'd hate to waste good whiskey, but I'm about to throw it at you.” Tyler stood and followed Will, swaying, still trying to use a napkin to pat at Will's blue shirt. He managed to slop some more on Will from his glass in the process.

Will glared at him. “If you don't mind, I'm trying to pontificate, here.”

“So poontang all you want. I'm trying to wipe the booze off you.”

Will laughed. “Shit. You said that on purpose.” He bent over, holding his stomach, and laughed some more. “Poontang.”

Tyler grinned hugely and gestured at Will's bent-over posture. “You have to take a piss or you getting friendly on me?”

Will laughed again and collapsed on the couch and then, just like that, the laughter was gone because all the fucking in the world, all the drinking and all the jokes weren't going to fix this. It hit him like a bag of sand right between the eyes.

“Will?” Tyler finally asked, a little thickly. Will sat there, head lying at a steep angle, resting it on the back of the couch. His throat moved as he swallowed. “Hey. Hey, Will. Talk to me.”

“I had no idea about Anna. None.”

“She didn't want you to know.” Tyler slouched down beside him.

“There was this whole other part of her that I didn't know. Some detective, huh." Will shook his head in disgust. "Shit, I've been on the streets enough to recognize the signs. I didn't. That bastard fed her all the drugs she wanted and had himself an easy piece of ass for his troubles, didn't he? And I was oblivious, walking around with my head in the goddamn clouds. What an idiot.”

“You weren't an idiot. I never saw her high, either. So you trusted her. Something you do with people you love,” Tyler said with a gentle sarcasm.

“Love is blind, huh? Only if you're a fucking idiot.”

Tyler tapped the back of Will's hand. “Do not do this.”

Will raised his head up and blinked, trying to meet Tyler's eyes. “Do what?”

“Make me stare at you. I'm too drunk to hold my head steady.” Will smiled a little. “C'mon, don't blame yourself. You know better.”

“You have this idea of me, Ty, and I don't know who you're seeing, but it isn't anybody who knows better.”

“The hell with that. I know what I see. It's you who's too busy blaming yourself to see how things are.”

“Oh, really?” Will asked listlessly.

“You don't have any fucking idea how I see you, Will, so shut up.”

“Just where the hell is this coming from?”

“Maybe you're right. Maybe you don't see things sometimes.”

Will raised his voice. “I fucking know I don't, that's what I said. Why the fuck are you on my case?” Tyler didn't reply, his lips set in a tight line.

Will sat back again slowly and shrugged. Forcing his body to relax, he leaned back and dropped his head against the top of the couch again. The sofa creaked and the seat cushion next to him rocked downwards. Will's eyes flew open and Tyler's face hung over his, angry and determined and almost scared. His mouth lowered, touched Will's, soft, then harder, something unleashing from inside him, and he drove Will down into the cushion, pushing his weight into him.

*****

I HEART THE GLBT BOOKSHELF - You Will Too!

I love the GLBT Bookshelf and and you will too. Thanks Mel and all the others who put this great site together where you can find ALL THE BOOKS you love in one spot! Visit the GLBT Bookshelf today here: http://bookworld.editme.com/ketadiablo


I can't wait until The Sin Eater's Prince, my latest gay fiction novel, is released in two weeks by Ravenous Romance and listed on the GLBT Bookshelf. Today, I'm leaving you with a teaser, a taste of the Historical/VAMPIRE novel. This book has it all, sorcery, magick, sin eaters, vampires werewolves and a few witches tossed in too!


Setup: Owen Rhys, the village Sin Eater has just discovered the man he loves is a vampire. To learn more about the undead, he thumbs through the pages of his tad's (father's) history books.


LONG EXCERPT: (Rated R - Gay Fiction)

An innate sense of curiosity drew Owen to the hearth, and specifically to the nearby wooden crate. Shortly after his father passed, he’d relegated the man’s meager possessions and his collection of cherished books to the trunk and hadn’t looked at the contents since. If memory served him, he’d find not only several volumes on Welsh history, but another on legend and lore of Wales.

He removed the lid from the crate and sorted through the books until he found what he searched for, Demons and Other Mystical Creatures of Wales. Thumbing through the pages quickly, he found the chapter entitled Lords of the Underworld: Vampyres.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and scanned the page, his eyes settling on a passage in the middle: The vampyre is the most dreaded and feared creature of the supernatural world. He’s not only obtained immortality, but has the ability to alter his appearance, fly through the night sky, and traverse the ground under the guise of the wolf or a wisp of smoke. After seducing his victims through hypnotic measures or mind control, the vampyre will drain them of their blood thereby bolstering his strength and power. A vampyre might possess beauty beyond one’s imagination or be hideously marked.

Owen’s heart launched into a triple beat and a fine bead of sweat broke out on his forehead. The mouth is thought to be the way the soul leaves the body, and also the way evil spirits are allowed to enter. If one has slain a vampyre in Wales, it is advised the mouth be stuffed with a consecrated object or stitched shut and sprinkled with holy water.

Owen turned the page with an acute sense of trepidation and read his third and final passage: Spiritual vampyres draw the life energy from their victims and at times, their very souls. This species of vampyre does not merely feed on blood but the victim’s essence in order to survive.

He slammed the book shut, tossed it back into the crate and replaced the lid. Then he rose and paced the cottage, the words from the tome tumbling through his head. He didn’t need to read the passages to know Maddock was a vampire; the man had admitted it. What he wouldn’t give to have known Andras before he arrived in Pembrokeshire. Had he always possessed such unearthly beauty or had he accrued it since Traherne turned him?

And what species of long tooth was Traherne? Had he not only fed on Andras’s blood, but sucked the very soul from the man? Andras, soulless? Nay, it could not be. He’d witnessed innumerable acts of compassion from the man while ministering to the sick, watched his eyes flood with empathy when they passed into the other world.

His intestines wound their way into a reef knot. Had Maddock played him false with his words of coveting him from afar and holding a place for him in his heart? Were those the words of a demon possessed of hypnotic capabilities or the words of a man who cared deeply?

The questions festered and churned until Owen knew only one thing: Maddock was a very dark and very beautiful vampire.

He plucked his fiddle from the case and bolted outside, the questions rattling his brain until he could no longer think. Settling into a rocking chair on the stoop, he drew a deep breath and gazed at the cloud-hung peaks of the mountains in the distance.

Hopelessness cloaked him. He had little in the way of earthly possessions—his goats, a roof over his head and his fiddle—tangible objects that could be taken away in the blink of an eye. But the two things he possessed that no one could ever take from him were his good name and his love of the song.

His father’s words from long ago found him, ‘Enw da yw’r trysor gorau’, a good name is the best of treasures. No matter what the villagers thought of him—of all sin eaters—he had his good name and had done nothing to dishonor it.

Plucking the fiddle from his knees, he tucked it under his chin, and with his arm stretched out, rested the beloved cwth on his collarbone. He angled the bow across the strings and strummed out a repertoire of ancient Welsh tunes his father had taught him. He lost track of time, misplaced all melancholy thoughts of vampires, sin eaters and the troubles plaguing him. Whisked away in the poignant, artful blending of tunes reminiscent of his Celtic roots, he didn’t see the dark shape watching him from a cluster of yews several feet away until he placed the fiddle at his feet.

Andras.

He shuddered, as much from his eloquent dark visage as from the memory of his kiss. Despite the passages in the book, and the questions afflicting him, one thing remained clear. He wanted Maddock, ached with the desire to touch him. Suddenly, all he saw was the magnificent features, the hard, powerful body—like a well-oiled apparatus—as he advanced.

Advanced? Duw help him.

The intoxicating musk of the man’s body drifted over him on the cool breeze of evening, and still the man didn’t speak. The implication of his hypnotic gaze stoked the fire raging in his gut.

The words from the book echoed in his ears, after seducing his victim with his hypnotic eyes, the vampyre will drain him of blood, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Andras’s face.

In one swift motion, Andras stood before him, his dark eyes blazing a luminous red. With an unexplainable momentum, he transported them into the cottage and slammed the door behind them.

Pressed up against the wall, his senses dazzled, Owen lifted his eyes and met the silver orbs he’d visited so many times in his dreams. “How did you know I’m gifted at the fiddle?” Gaw, what a dim-witted question to ask while in Maddock’s possessive embrace. Have you lost your senses, Owen?”

The somnolent lilt to Andras’s arrogant voice sent fire racing through his bloodstream. “Did I not tell you I’ve watched you from afar?” Without waiting for him to answer he added. “Does it frighten you to know a vampire has longed to look upon your face whenever possible; would risk everything for one stolen glance to feel the lightning coursing through him that only Duw can call forth?”

Owen melted like candle wax, buried his hands in Andras’s thick hair and pulled him down into the kiss he craved, would die for. He didn’t really want to know the answer anyway; not now. Not when Andras was here in the flesh, allowing him to touch him, stirring something deep inside him he’d only wondered about.

* * *

Watch my blog for more information about the release of THE SIN EATER'S PRINCE:

THE STUFF OF MYTH AND MEN

Excerpt: TLC 101

Just for All Gay Romance Stories, a new excerpt from Janey Chapel's TLC 101:

***

Kip had thought if he could get Greg over the grumps and into self-pity, he’d be more docile. Yeah, well, no. Scratch that. Sorry-For-Himself Greg wasn’t any easier to deal with than Bite-Your-Head-Off Greg, and it wasn’t as easy to be firm with him. Angry Greg could be pushed around, shouted at; Kip could give as good as he got. Pitiful Greg was just sort of...pitiful.

And sexy.

Really, really sexy lying there in the light of Kip’s laptop and the 40-watt on the end table, in a pair of boxer shorts and a bright white cast. He barely fit on Kip’s futon. He’d put the leg with the cast up on a pillow, with a towel under it to keep the pillow from getting cast dust and damp on it. Kip never would have thought to do that.

Kip took a deep breath. It wasn’t Greg’s fault he was irresistible like that. He was sure Greg wasn’t lying that way on purpose, with his legs spread and one hand above his head, propped against the pillows. He looked like he was ready for someone to feed him a grape. He couldn’t be doing it on purpose, could he? Kip got less sure when Greg arched his back.

“Come on, Greg, it’ll be better tomorrow,” Kip told him. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

“Can’t,” he said. “It itches.”

Man. Mules had nothing on him when it came to stubborn.

“Okay, okay, chill,” Kip said, putting his hand up, but catching it before it made contact with Greg’s bare skin. That, he didn’t need. “Let me think.”

Greg scoffed under his breath and wriggled on the bed, setting off a chain reaction of muscular ripples that made it really hard for Kip to concentrate. “I’m not in the mood for any of your motivational bullshit, Rigsbee.”

Kip shrugged. “Do you want to feel better or not?”

Greg grumbled under his breath, but finally muttered, “Yeah.”

“Okay, then. Let’s try some breathing exercises.”

“Can we braid each other’s hair, too?”

“Stop being a dick and pay attention,” Kip said, testing his coaching voice. He didn’t use it much, but sometimes nothing else penetrated thick skulls.

Greg squirmed again on the bed, trying to get comfortable. Kip could see the muscles in his stomach pull when he slid down farther in the bed. The leg without the cast on it just happened to fall against Kip’s hip when he moved. Then Greg’s arm came down, and he just happened to end up with his fingertips riding against Kip’s knee. If he wasn’t doing it on purpose, Kip was going to look really stupid.

If he was doing it on purpose, Kip was going to take some lessons from a master. “Close your eyes.”

Greg looked at him hard for a minute, then closed his eyes.

Without his eyes to pull focus, Kip could see the skin around his mouth was tight, his jaw clenched. He wondered if ‘itch’ was Greg’s word for ‘hurts like a mofo.’ A broken ankle was no picnic. With his eyes closed and his mouth shut, Greg didn’t seem so fierce. He looked beat-up and worn out. Kip decided to ignore the pup-tent under construction in Greg’s boxers for the time being. If Greg could pretend it wasn’t there, so could Kip.

“Take a deep breath,” Kip said, and wonder of wonders, Greg did it without fussing about it. Lots of lung capacity in a chest that size. “Now let it out, slowly.”

Damn, he looked good. The bruises were on the other side of his face, so there was just that clean profile to look at, which Kip felt utterly free to indulge in since Greg’s eyes were closed. “Again.”

Kip watched Greg follow his directions and breathed right along with him. “Deep breath in, now let it out,” Kip said, dropping his voice to a murmur. “Deep breath in, now let it out.” Greg started to relax in minute increments. First his shoulders dropped a little. Then the fingertips at his knee twitched and opened. The pup-tent was almost fully erect, and the lines around his mouth were gone. Part of Kip hoped Greg was falling asleep. Part of him didn’t.

Three guesses for which part, and the first two don’t count.

“Greg?” he whispered.

“Hmmmm?” was all he got.

Kip started to move, but Greg’s hand clamped down on his thigh before he even got his balance shifted.

“Don’t,” Greg mumbled. He tightened his hand, holding Kip to the bed. “More.”

More.

“More breathing?” Kip said.

Greg made a low sound in his throat.

Kip waited for a minute, his heart thumping in his chest.

“Breathe, Greg, come on, nice and deep.” Greg breathed just like Kip told him to, but he was getting restless. His hips had started to move, and he was breathing faster, deeper, without any coaching.

Kip stared down at him for a minute, and then he did it: he reached out.

“Or more of this...”

And Kip put his hand on the center of Greg’s boxer shorts, straight through the placket, right over the heat at the heart of him. Greg flattened himself down on the bed with a groan, his hand flexing hard on Kip’s leg, his hips lifting into Kip’s palm.

“That. More of that,” he bit out.

Under Kip’s hand, Greg felt hot, and so alive it was a wonder he didn’t set off sparks. Kip maneuvered himself on the bed to a more comfortable position. Greg flexed his hand on Kip’s thigh but didn’t stop him. The shift in position gave Kip the added benefit of a little bit more room for his own dick to breathe. Not enough, but better than before. If he’d been doing this for himself, he’d have used his left hand, but right-handed was the option open and so that was the one he took; never let it be said he couldn’t go with the flow. Greg’s free hand twisted in the sheet. Kip no longer had to encourage him to breathe; he was breathing just fine -- hard and fast -- in time to his hips, which were doing all the work, pushing his dick up into Kip’s hand.

Oh, man, was that good. Good for Kip, and, if those noises were anything to go by, damn good for Greg. The endorphin rush: Nature’s painkiller. Hey, it was as good an excuse as any, if an excuse turned out to be needed. Kip always tried to keep an extra in his back pocket, just in case.

***

© 2009 Janey Chapel

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