War Torn by J.M. Snyder

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War Torn
by J.M. Snyder

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BLURB:
In a not too distant future, the island of Manhattan has been commandeered by rebels aided by terrorists who have set themselves against the U.S. government. The Brooklyn Bridge, now fallen into disuse, stands as a sort of "no-man's land" between the island and the military that patrol the Hudson River. When the rebels bomb the Bridge, the nation is plunged into what might become a second Civil War.

Captain Jace Rickert is a grounded pilot whose Army lover, Second Lieutenant Tomas Tait, is sent on a routine reconnaissance mission. When Tait disappears and the military can’t stop the impending war to find one missing soldier, Rickert takes matters into his own hands.

EXCERPT:
When I open the door Alden whirls into my house like a dervish. "Are you seeing this?"

One look at his wild eyes and I'm awake. "Seeing what?"

I watch him fumble with the remote, and then the TV's on, a cacophony of noise that fills my house like the dread bubbling within me.

"Al? What's --"

"It started," he says, stopping at the first news channel he finds. A windblown reporter covers one ear and talks into a microphone, his words staccato bursts that explode in my mind. Bombing began last night...

In a daze I walk over to the TV, mesmerized by the images of blood stained men in camouflage and fatigues, stretchers and weapons and my God. Oh, my fucking God.

I wrest the remote from Alden's hands. "Bombing where? Turn it up, Alden, I can't hear it. What did they hit? Turn it up!"

"It is up."

But I still can't hear it, I can't hear anything and all I can see is blood. "It started last night, sometime after midnight, caught our camps off guard. They say almost a hundred dead, a few dozen missing, and that's just the beginning. Jace --"

He starts to flick to another channel and I punch him in the arm, hard. "Stop it! Jesus, just let me hear it, okay? Don't go changing channels just yet. I don't know the whole story --"

"They say --"

"Shut up!" I push in front of him until the TV fills my entire world.

What about Tomas?

I want the reporter to stop talking about the casualties and start naming names, even though I know they don't do that on national television. I want to be there, at the Bridge, amid the blood and the dead and the dying, I want to know ... "Jesus." There's nothing else to say. "Where the fuck is he?"

Behind me Alden answers, "I don't know."

With one hand I wipe my face, surprised when my palm comes away slick with sweat. "Tomas," I whisper, but it's more of a sob and when my deep voice breaks that's it, I can't deal with this. I can't handle not knowing.

Sinking to my knees on the plush carpet, I tell myself the sting in my eyes is more sweat, not tears. I'm not crying because I don't know anything yet, and I'm not going to give in until I know what's happened. Please, I pray. I'm not sure who I'm praying to or what I'm praying for, but I'm not going to stop until I see my boy again. Please.

Alden makes me a strong cup of coffee; even though I can taste the brandy lacing the brew, I drink it down without a word. Together we sit on my couch and watch the TV, changing channels during commercial breaks and learning nothing new, nothing at all. Outside activity has picked up -- we can hear large transports rattle past my quarters, heading for the barracks and the squads ready to join in the fight. Choppers fill the skies, the heavy beating of their blades drowning out the TV when they fly overhead.

On every channel it's the same thing -- different voices but the same images, the same words. American forces were bombed shortly before dawn ... shelling hit the middle of our military camps ... those at the center dead, dying, or wounded and not expected to survive ... the death toll over a hundred now and rising as rubble is cleared away and more bodies found ... For the hundredth time, I ask, "What about Tomas?"

"I don't know," Alden says. "I'm sorry, Jace, I just don't know."

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Hunted by J.M. Snyder

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Hunted by J.M. Snyder

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BLURB:
Once a month, the Hunt begins ...

Hartley and his sister are cervidae, human in form with deer-like features. They're coming home from a late movie and only have a few moments before midnight strikes. When the Hunt starts. Hartley knows he's tempting fate and urges Giselle to run.

Almost silent in the darkness, a pair of felidae ~ half-human, half-lion ~ stalk their prey. The lioness, Leanna, chases after Hartley, closing in for the kill, while her cousin Tau races behind her, eager to catch the buck first.

But something more than bloodlust runs through his veins tonight. He's hungry for Hartley, yes, but Tau desires him for more than just a quick meal. He wants to claim the buck as his own.

Can the shadowed alleys of downtown Richmond hide this forbidden animal attraction?

EXCERPT:
They've reached the end of Ellwood's residential stretch. The buck turns, trying to throw off his predators, and hurries down Nansemond in the direction of Cary Street. Tau and Leanna follow, curving their paths to cut across the street with barely any sound. The wind is loud in Tau's ears, as is the beat of his heart, but he can't hear his own breath and his paws are noiseless over the concrete. Beside him, Leanna moves as quietly as a shadow in the night. The buck glances back, sees them on his tail, and somehow finds a burst of speed that sends him skittering down the street with renewed energy.

As he nears Carytown, overhead lights push back the night and Tau catches his first real glimpse of the buck. His shoes clatter like hooves among loose stones and gravel, and his short antlers look like polished bones in the sudden white light. Seeing him emerge from the darkness makes Tau's bloodlust surge and he leaps ahead, alongside Leanna now, right at the buck's heels. In the glance their prey throws over one shoulder, Tau sees exhaustion and fear etched into that young, handsome face. Soon you'll be mine, he promises silently, a hungry grin pulling at his lips. His whole body aches with anticipation.

Before he reaches Cary Street, the buck changes direction and races for a cluster of brick buildings nestled on the corner. A burger joint, a tea shop, a hair salon, an optician's office. The buildings bump up behind the back of a Scientology center on one side, a bank on the other. The whole little island shares a parking lot with a pharmacy and a grocery store. At this time of the evening, all of the buildings and the parking lot are empty. Where the buck thinks he might be going, Tau can't imagine.

He lets out a little laugh that sounds sinister in the otherwise silent night. He can't help it. They have the buck cornered.

Leanna hurries ahead as the buck slips into a narrow alley separating two of the buildings. Tau is two steps behind her. In the close confines, he smells fear, sweat, and musky cologne. The mingled scent grabs his balls in a fierce grip and refuses to let go. In a low growl, he says, "Leanna, go."

She ignores him, instead advancing on alley's dead end against which the buck trembles. Drawing back her lips as if in a hiss, she breathes in his scent and bares her fangs, the whiskers on her cheeks aquiver in delight. "I was here first."

Anger surges in Tau. He lurches forward, pushing her aside as he roars in displeasure. The sound threatens to tear the night in two, it's so loud in the tight alley. With one large hand on the buck's chest to hold his prey still, Tau whirls on his cousin and shoves her away, toward the alley's mouth and the night beyond. "Mine!" he thunders. "Leave him to me."

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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.

Origination by R.E. Blakeslee

This is a 400 word excerpt from Origination by R.E. Blakeslee. You can find more information on Lillibridge Press at GLBT Bookshelf .

---

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...

---

Prologue

Grant stood at the top of the steps, waiting. He glanced up at the suns, shielding his eyes from their brightness as his robe fluttered in the breeze. He didn’t want to be late. How long should he wait? He shifted his vision and noticed Herald striding up the steps. Finally, he had arrived. Grant hadn’t thought he would show and Herald’s eyes illustrated his apprehension. Yet…here he came. They had bonded when younger, but things played differently now. Herald was, after all, a Believer.

When Herald reached the top step he didn’t say hello. In fact, he said nothing at all. They turned, walking through the Corridors of Mahray.

“Are you going to say anything?” Grant thought as they entered, the door closing behind them.

“What do you want to hear?” Herald asked as they passed through the anteroom leading to the Council Chamber. Large, round windows let in the suns’ light, casting intense beams on the floor that were interrupted by their bodies passing through them again and again.

Grant could think of a lot of things to say, but finally thought, “You support us.”

“I don’t, but I’m here.” Herald stopped, turning to look at him. “Brother, is it not enough?”
Grant smiled at him. It was enough…enough for now. It soothed Sylva, their sister, too. The brothers walked on, but neither of them said another word as they came to the door leading to The Tone. Grant placed his hand on the handle and pulled.

“Wait!” Herald’s loud mental thought unnerved him.

Grant looked at his brother. Lines of frustration ran across Herald’s forehead as if he was older than his age. Grant hated seeing them and knowing they were because of him, but there was no other way. Everything in Grant’s being told him this most importantly. He didn’t know why, but he had always known he would do this: voice his thoughts to the Council of Twelve. Grant believed he could only tread this path. He must see where it led for his wife and for his sister, Sylva. Grant’s mind twisted with doubts…doubts about many things, including the validity of The Philosophy.

Grant couldn’t believe in something hindering his people. Besides, his mind would not let him trust those who were in power. Power distorted The Philosophy and its enforcers’ thoughts, which held a group of people down like the two women who meant most to him. The influence the Council of Twelve wielded kept those less knowledgeable in Darkness…Darkness confused for Light.

---

Copyright 2009 R.E. Blakeslee
From the novel Origination by R.E. Blakeslee, published by Lillibridge Press in paperback

Where There's Smoke

Coming soon from Liquid Silver Books, Where There's Smoke - The Phoenix Prophecy Book 3.

Blurb:
A murderous father. A son with a price on his head. Zander’s year long affair with a mysterious woman ends when she tells him that her abusive mate is the father he’s never known. The woman, a prophesy dreaming immortal known as the Phoenix, explains that Zander has three brothers and that his father has killed their mothers. Now, the Phoenix has dreamed of her mate’s death and Zander’s destiny. Voth is the Phoenix’s successor and Zander’s true mate. The two set out to find Zander’s brothers while eluding the assassins sent after them by Zander’s father. Their physical journey echoes their emotional one as the two learn to care for each other as mates. Passion burns hot between them, sealing their fate, because where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

Excerpt:
The massive truck and trailer rig that threatened to flatten him and Voth didn’t unnerve him half as much as the crackle in his helmet when the radio in Voth’s helmet went dead. Zander stopped his bike in a turnout surrounded by pines on the side road Voth had directed him to. His heart thumped painfully. While he waited for Voth, he thought about everything that had happened in the past few days.

His life had suddenly begun moving in fast forward, it seemed. Meeting Voth and mating him gelled a lot of things in his mind. Since his mother’s death and leaving the Clan, Zander had pondered his future. He just hadn’t come up with any answers. He’d drifted aimlessly, living only for the days that Nix came to see him. He understood now why he’d been so drawn to her. She was the Phoenix, as Voth would be after her. His metaphysical connection to Voth was why Nix had been so important to him.

To his mate, Nix was family, the only mother he’d ever known. To have her be a part of their lives in the future would be no hardship, and Zander didn’t even feel awkward about the fact that he’d been her lover. If it didn’t bother Voth and Nix, it didn’t bother him.

Turning off the bike, he took off his helmet and paced, antsy for Voth to arrive. Four days didn’t seem like a lot of time to have with someone, but since the Vashon believed in love at first sight and predestined mates, Zander didn’t have any difficulty accepting Voth. However, he was stunned at how deeply he’d come to care for his mate in such a short time. Before whispering the words into his helmet, Zander didn’t think he’d said them although he’d thought them. Since sex with Voth tended to end up with his brain in an unfocused haze, he didn’t know if he’d ever spoken them in the heat of passion. But danger had a way of pulling the truth from you, forcing you to acknowledge it.

Boots crunching in the gravel, he paced, senses on high alert, Zander’s eyes scanned the turnout. Pine branches dipped low, giving the small area a cocooned feeling. The mountain highway didn’t seem to get a lot of traffic, and the side road he was on apparently got none. The silence closed in on him. Deep in the forest, the sounds of the animals were muted which made every crunch of his boots excruciatingly loud. His nerves wouldn’t let him relax until he knew for certain that Voth was okay. Worry clenched his jaw tightly, and his muscles bunched. Fear hadn’t crept in yet, but that was only a matter of time.

Fuck!

Zander ran a hand through his tangled hair. Where the hell was he? How long did it take to shift and fly here? Or maybe he’d gotten away from the truck…
The cry of a bird pulled his gaze skyward. The trees were so tall only a small patch of blue was visible. But in that patch floated a brown bird with a long tail. A huge sigh of relief escaped him. He strode over to the bike and ripped off his jacket, reaching into a pocket for his bandanna. He wiped the cold sweat off the back of his neck and gazed at his hands, surprised to see they trembled slightly. The Phoenix had gotten to him. Owned him, cock and balls, flesh and bone, heart and soul, in fact. Owned him so thoroughly that Zander didn’t know what he would have done if Voth hadn’t appeared.

The regal phoenix flew into the turnout and instantly shifted to the naked form of Zander’s mate. Heart thundering, Zander moved swiftly to Voth’s side. He grabbed his mate by the biceps, noting absently that they were so big his fingers couldn’t wrap around them.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a harsh, demanding tone.

Voth smiled angelically, his hands coming up to sink into Zander’s hair. “I’m fine. Better than fine.” He bent and kissed Zander tenderly. “You said you loved me,” he whispered against Zander’s lips.

A groan escaped Zander and relief poured through his body. He gripped Voth’s muscular buttocks. “I do love you,” he admitted. “I don’t know very much about you, but I know who you are in here.” He tapped Voth on the center of his naked chest.

“And I love you.”

Voth’s smile widened to a grin. “I love you too, Zander. The moment I saw you, my heart stopped. Then it started beating like a wild thing. Every cell in my body and every metaphysical bit of my soul came alive when I met you.”

Zander stroked his hands lovingly over Voth’s hard body. Voth tugged at Zander’s clothes. Voth kissed him again, this time with rising passion underscored with the love they both felt.

“Here. Now. I need you now, Zander,” Voth rasped, his fingers seeking his mate’s already hard cock.

“Fuck. We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Zander groaned, but his hips thrust his cock into Voth’s fist.

“Just get naked.”

Voth’s command had Zander breaking from their embrace to stride over to the motorcycle. He shucked out of his clothes, tucking them haphazardly into a saddlebag before shoving his feet back into his boots to protect them from the gravel. When he was naked, Voth’s hands stroked over him, sending his already out-of-control libido soaring. He groaned and Voth’s tongue flicked over his tight nipples. Then Voth crouched on his haunches, his mouth sucking at Zander’s balls, his fist clenched tight around Zander’s thick erection.

His fingers sank into the rich waves of Voth’s hair as his lover licked and sucked and stroked him. Shudders wracked him and lust and love swirled in equal parts through every molecule of his being. Voth’s hot, sucking mouth almost felt better than the heat of his ass, and Zander fought to keep from coming too soon. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to hang on another minute, Voth slid his mouth off Zander’s cock.

“Lube. Where’s the lube, babe?”

Zander blinked, his eyes unfocused and his brain a haze of lust. His need to come subsided a little, but his balls hurt like hell. His entire groin was on fire.

Voth chuckled and stood, sliding his hard body against Zander’s. “Lube?” he repeated.

Zander’s brain had shorted out. Voth rubbing against him just made him that much more delirious. Every inch of his skin was an erogenous zone. “I dunno,” he mumbled, staggering as he turned toward the bike’s saddlebags.

Voth caught him in his arms, hugging him so hard Zander thought he heard his bones pop. “Get on the bike,” he whispered in Zander’s ear and licked the fluted edge. “I’ll get it.”

Bike? Get on the bike? How could either of them fuck or be fucked on the damn bike, he thought hazily, his ear tingling from Voth’s wet caresses.

He threw one shaky leg over the bike, settling onto the wide leather seat and grabbing the handlebars for balance. He leaned forward, lying on the gas tank, the cool metal soothing his passion-fired skin. The heat of Voth’s body settled behind him and warm, damp lips trailed down his spine.

“Lift up.” Voth’s soft words accompanied his hands, pulling Zander’s hips higher.

With booted feet braced on the gravel, Zander locked his knees, pushing his ass into the air. Voth’s lubed fingers traced his crease, and Zander moaned, his breath leaving fog on the enameled metal tank. A little bubble of amusement penetrated his sex-fogged brain as he realized Voth was about to fuck him on his own motorcycle. The thought amused him and sent his arousal rocketing through the roof at the same time.