Posts Tagged With: The Blogger Girls

Hard Earned Cash by K.L. Hiers: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Hard Earned Cash

by K.L. Hiers

Cold was standing by the open door with Jerry, patiently watching them with a small smile.

“Right! Come on!” Jimmy said, grabbing his father’s arm and his bag for him. “I can’t wait for you to meet him!”

David let Jimmy lead him, smiling as he offered to shake Cold’s hand, saying, “Roderick Legrand? I’m David Poe. I understand I have you to thank for my freedom. Thank you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Cold assured him, giving his hand a firm shake. “Anything for Jimmy.”

“That’s what a father likes to hear,” David nodded with approval.

Cold gestured to the limo, asking politely, “Shall we?”

“Please,” David said quickly. “I have no desire to stay here any longer than necessary.”

Jimmy climbed in first, eagerly grabbing a bottle of champagne that had been chilling. David sat down across from him, and Cold took his place back beside him.

Jerry shut the door and got behind the wheel to drive them back home. Cold took the bottle from Jimmy to open it, pouring them each a bubbly glass. 

“Congratulations on your freedom, Mr. Poe,” Cold said, his voice holding a subtle purr as he raised his glass to David’s.

Jimmy shivered at the formal title, but he tried not to think much of it. Cold was talking to his father, after all.

“I will gladly drink to that,” David laughed, clinking his glass with Cold’s and Jimmy’s. He took a long sip, coughing softly and clearing his throat. “Sorry, it’s been a little while since I’ve had anything to drink.”

“Quite all right, Mr. Poe,” Cold assured him, giving Jimmy a sly smile.

Cheeks flushing, Jimmy narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the gangster. He only ever called Jimmy that when they were being intimate.

Very intimate.

Cold winked, looking back at David as he said, “I have a room ready and waiting for you. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, Mr. Poe.”

Oh, that dirty rat was doing it on purpose!

“Please, call me David!” David insisted, tipping his glass back with more success.

Thank God, Jimmy sighed to himself in relief. He didn’t know that his body would behave itself if he heard Cold say ‘Mr. Poe’ one more time.

“Are you sure?” Cold asked, raising a brow. “I’m not usually so informal with people I’ve just met…” He paused, slowly licking his lips as he added huskily, “Mr. Poe.”

Jimmy nearly choked on his champagne.

“Seriously,” David chuckled warmly, “you’re offering me your home, your hospitality, and you’ve made my son a happy man. Call me David.”

“Very well,” Cold relented. “You may call me Roderick.”

“No ‘Boss Cold’?” David laughed.

“No,” Cold replied with a smirk. “Rod is also fine, if you so wish.”

“I can live with Roderick.” David hesitated, a moment of emotion warring on his face as he added breathlessly, “Thank you again. For everything.”

“My pleasure,” Cold said, finishing off his champagne with a rare and genuine smile.

“Are you hungry, Dad?” Jimmy asked, grabbing the bottle of champagne and refilling all of their glasses. “Jerry, the driver, super nice guy, he’s also a fantastic chef! He can make you anything you want.”

“I wouldn’t mind a steak the size of Texas and a cold beer,” David said thoughtfully, smiling brightly at his son, “and a scalding hot shower to wash all this prison funk off.”

“Totally doable.”

They continued to chat all the way back to Cold’s compound, and Jimmy was proud when his father let out an impressed whistle as they drove through the gates up to the mansion.

“Not bad,” David said, nodding in approval.

As they pulled up front, Jimmy saw they had people waiting outside for them. Rowena Legrand, Cold’s younger sister, was there, plus Roger Lorre and Mickey Tamerlane, two of Cold’s top Gentlemen. 

Jimmy worried for a moment that his father would be put off by so many people, especially since neither Tamerlane nor Lorre exactly screamed friendly. He knew he and Tamerlane had met while in prison, but he wasn’t sure if it would be a happy reunion. To his surprise, David was all smiles as they exited the limo.

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Alien Eyes by Storm Caywood: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Alien Eyes

by Storm Caywood

He could hear Esihle’s footfalls as he entered the bedroom. “What to do… what to do?” Oh, he liked to heighten the drama (but then, Adil liked it, too.) He shivered more.

“Eyes closed.”

He obeyed, and was rewarded with a sharp slap to his arse.  Ah. Yes. The smacks continued, bringing heat to the surface of his skin, and the slight beginning of a blissed-out floating feeling to his mind. Yes. Please, yes. Then the hard slap of leather jolted him back to reality, the pain grounding him. Oh, Esihle was pushing him, and he loved this. It hurt. It took him beyond a fun game where Esihle just did what Adil wanted and into Esihle doing what they both needed, and he submitted to it.

He went deep. He soared. And he only came back to himself as the slaps decreased in intensity and frequency. When Esihle stroked his arse he felt the pain freshly and moaned.

“Beautiful,” Esihle said.

“Thank you.” Not for the compliment, not mostly.

“Oh, my darling. I’m not done with you. And you are welcome, to anything.” He began stroking between Adil’s cheeks, running his finger along his rim, pushing against it with his dry finger.  Adil would have taken anything in that moment. It was only a moment’s teasing before Adil felt himself being opened up with fingers and lube. And then Esihle’s cock sliding into him, every ridge known to his body, entering deeper until he was fully seated and the scales of his hips scraped Adil’s sore arse. Oh. He pulled almost all the way out then slammed in again, causing Adil to cry out.

This wasn’t how Yalapha generally fucked. They preferred more writhing and grinding, but oh, he was good at it, and Adil was so full, so whole, and so, so on edge. He’d been practically ready to come when he saw Esihle in the bathtub, and now he was aching for it. He squirmed against the quilt and Esihle pulled his hips up to stop him.

“No.” He slapped Adil’s arse for emphasis. “My way or not at all.”

Adil moaned. “Touch me, please.”

“I am touching you.”

“You fucking well know what I mean.”

Another slap. “Language. You really are being naughty today.  Was the belt not enough? Do you need the cane? Should we act out one of your holos?”

“Argh. Dammit. You know what talking like that does to me. And don’t make fun of my porn.”

“Oh, I’m being quite serious. Would you like that, Adil? Should I move you to the desk and cane you? Six of the best?”

Esihle’s authoritative voice speaking those words was enough to send him over the edge and he came, untouched.

Esihle slid out gently. “Do you feel good?”

“Oh, God, so good. You just… you know what I need.” Adil unfolded himself and stretched, then wrapped his arms around Esihle. So warm, solid, Adil let himself lean into his strength. Esihle stroked his back with soft hands. “I think we should head back to the shower. We’re almost out of free time.”

Adil looked at the clock. “Oh, shit. Well, this was a wonderful way to pass the afternoon.”

“It was. I have to pick up Sehthe in half an hour. Do you want to stay here and rest?”

“No, let’s go together today.”

They showered and dressed quickly. Adil put on his softest pants and loosest trousers but still felt the friction and thrilled. He imagined his afterglow, if harnessed, could solve the city’s energy crisis. As the streetcar neared the Children’s Center, that afterglow changed into something more diffuse, broader. When Sehthe ran out to greet them, he knew what it was.

This was his family, and he was in love.

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Categories: Book Promo, Excerpts, Giveaways, LGBT, Published in 2020 | Tags: , , , | 2 Comments

Secret Admirer by DJ Jamison: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Secret Admirer

by DJ Jamison


When I arrived at Benji’s dorm room, the door was open. Pulse pounding in my throat, I edged inside, not sure how Benji would react to the gift I’d left for him. He stood next to his bed, dressed in skinny jeans and his signature hoodie — black with a white samurai sword applique — a stunned expression on his face.

“Hey,” I said, willing myself to sound casual. “Ready for lunch?”

It wasn’t the real reason I’d come by, of course, but it gave me an excuse to be here so I could see his reaction. I hoped the gift would cheer him up. If it weirded him out, I was going to kick myself. I’d wrestled with the idea ever since Sandra suggested it, not sure I should do it, but … I just really wanted Benji to know someone thought he was great. And he’d never believe it if he heard it from me.

Benji dropped a small, red card onto his bedspread and turned toward me. “Oh, um…”

My gaze slid past him to the card. To the gift basket. I already knew what was inside it. Dozens of Hershey kisses, two bags’ worth that I’d picked up at the grocery store that morning.

It might have been better to ignore it — my anonymous gift — but I couldn’t help myself. I crossed the room, picked up the card, read my own message — written in a cursive that wasn’t my usual style. I couldn’t risk Benji recognizing my handwriting. This was already risky. Crazy. Because I couldn’t give Benji gifts, not like this. I couldn’t be his secret admirer, not really. That wasn’t what we were to each other, and it never would be.

I just wanted to see him smile again.

My heart thumped hard as I read the short message. There it was in black-and-white. Even without my name, it felt like a confession. One I shouldn’t — couldn’t — make.

“Secret admirer, huh?” I said, amazed at how cool and calm I sounded to my own ears.

“It just showed up here,” Benji said. “I don’t know when … I guess while I was in class. Dre forgot to lock up again, so anyone could have walked right in.”

Actually, I’d slipped in when Dre went down the hall for a shower, not sure when I’d get another chance. Everyone was told to lock up regularly, but most people didn’t bother if they weren’t leaving the building. Luckily, Dre didn’t appear to have noticed the little addition to the room when he’d returned. I hadn’t stuck around to see. Dre was cool and all, but I wasn’t trusting anyone with this secret. It was too important.

I tossed the card back to the bed and looked up. Benji had ducked his head, cheeks glowing pink now, smile spreading despite his best efforts.

The sweetness of that bashful smile went straight to my head, and I sucked in a breath to steady myself.

Jostling him playfully, I said, “See? I told you it was numbnuts’ loss.”

Benji’s head snapped up. “You don’t think it was him, do you? Maybe he’s sorry.”

I regretted bringing him up. The last thing I wanted was for Benji to latch onto that theory, only to be crushed once again. “Wouldn’t he sign the card if the gift was an apology?”

Benji let out a disappointed breath. “Yeah, probably. He basically ignored me in class, so…”

I almost wanted to backtrack, agree that maybe that asshat did feel bad for standing up Benji. Fuck knows he should feel bad. Benji was the sweetest guy I’d ever met. Never an unkind or careless word. Talented too. I’d give my left nut for an ounce of his artistic talent.

And cute. That one had knocked me for a loop initially. I hadn’t been prepared for how he would affect me, my best friend’s younger brother, when I agreed to welcome him to campus his first day. Little Benji McKenzie took my breath away. Gone was the rowdy little boy and in his place was a slender, pretty guy who looked like he could be a character in the anime programs he loved to watch: alabaster skin, rich auburn hair, the greenest eyes I’d ever seen.


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Cabin Fever by Roe Horvat: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Cabin Fever

by Roe Horvat

A cry tore me out of my sleep, and I shot up, awake and alert. It had come from Michael’s room. Gun in hand, I stalked through the cabin. I double-checked my phone, just to be sure. There couldn’t have been an intruder, or the security system would have alerted me.

I opened the door to his room. Michael lay on his bed, asleep, naked, completely. The sheets were bunched up around his legs. Brilliant moonlight flooded through the window, illuminating the barbells in his nipples, his hairless groin, his soft cock… Fucking hell.

His body spasmed, and he cried out again, a painful wail that made my hair stand on end. I put the gun on the nightstand and shook his shoulder.

“Michael.” He shuddered and convulsed, his mouth falling open. A nightmare. Well, someone had been trying to kill this boy. No wonder he had nightmares.

His pouty lips looked as if they strained toward me.

“Michael, you’re dreaming. C’mon. Wake up.”

His big green eyes popped open wide.

“Vincent?” he mumbled.

“You were having a nightmare. I heard you yelling.”

“Oh.” He sat up and looked around, confused. “Sorry.”

Then he seemed to wake up more properly. His eyes flickering from me to his naked body. I expected him to reach down to cover himself, but he didn’t. I let go of his shoulder immediately.

Leave, Nowak. Do it. Leave now.

Slowly, Michael turned his head to me and looked into my eyes. He seemed dangerously awake and very well aware of what his nakedness was doing to me. One of his hands slid down his torso, over one glinting barbell, and down to his crotch. He cupped his balls and wetted his lips, his gaze scanning my face with intensity.

Leave, Nowak. Now!

But I got stuck on his mouth again. My mind was empty except for the image of his sensual lips. They glistened with saliva, full, pink, and soft. Erotic. I felt as if he’d sucked me into him, stealing my sense, my self-control.

He moaned softly, and my eyes darted to his groin, where his hand was slowly stroking his now hard cock. Bare, completely hairless, his toned young body writhing in pleasure, torso arching off the bed, hips rolling… he was so beautiful it hurt me in my core. The tattoos on his arms seemed to morph in front of my eyes, swirling in hypnotizing patterns. He lay back down on the bed, never taking his eyes off me, and I couldn’t move. I just couldn’t.

He spread his legs wider, squeezing his shaft, the pink head peeking out, precum gathering at the tip. I wanted to taste it. With his other hand, he pulled on the barbells in his nipples, first one, then the other, and then he pumped his hips up, fucking into his own fist. He came, the cum splattering onto his belly in a fountain-like arch.

I stared at his mouth again, swollen and parted, harsh breaths puffing out.

He lifted one finger, covered with cum, and smeared it over his upper lip, looking at me with wicked, deep-green eyes. The tip of his tongue darted out, and he lapped at the cum, eyes closing, eyelashes fluttering.

“Please, Daddy, will you fuck my mouth?” he whispered.

His question was like a slap to my face.

I turned and ran out of his room as if my ass was on fire.

I closed myself in my bedroom and fell onto the bed, face down. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh, my fucking god.

Immediately, I had both hands in my pajama bottoms, squeezing and stroking, picturing Michael’s mouth on me, those lips wrapped around my girth. I came in less than a minute. Sated, I breathed deeply, holding on to the fantasy for a few seconds longer, Michael’s fingers tracing the line of my back…

Suddenly, a vague feeling of wrongness made me tense. Where did I…?

Fuck, I’d left my gun on the nightstand in his room.

I’d left my fucking gun.

On his nightstand.

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking hell!

It was, no contest, the greatest, stupidest, most amateur mistake of my entire career. I’d forgotten my gun. What was I? Austin Powers? I was an idiot.

Michael fucking Bourgeon.

I waited for a half hour, then went back to his room. He was asleep, wrapped in his blanket like a burrito. I took the fucking gun and left.

I should never have taken this job.

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Lost in the Florist by Riley Long & Marie Cole: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Lost in the Florist

by Riley Long & Marie Cole


During the ten minutes it took Emmett to get the flowers out of the truck, he kept glancing at the front door, expecting the person inside to be watching him and laughing, but there wasn’t anyone. Thank God. Once he freed the gorgeous beast, he walked over the walkway that crossed the front of the cabin and up a steep set of wooden stairs. There was a little patio set on the front porch to his right as he stepped in front of the front door and rang the bell. He held the bouquet in front of him as he waited for the door to swing open. He sighed as he waited. He’d hate to leave the bouquet outside but he was going to have to if no one was home. He turned, setting his back to the front door, and scanned the area. There weren’t any other cars. There wasn’t any noise aside from some birds chirping and the wind blowing through the trees. He glanced up through the tree canopy and snorted. Rain. Right. He glanced away again as the canopy moved and a beam of sun hit him in the eye.

There was a sound of metal behind him and he turned around. It was like one of those moments on daytime TV: all in slow motion. Jax Barrett was standing in the doorway. His floppy “grab-me-while-we-kiss” chestnut hair sliced across his forehead accentuating his thick eyebrows that were balanced by the scruffy five o’clock shadow. His lips … lord, his lips. They just naturally look slightly puckered: kiss-me-lips. Emmett wanted to admire the rest of Jax, but his gaze was locked on Jax’s mesmerizing light sapphire colored eyes that seemed to bore directly into his soul, taking his breath away.

“Emmett,” he said, his cocky grin spreading wider as he reached one arm over his head and held onto the door, like a flirty guy offering himself up. Which was crazy, because this was Jax, and Jax was straight.

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Honorary Blogger Dieter Moitzi: Till Death Do Us Part + Excerpt!


Why Egypt?

by Dieter Moitzi

When the famous movie “Death on the Nile” starring Peter Ustinov, Bette Davis, Maggie Smith, Angela Lansbury, David Niven, and Mia Farrow amongst others, was released, I was six years old (hrm, yep, go on, Wikipedia it, and you’ll know I’m already that old, lol). I didn’t see it back then, of course, but ever since, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched it or read Agatha Christie’s book. Countless times, that’s for sure. I’ll always remember that remarkable scene where Mia Farrow is standing beneath the colossal statues of Ramesses II in Abu Simbel and shouting I don’t recall what, a breeze ruffling her hair, a luminous smile on her face, her voice echoing over the site.

I guess I’ve always dreamed of doing the same. Imagine therefore how excited I was in 2018 when, on a whim, my long-time boyfriend and I decided to book a cabin on ship cruising the Nile. All right, June in Egypt—we knew it would be sizzling hot (it was as a matter of fact). But hey: Karnak, Luxor, the Valley of the Kings, Aswan, the first cataract, Elephantine, hopefully Abu Simbel… I knew I was going to see it all, and then some.

Don’t worry, I won’t relate the whole one-week trip. Suffice it to say we were overwhelmed (the effing Nile, for God’s sake! There before our eyes!), brought loads of tourist crap back home (dust-catchers, you could call them), and took… over 3,000 photos. And don’t get me started on all the wonderful memories that are still in my head.

Strangely enough, though, I hadn’t been thinking of using the setting for a book back then.

But last year, I was sorting through my photo-files, selecting some for my travel site, when all of a sudden, I had a flash-like “That’s it!”-experience. It was odd because I had already started working on the sequel to my first book, “The Stuffed Cabin”, and the plot was already decided in my head. But there it was: the vision of a dead man lying on his bed, a huge knife sticking out of his back. Yes, I’m odd like that. What should I do about that dead man, who didn’t fit in with the book I was already working on? Darn!

In other words, what story could I weave around this little image?

Now, after I’d published “The Stuffed Cabin” in 2018 (that is, the English version was released in 2019), my boyfriend and I had been heavily brainstorming for a couple of weeks as to creating a new M/M series. Together we had already invented two main characters, a young Italian and a young Frenchie, and had devised how we wanted them to be, physically and psychologically. Alas, our first enthusiasm had petered out at one moment, our creation processes being rather incompatible. BF wants structure, planning, method. I work with organized chaos. Always. So, we had temporarily put our project to rest.

But I remembered it when that idea of the body with the knife appeared in my mind. And what with my looking at photos of our trip to Egypt, I told myself, ‘Hm, let’s see… that could be it…’ As always when ideas strike me like that, I sat down immediately and started typing away on my computer. Lo and behold, half an hour later, the first chapter had written itself apparently out of its own accord. Yes, the Frenchie was there; so was the Italian chap. After that initial thrust, the rest was mere fine-tuning. Who’s the victim? Who’s the murderer (something a murder mystery writer should know from the start, otherwise they’re doomed)? What’s the motive? How can I hide it till the end as to better mislead my readers? How can I make the other characters all look suspect? What’s the link? And how can I mix in a bit of romance, because let’s be honest: a cuter-than-thou Frenchie and a hot-as-they-come Italian dude not falling in love with each other would be a shameful waste, right?

Well, in a nutshell, that’s how this book was created. Just for the record: the photos helped a lot to describe the sites. As for the dust-catchers in my flat… they’re still there, catching dust. Oh, and no. I wasn’t allowed to stand next to the huge statues in Abu Simbel. I’m not Mia Farrow, after all.

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Public Enemy, Undercover Lover by Amanda Meuwissen: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Public Enemy, Undercover Lover

by Amanda Meuwissen

“Nothing to pique your interest?” the officer beside him whispered.

That voice was familiar, but when Andrew looked, the officer still had his hat tipped too low to recognize him. “I’ve just been over all this already. I’m Andrew Wen, Detective Wen’s brother.” He extended his hand. “Unless we’ve met before?”

“Oh,” the man grasped Andrew’s hand firmly and tilted his head up just enough to reveal Isaac Ford’s smirking face, “I think we’re well acquainted.”

“Ford?!” Andrew hissed, trying to tug his hand away, but Ford released him slowly, dragging his fingers across Andrew’s palm. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Even with the hat on, the memories of Ford’s prim white-blond hair made Andrew self-consciously run a hand back through his. He wished he could just be annoyed with Ford instead of finding him so attractive. He was tall, thin but well-muscled, with intense blue eyes, and a flawless face, ageless and beautiful like some ethereal elf.

An elf who’d had Andrew’s cock in his mouth…

“Shh.” Ford brought a finger to his lips. “Wouldn’t want to draw any attention.”

They hadn’t seen each other since Christmas, but Andrew had certainly felt Ford’s presence after he turned his freedom into starting a profession copying exactly what Andrew was trying to do! “Give me one good reason not to out you for impersonating an officer.”

“Oh, Andrew, I’ve been out for ages.” Ford grinned.

“What do you want?”

“Same thing you do—to catch our wayward thief so this doesn’t get out of hand and put either of us out of business.”

“How did you even hear about this? They’ve been keeping it out of the press.”

“How did you find out?” Ford turned back to the presentation. “Oh, right. Brother dearest.”

Catching Steven shooting him a glare, Andrew dropped his voice lower. “I’m sure my brother will be interested to know Artifice stopped by.”

“No need for threats. We’re on the same side, and the police are stumped. Five businesses have been hit in the past month, and unless something gives, it’s only going to get worse.”

“For all I know, you’re the thief again, and you just want their list of suspects.”

“Please, that would hardly be fun anymore without you on the force.”

Andrew flushed. He hated how easily Ford did that to him. “Aren’t you busy with the last job you poached from me?”

“The benefits of having more than one field agent means I can take on multiple cases.”

Andrew didn’t want another field agent. He just wanted to do something for himself. He almost hadn’t hired the two people who did work for him, Candace and his friend and tech guru, Kevin Lopez.

“Why did you have to choose security?” he lamented.

“What else would I be good at?”

Turning his head, Andrew thought Ford’s expression seemed oddly serious. “I should cry wolf…”

“No professional courtesy?”

“Fuck you.”

Ford slid his eyes over Andrew slyly. “Again? Would that seal your lips?”

Andrew felt his cheeks darken further. He hadn’t wanted to give in that night at Christmas. He’d never taken Ford’s advances seriously before, but when presented with the option on one of his worst nights in recent memory, and with just the right amount of wine to tip his judgment, he’d taken his anger out on a willing participant—and loved it.

He hated how much he’d loved it.

“You seem tense,” Ford said.

“Can’t imagine why.”

“We’re in the back, Andrew. Alone. In the dark. At a table that can easily conceal any dirty deeds we do. Think anyone would notice if I slipped my hand down your pants?”

Andrew honestly didn’t know how he kept from yelping as Ford’s palm slid across his knee. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Do you want me to be joking?”

“I…” Andrew’s brain took a moment to reboot. “Wait.” He clamped his hand down on Ford’s, already halfway between his thighs in the time he’d taken to respond. “You’re serious?”

Ford licked his lips. “I hadn’t planned a revisit to our Christmas cheer, but this is a rife opportunity. How much longer will your brother be?”

“F-fifteen minutes?”

“Think you’ll last that long?”

Doubtful. Andrew could already feel himself hardening at the thought of what Ford was offering, from the way he looked at him, the low husk of his voice, his fingers digging into Andrew’s thigh, and then sliding further between his legs.

From the memories of rutting on that sofa and wrapping his hand around Ford’s throat.

“Let’s see how long you do last,” Ford purred and reached both hands over to undo Andrew’s pants, letting one slide in to grip him through his boxers.

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He Shoots, He Scores by Tricia Owens: Exclusive Excerpt!

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Exclusive Excerpt from He Shoots, He Scores

by Tricia Owens

If Magnusson continued to stare at him like that, Neil was going to start humping the mattress. Fortunately—kind of—Magnusson pulled his gaze away to stare blankly at the TV again.

“What’s your type, Shannon? What do you like? Tits or ass?”

Danger. This is dangerous. Don’t do it, Neil. Don’t—

“You first.”

“Ass,” Magnusson said immediately. “No question. The rounder the better. I love taking a big handful and burying my face in there, and just—” He looked over at Neil and his face reddened. “You know?”

Neil felt his face burning, too, and his cock throbbed. “Yeah,” he said a bit hoarsely.

He had to look away when he saw Magnusson reach down to adjust the fit of his pants. Neil sympathized, since his own trousers were cutting off the circulation to everywhere but his dick.

“So, ass for you, too?” Magnusson asked, burning him alive with those bright blue eyes of his.

“I-I like them meaty,” Neil said, to avoid admitting that he preferred dick most of all. A big dick and a guy who knew how to fuck him with it. He bet Magnusson had a huge one.

“Lots of cushion? Or more built?”

Neil cleared his throat. “Athletic. I guess.”

“Me, too.” Magnusson’s expression turned dreamy. “Nothing like a good wrestling match before I get my way.” He laughed, almost self-consciously.

Neil was beginning to think he would need to excuse himself soon to jerk one off in the bathroom. The visual of wrestling with Magnusson was something directly from a fantasy.

“So, like your assistant?” Neil asked, even though he didn’t want to hear the answer if the answer wasn’t him. “She was a hockey player, wasn’t she?”

“Darla is incredible. I love her. Not my type, though. I prefer brunettes.”

The air in the room seemed suddenly tense, or maybe it was only Neil having trouble with being drunk and horny and thinking how he filled all of Adrian Magnusson’s requirements except for being the wrong gender. That was a big ‘except.’

He was hard and he wanted to do something about it. He was pretty sure the other winger was, too, judging by how Magnusson kept reaching down to fiddle with his junk. Suggesting that they both whip it out and jerk off together, as though they were in high school, was out of the question. But Neil still wanted to do it. He wanted to ask Magnusson to wrap that huge hand of his around Neil’s cock and show off his stick handling.

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Confessions of a Gay Curmudgeon by Andy V. Ambrose: Exclusive Excerpt!

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Exclusive Excerpt from Confessions of a Gay Curmudgeon

by Andy V. Ambrose

Thursday: Dr. S Is A Sex Maniac

“Oh, Doctor. A blowjob at an orgy! Is that liberation or frustration? And now I’m worried about disease too! How did I let myself… I can’t believe it!” I was blubbering to Dr. S about my little adventure at the sex party the other night. “Doctor, that’s not me,” I continued. “At least I didn’t think it was me before then.”

“Did you like it?”

What was this? Dr. S talking so early in the session?

“Yes, but… I didn’t want to like it. I mean, it happened so suddenly.”

Silence now.

“So, you think I really wanted that blowjob?”

More silence.

“I—I did like it when Gio used to give me blowjobs. He was really good at it.” I blushed. One of the few times I’ve talked about sex in here. Been coming a year, and it’s still not easy for me.

Of course, Dr. S loves it when I talk about sex. Practically creams in his pants, I’m sure. I can tell, because he doesn’t move a muscle when sex comes up. Becomes still, almost afraid to take a breath. Talk about getting his undivided attention. My other woes? Yeah, yeah, he’s the sympathetic therapist, but I’d hear him shifting a leg, coughing, even unwrapping a candy when I talk about the other stuff.

But sex? That’s his thing, baby, big time. Okay, we all need to get our jollies one way or the other. And maybe that’s Dr. S’s. But maybe I’m just not ready to spill all of my guts yet. Or maybe I am, but—But what? I’m scared, aren’t I? Why? Because I let that little runt Bert blow me at the sex party? Big deal. A million guys are probably getting blown this very second and nothing’s happening to them. A million? More like a billion if you include China and India. They have blowjobs there, don’t they?

I do that a lot, think about all these crazy things when I’m lying on Dr. S’s couch. Like today. I was trying to think of how many blowjobs are going on in India and China at any given moment while I’m spilling my emotional guts on the couch. Probably a way of avoiding something deeper.

“What’s on your mind?” Dr. S finally asked, probably impatient with my silence since I was still thinking about those Chinese and Indian blowjobs.


“Really? Nothing?”

Caught again. “Okay, well, I was just thinking how much I miss Gio,” I lied. Well, it wasn’t a total lie. Thinking about blowjobs in China and India got me reminiscing about Gio’s blowjobs again.


“Oh, ah, right. Gio. I—well, I was thinking about sex with Gio.”

There. I said it. And yup, Dr. S tensed up. No breath. No movement. Nothing. All I had to do is say the magic word, S-E-X.

Is that all he cares about? It’s not all about sex, is it? I started talking about Gio’s personality, and smile, and wit, and how warm it felt when he hugged me.

Dr. S shifted in his chair. Ah-hah. He was getting bored already.

“Relationships are complicated, aren’t they?” I said, still trying to move away from the S word. “I mean, Gio and I loved each other. At least I think we did. Of course, what do I know about love? I didn’t come out until late. I was a good Catholic boy, remember? The nuns in the school where I went didn’t talk about love and romance. That should be a requirement in schools, don’t you think, Doctor? Some discussion of love?”

Dr. S was really squirming in his chair now. And coughing. I was just waiting for the candy unwrapping to start.

“So that’s why it was great when Gio used to fuck the shit out of me! Man, his big cock inside me made up for all those Catholic moments!”

If I could only say that. It would wake Dr. S up, wouldn’t it?

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Categories: Book Promo, Excerpts, LGBT, Published in 2020 | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Book Review: Alpha Night by Nalini Singh

Reviewed by Nikyta

Title: Alpha Night
Author: Nalini Singh
Series: Psy-Changeling Trinity #4
Hero/Heroine: Selenka & Ethan
Genre: M/F Urban Fantasy
Length: 368 pages
Publisher: Berkley
Release Date: June 9, 2020
Available at: Amazon
Add it to your shelf: Goodreads

Blurb: Alpha wolf Selenka Durev’s devotion to her pack is equaled only by her anger at anyone who would harm those under her care. That currently includes the empaths who’ve flowed into her city for a symposium that is a security nightmare, a powder keg just waiting for a match.

Ethan Night is an Arrow who isn’t an Arrow. Numb and disengaged from the world, he’s loyal only to himself. Assigned as part of the security force at a world-first symposium, he carries a dark agenda tied to the power-hungry and murderous Consortium. Then violence erupts and Ethan finds himself crashing into the heart and soul of an alpha wolf.

Mating at first sight is a myth, a fairytale. Yet Selenka’s wolf is resolute: Ethan Night, broken Arrow and a man capable of obsessive devotion, is the mate it has chosen. Even if the mating bond is full of static and not quite as it should be. Because Selenka’s new mate has a terrible secret, his mind surging with a power that is a creature of madness and death…
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Categories: 5 Star Ratings, Book Review, M/F, Nikyta's Reviews, Published in 2020 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment