Momentos: Excerpt #2

July 17, 2011

This is a scene from Chapter 2. Mick and Paul are getting acquainted after meeting for the first time that morning. They’re in Paul’s bedroom. Mick is the speaker and he’s interviewing Paul for the school paper.

“Let’s change the subject,” I said, feeling sorry for him suddenly. I threw myself on Paul’s bed and crossed my arms underneath my head. “Are you a virgin?”

Paul’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline when he looked at me in shock. “It’s really none of your business.”

“I suppose not, but I’m being nosy again. I’m a technical virgin, if you want to know.”

“What the hell is that?”

I sat up, hugging the pillow to my chest. “I’ve done everything but fuck.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t found the right person.”

“I’m sure there must be a hundred cheerleaders waiting in line.”

“Who’s talking about girls?”

“What?”

“I’m gay,” I said easily. “Is that a problem?” Now would be the time to freak and throw me out.

“Why are you telling me?”

Although his voice was steady, Paul’s fair skin lent itself to blushing, and right now his cheeks were blood red. “Don’t sweat it,” I said, trying to put him at ease. He looked like he was about to faint. “I thought I should get the disclosure out of the way.”

“Okay,” Paul exhaled. “Is there something about me that gave you the wrong impression?”

Someone knocked on the door, rescuing me. I was never happier to see anyone in my life. I realized, way too late, that I should have kept my mouth shut. I’d made a friend in a brand new school and didn’t want to blow it before it even got off the ground. Paul seemed like a nice guy, and if he wasn’t into me, that was cool. I wouldn’t mind having him as a buddy.

The pizza smelled heavenly and I lunged, almost knocking it off the tray that the butler balanced precariously. I swiped a piece, grabbed a paper napkin, and took a huge bite. “Damn, that’s good,” I garbled through a mouthful of steaming hot, cheesy crust. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Baxter replied stiffly. He probably wasn’t used to such enthusiasm over food. Part of it was my nerves. I was sure Paul would ask me to leave any minute now.

“Is there anything else you need, Paul?”

“No, we’re good.”

“Very well.”

“Why does he call you, Paul?” I asked, as soon as the door closed. “Shouldn’t he be saying your highness or some other crap, seeing as how he’s your butler?”

“Baxter’s been around since I was six years old. He’s practically my mother.”

“Mine’s much prettier,” I joked, “but he seems like a nice guy.”

“He is a nice guy. Way cooler than my dad and always there for me.”

“Then you’re lucky,” I said, wiping the grease off my hands and mouth. “Now, answer my question.”

“What question?” Paul evaded.

“Are you a virgin?”

“I …guess I am,” he stuttered.

“You guess?”

“I am.”

“How come?”

“What?”

“How come you haven’t slept with anyone yet? You’ve got it all, dude, the looks, the car, the money. I would think they’d be tripping all over themselves to climb into your bed.”

“I haven’t found the right person either.”

“Do you date?”

“Of course I date!” Paul huffed indignantly.

“What’s her name?”

“Who?”

“Earth to Paul…you sure are spacey.”

“Jesus, Mick. This was supposed to be a relaxed interview, not a fucking cross-examination. What are you, a cop?”

I busted out laughing. “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Now what are you talking about?” Paul asked.

“My dad’s a detective.”

“I thought he was a big pothead?”

“He was. Now he’s a cop who smokes pot recreationally like other men drink. He’s not a junkie, Paul.”

“We should be grateful,” Paul deadpanned.

“Are you always this serious?”

“No…but I’m not hyper like you.”

“Spontaneous is the word I like to use.”

“Whatever, man. I think I’ll have a slice of pizza before you demolish the entire thing,” Paul said, reaching for his share of the rapidly diminishing pie. His arm brushed against my chest and he pulled it back instantly. “Sorry about that.”

I looked into his eyes and could see the panic. Whatever was going on in his head was starting to show through his increasing sarcasm but I was determined to set him at ease. “Don’t worry, Paul, I’m not going to seduce you. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m a sex maniac. I can control my urges. And yeah, you’re hot and all, but I would never force you to do anything that goes against your nature.”

“Why are you so defensive?” Paul asked, and then blushed even more as he realized what I’d said. “I’m hot?”

“Yeah, you are,” I said softly, “but that’s neither here nor there. I’m tired of guys who feel like they have to wear a chastity belt around me when I announce I’m gay. If I were straight, you wouldn’t have thought twice about brushing up against my chest.”

“I’m sorry,” Paul apologized.

“Don’t you know anyone who’s gay?”

“No.”

“I can guarantee you I’m not the only one in our high school who’s into guys. The others just aren’t honest about it.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Paul asked, using the word tentatively.

“I’m working on it,” I smiled. “Are you offering?”

Paul shook his head vehemently.

“Too bad,” I said. “There’s something about you that I find very attractive.”

“Do you think I’m gay?”

“Are you?” I stood, stepping over the makeshift picnic on the floor, and walked toward Paul who’d also stood up but was backing away from me.

“Don’t come closer,” he warned.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Paul.”

“Am I radiating some kind of signal?”

“Should you be?” I was encouraged that Paul was talking, instead of pushing me away angrily. If he were straight, he would have hit me by now or thrown me out. I got closer, licking my lips and practically devouring him with my intense gaze. “Have you ever had fantasies about men?” I asked gently. “You can tell me, Paul.”

Paul stepped back and gasped when he hit the wall. His eyes rounded in surprise, and his cheeks were no longer red; they were pale and beads of sweat dotted his upper lip. I was sure he was going to faint, so I reached out and touched his arm lightly. “Forget about my question. It was out of line.”

“No,” Paul shook his head and took a huge breath. “The truth is,” he confessed, “I’ve had…thoughts.”

“Man on man thoughts?” I knew it!

“Stay away,” Paul begged, pushing lightly against my chest.

“Do I scare you?” I lowered my voice but never moved from my spot. I was close enough to smell his fear and see the veins pulsing at his temple as he clenched his jaw. I could have kissed him easily but I knew he’d bolt.

“A little,” Paul whispered.

“Is it me, or is it the entire concept of being gay that’s freaking you out?”

“Both,” Paul admitted, “I’ve never acted on my feelings.”

“There’s always a first time.”

“Wait,” Paul said as my face dipped toward his. He didn’t push me away though, he closed his eyes instead

Momentos: Mick’s Journey-Excerpt #1

July 17, 2011

Scene-Mick is watching Tono play Jai alai for the first time. It’s also the night of their first official date.

I sat in the midst of a crowd of screaming fans as I watched Tono destroy his opponent. Jai alai, also known as pelota, was a version of handball, except, instead of a hand, or a racket, a basket of sorts was used to catch the fast moving ball. The banana-shaped mitt was tied to each player’s wrist with pieces of leather, and the ball made a loud thwacking noise when it landed in the wicker, clear evidence of the strength of the throw, and the rigid skins that made up the small white ball. The pelotari then flung the ball across an enormous space so that it hit a wall, only to bounce back forcefully, so the next player could catch it without dropping it first. The goal was to keep up with the fast exchange. The first man who dropped or missed the ball was out and replaced by another challenger. Last man standing was the winner. So far, Tono had won three games, which was huge according to the enthusiastic fan sitting next to me. He extolled the virtues of Tono Garat, advising me to bet on the player―a sure win, he guaranteed.

My only desire at that moment was betting on whether or not I’d get Tono in the sack by the end of the night. I was fascinated by the man, not so much the sport. Physically, he couldn’t be anymore perfect. His upper body was massive, and his torso tapered into a slim waist that showcased his succulent bottom, which I couldn’t help but notice. Tono’s legs were long and well shaped, covered in white trousers that stuck to the sweaty, corded muscles. I had spent half the night tossing and fantasizing about the Spaniard, imagining myself being fucked into oblivion. I kept envisioning Tono’s engorged cock, which I’d had a chance to see briefly when we’d stood naked underneath the stars. I hadn’t lusted this way in years. Tono was ringing ever damn bell in my body and the need to be possessed was intense.

I waited outside the fronton after the games were over, and Tono joined me, carrying a small athletic bag that probably contained his dirty uniform in a wadded up ball.

“My car is this way,” he gestured, heading toward a parking lot.

I followed, enjoying the view of Tono’s ass as he moved gracefully ahead of me. When we got to a blue Volvo, Tono stopped and pulled the door open, throwing his bag in the back seat. He waited until I strapped in, and we proceeded, driving across San Sebastian toward the town of Igueldo, located on top of the mountain that bore the same name. It towered over La Concha Bay, offering a spectacular view Tono wanted to share. There was a restaurant named Akelarre, which boasted the finest chef in town, an honest assessment according to all the rating guides; that, along with the view, was worth the drive.

San Sebastian - Donostia Pictures
This photo of San Sebastian – Donostia is courtesy of TripAdvisor

We shared a bottle of red wine and an assortment of delectable appetizers before enjoying the main dish. Tono had ordered bacalao, the salted cod dish that was typical of the region, simply because I’d never tried it before. He wanted to introduce me to new experiences, starting with the food.

“Did you enjoy the Jai alai?” Tono asked, captivating me with his warm brown eyes.

“I enjoyed watching you,” I replied, staring at him over the rim of my wine glass.

“You are very direct, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?”

“How long do you plan to be in the area, and why would you want to start something we can’t possibly finish?”

“You obviously don’t live in the moment.”

“I want more,” Tono stated.

“Tono.” I was stunned by his statement. I had no intention of jumping into another relationship, fresh on the ruins of my breakup with Paul. I was still reeling from that betrayal, and I wasn’t ready to start something new. Yet, there was something about this man that compelled me to take a chance. I decided to come clean. “I’m getting over a very difficult breakup.”

“Who was he?”

“My life.”

Tono frowned. “Did he cheat on you?”

I shook my head. “That was the least of it. He accused me of a terrible thing, which wasn’t true. I loved him, and he turned on me suddenly. I’m still recovering.”

“How long were you with him?”

“Twelve years.”

Tono whistled. “So, you’re shutting the door to potential happiness?”

I looked around quickly to see if anyone was observing us, and when I realized that we were relatively obscured by the wooden screen around our booth, I reached across the table and held Tono’s hand. “You’re the first man who’s interested me enough to crack that door open.”

“I promise you won’t regret it,” Tono said. He squeezed my hand gently and let it go. “Shall we eat?”

“Can we hurry?” I said, unbelievably moved by the entire exchange.

“I’ve booked two adjoining rooms upstairs.”

“You didn’t.”

Tono’s smile was filled with mischief. “I ain’t as dumb as I sound.”

The Male Room by Carolyn LeVine Topol – excerpt NC-17

June 22, 2011

Here’s the final post for today.  I’m so glad many people have found their way to the party.  I will keep the contest open until tomorrow evening when I’m finished with work.  At that time I’ll check all the answers and draw a winner from those who got all the answers correct.

As promised here’s a special excerpt, appearing for the first time.  There’s much more excitement in the novella.  I hope all of you will enjoy reading it!

Chapter 4

Craig leaned against a wall in the back room of the Music Box. The cement was cool, a sharp contrast to the heat building within. Touch. All he wanted was touch and satisfaction. Not much to ask after getting the shaft from his dead-end job.

Brunet Boy ogled Craig, standing on his toes to reach up for a devouring kiss. It was hungry and heartless, just right.

“I’m—”

“No.” Craig gripped the guy by the nape of his neck crashing their lips together once more. He wanted no introductions. There were more important matters at hand. His cock wanted, and needed attention right now. Nothing more.

Squeezing and pressing his fingers gently on the kid’s shoulder was all it took. The dark-haired wonder with the now-swollen lips was down on his knees in a split second, deftly opening the button and zipper on Craig’s jeans with one hand. Good, someone who’s done this before.

As soon as he felt the air against his cock, Craig smiled. This was what he was after. “Let’s get down to business and make good use of our time.”

The twink looked up, grinning as he tenderly started to massage Craig’s balls.

“Ahh. Don’t make me wait.” Tonight was all about getting down and dirty.

When the kid’s tongue drew a trail from the base of his lengthening cock to the moist tip, Craig’s head fell back. The plan for the night was working out fine. Satisfaction guaranteed with minimum effort on his part.

It was just right until he heard a familiar voice a few feet away.

“I don’t see you around here much. Glad I’ll get to have a piece of you. Seems like my lucky night.”

Sam. He always attracted the hottest ass on the dance floor. Craig couldn’t figure out what they saw in him. He huffed. They saw the broadest shoulders, matched with the biggest bulge around.

Craig knew the tricks all loved his own long dick, but when they wanted to scream in ecstasy there was no question who the prize would be. Sam was hung, and when he was hard, his cock was so long and thick it sent chills through every bottom in the city. If Sam hadn’t picked the law as his chosen profession, he would have been a very successful porn star. Craig had never watched a video that could hold a candle to Sam’s well-endowed dick coupled with the sounds he made when he shot.

“Keep going, kid. Feels great.” Trying to stay focused on the business at hand, Craig ran his fingers through the boy’s hair, resting there, threaded between the locks to keep him going. “Don’t make me wait.” He loved seeing someone worshipping his erect cock. There was a charge he only got when he knew they were his, and only his, for the moment.

Looking down, Craig watched the kid smile around his erect member. He was doing amazing things with his tongue, circling it slowly around the head. The velvet texture adding just the right pressure. It was wet and seductive at the same time. “Fuck!” The twink clearly had practice.

Although he tried to block him out, Craig couldn’t help but hear the unmistakable sounds of Sam’s pleasure. He was definitely enjoying himself too. “Yeah, baby. Move those hands. Shit! I may come before you even get me in your mouth.” Heavy breathing. “Oh hell! Where are you putting those long fingers? Not there. Ahhh! Damn, so fucking hot.”

It was hard to believe the same mouth had such a reputation for eloquence. He had earned the privilege of representing some of the biggest companies in the Greater Boston area. Contracts Sam had crafted were hailed in the news as brilliant. His clients were always in the best of hands. If only they knew.

Craig looked across the room, hoping to get a look at the hot trick ministering to the big cock of the walk. Maybe he’d go for him next time.

“What the hell?” Craig whispered, moving enough that his trick had to steady his hands on his hips to hold him in place as he began to suck.

If the trick hadn’t had his lips wrapped around him, Craig was sure he would have gone soft in less than five seconds. What the hell was Jeff doing in the back room? He hardly ever played this game, and certainly not so soon after breaking up with a lover.

Jeff was supposed to be on the dance floor letting off steam by moving to the music, not sucking on the hottest cock in the state.

“Hey!”

Craig looked down. Brunet Boy’s brow was furrowed as he looked up.

“I don’t know about you, but I want to get off.”

Demanding bottoms. Craig was angry. He wasn’t even sure why. It was obvious, watching Jeff devour Sam’s length that he was there willingly and enthusiastically. Damn! What a way to screw up a night.

Closing his eyes and resting his head against the cold cement for a moment, Craig refocused. “Don’t stop now.” He looked down at the eager brunet, cupping his hand behind the twink’s head to press him closer. “Let’s see how fast you can get me hard again, and then you’ll get exactly what you want.”

“Oh yeah!” Looking up, eyes wide, the trick dove in.

Craig let his eyelids close again, losing himself in the wet heat. “Good, good. Like that. Fuck! You’re a hot little sucker.”

He wanted more. Craig wanted it hotter. He didn’t know why, but Craig needed to make this kid scream.

Knotting his fingers in the dark hair he jerked the boy up to a standing position, turning him quickly in place, pushing him face-first up against the wall. “Hold on tight, it’s going to be one fucking hell of a ride.” Craig hissed in the trick’s ear, smirking when the twink shivered.

The kid quickly lowered his pants and braced himself against the wall, his head resting against his arms. He wanted it rough and Craig was more than happy to oblige.

Making fast work of rolling on the condom, Craig covered the latex in lube and then rammed two moistened fingers in the waiting hole.

“Oh God!”

“Just wait. This is only the beginning.” Craig risked glancing over toward Sam one more time. The man’s face displayed pure ecstasy as Jeff’s mouth was all over his oversized balls.

After working his trick, he pulled his fingers out as fast as he’d entered.

“Fuck!”

“Don’t worry, here I come.” Craig thrust inside the pulsing entrance. He knew he was being rougher than usual, but this was what he needed. The trick was a vessel with great sound effects. The perfect solution to whatever was making him so pissed off.

“Oh shit!” The kid started clawing the wall as Craig thrust in and out, fast and furious. Setting a much faster pace than Craig had thought he would, using the twink’s ass to vent his baffling, inexplicable anger.

Wanting the biggest and best reaction possible, Craig made sure to hit the guy’s prostate over and over, moving his hips as his cock grazed over the sensitive area.

Without Craig even having to touch the twink’s cock, the kid exploded against the wall. “Oh my God!”

He got his scream, and the attention of everyone else in the backroom. With his audience fully focused on him, Craig let himself go. Pressing in and out through the trick’s tightness he came hard and silent, his eyes tightly shut and envisioning the kid in front of him with red hair. Where the fuck did that come from?

Near him he heard a loud, deep moan. “Oh baby, you’re the hottest thing to ever get down in front of me. I may have to return the favor.”

The murmur in the backroom would have been comical had it not been so hot. Sam never offered to blow anyone, but now, here he was, on his knees sucking Jeff like a goddamn Hoover.

Craig stood frozen, his pants still halfway down, watching Jeff’s dick slip in and out of Sam’s mouth. He was being eaten alive and reveling in every minute of it, if the sounds he was making were an accurate indication. It had been a long time since Craig had witnessed Jeff in action. His friend had been keeping his sex life behind closed doors for a while, but this was one amazing coming-out performance.

Jeff writhed against the wall, hands at his sides, grappling at the cold cinderblock for purchase. Craig was mesmerized by Jeff whose head was moving from side to side, eyes tightly closed, sweat building, his normally gently wavy red hair plastered to his head.

His friend was not supposed to like this kind of thing. Why was he back here? Was Sam really all that great?

“Sam, Sam, oh, Sam.”

Jeff didn’t know this guy or his reputation. Did they actually exchange names before fucking?

Craig’s jaw clenched. Jeff let his head fall back as his body jerked. “Oh God!”

Sam held him in place, drinking in every drop until the now limp dick slipped from his lips. He stood up and pressed his lips to Jeff’s. “Anytime, babe.” He pulled something out of his pocket. At first Craig wondered why Sam would give his friend a condom until he saw a business card changing hands. “Call me whenever. You’re definitely worth a second visit. Maybe next time you’ll let me fill you up.”

Jeff’s labored breathing continued. He said nothing, but accepted the card and nodded, glancing after Sam as the hunky top zipped his pants and left for the bar and dance floor.

Walking up to Jeff, his trick gone and forgotten, Craig whispered in his friend’s ear. “I’m going home. Are you coming with me, or spending the night sucking every cock in Boston?” He continued to walk, unwilling to look directly at Jeff, knowing his words were far harsher than they should be. Losing his job must have put him in a fouler mood than he’d realized.

Excerpt: Luki and Sonny——Hot and Sweet and Sexy (MATURE content—this post only. If you’re under 18 skip this and scroll down!)

June 20, 2011

Leaning back on the low balcony wall Luki gazed through the glass. Inside, an electric fireplace threw orange light and blue shadows over the room, casting Sonny’s shoulders in bronze. Luki found himself imagining the rest of Sonny’s bare skin glorified in that light. He went back inside and stood at the foot of the bed, couldn’t help it, stared at Sonny’s sleeping form, chewing his lip.

“What are you looking at?” Sonny asked, apparently not sleeping and always the jester. Luki almost laughed. Sonny seemed to be trying to find some moisture in his drug-dried mouth, so he took him a glass of water. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he watched him swallow.

Sonny managed to deposit the water glass on the night table without a major spill, then met Luki’s eyes again, more serious this time. “What are you thinking about?”

Luki waited, feeling his breath go scarce, his heart insisting on heating his blood. “You,” he said. After his treatment of Sonny that morning, speaking his mind now felt like a frightening plunge. “I’m thinking about putting my mouth all over you.”

Sonny returned his gaze. Faint, sober smile. No jokes, no words.

Luki leaned over and kissed his mouth, sweet and soft. “Yes?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Luki started with another kiss, sucking honey from Sonny’s lips. He visited tender, fleshy earlobes, dusted the lightest of kisses over fluttering eyelids. He feathered his lips and tongue over the line of Sonny’s jaw and down to the dip at the base of his throat. Sonny moved as if to participate. Luki held him back, gently pushed him down. With tongue and teeth and lips he paid tribute to every beautiful curve and hollow and rise of Sonny’s body he could reach without causing his wound to hurt. He kissed the hollows behind his collarbone, gently nipped taut nipples, poked his tongue into the dip of his navel. Then, the miraculous valley inside each hip—there he started at the fold of Sonny’s thigh and blazed a trail of kisses to the place that made Sonny dig his hands into Luki’s hair.

Once more, on the other side.

Sonny shifted again as if to participate, but Luki took hold of his hands and paused to meet his eyes. “No,” he said. “Be still.” Sonny’s belly clenched and he gasped, as if he thought the words, all by themselves, were sex play. His prick had hardened to the point that the tight skin pulled it almost flat against his belly. Luki ignored it, except to run his tongue beneath to collect the pool of pre-cum that had gathered there, brushing across the head of Sonny’s penis in the process. Downward again, inside the thighs, behind the knees, the sensitive toes and arches. Slowly, then up again, until he came once more to the center of Sonny’s excitement, pleasure, and despair, and began to address the heat arising there. He spread Sonny’s legs, burrowed his hands beneath his ass to hold him still.

Sonny grabbed at his hair again, said, “Luki, please.”

“No,” Luki said. “Wait.” Thick, wet lips, the flat of his tongue, a long, light kiss. He teased at the small, diamond-shaped tenderness just behind the head of Sonny’s penis, circled the smooth coronal ridge with his tongue, closed his mouth over the taut, curved head. Pleasuring. Or perhaps, judging from Sonny’s struggling breath, torturing.

“God, Luki, please,” he panted.

“Wait,” Luki said. He stroked the length of Sonny’s cock, squeezing, and with thumbs gathered the lubricant that emerged. Again cupping Sonny’s ass in his strong hands, he used the now slick thumbs to massage the sensitive rim of Sonny’s anus, sucking at his firm testes before moving his mouth once again to his erection. Sonny felt good to him, tasted sweet. Luki rejoiced in every touch he applied to Sonny’s gorgeous skin. But what drove him on his quest was a deep, unfamiliar desire to please at all costs. Luki applied all his experience and skill, relentless, merciless, demanding, but slow and sweet. Sonny’s breathing became ragged and his grip on Luki’s hair turned desperate, insistent, almost violent.

Luki dropped his mouth over Sonny’s shaft, opening his throat, and then sucked upward, slow and hard, at the same time pushing his two thumbs just inside, just past the pliant opening.

To Luki’s overwhelming pleasure, Sonny responded just as intended. He moaned long and low, almost silent, and the first hard pulse of orgasm shook him, splashing semen against Luki’s swollen lips.

After a while Sonny’s breathing calmed. Luki flared his nostrils to draw in the smell of Sonny’s sex, like saving it up.

Loving Luki Vasquez—release party!

June 20, 2011

Loving Luki Vasquez Cover

Hi everybody and welcome to the party!

My name is Lou Sylvre, and Loving Luki Vasquez is my first book with Dreamspinner Press. It’s M/M romance, contemporary with a bit of an edge. (This is also my first virtual release party, but I’m already having fun.) Before I go any further, I want you to know a little bit about the novel. Read on—here’s the blurb from the Dreamspinner Press website.

“Reclusive weaver Sonny Bly James controls every color and shape in his tapestries, but he can’t control the pattern of his life—a random encounter with Luki Vasquez, ex-ATF agent and all-around badass, makes that perfectly clear. The mutual attraction is immediate, but love-shy Sonny has retreated from life, and Luki wears his visible and not-so-visible scars like armor. Neither can bare his soul with ease. While they run from desire, they can’t hide from the evil that hunts them. After it becomes clear that a violent stalker has targeted Sonny, Luki’s protective instincts won’t let him run far, especially when Sonny’s family is targeted as well. Whether they can forgive or forget, Sonny and Luki will have to call a truce and work together to save Sonny’s nephew and fight an enemy intent on making sure loving Luki Vasquez is the last mistake Sonny will ever make.”

In a little while, I’ll post an excerpt, but right now, I’d like to get the party started with a contest. It’s easy to participate—just comment under the next post.

Starting right now, if you have questions or thoughts about Loving Luki Vasquez or about me, my writing, whatever—I’m anxious to hear from you. Comment here after any post, and let’s talk. (If you’re at the Dreamspinner facebook page, you may have to come here to the blog to comment.)
Now, for that contest…

A Devil’s Own Luck Excerpt Two

June 13, 2011

As I promised, here is a second excerpt from “A Devil’s Own Luck” and it is a little steamier than the last.

Enjoy!

By the time he had finished his apple, his servants had climbed the stairs three times, and William decided it was time to set his plan into action. Taking a deep breath, he took the lamp from his study and slowly climbed the stairs, making his way to Stephen’s bedchamber. He knocked on the door and waited. There was no answer, so he knocked again. When he still heard nothing, he turned the knob and let himself in.

The room was dark, and the fire had died out in the grate. In the light from his lamp, he saw that the food and broken china from earlier had been gathered into a small pile on the floor, and a stained rag next to it gave testimony to its usage as a mop for the wine. At first glance, William thought perhaps Maud was mistaken and Stephen had left, for there was no sign of him, but a slight movement out of the corner of his eye called William’s attention to the seat near the window, and there he found his guest. William walked over to where Stephen perched, still dressed only in his stained shirt, trousers, and stocking feet.

“You are still here,” William said gently to the bowed head below him.

“Yes,” Stephen replied in an almost-whisper.

William dropped to one knee in front of the man and cupped his chin in one hand, stroking his thumb across that full lower lip.

“What am I to do with you?” William sighed as sad and wary amber eyes met his. He smiled sadly back at Stephen, and the wariness in the young man’s eyes turned to confusion as he searched William’s face.

William took a deep breath and plunged on. “There is much we should speak of and much that should be said, but I do not believe we should do so tonight. We cannot seem to speak to one another without sparring and quarreling, so I will only ask you this: do you wish to go home, Stephen? I will see you get there safely and release Graves from his debts to me if that is what you wish.”

William waited, holding his breath, for Stephen to answer. Despite all that had happened between them, or perhaps because of it, William hoped the answer would be no. His plan for the rest of the night would mean nothing if Stephen only wished to return to Graves. William well knew he could have given up on the man several times in the last day and night, but something in him would not allow it. Something in him needed more from Stephen. The idea of letting him leave twisted something painful inside him. There was no rationalizing it. It simply was.

Stephen’s eyes widened in surprise at William’s last words, but he still remained silent. When he did not answer, William feared the worst, but he had to ask anyway, to hear it from Stephen’s lips. “Do you, Stephen? Do you wish to go home?”

William was surprised by a short bark of bitter laughter from the younger man. “Would that I could go home,” Stephen muttered. Then he gravely raised his eyes to meet William’s and said, “However, to answer the question as you intended it, no, I do not wish for you to send me back to Mr. Graves’s house, not yet.”

William was puzzled by Stephen’s queer response but stopped himself from asking about it. Tonight was not for lengthy conversation. They were both too raw for that, and that road only seemed to lead them into discord. He would continue with his plan and hope understanding and answers would follow.

“Very well. If that is your answer and you truly wish to stay, then I would ask a boon of you for tonight. There has been much unpleasantness exchanged between us in so short a time, and I am partly to blame for it. This evening I behaved shamefully toward you, a fact I am not proud of.”

Stephen frowned in concern and shook his head vigorously. “No, I—” he began earnestly, but William placed his fingers over the man’s lips, silencing him.

“Please do not argue with me, not tonight. That is the boon I would ask of you. No words. Not until tomorrow. You may tell me all you wish. You may praise me or castigate me. You may damn me or beg my forgiveness, whatever you wish, just not tonight. Tonight is my apology to you for the shameful manner in which I behaved. Will you allow me that?”

Stephen’s lips trembled beneath his fingers, and his eyes shone a little bright in the lamplight, reassuring William that he had taken the right course. This was the Stephen he wished to know—filled with great passions, yes, but a deep well of tender feelings as well, feelings he kept hidden behind anger and vitriol but that were there just the same.

Stephen took a deep breath through his nose, searched William’s face once more and nodded hesitantly. William smiled in relief, a truly open and happy smile that had Stephen’s eyes widening and fixating on William’s mouth. As the young man continued to stare at his mouth, William’s smile turned to a grin, and Stephen flushed and suddenly looked away.

“One more matter before we begin my apology… regarding my wife,” William felt compelled to say. When Stephen’s eyes returned to his, William continued. “My wife is dead and has been for many years. You have no need to fear a vengeful harridan swooping down upon us, I assure you.”

William stood without waiting for Stephen’s reaction and offered the young man his hand, smiling gently down at him. Stephen still looked a little wary, but he slid his hand into William’s just the same and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. When Stephen would have let go, William tightened his grip and began leading him out of the room. He could hear Stephen’s breath quicken as he led the younger man down the hall to his bedchamber, and his own pulse quickened in response.

William was pleased and grateful to find that Maud and Stubbs had prepared everything as he had requested and more when he entered the room. The coals were piled high in the grate, with a large iron kettle steaming above them. A copper bathing tub sat steaming in front of it, and a tray of cold meats, breads, cheese, and autumn fruits sat on the small table by the window. The lamps had been turned low, candles lit and set about the room, and a small brazier near the window sent plumes of perfumed smoke from the East Indies into the air. Those last details must have been Maud’s doing, and he silently thanked the woman for her thoughtfulness. She knew what a sensualist he was, and despite her feelings for his guest, she had endeavored above and beyond his orders to give him this. He would have to remember to thank her come morning.

William led Stephen to the center of the room and left him for a moment to close and lock the door. He ordinarily would not have bothered, but he was certain Stephen would be more comfortable knowing the door was locked. Turning back to face his guest, he watched Stephen sniff the air and gaze nervously about the room. William wasted no time in returning to his side. He did not want the bath water to get cold before he had even begun his seduction, and he did not want to give his quarry any chance to change his mind.

Stephen’s eyes returned to his, full of questions and a little trepidation, but William merely shook his head. “No words, Stephen. Please, just let me pamper you for a little while. I know this is supposed to be my apology to you, but it would mean a great deal to me if you would allow me to do this.”

When the younger man sighed and nodded, William undid the fastenings of Stephen’s soiled shirt and helped him pull it over his head. The shirt was ruined with wine and other stains, so William merely threw it into a corner of the room and began undoing the buttons on Stephen’s trousers. He knelt then to help Stephen off with them and removed the young man’s stockings as well, leaving him completely bare to William’s hungry gaze. Their first night together had been rather rushed, and William had not been given much chance to savor Stephen’s beauty. He hoped very much to correct that gross injustice this evening.

Kneeling in front of his lover, William let his gaze roam over the younger man’s body. Golden-brown hairs lightly dusted Stephen’s lean, muscled calves and thighs, sparkling a little in the flickering candlelight. A darker, thicker patch nestled between his legs, surrounding the base of a fair-sized, dusky cock that was rapidly swelling under William’s regard. A line of hair ran up the flat expanse of his belly, meeting the dusting of hair across his chest, and William could not resist running his fingers along that path, feeling the soft hairs tickle his skin. He followed the trail up to Stephen’s copper nipples, already drawn taut and dark, swirling his fingers through the hair surrounding them and grazing his palms over the pebbled nubs.

Still on his knees and only a hairsbreadth from Stephen’s cock, William smiled, hooded his eyes in lambent appreciation, and tipped his head back to meet those expressive amber eyes. Stephen watched him avidly, his tongue darting out several times to wet his sinfully full lips, begging with actions what he could not with words. William knew exactly what the man wanted, but he was not going to be rushed. He would take things slower this time—even if it killed him.

He ignored Stephen’s silent plea and climbed to his feet, dropping his hands down to run the backs of his thumbs up Stephen’s inner thighs as he stood, enjoying the man’s sharp intake of breath and the twitching of his cock. William’s own trousers were feeling a bit uncomfortable at present, but he was certainly old enough and experienced enough to know that pleasure only increased by delaying gratification. He could wait and find a measure of pleasure in prolonging his own sweet torment as well as his lover’s.

He smiled at Stephen’s slightly disappointed look and cupped his chin, leaning in to kiss him tenderly on the cheek and then just underneath his jaw. William still desperately wanted to take Stephen’s mouth, to kiss him with all the tenderness and passion he was feeling, but the young man had said he did not care for it, so William would have to content himself with kissing him everywhere else.

Smiling, William drew back and led his lover to the bathing tub. Stephen obediently sank into the water with a sigh and wrapped his arms around his bent knees, looking up expectantly for William to give him some direction. William was relieved that Stephen appeared willing to let him lead for a while, and even if it was only as an act of contrition, William could make use of that.

When Stephen was settled, William removed his own coat, waistcoat, and cravat, retrieved the thick cloth Maud had left on the mantel, and pulled the heavy kettle from the coals, pouring the hot water into the end of the bath to warm it up again. He then went to his wardrobe and withdrew the glass vial and jar Stubbs had purchased for him, setting the jar on the night table by the bed and taking the other back to the bath.

Under Stephen’s puzzled gaze, he rolled his shirtsleeves up and uncorked the small vial, pouring some of the liquid into the bath. Almost instantly the smells of sharp earth, sweet spices, and musk filled the air, and William drank it in with sensual delight.

Patchouli.

William had fallen in love with the scent the first time he had smelled its heady fragrance, and had made sure the men on the docks knew he would pay handsomely for it and any other exotic oils and spices they might “find” lying around after the Company had unloaded its cargo. He could find such things at more reputable markets, but he had always been a proponent of free trade. Even if he did not engage in it himself anymore, he could still support those who did.

William drew a small stool next to the tub and watched with pleasure as Stephen’s eyes closed and his body relaxed against the linens draped behind him. Well pleased with himself, William picked up the sea sponge and small jar of soap next to the tub and began washing Stephen’s body with it. Stephen’s eyes, now darkened to a deep, toffee color, opened and watched him for a time before sliding closed again as he surrendered to William’s ministrations.

For a long time, William simply played, running the soft sponge over the planes of Stephen’s body and learning the feel of every muscle and bone as it shifted beneath the smooth marble of his skin. He avoided the most obvious places, only making a cursory pass of Stephen’s pleasure centers in favor of teasing other areas and learning what else his young companion might like. Stephen’s ribs and nipples were very sensitive, as were his underarms and his belly, just under the bones of his hips. The younger man squirmed and moaned whenever William passed over those places and was excessively responsive to even the lightest touch, making William wonder at his apparent preference for such rough play their first night together, but he put such questions to the back of his mind for that night and simply concentrated on doing what seemed to give them both the most pleasure.

Excerpt from Lorcan’s Desire

May 30, 2011

This is from the first chapter of Lorcan’s Desire and gives you a good look at the inspiration for cover art. Ann Caine did an amazing job bringing this scene to life!!

THE roads may have been dusty and dry, causing clouds to swirl around each booted step he took, but at least the skies were clear. Thank heaven there was a slight chill in the air, as Lorcan didn’t think he would have been able to take another step had it been as hot as it had the day before. The worst part was that it was his own damn fault that he was in this predicament to begin with. His mama had warned him that it was “rough out there” and had ended her speech with “I’ll see you in a week.” His foolish pride had his twenty-one-year-old butt walking all over this godforsaken country looking for adventure. All he had gotten for his troubles was nine cents in his pocket, no prospects for work or a place to stay, and some nasty-ass blisters on his feet. The last thing he wanted to do was put his tail between his legs and crawl back home to a round of Mama’s “I told you so.” He had one last prospect for work and a place to stay. One last chance to avoid seeing that smug grin on his mama’s face. Or the look of exasperation on Daddy’s face.

The gas attendant a few miles back had told him that the Whispering Pines Ranch was looking for hands, and although he was headed out in the direction the attendant had pointed, he wasn’t feeling all too confident. The way the man had sneered and laughed when he’d asked about work hadn’t surprised him. The way he’d suggested Lorcan was exactly what “those folks” were looking for had even had him fighting back his usual tendency to lash out. Had he not been so I-need-to-find-work-or-starve-to-death-on-the-side-of-the-road desperate, he would have let his fist teach the country bumpkin some manners.

Lorcan was used to people looking at him and assuming they knew his sexual orientation. Because of it, he had learned young how to use his fists to prove he was male enough. Puberty hadn’t improved the delicate, almost feminine features he’d inherited from his mother. Nor had his tall, lean body taken on the bulk and mass of muscles like his father and brothers. Yet he had proven himself over and over to be by far the toughest of them all. Lorcan had eventually found a perverse pleasure in taking down his tormentors. He took to growing out his thick chestnut hair, provoking others further, flaunting his waist-length braid. Only thing he could hope for now, as he walked the back dirt roads of another nameless town, was that “those folks” out at Whispering Pines could use a man with a good work ethic and a strong back, even if his braided hair did curl down around his ass.

As the Whispering Pines Ranch house came into view, Lorcan nearly turned around and hightailed it back the other direction. The big two-story house looked like it would be more at home on the cover of a magazine featuring haunted houses than Ranchers Weekly. Shutters hung from the paint-peeled siding, the porch tilted dangerously to the right, and it didn’t look as if the lawn had been mown or weeded in forever.

He made his way through the calf-high lawn and gingerly placed his boot on the front step, testing its strength before adding his full weight. Remarkably, the half-rotten porch seemed sturdy enough. Lorcan made his way to the front entrance, swung open the scarred screen, and then knocked firmly on the more solid door beneath. Lorcan removed his hat from his head and wiped his brow of sweat as he waited for a response. He strained to listen for any signs that there might be someone approaching the door. When he neither received response nor heard anyone moving around on the other side of the door, he knocked with a little more force. When again there was no sound coming from within, he made his way around to the back of the house and was surprised that the barn and fencing seemed to be in excellent shape. Obviously the owner cared more about the animals and their living arrangements than his own.

An old water pump called to him like a siren, and he headed for it, not realizing until that moment how thirsty he was. He pumped the handle several times before the water began to flow, and he gorged himself on the clean, cold water. Once his thirst was quenched, he took his bandanna from his back pocket, wiping his waterlogged face as he leaned against the fence. He was beginning to regret not cutting his hair before leaving home. He needed to make a good impression, one that would ensure him a job. Lorcan didn’t want to have to make the trek back to his mama’s home, and he damn well didn’t want to have to do it today. With nothing in his belly in over twenty-four hours, an untold number of miles under his boots, and no sleep, he didn’t think it below him to beg the owner for some food and a hay bale to curl up on if they couldn’t offer him a job.

Read more HERE

Treasure of Love by Scotty Cade – What’s Next!

May 20, 2011

Okay this is the last time I promise!  It’s almost six o’clock, so for those of you who haven’t sent me your Treasure of Love blurb, time is running out.

For my last post, I wanted to give you a sample of the last two novels in the series.  I hope it’s enough to wet your whistle and get your jets firing. 

 

 

Bounty of Love (Prequel to Wing’s of Love)

Alexander “Zander” Walsh is the only survivor when his fiancé and his parents are brutally shot after returning from the rehearsal dinner the night before their wedding and stumbling upon a robbery in progress.  Hunky FBI agent Jake Elliot apprehends the killer and while being transported to the county jail, the transport is involved in a head on collision and the murderer, at first presumed dead, survived and is at large.

The FBI claims to have exhausted every lead and still hasn’t found the killer.   But Zander and Jake sense that something is not right with the investigation and determined to get to the bottom of it, they set out on their own to get the real story and find the killer.  Following a lead generated from the 48 Hours Mystery television show; they head to the Alaskan wilderness where someone fitting the killer’s description was last seen.

During the past six months while working very closely on the case, Zander and Jake finally act on a strong attraction that has been building slowly over time and they embark on a hot steamy romance.  When they apprehend the killer after accidentally stumbling onto his hideout, they find out what really happened on that dreadful night and all the pieces start to fall into place.  Big business, bad FBI agents and trusted friends all play a part in this unfolding drama.  Will Zander and Jake be able to bring the killers down to their knees and will their mountain romance stand the test of time?

Foundation of Love (sequel to Treasure of Love written with ZB Marshall)

Young Dr. Weston Stanhope thought he had escaped the constraints of Charleston society, and his overbearing father, Colonel Robert Lee Stanhope, when he moved to Seattle to pursue a career in medicine. But when his mother dies unexpectedly, Wes learns that she had begun plans to build a children’s hospital outside of Charleston, and that it was her fondest wish that her only child would lead the Stanhope Children’s Hospital.  

Wes is introduced to fellow Seattle resident Ty Williams, an openly gay architect, who agrees to spend a few weeks in Charleston to assist in launching the design of the hospital. But what began as a consulting engagement eventually turns to romance. Wes has always been in love with and married to his career, but now he must confront the growing realization that he is homosexual and in love with a man of color. When his father learns of their growing relationship, he demands that Wes choose between his ambition to run the Stanhope Children’s Hospital and the first true love of his life….Can Wes finally stand up to his bigoted and overbearing father to protect his career and the man he loves or will the constraints of Charleston society send them both back to Seattle?

PS:  Sjd and I will choose the winners and let you know by tomorrow, if not sooner who the winners are!

I’ve really enjoyed out time together and I hope you got something out of it as well!  See you next time!

Scotty Cade out!

Treasure of Love by Scotty Cade – Author Bio

May 20, 2011

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I’m back!!!

Now I know my loyal followers probably know as much about me as there is to know, so if you guys are reading this, just sign off and wait for the next posting.  J  But for those who are new to my work, I’d like you to get to know the guy behind the book.  I’m a little OCD and a little ADD all at the same time, but all those traits aside and I truly cherish each and every one of you and the outlet you’ve given me to show my creativity and follow my dream.  Without my readers and my publisher Dreamspinner Press, I wouldn’t have this wonderful opportunity to dream and create stories that hopefully you’ll enjoy.  So this is where you get to meet the real Scotty Cade, the person.  There’s probably more information here than you’ll ever want to know, but here goes:

I started my life in the city of New Orleans, Louisiana, better known as the Big Easy and was raised along with my two sisters in a very small neighborhood along the mighty Mississippi River.  I was undeniably a momma’s boy and enjoyed a lot of alone time with my stay-at-home mother before my younger sister was born, while my older sister was at school and my Dad was at work.  I spent fun days doing chores around the house riding on the back of her vacuum cleaner singing Etta James songs.  When the chores were done, we settled down for story time.  I truly believe that my love of reading and eventually writing was born then.  But all that came to a horrible end when my baby sister was born and I no longer had Mom all to myself.  Then another horrible incident almost ruined my life, my sixth birthday and the first grade.  Oh Boy, did I hate going to school.  I went, but I went kicking and screaming literally every morning until I was seven, my poor mother.  Having to share my mother with my newborn sister and having to attend school left us very little time together and I truly felt deserted, but I really showed her, I jumped ship into my Father’s world.  I was the only boy, so it was the logical next step.  Happy again to be the center of someone’s world, I soaked it up every day.

My father raised quarter horses as a hobby and some of my fondest memories surround that time in my life.  When we were older, on weekends the entire family would pack up the horses and head to local horse shows where, my father, my younger sister and I would compete in barrel racing and cutting.  But my most cherished memories are of my father and me taking long horseback rides along the levies of the mighty Mississippi river enjoying sandwiches and snacks lovingly prepared by my mother.  We spent long summer days of riding and jabbering about this or that or just enjoying a comfortable silence.  It wasn’t really the conversation or the silence that was important to me, but the interest he took in my life that thirty five years later, still makes my heart swell.  After a brief marriage, one of those special moments is where I found the nerve to come out to my Father, one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life.   He did much better that I did and in the end wanted only my happiness.  He’s been nothing but supportive and non-judgmental of my life and I will remember that as long as I live.  Unfortunately, the lights in my life got a little dimmer when my loving mother died five years ago of colon cancer and dimmed yet again when my Father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s three years ago.  Fortunately, he still lives in our family home near my sisters and they along with a nurse, act as his primary caregivers, but he has a few good days but mostly really bad days.  He does his best and that’s all we can ask of him.

Okay, enough of the sappiness.  I attended Louisiana State University, majoring in Marketing, but unfortunately never graduated.  I was lucky enough to be offered a job to manage a very large well established furniture store in my hometown and went for it.  I stayed with the company for five years and started making my way up the corporate ladder.  I joined a high-tech company in New Orleans, and was transferred to Atlanta, GA where I met the love of my life.  Kell and I have been together fourteen years now and we’re still going strong. 

I’ve worked for a total of six companies throughout my twenty-five year career and ended up as the Senior Vice President of Worldwide Marketing and Public Relations for a very large company based in Atlanta.  Throughout my career I focused my writing capabilities on Marketing materials, Annual Reports, Press Releases, radio scripts, broadcast media, and the likes, but always had novels running around wild in my head.  Kell and I both gave up the corporate rat race and bought a small hotel and restaurant on the island of Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts. Can you imagine two southern boys ending up in New England?  I should think not, boy what a culture shock.  But after seven years, we managed to find our way and are healthy and happy in our environment.  About three years into our venture, we hit burn-out and hired a general manager to run our business while we took a year off.  That is when I started my first Novel, Final Encore, and the rest his history.  After that first year off, Kell and I enjoyed our freedom so much that we purchased a forty-two motor yacht called “One Mo Time,” which is now where most of my writing is done.  We travel the waters of New England all summer long with our Shetland sheepdog, Mavis and in October we cruise down south to Charleston, SC for the winter.

The ideas for books keep coming and I have so much in my head that wants to come out, but my fingers are just not fast enough to get it all down.  So I dance the dance between my fingers and brain on a daily basis and can only hope for the best. Being from the south and a lover of commitment and fidelity, most of my characters find their way to long healthy relationships, however long it takes them to get there.  I believe that in the end, the boy should always get the boy.  After all I got mine.

So how’s that for a life? I’ve been so very lucky in love and my career that sometimes it just doesn’t seem real.  Don’t get me wrong, everything I have I worked for and nothing was handed to me, but I’ve feel so fortunate to be in a position to be able to write without the worries of everyday life getting in the way.

Well, that’s it for now.  I have one more post just before six pm and then we’re done!

For more information you can go to www.scottycade.com.

 

Treasure of Love by Scotty Cade – A little Q and A!

May 20, 2011

Yeah it’s me, Scotty Cade here again to bug you a little more!

Below is a little Q&A I did for another blog spot and thought the questions were well thought out and interesting.  I hope you’ll agree and hopefully pick up a little more information about Treasure of Love and me.  And a little later, for those of you who don’t know me, I’ll share a little bit about myself.  You’ll probably be bored to tears, but because everything is always about me, me, me, you’ll read and you better darn well like it.  J

 

Tell us a little about Treasure of Love. How did you come up with the title?

Treasure of Love is the second book of a four book series of independent novels with recurring characters and locations and that began with Wings of Love and will conclude with Bounty of Love and Foundation of Love both due to be released August and December respectively.  Treasure of Love is the story of Jack Cameron, a character you first met in Wings of Love that had a very hard time accepting the fact that Mac Cleary, the man to which his late sister had been married, fell head over heels in love with Brad Mitchell.  He fought the relationship tooth and nail and was almost successful in destroying it before it began.  In Treasure of Love he explores his homophobia and realizes that his over reaction was caused mostly by fear and a buried attraction to the same sex.
What is the hardest scene you had to write in Treasure of Love?

 

Wow, that’s a tuff one.  I guess two scenes were very important to me.  The first was when Jack has the realization that he might be gay.  I wanted that scene to be as realistic as possible because for those of us that have been through it, we know it can be and usually is a painful process and deserves tons of respect.  The second was the first time he and Dax make love.  I wanted that scene to be sweet and eye opening for Jack.  I especially wanted him to feel like this connection is what’s he been lacking all of his life and now he has it with Dax and he’s not letting go.

 

Tell us something about Jackson Cameron and why will readers like him?

 

I really didn’t like Jack very much in Wings of Love or in the beginning of Treasure of Love, but I soon developed a respect for him when he realized the emotions he was fighting and owned up to his feelings.  By the middle of the story I was pulling for he and Dax and I hope the readers will feel the same way.

Why is Jackson, who is sure he is straight, attracted to Dax?

 

People are attracted to whom they are attracted and I believe that if being in a same sex relationship was as “normal” and accepted as heterosexual relationships and it was okay to be attracted to a person regardless of their sex, there would be many more supposed “straight” people in same sex relationships.  So to answer your question, I believe that Jack was man enough to acknowledge his attraction, which shattered everything he thought about himself, and try to explore his feelings and I so admire him for that.

Tell us something about the relationship between Dax and Jackson. Why will readers be rooting for them to be together or will they?

 

In the beginning, Dax has no idea that Jack is experiencing these feelings for him.  In fact, he believes Jack to be straight as an arrow and he’s very frustrated because he’s experiencing the same feelings.  When things finally start to develop, Dax knows Jack is struggling and is ever patient and supportive, which I hope will make the readers pull for them.  It certainly did for me.

What was your first reaction when you got a glimpse of your cover art?

 

As writers, we live and breathe our novels as we’re writing them.  We also develop this attachment to our characters and the vision we see in our heads doesn’t always match the models that are available for our covers.  It took a couple of tries to find just the right models, but other than the models the cover was beautiful.  The snow capped mountains in the background, the beautiful blue waters, and of course Dax and Jack all make one hell of a cover.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

Now for the fun stuff.  Do you have any guilty pleasures?

 

Oh yeah! Most people have this sweet tooth, but not me.  I’ll trade sweets every day of the week for meatloaf and mashed potatoes.  Of course my waistline can’t accommodate it, but boy is it nice top think about it.

Name one thing readers would be surprised to know about you.

 

Wow, another tough one!  Let’s see, maybe that I captain our forty-two motor yacht, which oddly enough is where I do most of my writing.

If you didn’t have to worry about counting calories or fat, what’s the first food you’d reach for?

 

Da!  Meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

As an author, what makes a book great in your eyes?

 

I love a mystery thriller with an underlying love story and believe it or not the mystery thriller part is the hardest part to write.  My writing process starts out with an outline and I hammer out the story, but with mystery thrillers my outline never really stays true to the story.  My characters always take on a life of their own and as many times as I try to stick to my outline, the characters have other ideas.  With a mystery thriller, I never really know “who done it,” until the story starts to develop and goes in a certain direction and the guilty one always shows his or her true colors. 

If someone hasn’t read any of your work, what book would you recommend they start with and why?

 

“Wings of Love” is a great story about loss and loving again and it holds a special place in my heart, so I would start there.

What are you working on now that your readers can look forward to?

 

I’m in the editing stage of “Foundation of Love” and working on the outline for “Ruby Lode.”  Many readers have asked for a sequel to Final Encore and I’ve been playing around with a plotline for that as well.