New Contest: The Park at Sunrise-

Releasing December 2


Breathless Press

The Story Orgy Anthology


The Park at Sunrise

First they were three, now there are two.  
Can Jason and Morgan make a relationship work without Paul?
For years the three of them had been inseparable, first as friends, then lovers. It's been ten years since they parted for what was supposed to be a year apart to pursue their dreams.   This isn't the reunion they planned then.  It's nine years too late for one thing, and they are one man short for another.
In the years since Paul's death, Morgan hasn't exactly been waiting for Jason to reach out to him.    He's been too busy trying to forget, to move on.  Until Jason sends the right message. Is the painting just an excuse to see his ex again?

Excerpt —
"I see you're dressed for the weather as always, Morgan." Jason's voice was husky, hesitant.
A pair of black knit gloves landing in my lap tipped me over that edge from making a snide remark to throwing an uncalled for hissy fit.
My jaw clenched tightly. Screw breathing deeply. I yanked the cap from my head, pulling long strands of black hair from the band at my neck, and winced at the tiny pain. I flung the cap to the ground in front of us and looked up the black denim clad legs to the black pea coat and beyond. My mouth opened to swear, but no sound came out. The hissy fit drained away to something else entirely. My pulse still raced, but for an entirely different reason.
How fair was that? How fucking fair was it that after ten years apart, my hair showed silvery streaks and my face showed my age, but Jason was still the slender boyish youth of years gone by? Yeah, he'd shaved the dirty blond dreadlocks. Those wire rim glasses were new, but he appeared as youthful and vibrant, untouched by life, alive as he had when we'd all parted years ago to make those sunrise dreams reality. His black jeans had the tell tale smudges of paint, and I'd be willing to bet that underneath those leather driving gloves lurked more paint.
This wasn't the reunion we planned then. It was nine years too late, for one thing. We were one man short for another.
The bench creaked as he perched next to me on the top slat, and instinctively I grabbed his knee to anchor both of us so we wouldn't topple backward. His hand covered mine before I could jerk it away and he refused to relinquish it when I tugged. I gave in with ill grace. Jason’s touch stirred physical responses I’d rather not experience.

Like it? Leave a comment and you could win a copy! Include a way to contact you, though! 


  1. Oh I Love this story!! Cannot wait for the new Anthology to come out. Also would love a free copy ;)

  2. I really enjoyed this story! And, the title is awesome. Great job Lee!

  3. Oops...guess it would help if I put my contact info down huh?


    My excuse is that I worked all day and now my brain has turned to mush...LOL.

  4. Sounds great ... Looking forward tithe second anthology :-D

    Sarah S


  5. Loved the excerpt! Would love to win. Here's my info.



  6. great excerpt! would also like to win! thanks for offering this Lee!


    tigerblossoms at hotmail dot com

  7. Seems like I've been waiting FOREVER for this anthology! Of course I'd love to win a copy. My piggy bank sounded pretty empty when I shook it this morning. :) diannewrites2(at)hotmail(dot)com

  8. Pick me, Pick me! LOL

    erpierce30 at gmail dot com

  9. Congrats for the upcoming release, and can't believe I missed The Story Orgy Anthology, and look forward to reading this. sounds wonderful!
    Please add me as I would love to read this..*S*
    pommawolf @hotmail.com

  10. Congratulations on your upcoming release! I'd love to be entered in the contest! *grins*

    beatrice.g.tan [at] gmail [dot] com

  11. Please enter me in this contest. Thank you.

  12. Sorry I forgot to enter my contact info npl42011@hotmail.com


Be Yourself

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955