3/31/2012


Check out the latest/upcoming attractions 

Upcoming Release                              Latest Release             


Mark's Opening Gambit
Breathless Press
Coming April 6th, 2012
Contemporary Gay (M/M), Light Bondage, Erotic Romance

The son of a wealthy business man, Mark Addison is an expert at chess and hiding. Mason Grant labors with his hands in a menial position; he's open about who he is and what he wants in ways that terrify Mark. . Their paths shouldn't have crossed, but now that they have...
They came from different backgrounds, yet each adheres to his own version of family duty and responsibility. One would make any sacrifice for his family's well being. For Mason Grant that means leaving school at sixteen and working hard while living as a man of integrity to set an example for his brothers.

The other would sacrifice anything to keep his family life calm. If that means hiding who he really is from his high society, narrow-minded parents, then that's what Mark Addison will do. He just wants to run his shop, host a few tournaments, play a few games of chess.
When Mason meets fussy, precise chess tournament director Mark, he isn't expecting much more than a few hours of uncomfortable sleep in his car while his brother plays.

One disdainful look from Mark changes that.

Loving Eden
Breathless Press
Contemporary Gay (M/M), Erotic Romance

Eden St. Cyr wants to let the boy who's crushing on him down easy. Drew Harris wants to protect his son from what he considers a disastrous relationship. Neither of them counted on being attracted to the other.
Eden St. Cyr has wandering feet. He shuffles around the country from place to place and college to college, changing majors and lovers at whim. When Bailey Harris starts following him home, mooning around, and showing signs of affection, Eden hatches a plan to let the kid down lightly before he leaves for the next semester, the next college, and the next lover.
Drew Harris is stunned at the changes in his son. His responsible, dependable, cheerful boy has become a moody, despondent, irresponsible teenager. Drew knows exactly who to blame too. When Eden doesn't return his phone calls, he's forced to be a little more devious in his plans to get the bad influence out of his son's life.
An unexpected attraction derails both men from their plans, but when Bailey walks in at the least appropriate time, can things be put right?



Because You're YouTaking the DareThe LibrarianGiving UpTelling the TruthKeeping HouseAnd The Prompt Is...Volume One

3/30/2012

Flash Fiction Friday: My Boy Friend's Ex




My Boy Friend's Ex


     I knew there was something about this job he didn't want me to know,  but walking on set to find Trey fucking a chick wasn't on my radar of things he might be hiding.

     She squealed, bucking into him. Acting my ass. I threaded my fingers through the hair at my nape where it prickled uncomfortably. When I realized how closely his grip in her hair mirrored my gesture I dropped it immediately.

     I growled. Trey's head snapped up.

     "I can explain."

     "No, you can't." His ex-fiancée lay on the bed, tiny school girl skirt flipped up revealing glistening flesh. 

Like my flash? Try the others:






New Contest! Want to Win Mark's Opening Gambit?


Winner Is:  Maya! 

Congratulations! Please watch for your email notification! 




We're one week from Release! 

That means it's time to give away a copy to some lucky commenter! 

If you'd like a copy of Mark's Opening Gambit, leave a comment on this post, telling me what your favorite flavor of Pop Tart is! 

That's right... your favorite Pop Tart. 

Mine is plain old fashioned unfrosted strawberry, FYI. 

Winner will be selected by random draw on April 4th, so check back here then to find out.

(Don't forget- I can't contact you if you don't leave me your email address!) 

Want to know what you're getting? 




BLURB

The son of a wealthy business man, Mark Addison is an expert at chess and hiding. Mason Grant labors with his hands in a menial position; he's open about who he is and what he wants in ways that terrify Mark. . Their paths shouldn't have crossed, but now that they have...

They came from different backgrounds, yet each adheres to his own version of family duty and responsibility. One would make any sacrifice for his family's well being. For Mason Grant that means leaving school at sixteen and working hard while living as a man of integrity to set an example for his brothers.
The other would sacrifice anything to keep his family life calm. If that means hiding who he really is from his high society, narrow-minded parents, then that's what Mark Addison will do. He just wants to run his shop, host a few tournaments, play a few games of chess.
When Mason meets fussy, precise chess tournament director Mark, he isn't expecting much more than a few hours of uncomfortable sleep in his car while his brother plays.
One disdainful look from Mark changes that.



EXCERPT

The golden brown gaze didn't warm in the slightest under his own admiring regard, but scanned his faded Levis and tight T-shirt with disapproval. Mason half expected to be informed he didn't meet the dress code for the elegant little shop. Instead, Mark Addison looked him over and dismissed him as though he were beneath notice.
Shrugging off the snobbery, Mason slapped his brother on the back. "Go get 'em, kid.  Or whatever you guys call it." He hoped to sleep in his car while his brother played, and turned to leave immediately.
He met Addison's eyes again, tried for a smile, but the arrogant host stared right through him. "Students participating in the tournament are to be supervised by adults at all times." 
The inflectionless voice grated on his nerves as much as the pronouncement.  It wasn't like these were two year olds, for God's sake. It was Chess Club. By virtue of their very geekiness they were mature, well behaved teens.
Too bad such a sexy voice and face belonged to such a prick.  Unfortunately for Mason, he couldn't focus on Johnny's progress through the tournament. All he seemed able to focus on was that slim figure moving between the tables, the unconscious grace of the small man's movements, the seductive draw of tightening khaki across his backside as he bent to survey a board or pick up something from the floor.
He scowled as Mark glared at him again, turning and facing resolutely out the window into the parking lot. In the reflection the glass provided, he watched Mark excuse himself from Ainslie, the kid's coach, and head in his direction, a determined expression on his face.
Good. The self-righteous prick had noticed him. Mark stopped right next to him, and they stood staring out into the parking lot together.
"Stop staring at me like that."
Mason snorted, turned to look down at the shorter man. "Like what?"
The older man twitched and licked his lips. Mason stifled the groan that wanted to escape. He shifted restlessly.
"You know. Like...that."
"Like I want to throw you over my shoulder and take you out of here and fuck you? Sorry. Can't do that." Fascinated, he noted the flush on Mark's cheekbones deepen, heard the hitch in his breathing and knew that he'd been right. Chemistry burned between them.
"You..." Mark glanced cautiously around the shop at the kids concentrating so fiercely on their chess games, the proud parents and coaches peering anxiously at their little darlings. Mark stuttered to a stop before starting again. "Not here. We need to talk privately. Meet me behind the shop in ten minutes."






3/28/2012

Welcome Guest Silvia Violet




Hello everyone! Lee invited me to talk about reality vs fantasy in romantic stories, and I will, but I'm also going to talk about one of my favorite topics – chocolate cake. Chocolate cake is, to me, one of the most perfect foods. I love cake and I love chocolate. When they are blended together and then topped with rich, buttery chocolate icing, an orgasmic eating experience ensues. Mmmm…..
Where was I….oh yes, reality vs. fantasy. Let's say for the purpose of this post that a peanut
butter sandwich represents everyday reality. It's tasty, serviceable food. But it's not typically the thing fantasies are made of (Of course I'm now pondering a way to work a peanut butter sandwich fantasy into my next book.) People don't normally eat a peanut butter sandwich as an escape or a treat. Chocolate cake on the other hand. Chocolate cake is pure fantasy - scrumptious dessert fantasies, foodie fantasies, and possibly on occasion….well, you can imagine those fantasies for yourself.
When I read romance, I want to read about chocolate cake experiences, not peanut butter experiences. But chocolate cake doesn't have to be perfect to be a treat.
Imagine, if you will, a cake that didn't want to co-operate coming out of the pan. The layers are lop-sided, making the cake slant off to one side. When you ice it, the broken pieces add crumbs to the icing. It's not a show piece, but it still tastes amazing. The inside is still moist, rich, and sinfully good and the icing patches it up nicely. I would be happy with just such a cake, and I'm happy to read about heroes who need a little patching up or who aren't perfectly put together.
A chocolate cake with no flaws might be too pretty too eat, but a chocolate cupcake that got knocked about coming out of the tin, one iced by a kid more eager to eat the cake than look at it, that's a treat I can relate to. If a hero has no flaws, he's so far from my reality that I can't relate to him. I can't put myself in his shoes or imagine myself in his bed. But if he's got flaws – he's arrogant, naïve, stubborn, afraid to take any risks, no longer as young or fit as he's "supposed" to be – then he's real to me. That amount of reality won't prevent him from being as delicious as chocolate cake.
I want my reading to take me to a world where two people fall in love despite their flaws and then get their happily ever after. Maybe in a peanut butter sandwich world, their relationship would never work, but in the world of fantasy, they are each other's chocolate cake.
Lark Zaccaro and Derek Carlson aren't perfect men. They've both made choices in the past that have left them scarred, hurt, and alone. In Abandoned, they get a second chance to see past each other's flaws.
Galactic Betrayal 1: Abandoned by Silvia Violet
Blurb:
Lark Zaccaro and Derek Carlson were partners and friends. Lark wanted more. Then someone at the Intergalactic Investigations Bureau sold them out to enemy aliens. Lark was forced to abandon Derek to the enemy, and Derek bought the IIB’s story that Lark betrayed them all.
When Lark’s deep cover mission and Derek’s new job in search-and-rescue collide, the desire simmering between them explodes. Lark needs Derek’s help to escape a new enemy, and Derek needs to
discover the truth about what really happened on that alien planet. Can they overcome lies and betrayal and find the love and comfort they seek, or will their past forever keep them apart?

Excerpt:

Lark Zaccaro smiled as he stepped out of the dripping jungle heat, and into the prison building. Even inside, the stale air was so splyvin' hot it belonged in an oven. He didn't know how anyone could breathe. Not that he was supposed to give a fuck if his prisoners got air or not. He took as deep a breath as he could and headed straight for the interrogation room.
A few hours earlier, his guards had discovered a man crouched in the underbrush, spying on their enclave. Lark's morning had been hell so far, and a vicious interrogation suited his mood perfectly. The two guards flanking the door stepped aside, so he could enter what was truly more of a torture chamber than an interrogation room. At least that's what it had been for his predecessor, and the longer Lark lived on Lancarina, the more he found himself becoming like the man he'd assassinated and replaced. He pushed that disturbing thought away. He wouldn't dwell on how low he'd sunk since he'd left his partner to die in a Lithusian prison cell.
The captive hung from the ceiling, suspended by a heavy chain circling his bound wrists. His toes barely scraped the floor, forcing his arms to support the weight of his large body. The dirty chain bit into his wrists, and blood dripped down his arms. In this squalid jungle, he'd have a deadly infection in no time. Lark would have to do something about that. The man had a ship with advanced defenses. Thus, he was Lark's ticket off this cesspool of a planet.
The man's clothes hung in shreds, and Lark couldn't help but admire his muscular body. His gaze slid over the captive's hard thighs, the impressive bulge in his pants, and the well-defined and disturbingly familiar planes of his chest. When he saw the man's face, he froze. No. It couldn't be. His former partner would have no reason to be here. But Derek Carlson, the man who had haunted Lark's nightmares and his fantasies every day for the six Old Earth months he been in this hellhole, was right in front of him. Chained. Suspended. His to do with as he pleased.
Lark's cock hardened, pressing against the confines of his pants. His body knew what it wanted from Derek, but his mind was less sure. Retribution? Forgiveness? A hot fuck before he threw him in prison to rot? Salvation? His gut knotted at that thought, and he fought to keep his guards from noticing how off kilter he was. He had to play his role, not rush this moment.
There would be time later, in his private quarters, to decide what he wanted to know and how he was going to get the information. If the vessel they had captured in the jungle was Derek's private issue ship, then he'd finally forsaken the lying scum at the Intergalactic Investigation Bureau. They might say their mission is to protect everyone in the five galaxies, but they only care about protecting their own asses. Lark intended to find out why Derek had left, but his guards would play no part in that interrogation. Derek was his.
Lark took a few steps toward the prisoner and studied him. He'd wanted him for years, from the moment they were assigned to work with each other at the IIB. Derek had turned down all his advances, saying they should keep their relationship professional. But now Derek was his prisoner, not his
partner. If he wanted to live, he'd do whatever Lark told him to.
From the way Derek limply hung in his bonds, he was either unconscious or doing an excellent job of faking it. His former partner had fought hard from the look of him. A livid bruise stood out on one cheek and purple splotches decorated his ribs. A deep gash on his arm had dripped blood trails that were now dry. He would have to tend to Derek’s wounds.
Lark needed the man's piloting skills. If he were going to kill Derek for believing those liars from the IIB when they told him Lark had turned traitor, he intended to do so with his own hands after they got off planet. Fortunately, he kept a fully stocked first aid cabinet in his quarters. He just needed to find a way to get Derek there without making his men suspicious .
Nothing but fear and the promise of a huge payoff on their next deal kept Lark's men from turning on him, in the same way he'd turned on the man he had been sent here to investigate. He pulled a long thin blade from his boot and pretended to examine the sharp edge as he circled Derek. He had to suppress a gasp when he saw the maze of scars criss-crossing Derek's back. If he let himself think about how Derek got those, he might be sick right here.
"Leave us," he said to the guards who were eyeing the prisoner in obvious hope of getting some play time.
Buy Abandoned here:
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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
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