Coming June 16th
from Lee Brazil and
Silver Publishing
5/12/2012
5/11/2012
Crawl in Bed With: Havan Fellows - Second Date
Well aren't I the
lucky one? I get to crawl into bed with my muse again...but you always knew I
liked repeats didn't you Lee? *giggles and grabs Lee's arm dragging him into
the bed next to me* There you go...now I can get all nice and comfy cozy...*big
shite eating grin*
*snuggles* I know. It's awesome that we have an excuse to do this. Important things first, are
these sheets silk or cotton?
You are climbing
into bed with me and the sheets are the important thing? *giggling* Okay, they
are cotton...I'd love to have silk sheets but I've tried them before...if I'm
gonna slip slide on my bed I don't want it to be because of the linens *winks*
*blinks* *Checks room for hidden cameras. * Okay. Um...If you're going to be naughty, I'll have to get the bag out. Let's get this interview back on track. What are you wearing?
Well, Lee
honey...what would you like me to wear?
Oh? I get to choose, huh? then I want you to wear this.
Oh...and this...I think this needs to be right about there....
Okay. Now that you're dressed properly, what are we snacking on in
bed while we read tonight?
The norm would be
M&M's...but for you I chose something a little more decadent...fresh
berries and real cream to swirl them around in...try one, I love to pop them in
my mouth and suck the cream off...
* unbuckles belt* Do I have to chastise you? Stay focused! If I open this nightstand
drawer, what will I find?
*hangs head* well
now you've done it...that particular nightstand drawer is boring...the extra
remote for the television that never gets turned on, multiple pads and pens
that never write, oh and yeah—those three golf balls are always in there, again
don't ask *heads desk giggling*...but if you want toys...I keep my bag under
the bed...hmmm
*chuckles* No. No, I brought the only toys I'll need. Let's get this little ritual finished so and I'll show you. Do you roll up in the
blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?
Ever since last
year I have a trusty blankie I sleep with *blushes*, so shoot me...but I don't
roll up in it or kick it off...it drapes me lovingly...*giggles*...but my feet
never stay under it...
Nice. This blanket...is it soft and fuzzy? Can we share it? Will it cover us both? Can I put my cold feet on
your calves to warm them up?
Now haven't we
discussed this? Your feet are welcome anywhere they want to go...not only
welcome but encouraged too...hehe
*chuckles. Excellent answer. What are we reading?
Oh this is the
good part...we are enjoying Emery's Ritches...my very first solo
release...*cocks an eyebrow at Lee and smirks* Oh go ahead, I dare you to say
what you are thinking...*giggles*
Now come on *pats
pillow next to me and hold the kindle so we both can read* let's get this party
started...
Emery's Ritches
Ritchie Lymings
is wallowing in self-pity after seeing the man he loves—his best
friend—reunited with his arch enemy. He's drowning his sorrows in coffee and
caramel when an irritating stranger barges into his life, determined to make
him smile. Even if this interloper is too dense to understand his faux pas,
Ritchie figures he may be good for a quickie to get his mind off of his
immediate situation. A simple round of love 'em and leave 'em sounds promising.
Emery Hutchins
recognizes Ritchie immediately when he stops for his morning coffee and
breakfast. His friend Ryder had been telling him stories about "the
infuriating twit" for years. Fate and coincidence were two things that
normally gave Emery cause for pause, but he couldn't let this opportunity pass
him by. Unable to relinquish control to fate though, he immediately devises a
plan to make the deliciously snarky Ritchie his own, one hundred percent
completely.
But for these two
diverse personalities there is one major problem. How can Ritchie's attitude
and Emery's meticulousness blend together, or is this an oil and water mess?
Excerpt:
"Oh wow, and here I
feared the worst, that you would never break through that dark look and smile.
Now that I've seen your smile, I'm pretty sure I never want to see you without
it."
Snapping out of his
daydream, Ritchie turned to the intruding voice and set eyes on the sexiest man
he'd seen in a long time. Short golden hair on the sides, longer in front,
clear silver-blue eyes, high forehead, and pouty cupid's bow lips. Hot damn, he's a god.
After a few tense
seconds, Ritchie finally found his voice and attempted to put it to good use.
"Can I help you?" Okay, not good use, but use at least.
"Most definitely, in
so many ways too."
Ritchie's brows drew
together and he couldn't hold back the growl. "Excuse me?"
The man smiled, wide and
easy. "I wondered if I could share this table with you? This place gets
busy in the blink of an eye. Plus I seem to have bought two coffees and two
scones so I was thinking we could have breakfast together." And with that,
he placed two cups and the single plate with two cinnamon chip scones he had
meticulously juggled onto the table. He then proceeded to make himself at home
in the chair across from Ritchie.
Ritchie glanced around
and noted at least three empty tables, and pointedly glared back at his
interloper.
That easy breezy grin
didn't falter and the man didn't miss a beat. "That table wobbles, almost
spilled a whole cup of their hazelnut all over me the other morning." He
pointed to empty table number one. Then he directed his finger at empty table
number two. "Sitting right next to that table you'll find Mrs. Glein.
She's a widow and sweet as pie, but keeps insisting I meet with this mysterious
grandson of hers named Stevie. Now considering she only has one grandchild, a
beautiful woman named Stephanie, I figure she wants to convert me. I would
rather skip that conversation this morning." Ritchie glanced over at the old
lady. She smiled widely at the stranger and he waved and nodded back in
acknowledgment.
Then he turned his
attention to the third table that now housed two students with their laptops.
"And darn if I didn't just miss that table by a millisecond. Good thing I
got this seat when I did, huh?"
Ritchie took another sip
of his coffee, trying to process how to lose this guy. He was obviously ill in
some department no matter how hot he might be. Ritchie tilted his cup all the
way back, then remembered it was empty. He set the mug back down a little too
heavily causing a loud clacking noise that caused many of the patrons to look
up with disapproving glares.
Then he looked back at
his company, who held the extra steaming cup out to him. "Caramel latte, I
believe?"
Begrudgingly, Ritchie
took the cup and sipped some more. Damn near everything could be solved with
the blessed combination of coffee and caramel. Staring into those clear
silver-blue eyes from across the table, he stressed the damn near part.
"So, to what do I
owe the great honor of your company?"
Grinning (of course,
Ritchie mentally rolled his eyes) the man said, "You can owe the great
honor to the fact that I didn't want to eat breakfast alone. Usually I don't
mind, but when I noticed you so melancholy I decided today I minded."
Ritchie nodded. "Ah,
I get it now. You're one of those do-gooders that just has to stick his nose
where it isn't wanted. Come to turn my frown upside down, have you? Thanks, I
appreciate the pity, but I'm doing just fine pitying myself. Don't need your
help."
"But you did need my
coffee and you do need to eat something." He placed one of the scones on a
napkin in front of Ritchie.
"What are you, my
mother?"
He winked at Ritchie.
"Not exactly, I don't have the proper equipment for that. Though now I
think I should start pitying myself that you didn't notice." And for the
first time throughout this whole weird interaction, the stranger's smile turned
into an exaggerated version of a pout.
Ritchie rolled his eyes
for real this time, and against his will, he felt himself smirking in response
to that pout.
"Ah ha!" Not
surprisingly the pout disappeared. "I knew I would break down your
defenses eventually. So who is he?"
"Excuse me?"
Hadn't he already said that during this conversation?
"Who's the guy
that's got you all knotted up? Only way for someone to look that downcast is
when love's involved. Since you aren't all pissy and mad, well, not any more
than what I assume's the norm for you," the man chuckled at his own joke, "I
have to deduce that it's unrequited love. The guy obviously doesn't understand
what a joyful gem you are. So I repeat, who is he? Shall I hunt him down and
explain the error of his ways?" He popped a bit of scone into his mouth
and managed to smile through the closed-mouth chewing process.
"I'm sorry, am I
putting off a vibe saying that I'm a people person or something? Because if so,
I need to fix my vibe-o-meter. What makes you think it's a guy anyway?"
New Cover Art for June Release: The Man Trap
Coming June 1
The Man Trap
by Lee Brazil
m/m contemporary romance
Breathless Press
When
former classmate Alexi Manetas wanders into his book store, Simon Harris seizes
the opportunity to rekindle a flame he'd carelessly extinguished years earlier
5/08/2012
Tantalizing Tuesday #3
Welcome back to Tantalizing Tuesday!
Have a little bit of an issue this morning. *shakes head*
These boys. Just an FYI- picture him with longer hair...
"I've got
nothing to say."
"I
have," Blayne snapped sharply. "Someone has to make you see the mess you're
making of your life!"
Aaron tossed his
head, sending waves of hair tumbling through the rough wood slats of the park
bench. He clamped his lips shut, holding in the bitter retort that trembled on his
tongue. Don't feed the trolls in the
park; they'll never leave you alone.
"Who answered
your phone?" Blayne continued relentlessly. "A new trick? Can't you
ever sleep alone?"
The unjust
accusations struck especially hard since he'd spent the last three months very
much alone. Fury and inexplicable pain roared to life. "Fuck you, Blayne.
We spent one night together. Great sex does not entitle you to pass judgment. Think
what you like; I am not a slut."
"Oh? So that
wasn't you I picked up in that bar?" Blayne's lips twisted.
"I'm off."
Aaron swung his feet off the bench and sat upright. He winced as the splintered
wood pulled at his hair. He didn't give a damn about the physical pain though. "I
wasn't alone in that bar looking to get laid. If that makes me a slut, then
what does it make you?"
LIKE MY FLASH? CHECK OUT THE OTHERS!
Naomi Shaw: http://
Julez S Morbius: http://
Muffy Wilson: http://
Dianne Hartsock: http://
Lee Brazil: http://
Sherry Palmer: http://
Havan Fellows: http://
ER Pierce: http://erpierce.com
Benjamin T. Russell http://
Gemma Parkes: http://
Don Abdul: http://don-abdul.blogspot.com/
Cassandre Dayne http://
Leann Mitchell: http://
Ray Sostre: http://
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