6/08/2013

Temptation in USA Today....

Holy guacamole (and I'll make it from scratch!) Temptation is featured in the USA Today new releases...list compiled by Rachel Firasek.... Scroll down all the way...It's the last picture...




http://www.usatoday.com/story/happyeverafter/2013/06/07/new-releases-erotic-romance-june-2013/2397633/


And so of course...I had to grab a screen shot!

That sound you hear is my face cracking cuz I'm grinning so wide :)

Heated Exchange: Leaving Readers Satisfied For Now

Discover the Heated Exchange/Pulp Friction Series....

The Aristocrat and His Servant

The Aristocrat and his Servant 
A Rake in London Series, Book One
Lime Tree Press
Historical M/M Short Story
Buy at ARe

Pulp Friction: Heated Exchange…Leaving you Satisfied For Now

Gavin, Baron Stephenson is an aristocrat accustomed to taking his pleasures where he will, but he always comes home to his oldest friend, his dearest lover, his servant Marcus. 

The Aristocrat & His Servant is a 5,500-word erotic story of lovers indulging in light-hearted banter and little afternoon frolic. This is Book One in a Series recounting the sensual adventures of Baron Stephenson and his lover, Marcus Jennings. 

Contains explicit, consensual sex. Not for those under 18 years of age.

Teaser Excerpt:

The heavy velvet bed curtains muffled the noises in his chamber, but Gavin found himself dragged into wakefulness just the same, although he'd had all too few hours of sleep. He kept his eyes closed, attempting to keep hold of the tempting visions that had anointed his sleeping hours. He'd stumbled home as the sun rose in the sky, ebullient and more than a little tipsy after a night of cards in the gambling hells of London with his friends. Lady Luck had smiled upon him the night before in more ways than one. He'd come home with pockets full of coin, and a handful of scraps of paper that proved that luck at the card tables didn't of necessity mean no luck in the boudoir.

Yawning, Gavin reluctantly left behind sensual dreams of guinea gold curls and liquid blue eyes, of plump rosy lips wrapped around his aching length. Dreaming of the young man who'd lost hand after hand of cards to him the night before was hardly satisfying, not when he had the means to achieve a much more solid sort of repayment of the debt at hand. Stretching, Gavin kicked aside the thin bed covers. His fine lawn nightshirt rode up, baring his thighs and throbbing erection to the air. He didn't recall undressing the night before, and rather hoped he'd managed to do more than drop his clothing in a pile on the floor. Marcus never liked it when he was careless, and he'd be in for a few difficult moments if he'd destroyed any of his clothing in his drunken state. It wasn't the location of his garments that brought him awake though. It was the whereabouts of those all-important bits of paper.

The burgundy velvet drapes rattled as they were pulled aside. "Good afternoon, My Lord." Jennings's ruthlessly cheery voice pried his eyelids open and Gavin let go of the remnants of his dream seduction. Bright searing light from opened windows declared the accuracy of Marcus's assertion. It was indeed past noon. Squinting into the appalling light, Gavin spied his clothes neatly draped upon a brocade chair by the fireplace. His winnings appeared to be heaped upon the side table next to the chair, near a stub of a candle in a silver holder, an empty port decanter and a half-filled glass. Relieved, he turned his head from the sunlight streaming through the windows. Marcus had a bit of a cruel streak that surfaced at inopportune moments. No, not cruel, perhaps he'd be better to say his lover's sense of humor was just a bit off. Ordinarily he'd have chided the man for his mirth, but this day... He was inclined to allow his oldest friend his prank, especially as last night's drinking left him muzzy headed. He'd had just enough it seemed to make him malleable without causing the devilish headache of overindulgence. The young man from the gambling hell with his sweet limbs and complete innocence of the wicked ways of the ton would be his soon enough. Meanwhile, there were more urgent matters to take care of.

"Jennings," he paused, letting his desire show, revising the formality of his approach. The man might be his valet and trusted personal servant, but more than that, he was Marcus, Gavin's first lover, best friend and most cherished companion. "Marcus. Attend me." His voice was a combination of hoarse lust and alcohol induced huskiness that grated on his own ears, but Marcus didn't seem to mind. Twisting sinuously on the silky sheets, Gavin dragged a finger up the thick vein on the underside of his cock, smiled at his valet's sharp intake of breath, and stretched again, arching his back until his vertebrae cracked.


A Debt of Honor: Collected

A Debt of Honor: Collected
A Heated Exchange Series, Book Two
Pulp Friction
Lime Tree Series
Historical/Regency M/M Short Story
Buy at ARe

Having won a sum of money at the gambling tables, Gavin, Baron Stephenson, is anxious to collect on the debt. He suspects that Bernard St. John hasn’t the funds to pay, and intends to offer the man a method of settling up that he hopes will satisfy them both.

WARNING: This 5,000 word short story, the second in a series detailing the amorous adventurous of a Rake of the London aristocracy, contains a touch of dishonor, a smattering of blackmail, a healthy dose of homoerotica, and a not so innocent victim.

Teaser Excerpt:

He ought to have been inert, unable, after the thorough romp he'd indulged in with Marcus. "Bernard Augustus St. John." He whispered the name almost reverently. The fulsome youth from Madame's gaming hell was set to arrive by quarter past, and Gavin had every reason to hope, based upon certain flirtatious repartee, that a most amicable arrangement could be made for the repayment of the debt the younger man had incurred. 

"Pardon?" His secretary gazed at him, an auburn eyebrow lifted in inquiry. 
"Ah. Martens. Last eve I had occasion to win a great sum off a gentleman at a gambling hell. He will be arriving shortly to make payment. It would be politic if you would make yourself scarce while we come to terms. It wouldn't do to embarrass the man." 

"As you wish, sir." The man's smooth countenance, high cheekbones auburn hair and freckles didn't appeal at all to Gavin, though he had no trouble understanding what attraction the whip thin frame had for Marcus, and there was no denying the intelligence and humor in the pretty blue eyes. The man knew how to dress, too. His neat suit was of understated black, his linens pure white, fine quality. Discreet, not too expensive for his station in life, nor cheap. A knowledgeable spark, a fleeting expression of comprehension, appeared then vanished. 

Gavin paused. The secretary couldn't possibly suspect the terms of payment that Gavin wished to enact, could he? Breaking eye contact dismissively, Gavin retrieved a key from the top drawer of his desk and unlocked the lowest drawer. Far at the back, behind a false panel, was a small, thin leather bound ledger in which he kept account of his gambling debts. Letting his fingers rest on the volume, he watched Martens intently. Nodding, the man wandered back to his own smaller desk with the signed letters and set about sanding, folding and sealing them. 

A sharp rap came on the door. 

"Come." A shiver rippled through him at the evocative word, and he castigated himself for the unlikely reaction. 

The butler announced Bernard's presence, and stepped aside, ushering the young man into the room. Gavin nodded significantly at Martens, who gathered the letters and a small leather and gilt bound volume from his own desk. "I'll post these, sir. It's my afternoon away. I'll be in Green Park, if you have a need of me, my lord."

Gavin rose from his seat and crossed to the young man who hovered in front of his desk. Last night his cheeks had been flushed, eyes sparkling with enjoyment and drink. This afternoon his features were as finely drawn, but his skin was ashen and his brows drawn down. Ah, his father has indeed refused to part with the ready! Gavin smiled pleasantly; a warm tide of arousal washed over him. "Please be seated. May I get you a drink? Port? Whiskey?"

If possible the boy went even paler. For certain his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed rapidly. "No, thank you." The words were choked out. His blue-eyed gaze darted about, and then landed on a chair angled to face the desk. St. John sank into it and gripped the arm rests tightly. 

Gavin leaned against his desk, crossed his ankles. He didn't care at all that the position stretched the fabric of his trousers tight across his groin, lovingly outlining the burgeoning erection he made no effort to quell. "Well then," he began. "I hold your vowels for the sum of not quite two thousand pounds, cub."


A Visit to His Tailor

A Visit to his Tailor
A Heated Exchange Series, Book Three
Lime Tree Press
Historical/Regency M/M Short Story
Buy at ARe

Having triumphed with his blackmail attempt, Gavin rejoins his beloved manservant to recount his adventure only to find that the man is intent on a sartorial make-over. The trip to the tailor is just the start of an all new erotic adventure for the lovers. 

WARNING: This Regency era short story contains homoerotic sex acts, sounding, voyeurism and just a touch of yearning for a different world.

Teaser Excerpt:

After seeing his visitor to the door, Gavin Stephens spun about and raced for the marble staircase. He could feel the silly smile stretching his lips, but couldn't rein it in. His heart was light, his soul at peace. The clatter of his Hessians on the marble drummed a counterpoint to the beat of his heart as he loped upward, anxious to share his afternoon with Marcus. The scent of Bernard still clung to him, the taste of his seed lingered in his mouth. His hand sliding along the mahogany banister tingled with the remembered feel of Bernard's skin and his fingers itched to tangle those golden curls again. And he would, at the theater. 

The door of his chambers stood open, indicating Marcus was present. Clearly the man's efforts at seduction had been less fruitful than Gavin's. Almost he could feel sympathy, but the urge to twit his best friend over his obviously inferior seduction technique was too good to pass up. Never certain what direction his confessions might take when shared with Marcus, Gavin shut and locked the door behind him. He made his way quietly across the sitting room's carpeted floor, thinking he might catch Marcus in some lewd or mischievous act. 'Twas another of the games they often played with one another. On the way, he scooped up a crystal decanter of fine French brandy that Marcus seemed to be able to keep in steady supply despite the embargo against importing goods from France during war time.

He pressed his ear to the bedroom door, but couldn't make out any noises beyond it. Carefully, Gavin twisted the knob and let the door swing open. Entering his chambers, Gavin found his valet and lover, Marcus, standing with his arms crossed in the center of the room. He appeared to be in deep thought frowning at a selection of waistcoats draped over the bed. Silently placing the decanter on a chest of drawers by the door, Gavin slipped up behind the man and covered his eyes playfully. "Guess who?" He demanded softly, thrusting his hips to grind his groin against Marcus's backside. 

"My lord." Marcus answered without hesitation. 

"Guess again," he teased. 

Snorting, Marcus grabbed his hands and tugged them away, pulling Gavin around to steal a kiss. A teasing smile danced about his lips. "Think you that I cannot recognize that cologne? Or the faintest hint of that oriental oil that clings still to the palm of your hand?" 

Flushing, Gavin sniffed his ungloved hand delicately. "It does rather cling, but as I find it stimulating, I will not complain." His lips tingled from their kiss and he wound his fingers in his lover's hair to pull him into another. Marcus acceded to his seduction, opening his mouth to suck in Gavin's tongue with a hungry moan. Their tongues dueled, twining together, sliding over slick teeth. Gavin stretched up on tiptoe, clenching his hands on Marcus's shoulders, hips twisting against the rising evidence of his valet's urges.

He drew back and gazed into stormy eyes. "I take it you are having no luck seducing my lovely secretary?"

Marcus frowned, pushed Gavin toward the bed. "He's either a complete innocent or a complete blockhead." 

"Well, he's not a complete blockhead. The fellow is very astute with figures." He ducked his head to the side and added, "Perhaps he just doesn't find your figure appealing?" 



Coming April 30th, 2013....the next chapter in Engagement at the Theater

Author's All Romance Page

6/07/2013

June 7






It's Naughty Nursery Rhymes Month at my publisher 


Don't let the fancy dress fool you. This is an erotic contemporary m/m romance even though it's based on a child's nursery rhyme. 

It's strictly for adults! 

6/06/2013

Crawl in Bed With Parker Williams



Crawling Into Bed With Parker Williams
And a Good Book

Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
Cotton, definitely. As a vegan I won't touch silk. So take off those underwear.

*gasp* Hey! Your hands are cold! Don't...What are you wearing?

Seeing as how I'm crawling into bed with you? Anything more than a smile is simply a waste of time.


*swallows hard* Predatory...Where's that lion tamer's whip? What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?

 I had brought some fruit and crackers, but you look tastier. I'll get back to you on that after I partake of all the delicacies laid out before me.


*blinks* Um...You want to borrow my glasses? Cuz...uh, I think you aren't seeing clearly.  If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?

That depends. If it's the top one, you're going to find the dogs play things. If you open the bottom drawer you'll find my play things. (Which isn't nearly as exciting as it sounds, believe me.)

Uh huh. *sneaks a peak* I thought so. Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?

 If I'm going to be warm in bed, it's only going to be by body heat. I love snuggling up in the cool weather. I hate being too warm.

Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?

 Oh, go for it! If it cools me off, I'm happy.

What are we reading?  500 Miles by Parker Williams is my debut story. It comes out tomorrow, 6/7/13 from MLR Press.




When I was fourteen I fell in love with an older man. It wasn’t any one thing that made me
fall in love. In fact, I can’t even tell you when I realized it. When I started
high school he was there for me. He helped me in ways that no one else would.
He laughed at my jokes. He was playful. He never seemed to mind having me
around. He even ate lunch with me, despite the fact people gave him funny
looks. His name was Jason, but everyone called him Jase.


Jase was my brother Eric’s best friend and he was perfect in my eyes. He was poised,confident, friendly. He never treated me like a kid, even though I was three
years younger than he was. Jase always tried to include me in on plans they
had, sometimes over Eric’s protests. They’d made arrangements to go to a
baseball game and Jase wanted me to come along, but Eric whined about it. “I
don’t need my little brother tagging along every time we go somewhere.”

Jase chuckled. “He’s not going to be your little brother forever, dude. When he gets older do you really want him to remember how you treated him? I’d give my left nut to have what you do. Let him come along, okay?”


I heard Eric grumbling, but eventually he gave in. He always did. Jase was just that
convincing and it was one more thing about him I loved. I mean, really, what
wasn’t to love? Jase was taller than me, I was kinda scrawny at five-feet-six-inches, a good six inches shorter than he was. I was lucky to weigh in at one-hundred-ten, he was a bulky one-eighty. He kept his dark hair buzzed close to the scalp, which made his forest green eyes pop out. My hair was a boring brown and my eyes were like mud. Is it any wonder I worshiped this man? God, I was going to miss him.


Visit Parker at his blog

Crawl in Bed With Lou Sylvre

Crawling Into Bed With
Lou Sylvre
And a Good Book

Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?

I’m glad you asked! These sheets are heavy silk, hand died and woven by Sonny James himself. (Oh, if you don’t know who that is, well, he’s the husband of Luki Vasquez, the James half of Vasquez and James in the series of the same name. He does beautiful work, I’m sure you’ll agree. These blues are exquisite.

What are you wearing?

Umm… well, can we just say yards and yards of cotton with a little lace… floral kind of thing going on… oh, my. Embarrassed…

What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?

Delicious, red-freckled, yellow Rainier cherries, fully ripe, juicy and sweet. They are my little way to thank you for crawling into bed with me and letting me talk about my book.

If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?

A packet of old love letters, scented with the cologne my lover and partner wore; a formal portrait of her and me—in which she is smiling and I look slightly worried; amigurumi Angry Birds; and a crystal flute. At least that’s what’s on top. Also a poem by e e Cummings—anyone lived in a pretty how town; a candle and matches, and some… things that might be best left to the imagination.

Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?

No burrito, but I might burrow if it’s cold. Generally, probably more off than on. I won’t hog them, if that’s got you worried!

Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?

Oh, yes, please! I don’t get cold easy, and I want you to be comfortable. It’ll probably even feel nice.

What are we reading? 

We’re reading my latest release in the Vasquez and James series I mentioned above. The series is suspense, and this title is Finding Jackie. It’s available at Dreamspinner Press Store, here: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3812, though you can also get it at Amazon, B&N, All Romance ebooks, and Rainbow ebooks to mention a few.

In this book, Luki Vasquez and Sonny James get married—have a wonderful wedding in Hawaii, but things go really wrong when Luki’s nephew goes missing. I’ll share with you this little bit. They’re in the middle of their search for Jackie, and they’re tired, and maybe discouraged, but they have each other for comfort.

Coffee became necessary before they made it to Lincoln, two hours east on I-80. A lot of the scenery along the stretch was flat and bland, and when the sun set, Luki actually dozed. He was glad Sonny was younger than him, though he would never admit it. He was also glad Sonny was so good behind the wheel, and that Kaholo’s old truck was what Sonny had called a “good runner.” This would not be a good time to have the engine break down, or the tire go flat, or the driver fall asleep at the wheel.
When he opened his eyes and sat up, trying to stretch within the confines of the seat belt, Sonny looked at him and asked, “You okay?”
He nodded and bit his lip. He hadn’t often been asked that in his life, especially not while more or less working, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He knew he had let love and smiles chip away at his armor, but he knew the hour was coming—soon—when he would need his ice and steel. And when that time came, it would be life and death. For some reason, he saw in his mind a vision of Bear’s snout, black lips drawn back in a snarl that showed inches of sharp fang. He thought to himself, Okay, yes, my protector Bear, and my other protector, St. Christopher, I should be all right. And then there was Sonny, the man who cared the most, and for whom, directly or indirectly, all Luki’s chances were taken.
He realized he hadn’t said a word and Sonny probably hadn’t seen him nod. He spoke up. “Yeah, baby, I’m fine. You?”
“Good. Well… okay, at least. If you reach into that bag in front of the console, there, I got you coffee. I dumped sugar in with a bucket loader, so it should be sweet enough, and I got an extra cup on the outside, so it’s probably still warm.”
Luki followed the direction, closing his hand on a tall, warm, paper cup. “My God, baby. I no longer believe you are human. You’re an angel. You’re of the heavenly host. You’re a god, actually.” He wondered how the hell Sonny had stopped the truck, got out and gone into a store, come back and started up again, and he had slept through it all.
“Zeus?” Sonny asked, “Thor? No, I know! Apollo. Right?”
“If that makes you happy, dear.” Luki peered at the window glass. “Damn, I can’t see a bloody thing out there.”
“Unless I miss my guess, there’s nothing out there to see. Just flat stuff, maybe cows.”
“How far are we from Lincoln?”
“I think we have about a half hour.”
“Sweetie, I’m sorry I fell asleep. I should have been helping you stay awake. You’re so tired I can practically see Zs rising from your head.”
Sonny laughed outright at that. “Damn, Luki, you never stop surprising me. When I first met you, I thought you never laughed or joked, never knew anything beautiful, and didn’t have the faintest idea of what it meant to care for someone. I was so wrong.” He switched his left signal on, and what Luki saw of Sonny’s face in the flashing light told him he was right—Sonny had nearly reached the point of exhaustion. As Sonny smoothly pulled into the left lane and passed a semi without speeding up or slowing down, he went on. “Yeah I’m tired, honey, but please don’t be sorry. I’m really glad I could let you catch up on a few minutes of the hours’ worth of sleep you’ve missed…. Um… Luki? What if…?”
Still fogged with sleep, it took Luki an extra second or so to catch up with Sonny’s sudden change of focus. But, he recovered before Sonny found a way to ask the question he seemed unwilling to ask. “What do you mean, Sonny? What if we don’t find him in Lincoln? That’s a real possibility. It’s a pretty big city, but chances are he’ll be downtown somewhere, if he’s there. Still, ‘downtown’ doesn’t narrow it down much. I guess I’m hoping if we don’t find him, we’ll at least get a lead. Shit, the truth is, I’ve deliberately not been thinking about that possibility. I can’t see past just getting there. You have ideas?”
“No.”
Luki waited for more. When it didn’t come he asked, “Just ‘no’?”
“Yeah, just ‘no’. Sorry. I’m really at a loss at this point. It didn’t seem quite so overwhelming when we were at the Roadhouse, or even Grand Island. But, like you said, Lincoln’s a city. The whole idea of how easy it would be for a kid to disappear there scares me.”
“Yeah,” Luki said, then with an effort, offered assurance. “It’ll be all right, baby. You’ll see. We’ll find Jackie some-fucking-how and bring him home.”

Please include any links you'd like to share with readers.

My blog is at http://www.sylvre.com .
My facebook author page is https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLouSylvre?ref=hl , but you can also find me on my personal page under Lou Sylvre.
On Twitter, I’m known as @Sylvre .
I can be reached by email at lou.sylvre(at)gmail.com .








6/05/2013

New Excerpt for Temptation from Breathless Press

Coming June 7 from Breathless Press and Lee Brazil 

Temptation 


Meeting Solomon again while holding hands with another man wasn't in Lake's plan.
 Neither was anything that happened afterward.



After a hot interlude at a holiday party, Lake Wynters and Solomon Arsdale exchange phone numbers but not promises. Lake is fine with that until something happens he's never experienced. As days pass without Solomon calling, Lake discovers he just can't forget the sexy older man. Giving in to temptation, he takes matters into his own hands and visits Solomon at his office, breaking his own dating rules.
Waiting in Solomon's office, Lake is shaken to the core by how much Solomon's acknowledgement of their encounter means to him, and how much more he wants it to lead to.
But when the door he's eagerly watching opens, it brings new temptation in the form of Adonis Kosmias. Adonis isn't anything like Solomon. Not many would call him beautiful. His features are too harsh, his body too angular. But he moves with fluid grace and his hair falls in perfect waves and his eyes sparkle with warmth. From the first touch of his hand Lake is thrown into even greater confusion. So distracted by Adonis's touch is he, that when Solomon finally makes an appearance, their hands are still clasped.


EXCERPT 

I'm Lake Wynters, I reminded myself as I paced, keeping an eye on the massive oak door that stood stalwart between me and the man I'd come to see. The secretary tried to make me sit, even offered me a copy of a news magazine to read. I think my blank look surprised her. She wanted me to sit in that plush but horrible amber colored chair and wait quietly for Solomon to decide whether my claim to friendship was a lie. I sort of was, and I sort of wasn't. But that wasn't why I paced.
And it wasn't because I wasn't sure if my pants would crease or fuzz would stick to my butt either. I just couldn't be still. It was unbelievable how much my existence seemed to hinge on his decision to acknowledge me. So I paced around the soft brown carpet, from the window that overlooked the parking lot and a very distant view of the sparkling waters of the ocean, to the chair. The door didn't open, even though it felt like it must have been a half hour since she'd called through and his deep voice had asked for a few minutes.
He's going to remember me, he's going to see me; he's going to be glad I came. He wouldn't have given me his number otherwise, would he? I wanted to believe that so badly. Because I wanted to see him. I didn't want to get brushed off. Why wouldn't he want to see me again? I was pretty...we would look great together, and I'd already proven to him that I knew what the fuck I was doing. That thought had me cursing silently as my cock stirred a bit. Okay—no remembering the blow job in the vestibule.
Just remember the indulgent smile. The way his hand closed around the number written on his palm. The way his thumb wiped the tiny drop of semen from the corner of my mouth. Yeah, those were the things I needed to remember, the things that said more than getting off for fun, the things that said maybe what we'd had meant a little something more.
Every little sound fell on my ears like a blast from a car horn, from the coiffured secretary's hands clattering on the keyboard to the hushed slur of paper in the printer. Wearing me down, tearing at the confidence I'd mustered in order to come here today.
I wanted to double-check my appearance, run to the nearest restroom and check my makeup, the shine on my boots, the cut of my jeans. I wanted to tell her to forget it, to run out and get my hair done, buy new boots, new jeans, anything to chase away the doubt this man created in me.
I was on edge and I didn't like it. I didn't like being here. I didn't like that he hadn't called me. Why hadn't he called me?
Everyone always calls me.
Not Solomon Ardale. I closed my eyes and his face hovered there in front of me, dark, solemn eyes, strong smooth jaw. The bold, aquiline nose I'd kissed playfully two weeks ago, the thick dark brows I'd traced with my fingers.
The moist hot mouth that had captivated me with one swift brutal kiss before he'd pushed me aside. Had he tasted himself in that kiss? Certainly his taste lingered in my mouth. That flavor was so imprinted in my memory that I could savor its echoes today, the blend of salt and sweet and bitter, smooth and slick against my teeth, my tongue.
But he left me there, mouth hanging open, clutching the little white business card he'd given me after I wrote my number in eye liner in the palm of his hand.
He hadn't called.
Not to ask me to dinner, or the theater, or a movie.
He wasn't even interested in a repeat performance.
Why did it fucking matter? I didn't think he was in love with me. I didn't expect him to even like me overly much. After all, a half an hour at a party isn't much to base affection on.
And yet, here I was, wasting prime holiday shopping time sitting in a stuffy office hoping to see someone I'd only met once.
The door behind me clicked and I spun around, expecting to see Solomon, but instead it was a younger man, handsome in his own way, but leaner with a darker appearance. That explained why Solomon hadn't admitted me right away. He was with someone. The relief I felt made me a little wobbly in my heels, but I smiled at the newcomer, letting my suddenly lighter spirit show. Maybe I smile too much for the camera and it came off as flirty instead of friendly, because one arched brow rose high and I nearly giggled. It made him look very much like an inquiring Vulcan and less wicked than I'd first thought.
He looked me over slowly, extending a hand in greeting. "You're Lake Wynters?"
I accepted his hand, squeezing gently, just as my behavior coach had taught me. "I am. You'll get used to it. It's my real name. My parents were wannabe hippies. I had to get over it, just one of many things." Jesus, why was I babbling? More to the point, why did this man's dry, firm touch send goose bumps up my arm?
"Will I? Get used to it, I mean?" He smiled a little, just the tiniest quirk of his lips, but I felt at ease suddenly.
"I think so. At least, I hope so. And you are?" I wanted to put a name to a face that I would surely remember for a long time. I had the feeling we could be friends, maybe more than friends.
"I'm Adonis Kosmias. Alas, my parents were also enamored of odd names." He smiled fully now, white teeth gleaming between full dark lips.
"Adonis?" He seemed to find the name amusing, but it sounded nice to me. So did the husky note in his voice and the gentle laugh that came as he recognized my confusion.
"He's the Greek god of beauty and desire. Come in, Solomon will see you now." I realized our hands were still clasped, though neither of us made any pretense at shaking and felt my neck and ears flame instantly. I blushed. I'd be walking in to see Solomon with my ears and cheeks flaming red. So much for appearing sophisticated and debonair. My cover, such as it was, was blown.
But, the Greek god of beauty and desire? Yeah... I could understand his laughter. Not many would call this man beautiful. His features were too harsh, his body too angular for beauty. But he moved with fluid grace and his hair fell in perfect waves and his eyes sparkled with such warmth.
His touch distracted me from Solomon, who was now willing to see me. On the other side of the door I'd been obsessed with just minutes earlier.
The door opened before I remembered that I could tug my hand out of his grip and didn't need to wait for him to release it. So, what the man I'd dreamed about for two weeks saw when I stepped into his office, was me holding hands with another man.

6/04/2013

Interview at Sharing Links and Wisdom


A few weeks ago my publisher, Breathless Press, asked me to participate in a promotional blitz. 

I was privileged to do an interview for Sharing Links and Wisdom

Here's an excerpt 

R2R: Where did you come up with the idea for your new book?
LOL. There was this meme circulating on Facebook, (When isn’t there?) And it was about a serial killer in the kitchen. I laughed so hard when I saw it, that I knew I had to expand on it.
To read the full interview please click HERE







It's Naughty Nursery Rhymes Month at my publisher 


Don't let the fancy dress fool you. This is an erotic contemporary m/m romance even though it's based on a child's nursery rhyme. 

It's strictly for adults! 

Interview at Sharing Links and Wisdom


A few weeks ago my publisher, Breathless Press, asked me to participate in a promotional blitz. 

I was privileged to do an interview for Sharing Links and Wisdom

Here's an excerpt 

R2R: Where did you come up with the idea for your new book?
LOL. There was this meme circulating on Facebook, (When isn’t there?) And it was about a serial killer in the kitchen. I laughed so hard when I saw it, that I knew I had to expand on it.
To read the full interview please click HERE







It's Naughty Nursery Rhymes Month at my publisher 


Don't let the fancy dress fool you. This is an erotic contemporary m/m romance even though it's based on a child's nursery rhyme. 

It's strictly for adults! 

6/03/2013

New Release: Temptation- M/M/M Menage from Breathless Press

Coming June 7 from Breathless Press and Lee Brazil 

Temptation 


Meeting Solomon again while holding hands with another man wasn't in Lake's plan.
 Neither was anything that happened afterward.



After a hot interlude at a holiday party, Lake Wynters and Solomon Arsdale exchange phone numbers but not promises. Lake is fine with that until something happens he's never experienced. As days pass without Solomon calling, Lake discovers he just can't forget the sexy older man. Giving in to temptation, he takes matters into his own hands and visits Solomon at his office, breaking his own dating rules.
Waiting in Solomon's office, Lake is shaken to the core by how much Solomon's acknowledgement of their encounter means to him, and how much more he wants it to lead to.
But when the door he's eagerly watching opens, it brings new temptation in the form of Adonis Kosmias. Adonis isn't anything like Solomon. Not many would call him beautiful. His features are too harsh, his body too angular. But he moves with fluid grace and his hair falls in perfect waves and his eyes sparkle with warmth. From the first touch of his hand Lake is thrown into even greater confusion. So distracted by Adonis's touch is he, that when Solomon finally makes an appearance, their hands are still clasped.


6/02/2013

Crawl in Bed June Schedule

Good morning readers! 

This month's Crawl in Bed Schedule is ready and boy have we got some great guests! 

Mark your calendar and stop by on Thursdays this month! 


Authors, if you'd like the opportunity to Crawl in Bed With me....

Just send an email to lee.brazil@ymail.com 

Currently Booking slots for July and August 2013.








M/M/M Contemporary Ménage from Breathless Press

Meeting Solomon again while holding hands with another man wasn't in Lake's plan. Neither was anything that happened afterward.

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