Story Orgy Creature Feature: Mum's the Word Part 12 #storyorgy #creaturefeature #mmromance

Good morning friends and readers!
Welcome back to Monday with Story Orgy. Ready to see what happens next?

Mum's the Word

Chapter Twelve
Oct 19: It was all he expected.

The creep factor in the hallway increased a thousand fold after Owen left. And how that had even happened, Izzy couldn’t quite explain. Big blue eyes… Head jerks… then “I’m going to pee”, and voila.
Izzy was left holding the flashlight for a man who wasn’t seeming quite so sexy any more. One who had apparently decided that with Owen away, Izzy was…
Now why would he think that?
Because you met him at a bar?
Flirted with him in the library?
Made eyes at him and --
“Urg.” He choked on his own thoughts and self-consciously inched away from the professor.
“Did you say something?” Micahn Gregoire looked up from the door he’d been trying to unlock.
“Uh… no. Sorry.”
“Perhaps you could shine the light a little closer. This lock… The key doesn’t seem to match.” Finding the right key for most of the doors hadn’t been any trouble because they were meticulously labeled.
Izzy directed the beam over the professor’s shoulder, annoyed that the action required that he move closer. Standing this close to Owen had stirred his senses, but having caught a chilling expression in the professor’s eyes earlier, the professor’s proximity just made his skin crawl.
“Ah…” Door released as tumblers fell into place audibly. The professor rose, grabbed Izzy’s arm and tugged him into the room, closing the door behind them in one abrupt, shocking movement. The flashlight tumbled from his grip to land somewhere on his left, beam directed uselessly at the wall beside him. “Where’s your friend?”
“He… uh…” Izzy glanced around frantically. The room was dark, his flashlight beam was still aimed low… “Went to the bathroom.”
“Good.” The professor breathed, stooping slightly to whisper directly into Izzy’s ear. “I don’t trust him. That boy is up to something. He’s not like us, Izzy.”
“Uh…” Izzy jerked backward, running immediately into the wall. “He’s--”
“What were you two really doing here, Izzy?” Gregoire crowded closer rudely, in a movement that could have been interpreted as sexy by a viewer, but for Izzy, looking into those thinly slitted dark eyes, there was no mistaking it for anything but what it was. A threat.
“Oh…” He wiggled a little, trying to escape and to come up with some believable excuse for their presence. “We were just passing.”
“Just passing?”
Izzy stopped moving. Surely… the professor’s accent had disappeared. He now spoke crisply in a completely unaccented English. “Just passing.” He placed both hands on the professor’s barrel chest, braced his back on the wall and shoved.
The professor fell back but recovered himself smoothly. “I don’t believe you. You’re a terrible liar, Izzy.”
Stifling the cowardly impulse to pretend he hadn’t noticed that slip in the man’s accent, Izzy gathered his courage and spoke. “You’re a pretty good one though.”
“Ah.” All pretense of amiability and flirtation were stripped away, as though that one word had been a disguise that the man shed. “I had rather hoped you hadn’t noticed that. Too bad.”
Wincing, Izzy wished the door would open up behind him and free him from this position, trapped between the door and a suddenly not so veiled threatening presence. “I can’t believe you’re a fraud.”
Where the hell was Owen? Pissing shouldn’t take this long!
“Fraud?” Gregoire stepped back, giving Izzy just enough room to duck under his arm and dart across the room to a place that might not have been any safer, but at least put some distance between him and the unknown. “That’s not how I’d put it.”
“Well, how would you put it?” Izzy demanded, covertly seeking something to use as a weapon if Gregoire got too close again. Seemed like since this was a museum storage room there should be potential weapons everywhere… knives, axes, pipes, candlesticks, ropes… But here in his own personal hell of a Clue game, there were only black shadows and vague shapes, which from his personal experience most likely contained correspondence or trinkets.
“Oh for the love of Mike. Quit looking for something to clobber me with.” There was the sound of something scraping on something, a little quiet thumping… then the overhead light came on, blinding Izzy with its dim glare.
He blinked rapidly, unwilling to trust Gregoire when he couldn’t see him. Reaching behind him and praying that he’d come up with something useful, he grabbed the first thing he could wrap his hand around. His heart pounded furiously, and it seemed to take forever for his vision to adjust. His ears strained to catch any more signs of movement, any indications that Gregoire was coming closer, moving in for the kill maybe.
“Sorry about the lights.”
Said lights glinted on something metal as Gregoire extended his arm. Izzy didn’t stop to think, just reacted. It might be a gun or a knife, either way… He swung his own weapon over hand, pegging Gregoire in the face with whatever it was.
“Aurgh.” The man staggered, reached for a shelf to upright himself, and instead sent it toppling towards himself. Izzy scrambled backward, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness in time to see the shelf full of what looked to be civil war battlefield relics topple.
fascinated, like watching a game of Mousetrap in slow motion, he watched one cannon ball roll down, chasing a canteen and a leather satchel as the slid toward Gregoire, who had regained his balance, somewhat.
“What the hell?” The man wiped at his forehead, examining a streak of blood on his hand, unaware of the impending attack. He glanced from the blood to Izzy, frowning. “Why did you… What did you throw at me?”
Izzy pointed to the floor, shrugging. He didn’t know what it was. Whatever it had been, it had his undying gratitude, because the professor no longer appeared to have a weapon. He must have dropped the gun or knife when Izzy’s mystery object struck him.
Gregoire’s head followed Izzy’s finger, and the first object from the shelf struck him in the back of the head, followed in rapid succession by the rest, ending with the cannon ball which had gained enough momentum that when it contacted Gregoire’s skull it did so with a loud, resounding crack.
Gregoire crumpled to the ground with a faint moan and lay silent. Izzy relaxed enough to realize he’d been holding his breath.
“That was truly fortuitous.” He glanced up at the ceiling and addressed a deity he’d never been really sure existed, but had been dragged to church enough by his suburban parents to feel too guilty to completely ignore. “Thank you. I…”
“Oh…” The man on the floor stirred and Izzy decided prayers of gratitude could wait.  He had to get out of here and find Owen and then really get the fuck out of here.
He kept as much distance between the fallen professor and himself as he could, but the man was in front of the door, so he had no choice but to step over him. It was midstep, with one foot poised over Gregoire’s knee that he saw what must have been in the man’s hand. A gleam of gold on the floor a few feet away caught his eye.
His heart sank and Izzy returned to his original position, bending down to scoop up the leather and metal. He knew though, that he was in a boatload of trouble even as he squinted to read it.
Gregoire was a cop. Undercover.
And Izzy had assaulted him.

If you enjoyed my post, click on over to the rest of the Orgiasts and read more! 

Crawl in Bed With Corin Talovich of the Avanti Chronicles #characterinterview #mmromance #sciencefiction

Crawling Into Bed with Corin Talovich
And a Good Book Avanti Chronicles: Corin’s Chance

Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
Actually neither! They are made from Daresh fibers, from the local farms in the Derin Clan. They are kind of a cross between flannel and cotton. They are super soft, warm and very cozy to snuggle up in with a good man, or a good book.

What are you wearing?
I’m wearing sleep pants. They are loose, with a drawstring waist, cream and made from Paverino. Paverino is even softer than Daresh. More flannel-like. They are my favorite ones when all I want to do is spend a lazy day or time in bed. It’s quite warm here at the moment, so I’m bare chested. No doubt if Kel catches sight of me like this he’ll scowl at being half naked in bed with another man. Stupid man should know I only have eyes for him… Sorry!

What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?
Several things. Firstly Halicane. It’s a sweet flower that people in the clan often snack on. It has slightly chewy leaves that eventually dissolve leaving a burst of flavor on your tongue. Then we have Axrin fruit. These are really juicy and remind me of Terran strawberries. To go with them we have Purin cream which is quite tart, but the combination is amazing. We also have Lowrin fruit pie. That’s similar to peaches and works well with the Purin cream.
So it’s definitely a night for sweet treats.

If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?
Uh… Well there will be a couple of bottles of oil that we use for… well you know! I do keep one of our plasma guns in there. Kel hates that. He’s all big and macho and gets annoyed because he thinks that I don’t believe he can protect me. Stupid man. But I like to know that I can protect him too. I’m nowhere near his standard with swords, so this is what I feel more comfortable with.
The drawer also has one of our spare datapads in it. It’s great that even though we are on a world that doesn’t embrace technology the same way as people in the Barin Alliance do, I can still keep my datapad and use it to curl up with a good book. Plus it’s great to use for music.
Lastly there is a tiny med kit, as I’m never far from one. There’s a big one in our chest at the bottom of the bed, but I find with Kel and all the guys from the Avanti, I need one near me at all times. It’s hard work being the doctor for this clan.

Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?
Roll up like a burrito. I love feeling cocooned in bed and on the nights that Kel is late to bed, I find it easier to sleep that way, as though the blankets take his place.

Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?
Yeah, I’m used to it! Kel has the coldest feet ever. Every night without fail I get the cold feet on calves treatment. Drives me crazy. Those feet of his are freezing, I swear that man soaks them in ice before coming to bed!

What are we reading? Avanti Chronicles: Book One
Corin’s Chance by Hannah Walker

MM Sci Fi Romance

Posted to some star's awful cruiser, Dr. Corin Talovich hoped to serve his time quietly and get on with his life, but fate stepped in and decided otherwise.
Crashing into an unknown planet was the last thing Corin expected. With only his friend, Lieutenant Commander Tate Riven, by his side, they face the unexplored world and new enemies bravely, leading them to the Derin Clan, where they’re welcomed by the leader’s son.
Kel isn't sure about the strange men, but he isn't about to send them away, especially when the bond between Corin and himself is something he can't ignore.
When another clan wages an attack, Kel is forced to make some hard choices which nearly costs him everything he holds dear. Together, with their allies, Corin and Kel fight, focusing on the future they desire, knowing failure not only dooms their love, but also those around them. Side by side, they work to destroy the evil threatening to keep them apart and becoming the family both men desire.

May your journey be swift and uneventful, may you all get one step closer to your truemates and may good triumph over evil. Remember love conquers all.

With a nod to one of the four guards at the door's entrance, Carn led them into the room. Following behind him, they walked right up to the massive table sat at the end of the room. Around the table were stood six men, ranging in age from late teens to mid-sixties. They all looked weary and haggard, their bodies drooping where they stood. Maps, paperwork and cups littered the table in front of them. 
One of them turned to Carn who was standing at the front of Corin’s group. “Damn it, Carn, I told you we weren't to be disturbed for anything. I don't care who the latest bloody delegate from the Alliance is. Now is not the time.” A huge frown accompanied the man’s words.
“Laird Kel, these aren't delegates. I think you are going to want to hear this. They came asking for you as Kel, saying it was about a young girl named Eliya.” Carn cautiously spoke, wary of upsetting any of the men around the table.
All around them heads shot up from what they were focused on. Suddenly every pair of eyes in the room was focused on them with a laser-like intensity.
“What do you know about Eliya?” the man named Kel demanded. Corin’s eyes watched as he stalked towards them. His movements, while predatory, were graceful. He was close to seven feet of solid planes and hard muscles. His skin was a golden bronze which seemed to glisten in the lights around him. His hair was a mid-blonde, and flowed to just past his shoulders. Leather bracers covered his forearms while smaller leather circlets were wrapped around each bicep. Leather trousers were moulded to his thighs. Corin’s heart began to beat faster. Never had a first glance at someone affected him as it did now.
Laird Kelin was rugged in appearance. While still young, his face had a slightly weathered visage which was likely due to many hours spent outdoors. His eyes were both brown and green, with the green bleeding into the brown on the outer edges. He had a strong nose, coupled with a square jaw, and a dusting of facial hair that just added to his overall manliness.
Corin felt his cock go from soft to rock hard and aching instantly. Damn, this was a man he would happily have under him, over him, inside him. In fact, he would take him any which way he could. Tate shot Corin a questioning glance and Corin realised he hadn't been able to hide his reaction from his friend. Shooting a glance at Tate and shaking his head, Corin stepped forward.
“I need to know who you are to Eliya before I can say anything,” Corin boldly stated.
A second later, one of the other men stood around the table jumped over it and was hurtling towards Corin with a look of murderous intent on his face. Just as he got to Corin, he threw a punch that never landed. Instead, Tate stepped between Corin and Eliya, who was still asleep in the sling, and this new man. The punch hit him square in the abdomen. The pain was instantaneous, and he staggered back, all the air gone from his lungs. Tate could feel his stitches rip open from the impact. Trying to suck in a deep breath, he called on all his years of training with the Avanti and pushed the pain into the recesses of his mind and forced his body back to standing whilst simultaneously pulling his knife from the sheath at his side.
“Make another move towards him and I’ll kill you. You want him? You have to go through me first, and I promise you, I. Will. Win. You have no idea what you nearly did there.” Tate growled at the man, his stance wide, both aggressive and defensive at the same time.
“Do you know who I am?” the new man demanded as he bared his teeth at Tate.
“No,” Tate replied. “And frankly, I don't care. Now. Back. The. Fuck. Off.”
They watched as the man named Kel placed a restraining arm across the other man’s chest. “Leave it, Tir, let me deal with this. I mean it. We won't find anything out if we beat them. They came to us willingly. Give them a chance to explain.”
They all watched the man called Tir run his hands over his face before he gave a small nod and took two small steps back.
Kel raised an eyebrow at him, sighed and then turned back to Corin. There were several emotions swirling through his gaze, but his voice was calm when he spoke again. “I am Laird Kelin Tharn, son of the Chieftain of this clan, and Eliya is my niece. Laird Tirathon Tharn is her father. She was kidnapped two weeks ago with her nurse when they were walking the grounds. We have heard nothing since. There have been no ransom demands, no sightings, nothing. We have searched and searched and no trace has yet been found. The entire clan is grief stricken. As you can see, my brother is barely holding it together. Now. What. Do. You. Know.” His voice rose slightly as he struggled not to let his impatience show.
Corin looked at Tate, his eyes registering the fact the Tate looked clammy once again. They nodded to one another and Corin reached up to slowly untie the cloak from around him. He gently lifted the sleeping form of Eliya from the sling before looking up at Kel and quietly asking, “Is this her?”
Gasps echoed all around. A choked sob came from Tir's direction before he quickly lifted her from Corin’s arm, tears streaming down his face. Smiles shone around the room as a small voice whispered, “Papi?”
Quickly, a group surrounded the reunited father and daughter, cheers echoing around the room. A wave of happiness ran through the chamber and out the doors as word passed from one guard to another. Shouts of joy could be heard from the hallways as the news spread. A soft whimper from beside Corin saw him snapping his head to look at Tate.

Hannah Walker is a full-time mum to two gorgeous teenage sons, and shares her home with both them, and a very supportive husband.  They have always encouraged her to follow her dreams.
She has always loved books from her childhood years reading alongside her father, inheriting his love of Sci-Fi and Fantasy. She has combined this with her love of MM romance to write her series Avanti Chronicles. She loves writing about a complex world where the men love, and live, hard.
Welcome to the world of MM Sci-Fi.

Where to find Hannah:

Upcoming books:
Avanti Chronicles book two: Tate’s Torment.
Avanti Chronicles books 3-6.
Avanti Chronicles Shorts 1-3.

Two further series are also planned for the same universe as the Avanti Chronicles.


Story Orgy Creature Feature: Mum's The Word part 11 #storyorgy #mmromance #creaturefeature

Good morning friends and readers!
Welcome back to Monday with Story Orgy. Ready to see what happens next?

Mum's the Word

Chapter Eleven
Oct 12: "Death changes everything."

One promisingly tall lump turned out to be a vacuum cleaner stacked atop a drum set. Another was a dressmaker’s mannequin dressed in a beaded, glittery dress and sporting what Owen’s inexperienced eyes interpreted as a fortune in square cut diamond jewelry.
But none of the twelve rooms down the left side of the hall revealed a cigar store Indian. Nor, to Owen’s immense regret, did they find a mummy or even a sarcophagus hidden in any of the dark corners.
“We should have done this this morning,” He muttered to Izzy. “A quick run through for large objects--”
He froze, staring down to the central hallway over Izzy’s shoulder. A glimmer of light off in the far corner, where it should only be darkness.
The professor had moved across to the opposite side of the hall and a door there.  The fairy light in the hall winked out, then back again. “Izzy… take the flashlight and follow the professor.”
Owen nodded down the hall. Widened his eyes, tried with everything he had in him to convey without words that he wanted to check out the mystery door again. Sadly, Izzy only seemed receptive to psychic conversations that were sexually oriented.
“Yes professor.” Izzy scurried… actually scurried to the professor’s side with the flashlight.
Owen huffed in disgust. “I’ll be right back. I have to go to the restroom.” He didn’t wait for either of them to respond. Stepping out of the circle of the flashlight’s glow gave him second thoughts. But not enough.
“What? No.” Izzy protested, but Owen shook off his reaching hand.
“I’ll be right back. If you find something I’ll help carry it.”
Let Izzy keep the professor on track opening doors that led to rooms full of dusty nothings. Owen was convinced that if there was anything in this building worth finding, then it was worth hiding behind a fake door in a wall hidden behind junk. And clearly someone else thought so too.
But who?
He slipped as quietly as possible down the hall in the dark, out into the wider central hallway. The light in the back was more visible now, a defiant fuck you to the darkness… a siren call to his curious nature.
Back in the corner behind the debris pile they’d investigated that morning, the long thin line of light provided a basis for his investigation. The tools… that was limited to a knock off Swiss army knife he’d thought to bring along. Owen removed the cool bit of metal and plastic from his pocket, and opened it to the thin screw driver blade. Reaching up high, he wedged the blade into the crack and pried it forward. The panel didn’t move.
There had to be a latch somewhere. Even though there was no handle. Leaning close, he studied the crack, looking for the telltale spot of darkness that would give him access.
On the other side, he couldn’t help but notice shadowy movement. It was enough to give him pause, but not enough to stop him. He’d deal with the movement… if and when he got the door open.
Halfway down the wall the screwdriver hit the latch with what sounded like an incredibly loud clink. With the latch released, the door swung inward before he could catch it. Owen stepped into a space more dimly lit than that line of light had indicated.
The sense of motion was explained when he identified the light source as a candle flame. One of those large, thick wax candles with three wicks stood on a wooden crate in the center of the small space. The ones he’d seen before had been scented like vanilla and other perfumey things, but this one was odorless. There wasn’t anything else in the room though. Just that crate, the candle and the flickering flame.
At first he was disappointed, but when his eyes adjusted and he was able to see behind the candle glow into the dim shadows, he was able to pick out something that made his heart race. Almost directly opposite was another door. Other than the shadow there’d been no attempt made to hide this one. It was just as much heavy wood and industrial fixtures as any of the dozen they’d already opened that night.
Only this door boasted a tarnished brass name plate reading Horace Gould Department of Archaeology.
The name was familiar from the letters they’d found.
He glanced over his shoulder. The faintest noises from hall c indicated that Izzy and the professor were still searching room by room. How much time did he have?
Did it matter?
Owen entered the room, one hand holding the door open. He couldn’t leave it open. While it would be good to have Izzy follow him, no way did he want Dr. Gregoire discovering the former head of the archaeology department’s office.
The inside of the door had no handle either.
No matter. He could use his knife to open it again. Cautiously, he let it close and picked up the candle. Too bad he’d given his flashlight to Izzy. The door to the professor’s office wasn’t locked. The knob turned easily and the door made no noise as it glided toward him.
In retrospect that should have given him pause, but by then it was too late.
The candle…
The oiled door hinge…
All of it spoke to him too late.
The pain exploded in the back of his skull seconds after he stepped into the old office, but not before the candle flame flickered over brilliant colors, jeweled enamel and gold.
A sarcophagus. The sarcophagus changed everything.
He’d found it.
The second blow drove him to the floor.
A third struck brutally below his rib cage. Owen sucked in a breath and tried to roll away. He crashed into something, setting off a train reaction of small thuds and earned himself another painful blow. This time his vision blurred.
Out of focus… surely that was a white tennis shoe not a gauze wrapped foot swinging in for a third blow?
He didn’t have time to convince himself before it all went dark. But it had to be a shoe.

It had to be. 

If you enjoyed my post, click on over to the rest of the Orgiasts and read more! 


Musical Must Haves with Our Superheroes #mmromance #malexmale #characterfun

Lee: Hey there everyone! When we were prepping for the Superheroes blog tour, we wound up with a couple of extra interviews. Can't just let that kind of goodness go to waste, can we? So... I’m Lee Brazil, author of A Man of Unusual Talent, and these other people are CC Crane and Mat Giraud, men who inspired that story. Starred in it? Really? Okay. Mat insists on using the word “starred”; he thinks he’s Robert Downey Jr. or something. That other cluster of people over by the coffee pot is Havan Fellows and… I’ll let her introduce those two who are… Yeah. Might not want to interrupt them right now.

Havan: *waves* Hello, Havan here, and these two who are enjoying a heated debate on the pros and cons of best friends and siblings would be Dean Wades and Gavin Trevor, the main characters in my high flying superhero romantic comedy Flyboy’s First Misadventure.

Lee: Anyway, CC and Mat are here today to share a few of their favorite songs with you. *blinks* I’m not sure what Dean and Gavin are here for… putting on a show of a different sort? Anyway, go ahead CC. Tell the people about your favorite songs.

CC: Well, I am a huge music fan, and narrowing this list down to just five songs was nearly an impossible task.
Mat: But we persevered, and came up with a list that we think rocks.
CC: First, no song list is complete without David Bowie’s Lady Stardust. There’s something heroically tragic about the title character, and the narrator.
Mat: CC… you don’t have to rationalize each choice. Just tell them. These are the songs we love.
CC: Okay, also… Tom Petty -Don’t Fade on Me and Steve Miller’s Fly like an Eagle were my must haves.
Mat: And I insisted that any favorites list wasn’t complete without Foreigner’s Hot Blooded or Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’.

Lee: What an awesome playlist! :D Havan? Can you uh…get Dean down from the ceiling so we can hear his favorite songs, too? There’d better be coffee left in that pot!

Havan: Hey, I’m only the author, not the babysitter…jeeze, if these guys did what I wanted them to do the book might be a helluva lot different. *snorts* Now, I’m not the type to listen to music while I write, but this question isn’t for me, is it? Dean? Gav?

Dean: Oh boy, okay, I know I’m not supposed to fess up to this but I’m a Swiftie. Love her new album 1989, so instead of naming songs I’m just throwing the whole darn album out there and saying yes…that.
Gavin: Tia’s in charge of the music when you two are together, isn’t she?
Dean: Yeah *hangs head*…but that doesn’t mean I don’t agree with her on this one. That woman knows her business.
Gavin: I’ll give you that. I’m a little more diverse on my playlist—Love Locked Away by R. City featuring Adam Levine, Adam kills it on that one, Billy Joel’s My Life is personally dedicated to—
Dean: I love those songs too…
Gavin: Censoring me, Dean? Which reminds me, I also like Kansas’s Carry on Wayward Son, and when I’m in a particularly appropriate mood I always tune in to some Three Days Grace, preferably Pain or Animal I Have Become. But on a lighter side Mackelmore and Ryan Lewis’s Thrift Shop…oh my fu—…um…crap it makes me laugh every single time.

Havan: Wow… I wanna say you can learn so much from the music people listen to, but Gavin might’ve stumped me. lmao :)

For more Story Orgy Superhero goodness, our co-writers Hank Edwards and Em Woods will be releasing their books soon. :)

Barnes and Noble   Smashwords    All Romance   Amazon 

Collin Crane is a man of unusual talent. Really unusual. Too weird for the Guinness Book unusual. On the fifty-year plan to a doctoral degree in physics, and a quiet quest to understand his own oddities, Collin clings to obscurity.  This superhero has learned the hard way that it's better to be safe than sorry.
Enter Mathias Giraud, football hero, local cop, and CC's secret fantasy since high school. Mat's a simple man with a hero complex fostered by comic books and Marvel movies. Saving the world is his fantasy, but since his roots are firmly planted in Morrisonville and reality, he'll settle for protecting and serving. Until he clashes with CC at the local convenience store and is reminded of his own high school crush.
When marshmallows are involved, the course of true love is bound to get sticky.

Secrets? Oh yeah, Dean Wades has a doozy. When he goes up, he doesn’t necessarily come back down. Okay, that’s not true. Dean’s a master at falling, it’s the landing that could use improvement—a lot of improvement. After thirteen years of attempting to conquer this gravity defying mystery, he can no longer live with not knowing what he is anymore. So he heads cross-country to see the two people who just might be able to give him the answers he seeks…his folks.
Easygoing Gavin Trevor is always willing to help his family, even when they have ulterior motives…like forcing him to make up with his annoying older brother. When a simple task at his parent’s house puts him in a position of danger, he’ll need a lot more than luck to avoid a serious injury—he’ll need his very own superhero.
And the fates collide, well sort of. It may not be love at first sight—Gavin was unconscious in Dean’s arms for their initial introduction…but perhaps these two men can make it a relationship at first flight?
A threat against Gavin’s family throws a wrench in their plans, and while Dean gladly offers his amateur talent to help the mission, Gavin doesn’t want to put his rescuer’s life in jeopardy by risking exposure of the greatest secret ever.
This proves to be a rescue adventure for the books. Or is that a rescue misadventure?


Story Orgy Creature Feature : Mum's the Word Part Ten #storyorgy #blogstory #mmromance

Good morning friends and readers!
Welcome back to Monday with Story Orgy. Ready to see what happens next?
This week we're going to have an ABUNDANCE of Mum's the Word posts to get caught up...

Mum's the Word
Chapter Ten
Oct 5: It was the smallest of regrets.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Izzy hovered behind Owen, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “What if someone sees us?”
The parking lots were empty, the hedges dark lines hiding the campus.  Anyone could walk by… walk right up to them. They wouldn’t even have to get too close in the bright moonlight to identify Izzy and Owen.
“Why not?” Owen wiggled the heavy exterior door.
That’s all it took to open it, thanks to the strategically placed square of duct tape on the strike plate that Owen had used to tape the latch down.
“Because… law and order are necessary for the successful function of society.”
“Fine.” Owen nodded. “I get it. You wait here and I’ll go see if I can find anything.”
Izzy didn’t even bother glancing around to see if anyone was watching them. “Absolutely not. We stick together.” He repeated the words he’d said that afternoon, but in the light of the full moon, with a chill fall breeze ruffling his too long hair… and in the midst of breaking and entering, it sounded desperate.
A trill of laughter and a high pitched shriek from the left finalized his decision. He scurried after Owen, letting the door close behind him.
Momentum carried him forward, tumbling into Owen, who caught him. The flashlight he’d had in his hand clattered to the ground. “Sh.” Owen put a finger to his lips, silencing Izzy’s instinctive apology.
Immediately his imagination kicked into overdrive. Heart racing, Izzy strained his ears to hear whatever had triggered Owen’s warning. All he heard was the pounding of his own heart… the heavy panting breaths his rapid entrance had caused. “What did you--” His whisper was cut off by Owen’s finger on his lips.
“Sh.” Owen leaned forward, bathing Izzy in his closeness. “There’s someone here who’s not supposed to be.”
Brushing away the seductive influence of whatever Walmart shower gel Owen had selected this week, Izzy focused on a kernel of anger, blowing it into a full-fledged flame to ward off his fear. “Very funny. Haha. It’s us. We’re not supposed to be here.”
“Well, we’re here now.” He pushed ahead, bending to pick up the flashlight Owen had dropped. Poised halfway between the ground and standing he froze. The beam of the light caught on something… glinted off something. About twenty feet down the hall.
“Owen?” he whispered. “Give me your hand.”
Obligingly Owen's hand closed on his shoulder and he felt a moment of relief. That touch was familiar. But if Owen was here… Taking a deep breath for courage and feeling his stomach lurch in protest...Izzy continued his upward path.
The glint disappeared.
The beam of light picked up a lean line of something.
Legs. Pants.
Glinted off a bit of metal
Belt buckle.
Outlined a shirt.
Dark with buttons.
“Who is that?” Izzy whispered to Owen.
“I don’t know.” Owen whispered back.
“Why is he just standing there? Can’t he see us?”
“Or hear us?” Owen added. “Why whisper? There’s no way that person doesn’t know we know they’re here. And--”
“Very good. As you say.” The professor’s voice preceded a burst of light that blinded Izzy.
Fortunately the man’s foreign accent was easily identifiable. “What are you doing here Professor Gregoire?” He asked, rubbing his eyes. Not that it helped clear his vision.
“I might ask you the same thing Izzy.”
“We wanted to keep working tonight.” Owen squeezed Izzy’s shoulder hard, and Izzy bit his lip. “It’s going much slower than we thought.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. In fact, as Owen would no doubt point out, it was very much the truth. They just weren’t here to work to further the professor’s goals.
“And I thought I told you--”
“That you weren’t available tonight.” Owen finished smoothly. “Did your plans fall through?”
Gregoire’s eyes narrowed to thin slits and his lips tightened. “Just so. Since my plans… as you say, fell through. I thought I’d come and put in a few hours of work. I found reference to a wooden cigar store Indian, and thought it might make for an interesting display on the history of tobacco in the new world.”
“A cigar store Indian is pretty big.” Owen, satisfied apparently that Izzy was going to keep quiet, let go his grip on his shoulder. “It’s a good thing we came by. We can help you move it.”
The professor’s expression darkened. His gaze traveled from Izzy to Owen to the door behind them.
Was he going to ask how they’d gotten in?
“Yes. Unfortunately, the documents I located didn’t specify the location of the artifact other than to say that it was stored in the C wing.”
“That explains that then,” Owen nodded. “We didn’t get to that one yet. It’s over here.” He grabbed the flashlight from Izzy and aimed it down the hall. “Let’s get started. Izzy and I’ll check the rooms on the right, you take the ones on the left and we’ll have the cigar store Indian before you know it.”
“I only have one set of keys.” Gregoire rattled the key chain.
“Then we’ll have to work together.”
Izzy followed Owen to hall c, and Gregoire met them there, a sour expression on his face. Had he thought the professor handsome? It seemed impossible now. It was with the smallest regret that he let the professor student fantasy fade.
“You two--”

“Good thing we showed up, huh?” Owen overrode the professor just as he had Izzy earlier. “This will go so much more quickly.”

If you enjoyed my post, click on over to the rest of the Orgiasts and read more! 

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