I invite you to join me and my fellow authors to the FB group MM Fiction Addiction Cafe.
There will be prizes and authors chatting throughout the day!
Blog of bestselling m/m author
I invite you to join me and my fellow authors to the FB group MM Fiction Addiction Cafe.
There will be prizes and authors chatting throughout the day!
The last day of November is upon us. Sorry it hasn’t been a spectacular November, but on the positive side, I have been getting some writing done. I hope to have the next Moon Pack book out in January and it is mostly focused on Dare and Steven with the following book an Anthony and Silver one. To finish off November I’ll run one last contest!
Two randomly chosen people will win a $25.00 Amazon GC if you answer the following: What is your favorite cake flavor?
A little moon pack snippet!
Elliott slid on the party hat then straightened the streamer. He had worked all day to make sure Parker had an excellent birthday. Henry delivered the cake an hour ago and it sat chilling in the refrigerator waiting for the right moment to make a grand entrance. A glance at the time had Elliott cursing. The guests would be arriving any minute and Parker still hadn’t returned home from his work at the club.
After a lot of consultation with Anthony they now lived in a small two-story cottage built on pack lands. A cottage that smelled of simmering sauces and rich meats. Elliott might not be able to bake a cake, but he could sear a good steak. He checked to make sure nothing was close to being done. A well-done meat would ruin his reputation for eternity. His stellar work as an accountant wouldn’t help him with a hungry wolf pack he promised steak.
A loud rapping on the door, jerked Elliott out of his thoughts.
Rushing to answer he found Anthony and Silver on the other side. Anthony gave a quick hug, Silver offered a status report.
“Parker will be another thirty minutes, I’m having him close out the bar,” Silver said.
“Why?” Elliott frowned.
“Because he was giving Dare a hard time about his fan club while Steven was walking by,”
“Ah.” Parker did like to tease his friend. Whenever Dare worked the bar he always had a small crowd watching him mix drinks and just stare. It drove Steven mad. “Yeah, Parker shouldn’t have kicked that hornets nest.”
Anthony snorted. “Dare says the makeup sex is great. I think he provokes Steven for that reaction.”
“Probably.” Dare’s well-known mischievous streak got him into trouble often enough.
After Silver and Anthony’s arrival, the rest of the pack game in dribbles and drabs. It took forty minutes for Parker to make it back home.
“Surprise,” the crowd shouted.
Parker clutched his chest but his wide smile and bright eyes conveyed his true joy at seeing everyone there. “Wow!” his gaze fell on Elliott. “Did you do all this precious?”
Elliott shrugged. “I wanted you to have a good birthday even though you had to work.” He tossed a teasing glare at the alpha.
Parker laughed. He stepped forward, wrapped his arms around Elliott, and spun him around in a circle. “Thank you!”
The kiss Parker planted on Elliott’s lips was greeted by a chorus of catcalls and whistles. In true movie star romance style, Parker dipped Elliott. The whistles increased.
Parker’s lips helped Elliott ignore them all despite his usual shyness. When they finally separated, Elliott’s heart was beating faster and harder than normal. “I’m taking it you liked the party?”
Parker grinned. “That depends. Did you burn the steaks?”
“Ahh.” Elliot tore away from Parker and raced through the crowd. “Coming through!”
He slid to a stop in front of the griddle. A quick examination had him let out a sigh. “They’re fine!” he shouted.
Cheers rang through the house, and someone let off a small air horn, loud enough to deafen the group of shifters.
Parker appeared at Elliott’s side. “All good?”
“Happy birthday, love.”
Parker’s bright smile eased Elliott’s party anxiety. “Thank you. I appreciate the work you put into it.”
Despite the crowd and noise. Elliott would throw a thousand parties to get Parker to smile at him like that one more time.
I’ve had one of those days. You know the ones where you sit down at your computer then look up and it’s 2:00pm. *sigh*
So I’m going to have a contest. One winner will receive a $25.00 gift card. The question to answer is: What is your favorite time waster?
“Die Hard is not a Christmas movie!” Steven sniffed.
Dare flopped down beside him, wrapped an arm around Steven’s shoulders, and gave him a tight sideways hug. “Of course it is. How can it not be? It has a Christmas party, Christmas music and takes place during Christmas Eve. It doesn’t get any more Christmassy than that.”
Steven remained unmoved. “It’s full of shootouts and corporate takeovers.”
“You never had Christmas dinner with my grandmother. Otherwise you wouldn’t use that line of reasoning.”
Steven’s bright laughter had Dare smiling goofily back at him. It had been far too long since he heard Steven laugh like that. “I’ll keep that in mind if we ever go to meet your family. Your brother, Jager, is more than enough for now.”
“Jag agrees about Die Hard being a Christmas movie too. Next you’ll be saying Nightmare Before Christmas is a Halloween film.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous. Everyone knows that’s a Christmas movie.” Steven’s smug smile had Dare tilting his head up as if asking for divine inspiration.
“Fine. I’ll give you that one but Die Hard is definitely Christmas.
“How about we agree to disagree,” Steven offered.
“I’d rather spend the time persuading you to see things my way.”
In a slithering motion reflecting his inner cade, Dare slipped to his knees between Steven’s legs. “Maybe I can persuade you into my point of view.”
“You can give it your best, but I won’t change my viewpoint.”
“Hmm, we’ll see.” Dare slid the zipper on Steven’s pants down halfway. “Are you willing to give?”
“Never.” Steven infused a believable protest in that one word.
If he were in his cat form, Dare’s tail would be flicking. “never is a long time.”
“I won’t be moved.”
Dare finished prodding the zipper down all the way. Without care for Steven’s clothing, he ripped the pants down to his ankles.
“I really liked those,” Steven mourned. “They made my ass look incredible.”
“I did too, but you know what really shows it off? Nothing.”
Steven gasped as Dare used his claws to remove the final layer blocking him from his prize. Steven’s erection sprang up at him as if even his body knew of Dare’s worshipful ways. Without warning, Dare swallowed Steven down.
Steven dug his fingers into Dare’s hair and clutched it tight as if confused about whether to keep him there or prod him into action. “You are a talented cocksucker, kitten,” he praised.
Dare gave a pleased hum around his mouthful.
Steven groaned. He released Dare’s hair and clutched the coach. Free from the tight hold and no longer worrying about going bald, Dare spent the next ten minutes exploring his mate’s cock and showering him with attention. Dare ran his hands up and down Steven’s legs. Slow, sensual touches that increased his skin’s sensitivity and built anticipation.
“I’m not going to last,” Steven warned.
Dare squeezed Steven’s legs letting him know it was all right. Steven gasped rewarding Dare for his efforts. Dare swallowed down his prize. After he pulled off, Dare licked his lips. “Are you sure Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie?”
Steven eyed Dare with a heavy-lidded gaze. “I’ll call it an Easter film if we go into the bedroom and let me take care of you.”
Dare snickered. “Sounds like a deal.”
The pair left the living room with the sound of gunfire bursting from the television. Another Christmas movie checked off Dare’s ‘to watch’ list.
Anthony pulsed his magic quieting the hinges and opening the bedroom door. His hands remained curved around a papered box wrapped in cartoon wolfs. It had taken a special rush order to procure the wrapping paper. He particularly liked the party hats. Grinning wildly, he moved across the plush carpet, careful not to bump into anything that might fall outside his silence bubble.
Ten steps from the bed, the lump buried beneath the covers moved.
“What are you doing, beloved?” the deep voice froze Anthony mid step.
“How did you hear me?” he sighed. It was next to impossible to surprise a werewolf.
Silver sat up in bed with messy hair and crinkled eyes. “I didn’t. But you smell like all the best things in my world, and you didn’t block your scent.”
Silver laughed. “Come join me.” He patted the spot beside him in bed. “It’s too early to be awake.”
“Happy Birthday.” Anthony climbed onto the mattress and settled hip to hip to his lover.
“What did you get me?” Silver plucked the box from Anthony’s hands and shook it.
“Hey, don’t shake it.” Anthony laughed at the big, bad alpha’s childish glee.
“Is it fragile?”
“Only when a werewolf shakes it.”
Silver laughed. “Can I open it?”
“Yes, it is your birthday after all.”
“I like the paper,” Silver admired the wrapping.
“I thought of you.”
“I can tell.”
With a vicious smile, Silver tore off the paper then opened the box. A laugh burst through him. “You got me a stuffed wolf?”
“Look at its collar.”
A brass medallion dangled from a loop around the wolf’s throat. “One free night out.”
“We’ve both been so busy.” Anthony let his words trail off.
“We have been.” Silver carefully set the box on the floor the cupped Anthony’s face between his hands. “But no matter how busy we are, know that I’m always thinking of you.”
“Happy Birthday.” Anthony leaned into Silver’s warm touch. His callused hands sent pleasurable chills down his spine.
“It’s been great so far.” Silver pressed his lips against Anthony’s.
Heat poured down Anthony’s spine.
“Where’s the munchkin?” Silver whispered in Anthony’s ear.
“With Dare.” Anthony swung his leg over and straddled Siver’s lap.
“Excellent. Happy Birthday to me.”
So I can spend time with the family I’m only running a contest today!
Three winners will receive their choice of one of my backlist ebooks. To enter, tell me about your favorite holiday meal!
A little late but here it is. I wrote this a while ago.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Quaid tugged at his turtleneck and glared at his sister.
“Oh suck it up. You know I can’t come to these things alone.” Tori tugged at her clothes straightening her dress as she slid out of the car.
“Well if you didn’t keep scaring off your dates it wouldn’t be a problem,” Quaid said.
“Shut it!” Tori scowled at him. “Besides most of the people here don’t know you’re my brother.”
Quaid shuddered. “I’m not kissing you.”
Tori smacked him with her sparkly purse. “Idiot.”
“Ouch, I’m a police officer I could arrest you for assault.”
“Try it. I’d love to explain to everyone at the station how the big, bad cop couldn’t handle a tap from a tiny lady purse.”
“That you keep an anvil in. You forgot that part.” Quaid rubbed his arm.
Tori giggled, a strange sound from the elegant woman standing beside him. With her three-inch heels her head still only reached his shoulders.
“Come on you poor abused man.”
“Finally you admit your poor treatment of me.” Quaid offered his arm so she could hold onto him as they walked across the sideway. Parking was scarce in Pioneer Square and they had to walk a fair distance to reach the gallery. Some reclusive artist was giving a show and Tori insisted she had to meet him.
Quaid knew better than to try and change her mind. If she hadn’t just broken up with her last boyfriend Quaid wouldn’t be in the position of a mindless evening rubbing elbows with art snobs. His partner Felipe laughed himself sick when he found out where Quaid was spending his evening.
“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled.
“That’s the right attitude.” Tori said, her voice unnecessarily perky.
Quaid opened the door and motioned her inside. He regained a bit of enthusiasm when he saw a waiter wander by with a tray of filled wine glasses.
“Shoo, go look at the pictures and pretend you’re intelligent.” She made a dismissive gesture at him.
“Maybe you can pretend to be a nice person.”
“Doubtful.” Tori turned her back on him and went to greet a fellow art lover.
Quaid laughed. She didn’t really need him here she just hated to drive downtown. Two men were arguing in the corner. He didn’t like how the large man was towering over the smaller man. He approached them just as the big man turned on his heel and left.
The slim man clutched a sketchpad in a tight grip, hard enough to
“You okay buddy?”
A quick flash of startling blue-violet eyes raised to meet his before looking away. “Yeah.”
Quaid crouched down beside the young man. “Are you sure?”
He nodded but didn’t look up again.
“I’m Quaid.” He held out his hand.
“Jasper, um Jazz.” He pried his fingers off the sketchbook to offer a slim hand.
“Nice to meet you, Jazz.”
“Yes. Do-do you like art?”
Jazz didn’t speak like he had a stutter but more like he was trying to collect the words in a butterfly net and pin them into place.
“I haven’t had much exposure to it.” Quaid didn’t want to share his disdain of art with this fragile man.
He received a quick smile that struck him like a ball of lightning. “Want to see my art?”
“Is that a come on?”
Jazz’s expression of complete confusion had him backpedalling. “I was just kidding.”
“You don’t want to see my art?”
Quaid tilted Jazz’s head up so he was forced to make eye contact. “I would love to see your art.”
A dimpled smile rewarded his statement. “They are over here.” Jazz moved his chin out of Quaid’s hold.
Quaid followed completely out of his depth. He’d never flirted with a guy who didn’t understand he was flirting. Jazz didn’t appear to be picking up any of Quaid’s usual cues.
Unsure of his next step he followed Jazz to a wall of pictures. Focused on Jazz’s ass he didn’t notice the art at first. Jazz had turned to face him and he’d been lost in the purity of Jazz’s gaze. He’d been a detective for fifteen years and he’d never seen such guileless beauty in another man’s eyes.
Jazz tilted his head to indicate the wall.
Reluctantly Quaid turned to see Jazz’s work, and froze. “Wow.”
He’d expected some vague paint splashes that he’d have to give meaningless platitudes to get into Jazz’s pants. Instead he sank into the world Jazz had created. The canvas in front of him was a series of tiny pieces of paper, each bit lined up with another and created a three-dimensional world. Glimpses of color, people, and buildings peered through the strips. Quaid’s curious nature wanted to pull and tug to see the treasures hidden underneath.
“What do you call it?”
“It’s amazing.” Quaid stepped back to get a better look and his eye was caught on the portraits on the right. They weren’t just incredibly detailed paintings, but it was as if the artist had captured the subject’s soul. They were in a completely different style, but Quaid had no doubt they were done by the same person.
“That’s my brother,” Jazz pointed to the bottom painting.
The painting radiated power, the man looked like a supercharged version of the delicate man beside him. “You don’t look much alike.”
“We’re half-brothers. We share a father.” Jazz’s expression went blank as if recalling something depressing.
“Well if it makes you feel better I like this version,” Quaid said pointing at Jazz.
Jazz laughed. “Thank you. I am talented.”
He said the words without any sign of modesty or bragging but like he was stating a fact.
“Yes you are.” He liberated two glasses of wine. “Would you like one?”
“Jazz doesn’t drink,” A deep voice answered for him.
Quaid turned to see the man in the portrait. “Ahh the half-brother.”
“I’m Nolan. Why are you trying to seduce my brother?”
“He’s not trying to do that Nolan,” Jazz said.
Nolan and Quaid exchanged looks.
I told Sheri I was going to take the day off, then I woke up and wanted to ramble. Today is my 52nd birthday. I can’t believe I’m past the half-century mark. Everyone says the years go fast, that your children grow faster and you don’t really believe them until you wake up and realize so many years have passed. This year I’m not going to wait until the New Year I’m going to take stock of my life now and think of the things that I like and the things that I should change. I believe we spend too much time concentrating on the bad parts of life, where we went wrong, what we could have done better, and forget what we might have done right. I’m going to focus on my health in the upcoming years. Not just to lose weight but overall healthy. To get out of the house, go for a walk, meet some new people, become more thoughtful, and reconnect with my love of writing. Even as a young child, my favorite activity was to sit down and jot down ideas for stories. Somehow through the years that has become more of an obligation than a pleasure and my writing has always been a source of joy in my life, a joy I’ve let wander by the wayside and grow grey hairs without me. In the spirit of this note, I’m going to give one random person a $10.00 GC to Amazon. To enter you have to share one thing you’ve stopped doing that you think, ‘perhaps I’ll give it another try’. Thank you for reading my ramblings.
I’ve had this idea of hybrid heroes for a while. I have several semi-started. Here is one:
Hal blinked trying to adapt his vision to the bright light.
Where the fuck am I?
He sat up and took in the luxurious room. It had the impersonal feel of a hotel and the smell of cleaning spray beneath the surface. He scanned his memory but could only remember going to dinner with his parents the night before. They’d gone to a steakhouse and discussed his future.
He hadn’t known what to tell his parents about his plans. He’d never thought about leaving the pack even though they had never accepted him since his first change. Apparently turning into a scaled wolf with wings freaked out the normal wolves. Hybrids weren’t supposed to exist. Hal didn’t know of any others like him. Of course reproduction between a wolf and a dragon didn’t happen often and the few times Hal had heard of resulted in either a dragon or a wolf not a weird conglomeration of both.
The alpha of their pack had grown increasingly upset with Hal’s presence. He had to either challenge the alpha for leadership or find a new place else to call home. Hal had hesitated to leave his parents. Although at twenty-one years old he’d stayed longer than he planned.
A piece of paper caught his attention.
You need to start your own life now. There are rumors the alpha is planning your death. We have paid for this room for a month. We also opened your trust fund so you have money. Love you son. Keep in touch.
Mom and Dad
Hal stared at the note for a long moment. His parents had effectively banished him. He’d never doubted his parent’s love, but he hadn’t seen this coming. They must’ve drugged him in order to get him here.
“Now what the fuck do I do?”
Groaning, Hal threw himself on the bed. Depression pressed him down. He didn’t have any reason to get up. He understood why his parents had acted but it didn’t take away the sting.
It only took a few minutes before he was so disgusted by his self-pity he had to get out of bed. Exploring his environment would be a good first step. He needed to figure out where he was and if he planned on putting down roots here or if he’d be heading out somewhere else.
His parents were right. Sticking around where the alpha could find him wasn’t a good idea. Hal could’ve stayed and killed the alpha but despite his prejudices the Alpha Viden was a good man. It wasn’t completely his fault the pack never warmed to Hal.
A quick shower and a peek in the closet revealed his wardrobe had been entered. He wondered how long they had planned this venture. He’d thought they were responding to his recent comments. This smacked of planning. A great deal of planning.