Saturday, June 29, 2013

Seeking Web Site Advice: Also Book Giveaway

Here's a chance to help me out and enter to win a copy of one of my books. This includes paperbacks and my upcoming release, Thick as Thieves.

What do you want to see on an author's web site?

I just celebrated my birthday and one of the gifts I received was a website, courtesy of Ken the Visiting Artist, who was appalled his mother had not purchased her own domain. So he did it for me. Now he is building me a website. My job is to figure out what to put on it.

So if you would like to enter the drawing for a free book... or even if you simply want to help me:

1. Leave a comment at the end of this post.

2. Name one feature (more if so inclined) you want to see on an author website.

3. Include your email so I can contact you and send the prize should you win.

For every 10 comments, I will give away a book. Any book from my published list is available, including paperbacks of Captive Heart or Thick as Thieves (not yet released). Entrants from outside the U.S. are welcome, as I don't mind paying postage for the paperbacks. Thick as Thieves will be released July 8, so if you want that book, you'll have to wait until that date before I can send it to you.

The giveaway runs through the weekend. I will pick the winner at 6 a.m. on July 1st.

Thanks for any help or tips you can give!

Friday, June 28, 2013

Birthday Bash Winner

Yesterday I spent a lovely day at Longwood Gardens with one of my sons, the Radical Artist, who is visiting. The conservatory there is marvelous and is sure to show up in one of my stories. In fact, I can see it showing up really soon... altered, of course... in one of my Wednesday Brief chapters. But back to purpose of this post. We have a winner!

Congratulations to Suze on winning the $10 gift card!

I've sent the winner an email and she will get her gift today.

Tomorrow I'll be holding another quiet friends and fans giveaway, this one for copies of any of my books, including paperbacks and also my upcoming release, Thick as Thieves.

Thanks, everyone, for making my birthday extra special. :D  I've used your movie suggestions for this weekend's movie marathon queue!

An Interesting Life

I've led an interesting life. Sometimes it was just a bit more interesting than I wanted it to be, and there were times my life bordered on fulfilling the famous Chinese curse "May you live in interesting times." Surprises are good, but let's not overdo it. In any event, most of my life has been enjoyable aside from the extra interesting parts.

One of the bits of sage advice I laid on my sons was that they should live interesting lives too. I meant this in the best way (see above) because I didn't want them to end up being old and bitter because they never did anything risky or fun. Part of my parenting plan was to encourage my boys to go away for school because I knew staying home with me wouldn't be very interesting for any of us.

Each took his own path.

The eldest wanted to be Ivy League andthanks to being interesting from an early age and having waded into the internet when it was just a pool called the world wide webhe opted to go to Cornell, got advanced degrees in engineering and business, and now his job is so interesting I cannot adequately describe it to my friends. It has to do with clouds. Everyone who buys things with a cell phone uses it. Or something like that. He and his wife are about to head off to Italy, which is high on the list of interesting places.

My middle son had his heart closer to home and went to the University of Wisconsin in Madison, where he became a Badger and chased tornadoes across the lower Midwest. He also became a sports fan, something his brothers never truly did. He's settled in Wisconsin, married, and has a child, which is right up there on the scale of interesting things. And I understand it! Every year, he and his wife and friends take part in the world largest trivia contest, held in Stevens Point. To paraphrase Vizzini: Plato? Aristotle? Socrates? ... Morons.

My youngest, though, seems to embrace every interesting thing that crosses his path. He went to Ringling School of the Arts, where he made interesting friends, and now he does interesting work for a news organization. I'd never be able to keep up with his life if it were not for Facebook, Instagram, and any other social network site I can navigate well enough to stalk him. I have to do this, you see. He's too busy leading an interesting life to call his mother. I never know if he'll be at the World Beard and Mustache Championship in Alaska, or the World Wife Carrying Championship in Finland. He's rumored to live in Atlanta, and on any given week he will run around the city twice, eat a strange new food, catch a performance by some hot new band (or perform himselfhe's a drummer), have ringside seats at a roller derby, or hold an outdoor movie night in his backyard that half the cool crowd in the city will attend. He knows people I've heard of, which I think is interesting, though he probably considers it ordinary.

All three boys consider me interesting because I write fiction and, not inconsequentially, because I gave birth to them. They're still trying to figure out how that quite happened but it's a fait accompli. Here I am. There they are. And to this day they are the three most interesting things I ever did.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Let the Birthday Bash Begin!

I’m not a hobbit, not even close. For one thing, I don’t have tough, furry feet, nor am I the size of a child. But I do have a practical hobbitish love of the comforts of home, overindulge at every opportunity, and am especially fond of birthday parties.

Today is my birthday.

Birthdays are especially fun because, among other things, my children remember me. Another fun thing about birthdays is cake. I like cake. But the most fun of all is probably the giving of presents.

I expect to be getting presents, but I will also do it like a hobbit and give out a few presents of my own. Because it’s my birthday! I will give out a new present every day for three days: today, tomorrow, and Saturday/Sunday.

Today and today only, if you leave an answer to the Birthday Question in a comment, you will be entered into a drawing for your choice of a $10 gift card from Amazon, AllRomance, or Dreamspinner. Deadline to enter is 6 a.m. tomorrow morning, because that's when my poodle and I will pick the winner. Remember to include your email address so I have a way to contact you.

The Birthday Question

I’m in the mood for fun, so… what’s the funniest movie you’ve ever seen?

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Wednesday Briefs: Sealed in Stone #1

Welcome to Wednesday Briefs, where authors post free fiction of 1000 words or less. I took a little hiatus to finish a book, but… I’m back! This new story is SF and M/M.

This week's prompts were: "Don't move until I tell you." or "Your underwear is showing..." or "You're treading a fine line here..." or use: cart, prick, T-shirt or have a guest Frenchman in your story or have a hole in the ground or "wine, women and song" or use a man with a brand new goatee or discuss either Mad Men or Royal Pains in your story or use the big bang theory. Or I could use one of the picture prompts. 

I chose a picture prompt and… this is what I came up with. Enjoy!


Sealed in Stone

The high walls of the Kumbh’Bhesarim fluttered with red silk to welcome the Queen’s Voice. The kumbh’s several hundred humans had worked far into the night to prepare for the day about to dawn.

Willem darted across a stone yard and entered the men’s bath house. Weak light from a single aperture in the roof revealed a pale figure standing at the base of the cleaning wall. Water spilled into the room from the aqueduct that also supplied the kumbh with drinking water. Willem’s heart pounded as he recognized Torrey. He’d come! The guard on the High House must have been light. Willem ran the length of the chamber, tossing his tunic onto a stone bench before he dashed into the shallow containment pool.

“You’re here,” Willem murmured. He embraced Torrey’s naked body and pulled him close. The waterfall sluiced over their bare skin, its coolness bracing in the morning chill.

“I snuck out, climbed down the dragonweed—”

Willem didn’t give Torrey a chance to say more. The mere fact of Torrey was all the explanation he needed. He seized the other man’s perfect lips with his, tasting Torrey’s heat, the yielding mouth that opened to welcome him with a fevered moan. So much beauty in one man, one body… all hot supple muscle and silken skin. Willem glided one hand up Torrey’s neck, into his dark brown hair. When an answering caress skimmed his ribs, he inhaled sharply. Not the nipples, please not the nipples. He didn’t think he could last another moment if Torrey did that. Already his cock had filled so completely it rubbed along Torrey’s stiff answer to his need.

“I want you so much.” Willem sucked at Torrey’s hungry mouth. He worked his hands over Torrey’s hot, grinding ass. “I need you. Right now.”

Torrey gave a ragged moan and buried his face in Willem’s shoulder. “Then do it, Will. Please. Don’t make me wait. I’m ready.”

Willem turned Torrey so they both faced the wall. His fingers drifted over Torrey’s buttocks and down the beautiful valley until he encountered Torrey’s hole. A moan of pleasure greeted him. Torrey had prepared himself, if the ease with which Willem’s finger entered him was any sign. Maybe he’d even used muhra oil, though Willem hoped he hadn’t. He wanted every whimper and groan to be because of him alone.

It took Willem only a moment to line his cock up and push into Torrey’s body. So hot. So tight and sweet and… he sank in slowly, as slowly as he could, enjoying Torrey’s gasps, the way the young man’s ass pushed back. Impaling himself. Willem wrapped an arm around his partner’s waist and held him for one last thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

“Damn, I love your cock,” Torrey said. He was panting with more pleasure than pain.

“What you love is feeling me inside you.”

“Yeah, that—”

All either of them heard next were Torrey’s soft groans, Willem’s grunts, and the slap of hard young flesh hitting flesh. Willem reached under and grabbed Torrey’s rigid shaft, pumping in rhythm to his thrusts. Their hunger was too heated, too long thwarted, for either man to last long. The pleasure of a thousand queens followed until with shudders and sighs they both sagged against the wet, cold wall and leaned there, panting as the water spilled over and between them. Willem stayed inside Torrey, loving the firm grip and squeeze on his cock as he slowly retreated. When he could stay in no longer, when their breathing had slowed and their muscles ached, he pulled out.

“I don’t know which I miss more,” Torrey said, his voice rough with feeling, “you—or that.” Water ran over smiling face and hair, giving him the look of some Olterran god of mischief.

“I knew I wasn’t mistaken about that little hand signal you gave.”

“I don’t think I was supposed to see you. The Kumbhara told me she’d traded you to the Lohakarim for one of their sons.”

“And I told her I would disgrace the Bhesarim by pissing on their Kumbhara’s carpet.”

They washed away the remnants of their passion with cold water and left the pool. Torrey had brought two lengths of drying cloth and tossed one to him. Willem put on his plain work day tunic, holding his tongue when he saw the red garment Torrey donned. He damned the Queen’s Chosen for having died young.

When they left the bathhouse, dawn had just begun to brighten the sky beyond the walls.

“Race to the roof?” Torrey suggested. Willem could never say no to the challenge in that grin.

They took the stone steps two and three at a time, Willem emerging at the top only one step ahead of his rival.

“Done! I win again!”

“You wouldn’t have, if I’d dared scrape by you.”

Willem laughed. While Torrey wore red, shoving or any other rough play was forbidden. A candidate for being chosen by a queen must not be marred or blemished in any way.

They settled onto the flat roof beside several brightly colored carpets. Sunrise gilded the kumbh’s parapets, peeking through crenellations to create lacy shadows. Even the nom was beautiful. Sunfire blazed upon the towers and battlements of mighty Pesht, at the feet of which all the kumbhs of humans huddled in abject obedience.

Pesht was where the nomari rulers dwelled.

“You’re too old to be chosen,” Willem said. “Queens never choose men of age to sport a beard. You’re safe tonight.” And tomorrow Torrey wouldn’t have to wear the red tunic, not ever again.

“No man is ever safe, not really. What a queen wants, she will take. Our alliance with Cyrrhi is this kumbh’s most important asset. She can have any of us, for that.”

A human tribute, in return for protection from other queens. Willem frowned at the nom. How many queens resided there? Forty, he’d heard. Forty queens. One Queen.

And several hundred thousand warriors.  


Thank you for reading. Here are links to all the other wonderful Wednesday Briefers and their free stories.

Monday, June 24, 2013

Talking with Chris T. Kat

Today I'm sitting down to talk with one of my favorite authors, Chris T. Kat. She writes amazing, hot M/M romances. Her new release, Attachment Strings, veers into a genre I love almost as much as fantasy, the detective novel. Plus it's set in a place I can practically see from my house!

1. Writing is a solitary, often frustrating, and woefully underpaid profession. That said, a lot of people want to do it, so there must be an upside other than the obvious, which is that being a writer makes one sexy. So why do you write?

It does make a writer sexy? Oh, well that explains my husband's interest in— Um, where was I? Oh, right!

I've always had my head full with stories and wrote them down as a kid and teenager. For whatever reason I stopped writing for a long time. I was content with reading, doing sports, crafting and living for my job. After both kids were born I was sick for a few months, discovered the world of fan fiction and suddenly the writing bug bit me. I wanted to read a certain kind of story in my fandom and since I couldn't find it, decided to write my own. That was in 2008. I haven't stopped writing since and I don't think I ever will.

There are so many stories waiting to be told and I enjoy creating my own worlds, to see where my characters will lead me, what discoveries they will make on their journeys to happiness and true love.

For me writing is a way of escapism, a place where I can do whatever, live a life I'll never have in real life and just lose myself. Even though writing is sometimes very hard work, it's the one thing that always relaxes me.

2. Attachment Strings is a M/M detective story. Where is this story set and how did you tackle the world building? I’m asking this because the cover sure looks like the Jersey shore to me and the blurb doesn’t say.

You're correct! The story is set in Atlantic City. The shore and amusement park you see in the background is the Steel Pier Amusement Park, located at Atlantic City's Boardwalk.

3. How much of your personality and life experiences are in your writing?

There's quite a lot of life experiences in my writing. I'm a special ed teacher, so when my characters have a disability I not only have book knowledge but I've also worked with children and young adults with those disabilities. I've gotten to know children when they were still healthy, could run and talk but due to a progressing disability they were bound to a wheelchair and couldn't talk properly any more two years later. I'll never forget the one time when a severely disabled child died during the school morning.

How much of my personality is in my writing? Hmm, that depends on the book probably. I try not to insert myself in my books but some obvious character traits are still in them. For example the teasing way some of my characters have when they talk to each other, that's how my husband and I talk to each other. Well, and then there's my love of animals, which is why in most of my books animals play a prominent role.

4. If we could see your writing space, what would we see?

You really don't want to see my writing space because it's rather, hm, how should I phrase it? Well, it's chaotic, to be honest. I have a small desk in a corner of the living room, so there's stuff piled up everywhere. I absolutely hate when someone tries to organize my desk because I'll never find anything again! My desk might look like a mess but I know exactly where everything is. (Yeah, that's the kids excuse for their messed up bedrooms too...)

5. I’ve noticed many of your books have a special connection between humans and animals, whether as shifters (Secret Chemistry; A Purrfect Match), pets (Seizing It; Too Good to be True), or feral animals (Caveman and the Devil). So… do you love animals?

Yes! I do, no doubt about it. Currently we have two guinea pigs, named Sky and Sam. We plan on getting a dog but only when we can make sure that we don't need to leave it for six to eight hours.

When I was a kid my mother never wanted pets but she allowed me to go riding. I did that for a while but then money got tight and I had to cancel them. My mother's second husband got me guinea pigs without my mother's permission later and I was very happy about that.

I always get along well with animals, especially those who usually seem to be restless. They always calm down around me and I just love petting them, talking to them or taking them for a walk. When I met my husband at 17 his family had a Bernese Mountain dog—this dog quickly became mine. I loved her dearly!

Even though she was such a big dog, she was a real scaredy cat. Any unknown noises or even a little mouse crossing our path during a walk would have her hiding behind my legs. But there was one incident in which she showed her protective instinct. I was out with her for a walk in the evening (in a forest) and a man started stalking me. I began to quicken my pace and the man did the same. The dog was unleashed but she started circling me. Then suddenly she ran back toward the man and barked (this is one of the dogs that never barks!). She walked further up to him, barking and the man quickly veered off. The dog came back to me and stayed close to my side until we were back home. She stayed so close I almost tripped over her! At home I sat down on the sofa, told my then-boyfriend what happened, and the dog climbed into my lap and didn't move for an hour. I was so grateful for her intervention!

6. Want to tell us about any projects you have in the works? Or any releases coming soon?

What author doesn't want to talk about their projects? ;-)

I'm revising a shape-shifter story at the moment and when that's finished I want to go back to the second Jeff Woods Mystery, titled Sacrifices. I've already written two third of the story, so this one should be finished this summer. After that I'll probably go back to a story I started a year ago (it's about an angel and his human mate).

My next release will be with Torquere Press and it's a light BDSM story, called Hunter's Hunt. I hope to write a sequel to this story because I love the genre.

7. Which of your characters most resembles you?

I can't answer this question with just one character because it's a mix between Riley from Silver Lining and Andrew from A Purrfect Match.

Riley because he's compassionate and doesn't leave Scott when things get rough. He stays and tries to find a way to reconcile with Scott. I'm much the same—I don't give up on other people easily. I always find something positive and will be loyal (within reason, of course).

Andrew, because he tries to do what is best for Tony, his son, even if it might not be the best for himself. Jim's shape-shifter secret doesn't faze him and when he loves someone, he does it whole-heartedly. What can I say? Sounds like me. :P

Author Bio:

Chris T. Kat lives in the middle of Europe, where she shares a house with her husband of many years and their two children. She stumbled upon the M/M genre by luck and was swiftly drawn into it. She divides her time between work, her family—which includes chasing after escaping horses and lugging around huge instruments such as a harp—and writing. She enjoys a variety of genres, such as mystery/suspense, paranormal, and romance. If there’s any spare time, she happily reads for hours, listens to audiobooks, or does cross stitch.

Buy Link for Attachment Strings:

Visit Chris's  blog at or add her on Twitter at

You can contact her at

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Cover Reveal: Thick as Thieves

I've been quiet lately, mostly because I'm writing, but also because I've been waiting for more news about Thick as Thieves. I turned in the galley proof last week and this week I received an early birthday gift...

Thick as Thieves is being released on July 8th!

And it has a beautiful cover by the amazing and talented Anne Cain!

I'm a cover queen, so I'm over the roof. The cover completely captures the book's sexy atmosphere of fantasy and adventure.

Here's the book's link. This is the ebook, and there's also a paperback.

Here's the blurb:

After Vorgell the barbarian fucks himself with a unicorn horn, he ends up in a cell with Maddog, a pretty young thief. It’s lust at first sight for Vorgell—but honestly, he can’t help it. Unicorn horn is a potent aphrodisiac, and now he can’t stop thinking about sex. Luckily, Madd is one male witch who knows how to put Vorgell’s new magical body to good use when he tricks Vorgell into a kiss that helps them escape.

Vorgell may desire sex in general—and Madd in particular—but Madd has no intention of being screwed by a man twice his size. He has problems of his own, including an enchanted collar that causes him to desire his most hated enemy. He wants that collar off as soon as possible, but that requires stealing a basilisk egg from the castle they just escaped.

Drawn together by lust and magic, the two men join forces and soon find themselves up to their necks in witches, wizards, and trouble. Vorgell and Madd might just be perfect for each other, but first they have to survive long enough to find out.

And of course here's an excerpt. In fact, this is how the book starts. Who remembers this meeting of Vorgell and Madd? 

Vorgell tumbled against the hard floor as the cell door slammed shut behind him with a clang far too final for his liking. Maybe Baron Flemgu hadn’t been kidding when he’d promised to lock him away and let him rot.

“Oh, lovely. A roommate.”

Startled, Vorgell looked over his shoulder. Another man sat in the corner, wrapped in a cloak and hogging the cell’s only patch of light and probably warmth. From what Vorgell could see of him, he didn’t look like much of a threat. He was small, dark-haired, and beardless, with the soft looks of some high lord’s fancy boy. Vorgell had golden hair and a warrior’s body, boasting the scars of many battles. He came from the mountains far to the east of this land, though his band of warriors had been captured and consigned to a slave trader. That indignity had lasted only as long as the slaver’s skull. Since then, Vorgell had made his way to the city of Gurgh—a den of murderers and thieves he had gladly departed so he might try his luck at hunting witches in the wooded wilderness around Baron Flemgu’s castle. And now he was here, in a cell at the tail end of a string of bad decisions.

Difficult as it was to ignore the other prisoner, Vorgell pushed himself upright and peered up at the high barred window. Judging the distance, he crouched and then leapt. He was able to grasp the window ledge with his fingers and pulled himself up until he could just see the top of a line of trees.

“Impressive,” said his companion. “I would have thought you too bulky to make that jump.”

“I’m tall.” That was an understatement. He stood head and shoulders even over the tall men of Scur, and the men of Gurgh were not fit to hold his spear. Vorgell released his grip and dropped back down, landing on his feet. He turned eagerly to his pretty cell mate, happy that in his travels he had learned to speak the local tongue. “My name is Vorgell.”

The little guy snorted. “All that gets you, apparently, is guest accommodations in the baron’s tower.”

“Same fine accommodations as you. What did you do to piss off the baron?”

“You first, big guy.” A smile like a fisherman’s knife flashed his way. The boy had pretty teeth and secretive eyes with long thick lashes, set in a face fetching enough to belong to a girl. Vorgell’s cock thickened, his excitement coming to a boil despite his efforts. He couldn’t help it. For the last three days, all he’d wanted to do was have sex.

“I killed a unicorn,” he managed, though he couldn’t stop staring. The other man’s body possessed a delicate, graceful build that only encouraged thoughts of fucking him here and now. “I was hungry. Thought it was a deer. Turns out unicorns aren’t very big.”

Smile vanishing, his companion sat up straighter. “You killed the unicorn?” His black cloak fell open just enough to reveal a tempting glimpse of skin beneath a stained shirt. “What about the horn? What did you do with that?”

Vorgell flushed. “I was hungry, as I said. There were these berries growing where the unicorn had fallen, and—”

“Love berries. They grow wherever unicorn blood falls.”

“Yes.” The baron’s magicians had explained it. “Well, I ate all the berries I could find, and—”

“And for the rest of the night, you were hallucinating and as horny as a ram.”

“So they tell me. All I remember is having vivid dreams about, well, erect members. Apparently the creature’s horn was too… shapely to resist. When the baron’s soldiers caught me, I was fucking myself with the thing. Unicorn horns dissolve inside, did you know that?”

“Actually, I do.” At least it sounded as though the man believed him. “Are you telling me your barbarian ass consumed the whole horn?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Which explains why you’re here and sporting that.” His companion’s unhappy gaze rested on Vorgell’s burgeoning erection, now straining toward him through unfortunately stained trousers.

“The baron was not happy about it. And now I, well… I don’t suppose—”


Vorgell sat on the stone floor. The cell had no furniture, not even straw for comfort. The only straw he saw was in the other man’s hands, being rolled and worked into a fist-sized ball. Gritting his teeth, Vorgell adjusted his legs, all too aware of the pounding need in his groin. Unicorn horn created unabated sexual desire in anyone who partook of it—the baron’s magicians had explained that too—and he had partaken of enough horn to fuel the lusts of a horde for the rest of his natural life.

“What about you?” he asked. “What did you do to end up in this hole?” As soon as he said it, he winced. He really needed a hole, right now.

“I stole a mandolin.”

And so their journey in the Wednesday Briefs began one year ago! The prompts were unicorn, mandolin, some kind of plant. :D 

If you enjoyed this excerpt, there's a longer one from the next chapter in the sidebar. Or you could just click here.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Guest Blog by M.A. Church -- Morpheus: God of Dreams

Please welcome Michelle, who has stopped by to talk about Morpheus, her sweet, lovable god from her upcoming release, Pure

Hey, everyone! Pure is the final book in The Gods series. This is a series about love, gods, and the issues all three couples in it face.

Book three is about Zygi and Mo, otherwise known as Morpheus, god of dreams. Zygi is a dom who is tired of the endless scenes. Mo is a sweet, shy god who wants nothing more than to be loved for who he is.

While the couple battle through several issues, there are Zeus and Ares, both of whom have their own reasons to break up the couple … and things come to a head in the worst way. Can Zygi accept the god of dreams? Or will he turn his back on the lovable Morpheus?

According to Greek mythology, who was Morpheus?

Morpheus and Iris (Dawn)
Morpheus was one of the primeval gods, descended from Nyx, the dark goddess of night who was the mother of everything mysterious and anything that was inexplicable—such as death, disease, dreams, ghosts, witchcraft, and enchantments. The drug Morphine which, as a side effect, can cause hallucinations, was named after Morpheus. Morpheus was the eldest son of Hypnos, the God of sleep. Morpheus had the ability to take on the appearance of a mortal in dreams. He was the god who relayed messages from the gods and prophecies of the future.

Symbols of Morpheus

The symbols of Morpheus were wings and poppies. These are often featured in depictions of the god of dreams. According to Greek mythology, there was a garden of poppies at the entrance of his palace in the Underworld. Poppies symbolized death, eternal sleep, and oblivion. The hypnotic properties of the poppy plant have long been used to treat insomnia, allowing sleep to people who have trouble sleeping.


Zygi Wyatt is an intimidating dom, but he yearns for love just like the next man. However, finding a partner who isn’t scared of his size is no easy task. The easygoing Mo seems like the answer to his prayers.

Love is the stuff of dreams. Ask the god Morpheus—he knows all about it. Mo wants Zygi in a forever kind of way, but he has to be sure of Zygi’s love before he claims him for his mate and reveals his true self.

Unfortunately, Zeus is growing increasingly unhappy with Morpheus, and Ares is determined to throw a monkey wrench into everything. Zygi and Mo will have to brave the wrath of the gods to make their dreams come true.


“Zygi.” Mo was breathing heavily. “Can we go, please?”
“Where do you want to go?”
Heavy-eyed and breathless, Mo struggled to speak. “My place, your place—I don’t care. I just want to go… somewhere private. Can we go to your home? Can we do that?”
“Look at me,” Zygi demanded, his voice low. “What exactly are you saying? I need to be absolutely sure I know what you want. Are you asking me to take you to bed?”
“I—I… can we just play? Explore some more? Please?”
“But not go all the way, right? You’re not ready to fuck.”
Mo wanted to beat his head against the thick ice table. He couldn’t go to bed with Zygi until the man knew who Mo was. He wouldn’t give his virginity to anyone but his mate. Zygi had to know, to understand that, before Mo went to bed with him. Zygi would need to claim him when he made love to him that first time. He needed Zygi to look in his eyes and say the words “mine” as his dick traveled up his channel.
“I’m sorry, Zygi, I’m not—I’m not ready, yet. But I want you to take me to bed, that awesome bed of yours, and play.”
Zygi set a new record getting their heavy coats off and pulling Mo out of the bar. Mo was impressed. He had no idea such a big man could move so fast. In no time flat, Zygi had him in his truck, buckled in, and on the way to the casino. The drive was silent except for a few moans from Mo. Once Zygi parked, Mo scrambled out of the truck. Zygi waited for him, and they walked to the elevator together. As soon as the door slid shut, Zygi pulled the remote from his pocket and held it up for Mo to see. Zygi made Mo watch as the remote was switched on low again. With a soft gasp, Mo grabbed hold of the railing and shot Zygi a desperate look.
Zygi kept the vibrations on low so Mo could handle it, but Mo still watched the floors change with an urgency that had Zygi chuckling. After a few seconds, he shut the plug off, and Mo sighed. As soon as they were through the front door of his penthouse, Zygi guided Mo straight back to the bedroom with a persistent hand to his back. As they walked through the bedroom door, Zygi turned the plug on to a higher setting.
“You remember your safewords?”
“Aaah, yes. ‘Yellow’ to slow down and ‘red’ to stop.” Mo jerked from the vibrations.
“Right. Use them only if you need to.” Zygi laid the remote on a nearby table. “Strip, now.”

Author bio: M.A. Church

M.A. Church lives in the southern United States and spent many years in the elementary education sector. She is married to her high school sweetheart and they have two children. Her hobbies are gardening, walking, attending flea markets, watching professional football, racing, and spending time with her family on the lake.

But her most beloved hobby is reading. From an early age, she can remember hunting for books at the library. Later nonhuman and science fiction genres captured her attention and drew her into the worlds the authors had created. But always at the back of her mind was the thought that one day, when the kids were older and she had more time, she would write a book.

By sheer chance she stumbled across a gay male romance story on the web and was hooked. A new world opened up and she fell in love. Thus the journey started. When not writing or researching, she enjoys reading the latest erotic and mainstream romance novels.

My links:
Twitter @nomoretears00

Friday, June 7, 2013

Christmas In July: A Very Special Edition by Nephylim

Author Nephylim writes intense, emotional fiction. Her novel Enigma has garnered praise for its portrayal of abuse and recovery. Now she has something special planned for fans and new readers alike. Nephy will tell us more, and then you can answer the question at the end of the post for a chance to win something extraordinary. 

On July 1st I will be pleased to present a Special Edition incorporating Book I and II of the Enigma series. The Special Edition will be available for one month only and will contain original artwork as well as a brand new short story Silver’s First Christmas

Silver is a total enigma, even to me. Snatched off the street at twelve years old he was stripped of his memories and personality and re-invented as a sex slave. Renowned for his beauty and skills as an erotic dancer, he takes the underground world he inhabits by storm. Until he falls in love.

I think it’s only fair that, at some point on this blog tour Silver should get a voice of his own, so here’s an interview I did with him so you can get to know the man behind the name, within the Enigma, a little better.

Interview with Silver

What colour do you like best to paint with?

This is a difficult one. Apart from River, my art is the most important thing in my life and I get so lost in it that I’m not really thinking about what colours I’m using. I get an idea for a painting and then I just paint it. I don’t plan paintings in advance so I don’t plan colours.

Blue and purple are my favourite colours… well and that really nice shade of green that’s almost blue, and rose pink, and the really deep red that I use to shade red roses, and the green that accents trees in spring, and the yellow that I use for highlighting hair and sometimes on the sun and lots of things that the sun touches in bright paintings.

My paintings are lighter than they used to be, not so dark anyway. River has a lot to do with that, because he makes me feel lighter. But, I think purple and blue are my favourites… kind of… sometimes. I really like painting skies with purple and pink. I like the way that light reflects on the underside of clouds and then kind of bleeds into sky and any water that’s around. It’s nice to use oils and acrylics to paint those pictures because the paints blend really nicely and… Oh. River tells me I’m getting off the point. I do that a lot when I’m talking about my art.

I think the point I’m making is that I can’t choose what colour is my favourite.

What is your favorite scent?

River. He smells so nice all the time. I like it best when he uses the shampoo that smells like apples and it’s all sharp and sweet. It’s nice when all the artificial smells wear off, though, like when he’s sweaty or he hasn’t used products in the shower and I can actually smell the smell of River. My favourite part of him is when I put my nose in… What? Why can’t I talk about that? It is my favourite scent after all.  It isn’t as if I’m going to go into details about what I do down there… like when I use my tongue to…

Alright, Alright… I’ll leave it there. River, River is my favourite scent.

Apart from that… rain. I really like the fresh smell when it’s
raining loads. I like to dance in the rain, but River won’t come out with me most of the time. He says I’m weird but I don’t care. I like being weird if it means I can dance in the rain. So what if it’s cold because then, when I come back in, I have a warm shower and mostly River gets in the shower with me and… Alright… Okay… I don’t know what you’re so worried about anyway. You told me to be honest didn’t you? I am NOT sulking.

How far backward can you bend? (LOL)

All the way. I can put my feet on my head. I used to be able to go back further and put my feet on my shoulders but I haven’t been so flexible since I got hurt. River says that I’m a freak for being able to do what I can with my body, but he should have seen me before. It’s been quite hard getting this much flexibility back and I’m determined to go as far as I can, although River doesn’t like it when I use all my skills because he says it’s too much for him. I tease him all the time for not being adventurous enough. He’ll play sometimes and then I can… Oh, not again! Can I say ANYTHING? And don’t forget who’s supposed to be giving this interview anyway. I don’t see your name on the top of the page.

Coffee, Cocoa or Tea?

What’s Cocoa? Oh, right. Well yeah, I like that, but coffee is my favourite. I like it black with no sugar. I don’t like tea very much, although Hester makes it cold with honey in the summer and that’s really nice so I suppose I like tea too, but I think coffee is my favourite.

Early riser or late to bed?

Both. I don’t sleep very much. I suppose it’s because I was always on call with my Masters and I could be woken at any time, so I guess I got used to staying awake just in case. I tend to nap a lot during the day.

What is your favorite place to be touched?

So, am I allowed to answer this one without interruptions? As long as I’m good? Honey, I’m ALWAYS good. Aw, that hurt.

Actually, the place I like to be touched more than anywhere, is on my hair. No one ever used to touch my hair before. They were too busy touching the rest of me. Sometimes, someone would brush my hair, before a show or something, and I have always loved to brush my hair myself but no one touched it just for the sake of it.

One of my first proper memories of River was him brushing and drying my hair. I like it when I cuddle up to him and he strokes my hair. Of course, it’s a lot shorter now, but that doesn’t matter, it’s the top part that feels nicest. Sometimes, he kind of wriggles his fingers in it and makes little circles on my scalp and it makes me shiver and it gets hard… Sigh, I’m going to ignore that… hard to concentrate and not go to sleep. River says I’m like a cat, but I haven’t really seen a cat so I don’t know what they do

Ideal evening; cuddling or sex?

What do you think? I’m not going to say another word because, if I do, River will hit me again.

On the other hand, I do like cuddling. I like to have a shower and put on the big fluffy bathrobe and snuggle up to River on the sofa. We watch films and talk about all sorts of things. Although, thinking about it, we pretty much always end up having sex anyway so, I suppose – both.

Favorite fabric, silk or fleece?

Silk, it’s cool and soft and makes a really nice noise when it moves, kind of a swishing noise. I like to rub my cheek on it and wrap it around me. When I was with my Master I had a robe I used to wear when I was dancing sometimes. It was all swirly colours and made of silk. I loved the way it felt against my body.

On the other hand, fleece is lovely. When I lie on the big white sheep in front of the fire, it feels like I’m sinking right into it and it’s so warm and comfortable. I like to rub my cheek against that too, and to raise my arms over my head and wriggle so it tickles my body.

From the way he’s looking at me, I know River doesn’t want me to mention this but it’s one of my favourite places to have sex. Don’t look like that, I’m not going into details.

Who is David Willis and how did he affect you?

Apart from River, David is the only man I have ever loved. He was a slave, like me, when we were with my last master. We fell in love but it wasn’t allowed and he… he… well, we didn’t know it wasn’t allowed you see. We’d never been told.

How did he affect me? Well… it’s not easy to talk about but… He was my first love. He was the only thing I can ever remember having loved before River. He opened my heart and, for a long time I couldn’t bear to live in a world that had done something so bad to him. He taught me about true sacrifice, about loving someone so much you’d do anything for them, no matter what it cost.

I think that, without David I would never have left my Master and I would still be there now, not really living, not like this. David make me think, made me feel, made want to break free… to be free to love. In the end it was David who really freed me.

Will you see Robert again? (David's brother)

Of course I will. He’s really nice. I’ve met his dad now, too. It was really hard, in the beginning, to talk about David. The first time we got together and they showed me photographs of him when he was young, I cried a lot and had nightmares about what happened to him. I still have them sometimes, but not so often these days.

He looked so happy in the photographs, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He still had some of that sweetness when he was with me but he was different, of course, a different person. I wish I’d known him like he was before. I think I would have loved him even more. No… I don’t think it would have been possible to love him more. Sorry River. I know you don’t like it when I talk about being in love with David. No matter what you say, I can see it in your eyes. But I can’t help it. I was in love with him. No, it’s okay River, I’m fine. I can talk about it now, you know that, but it still hurts. It will always hurt.

How do you forgive others for their crimes against you?

I don’t understand what you mean? Oh. Well, I don’t really think about it. I don’t hate them, I never had. Why would I? They’re not part of my life anymore and… well… I don’t really remember the early times, the bad times when they were… you know… training me, and after… Well, sometimes it was hard but…

I don’t know how to explain really. It wasn’t a bad life, you see. I was warm and comfortable and well fed. People were nice to me, on the whole. When I danced I was in another world, a wonderful world where it was only me and the wind and the movement. I loved to use my body to express the way I was feeling and the sense of excitement was the best feeling. It still is when I’m able to dance, although it’s not often these days.

I didn’t know that what I was doing was wrong, not then. When we did shows, I had a really good time, especially when it was just me and David. Our voices went well together and when we… I’m sorry River, but I did… I did have sex with David as part of the show, and I did enjoy it. I’m not ashamed of it, not even now. It was part of my life and it’s a part that’s precious to me because I shared it with David.

Okay, sometimes I didn’t like it when I had to have sex with strangers, because they weren’t always very nice to me, but I don’t hate them, because that’s what I was supposed to do and I guess that’s what they were supposed to do.

I’m not saying that I want to go back to that, but it wasn’t a bad life and so I don’t see there’s anyone to be angry with, or anything to forgive really.

As for Faith, well… I suppose I might find it hard to forgive him, not because of what he did to me, but because of what he did to River. But he’s gone so there’s no point is there?

I suppose, to be able to say how I forgive I would have to understand it myself and I don’t really… I just do.

What does love mean to you?

River. He is everything to me. He is more important than anyone in the world, even me. I would do anything for him. When I think about him it makes me smile inside, it makes me warm. There is a huge part of me that all wrapped up in River and, if he wasn’t here anymore that part would be a huge hole. I had a hole like that after David died and it didn’t fill up again, until I finally let him go, and he took the emptiness with him.

Love is about sacrifice. It’s about being allowed to be yourself but being part of someone else at the same time. Love is being safe and warm and cared for. Love is about never wanting to have sex with anyone else ever again. No I do NOT keep coming back to sex. No… I don’t think love and sex are the same thing, or even connected at all. I didn’t love any of the men I had sex with when I was a slave and I didn’t love David because we had sex. I was having plenty of that at the time so it wasn’t anything special. Except that it was special because it was with David. I think that’s what love is… something that makes everything special, even things that have always been around, things you haven’t thought twice about before.

Well… let’s face it, I haven’t exactly had a lot of practice with being in love, so it’s the best I can do.

 What exactly was your 'job' while you were held in bondage?

I was expected to spend a lot of time taking care of myself – practicing my skills, keeping my body fit, making sure my skin was soft and flawless, taking care of my hair and that kind of things.

I didn’t have any duties around the house at all, although sometimes I’d serve at Master’s dinner parties.

The most important thing I did was the performance. In the beginning it was mostly having sex with people my Masters told me to have sex with, but when they realised what I could really do with my body, they started to concentrate on the performing.

I used to do a show mostly every night. Sometimes it was just dancing and sometimes singing too. With my last Master I used to go out to other places to perform and lots of people would come to watch. I liked that, it made me proud. I liked it best when my Master told me how much respect and honour I brought him. He’d take me to his private rooms and sometimes we wouldn’t even have sex; he’d just pet me and let me fall asleep on the cushions or even in his bed sometime. It was lovely to wake up in a proper bed with a warm body and someone’s arms around me. It’s lovelier now it’s River, of course.

What happens at the church that causes such a turnaround in your attitude?

I think that, until then, without realising it, I was feeling guilty about everything that happened. Then, in the church, especially when I was talking to Robert, I realised that, if I didn’t go on, if I didn’t get strong and make a good life, I would be throwing everything he did for me back in his face.

The guilt kind of… well it didn’t go away but it stopped being the most important thing, the thing that makes it hurt most when I think about David. After that, it was easier to think about him and it was easier to want to live. Of course, having River there with me was a huge thing too. He had gone to so much trouble to find Robert, and to arrange the meeting and the painting and everything, I realised that I was being really selfish and I needed to snap out of it and start living in the present and not the past.

It was just a shock that jolted me out of my self-pity I guess.

WOW, is it done? I feels like I’ve been talking about myself for ages. Not that it’s a problem but I figure everyone must be bored by now. Thanks for listening to me rambling. I’m tired now. I still get tired a lot. I’ll probably sleep in the car when River takes me home. Maybe I’ll take a nap on the fleece.

And that’s my beautiful boy; my Silver. Someone once said how can anyone NOT love Silver and I pretty much feel that way myself.


In each of the five blogs who will be helping me spread the word I have asked a question. If anyone answers all five questions I will put you in a draw and the winner will get a free copy of the special edition and a signed poster of my darling Silver.

The question for this blog is – What’s Silver’s favourite scent?
The competition will be open until the 1st July when the winner will be announced during the launch party.

Here are the rest of the blog tour stops:

6/8 Christ T Kat