PHOTOREALISM by Julia Talbot

PHOTOREALISM by Julia Talbot

Nature photographer July is determined to capture a moose in his lens during a trip to Colorado. What he finds instead is a beautiful wolf who seems more than happy to pose for him. Rhys wants July to see him as a man, too, but can he convince July that his shifting abilities are real?

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Also available in the DAWG DAYS Anthology which includes stories from Julia Talbot, Jae Christopher, V.L. Locey, Winnie Jerome, Mychael Black, Cecil Wilde, M. Lee, Tray Ellis, Rob Rosen, L.J. Hamlin and Lorne Rodman

Excerpt:

July James aimed his powerful lens at the wolf cavorting in the water. Wolf reintroduction on Grand Mesa was going well from what he could see. This guy was a huge, healthy male with a glossy gray and black coat. The wet tail waved furiously, the wolf jumping and playing in the cold creek, bouncing as if he was hunting in the snow.

God, that was adorable. July had come to the big flattop mountain in Western Colorado to photograph moose, which were also a successful reintroduction, but this wolf had caught his attention three days ago, and he'd been stalking the silly beast since then.

The only worrisome thing about the big gray was how solitary he seemed. Wolves ran in packs, so why was this one so alone? He didn't seem to have any rabies symptoms, and God knew he looked healthy. Then again, he wasn't wearing any kind of radio tag, so maybe he was a wandering male.

Still, the pictures were totally worth the extra time he'd have to spend camping so he could get his moose shots, too. There was something about this animal, something that drew him, made him want to fill a dozen memory cards with images.

He brought the camera around to another angle, his eye at the view instead of watching the digital screen. July froze then, because the wolf stopped its play and turned its head to stare at him, right at him, it seemed. Those golden eyes met his, steady and unafraid, and July felt a lot less like a professional photographer and more like a yummy chew toy for those few moments.

Backing off slowly, he packed his camera away, careful to keep one eye on the wolf. Then he moved carefully toward the main trail, which would have enough foot traffic during these summer months to deter the wolf from following him. His heart slammed against his ribcage. Damn, he was lucky this particular wolf wasn't running with a pack and had only himself to protect and feed.

That had been entirely too close.

Maybe he'd take the rest of the day off. Who really wanted to work on a day as pretty as this anyway?

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GEEK IN THE WOODS by Cheryl Dragon

GEEK IN THE WOODS by Cheryl Dragon 

Major construction disrupts more than Ray Hooker’s life; it rattles his small town with a secret.

As sexy genius Eric Ridgeway continues building his state-of-the-art think tank, the town’s shifter population is terrified their identities will be uncovered by the group of incoming scientists. When fear drives vandals to slow construction, Ray helps Eric defend his property. Their relationship heats up and, in order to protect Eric, Ray reveals that he’s a bear shifter.

Now, not only is his secret out of the bag, but Ray needs to decide if loving Eric is worth the risk of discovery by other scientists. None of that will matter if their newfound attraction can’t outlast fear, lies and distrust!

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Excerpt:

The talk all over Bear Cove was about the big construction machines rolling in and out as work was done on a large piece of land. The small town shared a boarder with Greenville, Maine, but the new property owner wasn’t from either place. Ray Hooker didn’t like the unsettled feeling change brought to the small town he loved, but he’d adapt.

He walked into Bear Cove’s only gay bar, The Black Den, and nodded to a few people. The well-maintained building looked more like a hunting lodge with flannel and a touch of flair. He knew all of the people there had the same question on their mind. They wanted to ask Ray what he knew. Since he ran the local handyman business and matched men to projects and work, he knew the business and local contractors.

Grabbing a stool at the bar, Ray smiled at his old pal behind it. Gus had a talent for listening, like every good bartender, but Gus went even further. He always had a feeling about what troubled people. Even when they were little kids. He always seemed interested and kept things to himself, which was why Ray tried not to impose too much.

“What’s new?” Gus asked.

Ray sighed and looked around. The music actually stopped and people gathered. “We all know a new man has come to town. All that construction has meant some added work around here so let’s not get negative. The new owner is a genius. The eccentrics like to have a lot of land and build their dreams. He’s clearly a millionaire and a scientist from Princeton and Stanford.”

“Eric Ridgeway. He’s staying at the Bear Cove Inn,” said a young man who worked at the inn.

“Dr. Ridgeway is a PhD in environmental something or other. I looked him up. Very rich, very well connected, and very smart.” Thad, Ray’s other best friend, folded his arms.

Ray smiled at Thad, who was the local tech head. Until now, Thad had always been the smartest guy in town.

“A tree hugger?” someone asked.

“A scientist,” Thad repeated. “We have to be careful. He’s not just here to save an owl or hunt some game.”

Ray traded a look with Gus. “Thad’s right. We need to get the word out. All shifters need to be on extra alert. Be very careful when and where you shift. No unnecessary risks. We don’t need any scientists to uncover the secret here.”

“Maybe we can get rid of him?” suggested Matthew.

The young hothead was exactly what Ray had been worried about and why he hadn’t broken the bad news sooner. He needed to see the truth for himself. That building was massive. Plenty of scientists had to be coming. “None of that. He’s bought land legally. He can build whatever he wants. Plans are for a think tank.”

“What’s that?” Gus asked.

“A place where geniuses get together and debate, work, and solve the mysteries of the universe,” Thad said.

“So far none of those think tanks have worked out then, I guess.” Gus laughed.

There were snickers and mutterings from the patrons. The bar drew men from Bear Cove and Greenville. Here there was no secret of shifters living alongside humans. But outsiders were eyed with suspicion.

“He might not be around much. They might stick to their think tank. Do their work and go away. The building will be big enough to house them so they might not mingle with the population. We don’t need to panic,” Ray said.

“We’re being invaded by scientists. Men who study, investigate, and dissect things for a living. I don’t want to be cut up or locked in a cage and tested on like a lab rat.” Matthew scowled.

A couple of his friends nodded in agreement. Ray didn’t like the crowd’s growing agitation... The sight of tense muscles and clenched fists wasn’t good.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need to be careful. Not giveaway our secret. We’ve done it plenty of times. Tourists come in every summer. Plenty of the humans around here have friends or family come to visit. We can do this. Avoid the geeks if you like, but don’t harass them. Making them suspicious won’t help anyone. The sheriff has to do his job, not keep our secret. This think tank could be good. It might mean permanent jobs. Don’t panic because one new guy comes to town,” Ray said.

He didn’t want to add that the attractive man with glasses he’d spied at the construction site was lean and not overly tall but solid. That the guy had brown hair, blue eyes, and a calm way about him. That Ray wanted to know the scientist better, not run him off.

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TERMS OF RELEASE by BA Tortuga

THE TERMS OF RELEASE by BA Tortuga

They say a man can always come home. So after doing hard time, Sage Redding heads to his family’s northeast Texas ranch to help his ailing daddy with the cutting horses. 

Adam (Win) Winchester is a county deputy and the cousin of one of the men killed in the incident that sent Sage to prison for almost a decade. While Win's uncles, Jim and Teddy, are determined to make Sage and the entire Redding family pay for their loss, Win just figures Sage has paid his dues and maybe needs a friend. Maybe he needs more than a friend. In fact, Win’s counting on it.

No one’s denying Sage is an ex-con who went to prison for manslaughter. Regardless of the love he has for his father, he’s returned knowing things will likely go badly for him. Maybe a man can always come home, but he may not be able to stay.

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Chapter One

“SON, I need to talk to you.”

Sage sighed but kept it soft enough that no one could possibly hear. Momma didn’t call often—once a week—and she talked to him for exactly fifteen minutes. Hell, he wasn’t sure if the calls were habit for him or for her, but it was what it was, and it kept the costs on his pay-as-you-go phone low. If she called on a Saturday morning, when she knew he’d been working on the docks all night, it had to be important.

“Sure, Momma. What you need?”

He leaned back on his bed, looking out the little window. His eyes followed the hairline crack that climbed through the glass. Some days he thought maybe that weird, crookedy little line wanted to be a word or something. A picture. Not today. Today it was only a place for a tiny spider to climb. God, he was tired. The trucks had been filled with hundreds of small heavy boxes, and his muscles were screaming for rest. Not sleep, not yet. That wouldn’t come ’til eleven or so. It wasn’t like he came home and crashed once his feet found their way back through the mess in the streets and the little pockets of nighttime assholes on the corners, waiting for the bolder daytime assholes to spell them. This was his primetime, after all. He had a cup of coffee and a Louis L’Amour book he hadn’t read, which he’d found in a dumpster on his way to work a couple of days ago. It was all good.

“Are you listening to me, Sage Marlowe Redding?”

“What? Sorry, Momma. I must’ve dozed some. Long night. Say again?”

“I need you to come home.”

He sat up and frowned, his heart doing that sickening little hiccup and roll that meant something shitty was going down. “What happened?”

“Well, nothing that you’d think was an emergency, really. Your daddy, though, his hands…. He can’t work the horses as much.”

Sage closed his eyes. Fucking Parkinson’s. Daddy’d been fighting it for damn near eight years, but it was a losing battle. “Momma, I….”

“Son, that Teddy Dale, he’s going to take the land. You know he will. He’s waiting. I need you to cowboy up and come on. Now.”

“Teddy Dale’s the reason I ain’t come home, Momma. That man hates the sound of my name.” Not that Sage blamed the crusty old bastard. Angelo, the man’s only son and the apple of his momma’s eye, had died in Sage’s company ten years ago. Leastways that was the story and what was taken as God’s honest truth.

Ten years, ten months, fifteen days and… fourteen and a half hours ago.

“Well, we need to be able to train these horses. Your daddy has a contract. If he can fill it on time, we can pay for six months of bills. Sister’s took pregnant on me, Son. Her and that ass hat she’s married to caught like a pair of hounds.”

“I don’t even have a car, Momma, and I sure don’t have the cash to bus it right now. I get paid in two weeks.” A baby? Rosie? Christ, when had he gotten old? He looked at the calendar. “I can get on a Greyhound then, if I clear it with my parole officer.”

They had rules for men like him, and he followed them because he wasn’t going back in.

He couldn’t.

“I can wire you the money.” She sighed, lowering her voice. “It would kill your daddy to lose this place.”

“I know. I’ll come. I have to make arrangements, Momma. You know that.”

“I know that you paid your debt to society already, baby, for something that shouldn’t have all been on your shoulders.”

“I paid my stupid tax, for sure.” He smiled a little. “Let me see what my parole officer says, and I’ll call.”

“Okay. They… they’ll let you come home, right?”

“I’ll have to go in front of a judge. You know that.” It sucked, but it was what it was.

“I know, Son. Maybe you’ll get Judge Shannon. He’s not in anyone’s pocket, leastways in my memory.”

“Maybe. You’ll need to send me doctor’s information so I can start everything.”

“I can send it overnight unless you have one of those Kinko’s places. I can fax there.”

“I’ll have to call you, Momma. I don’t know. There should be a phone book down in the management office.”

“Okay. I-I’m sorry, Son.” He could hear the tears, right there in her throat. He hated for his momma to cry.

“Shit, what for? You didn’t make me a fuck-up, you didn’t make Daddy sick, and you didn’t make Rosemary decide to have children that her crazy fuck of a husband can’t feed. Seems to me like we should be apologizing to you.”

She sniffled, but the chuckle was just as strong now.

“I’ll call you with the Kinko’s number. Later. I got to work all weekend, but I’ll get in to see Jack on Monday.” If he could.

“Thanks, baby. I’m sorry. I know it’s borrowing more trouble for you, but I need your help.”

“I got your back, Momma. I won’t let you down.” The again was there, unsaid and implied.

“I love you, Son.”

“I love you, Momma. Talk to you later on.” He hung up and sat there, his head pounding, feeling swole as a rotting melon. Much as he hated California, he hated the thought of begging some Texas judge to let him come home even more.

God, what a mess.

“Damn you, Angel. You and me, we fucked everything up, and you had to up and die and get out of everything.”

Angel never answered back, which was good, since the man was dead. Would make it awkward if he hung around.

Sage chuckled, rubbed his forehead, and set his alarm. He’d get a couple of hours of sleep, then get to work.

He had a feeling he was fixin’ to have a lot to do.

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OH! HOALEY NIGHT! by Declan Sands

OH! HOALEY NIGHT! by Declan Sands

A Hoale Construction Mystery - Building Romance, One Flip at a Time...

Sometimes going home is clarifying. Sometimes it's just plain deadly!

Adam travels to Candlelight, Indiana to visit his parents for Christmas. When he arrives he discovers somebody has killed a man and dumped him in the manger of the living crèche at the local church. Unfortunately, all signs lead back to Adam’s father as the murderer.

A Sheriff with a grudge and a small town more interested in gossip than reality, convince Adam that it will be up to him and the gang to clear his father’s name.

Other books in the series:

A Hoale Lot of Trouble
Hoaley Ill-Manored
Hoaley Inexplicable

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Excerpt:

 

“That’s crazy talk, Ads. Visiting your family is not like being castrated with a rusty can opener.”

Adam grimaced and flung a third pair of jeans into his suitcase. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s worse.”

Dirk lifted a dark-blond eyebrow. “You know you’re only going to be there for two days, right?”

“Two days and three very long nights.” Adam threw him a suspicious look. “What’s your point?”

Dirk walked over and slid his arms around Adam’s waist, pulling him in for a hug. “I think three pairs of jeans and four shirts is overkill, babe.”

Adam leaned into him and sighed. “I need lots of clothes, in case I have to flee over the border.”

Laughing, Dirk placed his hands on Adam’s shoulders and started to rub. “What border is that? Kentucky or Illinois?”

“Har de har har, Dirk. You’ve met my family right? You know how stressful this is going to be. I’ll probably sweat through three of those shirts the first night.” He glanced worriedly toward the suitcase. “Maybe I should add another one.”

Dirk grabbed his arm as he turned toward the closet. “You’re compensating.”

Adam pulled free, heading for the dresser. “Uh, huh. Whatever that means.”

“It means you’re channeling your fears of interacting with your dad into the exterior representation of your personality.”

Adam turned from the dresser with several pairs of socks in his hands. “Exterior, huh…? What the hell are you talking about, Williams?”

Dirk fixed a piercing green gaze on Adam, looking down a strong, almost too large nose at his lover and pursing his cupid’s bow mouth with irritation. “The way you dress. Your hair…”

Adam flung the socks into the overburdened suitcase. “What about my hair?”

Dirk reached over and slipped his fingers through the newly shorn, dark-brown strands. “You look like a Marine.”
Adam grinned, dancing his eyebrows. “You wanna play army?”

“I think Marines are technically part of the Navy, babe.”

Adam expelled a breath. “Being a know-it-all is not one of your better qualities, Williams.”

Dirk stared at him for a long moment and then said. “You cut your hair because you’re trying to make your dad think you’re something you’re not. You’re fussing over your clothes because it’s the one thing in the upcoming situation you can control. And you’re fussing at me because you know I’ll still love you even after you piss me off.”

Adam zipped his suitcase up and lifted it to the floor. “You’ve been insufferable ever since you played that psychiatrist in Mindless Love.”

Dirk grinned. “I rocked that role.”

“Yeah. Well…” Adam rolled his suitcase toward Dirk. “Playing a psychiatrist in a movie doesn’t make you one.”

Dirk tucked his fingers into the waistline of Adam’s jeans and tugged him close. “And playing an asshole in real life doesn’t make you one.” Dirk frowned. “Though at the moment you’re really convincing in the role.”

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CHAINS UNBOUND by Ava Snow

HOUSE OF DOMS by Ava Snow 

Boxed Set Includes: Past Unbound, Love Unbound and Chains Unbound

PAST UNBOUND

Darius and Alia had loved each other a long time. A woman’s jealousy and greed and a father’s need to control tore them apart.

Six years after, his life is turned upside down, Darius McKade returns to his home town. There to run his business and claim the only woman he’s ever loved. He’s changed in a lot of ways. He’s learned and grown into his dominance, and he’ll use what he knows to get what he wants.

Alia Ward has finally put the past behind her—or so she thought. The instant Darius walked into her small bakery she knew she hadn’t. After a moment of weakness, she gives him her body, but will she be able to give him her heart?

LOVE UNBOUND

Slade Jamison has finally found the woman that he feels can be his perfect submissive. But will her past hinder her from submitting fully?

Tiyionna Barnes suffered at the hands of one claiming to be a Dominant. He stripped her of her self-worth and left a shell of who she once was.

Can Slade’s brand of dominance show her that the woman she once was is still there, or will Tiyionna push him away, not willing to take a chance?

CHAINS UNBOUND

Aubrey Lawson has survived a horrific crime, but he’s nobody’s victim. After a dream date that turns into hours of torture, Bre is finally freed—only he wakes up to confront another nightmare: his savior is none other than Devlin Barnes. Dev, with his baritone voice and mesmerizing eyes, is the Dom of Aubrey’s dreams and the last person he wants on his rehab watch.

Bre’s pride—and libido—are pushed to their limits when Devlin insists that he be moved to the Barnes’ house for the rest of his recovery. Dev makes no secret about his own lust for Aubrey, and soon has the gorgeous submissive in his bed, in every meaning of the word. But Devlin’s passion only solidifies Aubrey’s firmest hard limit: he won’t be a charity case to anyone, especially Devlin.

The couple’s fresh commitment is tested when Aubrey steps into danger once more to keep Devlin safe. Can Dev get to him in time? More importantly, can he break through Bre’s chains of pride and self-doubt, and show him the beautiful bondage of lasting love?

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~CHAINS UNBOUND Excerpt~

Releasing his grip on the other man’s neck, he brought his hands up and around to cup his face, bringing the sub’s eyes in contact with his own. He saw raw need and fear warring for space within those emerald depths. “Tell me where you are, Bre. Are you here, with me? Do you want to stop?” Dev knew his voice was deep and demanding, carrying all the lust he felt at the moment.

Bre’s hands tightened in the waist of his pants and when he spoke, it was a whisper that Devlin almost missed. “I’m here with you. I want to feel you all around me…in me. I need you…please.”

The slight tremble is Bre’s voice let Dev know he was still a bit scared, but the determination and lust reflected in his eyes said he was ready for small parts of Devlin’s dominance, if not everything. “Listen to me and listen well. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, I want to hear your safe word. You know I will please and give you what you want, but only when I’m ready. Are you sure you are prepared for me, Bre?” With each word he spoke, he knew his voice went deeper. The Dom in him was at the forefront, primed to take care of what was his. Aubrey’s submission would be his, as would the man himself.

Bre looked him in the eyes and spoke with a firmness that Dev hadn’t heard in weeks. “Yes, Sir.” A low rumble started in his chest as he stepped back, putting a small distance between them. Aubrey’s hands fell to his sides just as his eyes fell to floor.

“Strip and move to the center of the bed, on your hands and knees.”

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HOT NEW BOSS by Cheryl Dragon

HOT NEW BOSS by Cheryl Dragon

All Male Nudes! Series, Book Two

Carl D’Agostino was raised not to believe in dreams or taking risks, still he can’t ignore the desire to be his own boss. Running Big D’s strip club for his aunt is a start, but he can’t resist the chance to get closer to the hottest dancer at the club.

Hunter Campbell juggles various bookkeeping jobs for small gay-owned businesses while stripping to avoid being burned by the corporate grind again. He knows better than to play with the boss, but under the cover of a bet, he seduces Carl. The quiet and professional guy is full of secrets and loves rough sex at the hands of muscle bound Hunter.

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Excerpt:

 

Some believed doing business with family was a mistake, but Carl D’Agostino needed someone he could trust. He stood alone on the still dark side of Big D’s Strip Club in Las Vegas, Nevada. Both sides were fairly identical and kept insanely clean due to his Aunt Bev’s high standards.

Aunt Bev was the most successful member of Carl’s family, at least in his opinion. She’d made her club a destination in a city that had plenty of sex and shows for sale. He’d asked her for the start up loan because he admired her. If she approved of the business plan, he’d feel even more confident about it.

But instead of interest on the loan or part ownership in his business, she’d asked for him to prove himself. At thirty, he’d managed plenty of small night clubs around Vegas. Wanting to start his own club wasn’t so crazy. Unfortunately, his investments had gone bust back when everyone else’s had. He’d been in for high returns, which had meant high risks. He’d pulled out of the stocks before he’d lost it all at only thirty-one-years-old. His investment hadn’t been long-term dollars for retirement. It had been his startup capital.

He’d gambled and lost. Now, he’d manage the strip club for Bev while she was up in Reno working on her deal for a second location with a couple of her best dancers. That meant the club was minus the two top draws, but not the guy Carl had always stared at whenever he’d stopped in to see Bev.

Hunter Campbell stood out because he had real muscle, but it wasn’t grossly overdone. Still, he always drew the caveman routine and bodybuilder acts because of his form. His dark brown hair and piercing green eyes made Carl stare every time he saw Hunter. He had to ignore the part of him that saw something deeper in Hunter’s eyes. Now, he might have to talk to the tanned hunk. Carl wanted to focus on his career, not flings.

The lights snapped on, and Carl turned. Avery, the older African American bartender, waved. Carl knew Avery used to dance, but according to Bev, he’d keep an excellent eye on the men’s side. The bartender on the women’s side was equally good so Carl could float and supervise.

“You can relax. The guys know what they’re doing,” Avery said.

Carl nodded. “I know, but I want to show my aunt I can handle it. Maybe have an idea or two.”

“Ideas are good. The schedule is pretty much set though. It’s only for a couple weeks.” Avery shrugged.

“I know. I won’t get in the way of the normal stuff. Still, a fresh set of eyes never hurt.” Carl knew they didn’t need him. Avery had been here for years, and so had another dancer named Ken, who strutted around as if he were now in charge. The day-to-day stuff would be fine in their hands, and Carl didn’t want to step on any toes. They didn’t understand why Bev had bothered to bring in Carl, but Carl did. It was a test.

“No, nothing wrong with a new perspective, but Bev knows what she’s doing. Rehearsal starts in half an hour. New act ideas are always welcome. She likes to keep the routines fresh. Not sure what you know about dancing or performing, but if you’re trying to impress Bev, start there.” Avery nodded.

Carl smiled. “Thanks.” He was used to people underestimating him. No one would put him on stage. A regular guy who was too tall and on the skinny side, Carl wasn’t turning down tons of dates. He was smart, but unlike his parents, a routine corporate job couldn’t satisfy him. His mom and dad talked about Aunt Bev as if she were the black sheep and crazy. While Carl wouldn’t dance on stage naked, he admired her for wanting more than working for others.

She owned this place and was expanding to a second location. It was a huge responsibility and risk…and that was something his parents hated. Since business school, Carl had been learning about the real world and had been burned. Part of him wondered how bad it would be to get a middle management job in some casino or other business. He could take up rock climbing for an adrenaline rush.

In the end, he’d never last. He wanted to be the boss, the owner who’d profit from the risk and hard work. Aunt Bev was giving him a shot, and he couldn’t screw it up. He’d manage the club and keep things steady, but if he wanted that money, he knew he’d have to show her something worth investing in.

* * * *

Hunter spotted their temporary boss exiting Bev’s office and went back around the women’s side, so Carl didn’t see him. The cash bag and receipts were dropped off, and it was rehearsal time. Carl had been the subject of a ton of talk by the dancers.

In the rehearsal studio, Hunter changed into comfortable shorts and a T-Shirt. Stretching, he blended in with the other men. Ken led a familiar routine and put the newer dancers into a loop until they were flawless.

Ken walked over to Hunter and smiled. “Seems the new boss will let us do our jobs in peace.”

“We don’t need a babysitter,” Peter piped up from Hunter’s other side.

Hunter kept quiet as they finished the stretches. Peter was a ballet veteran who could out bend and dance anyone. Peter was hard to impress and not a big fan of new blood.

“Bev wants family in charge. We won’t let her down,” Ken said.

“The guy is in the club. I don’t think he’s a total slacker.” Hunter kept the books, so he found himself alone with Bev at various times. He’d heard a lot about Carl from Bev. She loved her nephew and believed in him. Too bad, his family had doubts that they’d infused in the man. Hunter had never admitted an attraction to Carl, but then again, he and Carl had never even spoken. After all Bev’s chatter, Hunter felt as if he knew the new boss.

“He better not try to change everything.” Peter sighed.

Ken nodded. “We’re a well-oiled machine. Hunter, you’ll be on every night since we’re short two dancers.”

“Fine.” Hunter normally was a part-time dancer. He did the books here, as well as for a few other small local businesses. Dancing fulltime would mess up his schedule a bit, but more cash tips weren’t bad since tax season hadn’t ramped up yet. The guys he did taxes for were the last minute types, but he’d earn a lot of cash from those late nights as well.

He’d been laid off in the downturn. Vegas had taken a serious beating all around, and the recovery had been slow. Small gay owned businesses and stripping had saved him. The rush he felt on stage beat any boring day job. Now, going back to the grind of a day job seemed foolish. All your eggs in one company’s basket meant at any time they could toss you out…splat!

Now, he had multiple bookkeeping clients and the stripping thing. It wasn’t perfect, but if one business closed, another opened. He had more connections and options now.

Ken called for the dancers to work on their own acts. The guys broke up into groups and rehearsal went on as normal. After Ken gave some of the newer guys a few pointers, he walked back over to Hunter.

“I wonder why Carl isn’t in here,” Ken said.

“Maybe he’s not gay?” Peter shrugged.

“Why does that matter?” Ken replied.

Hunter chuckled at how Ken pinched his lips together and studied all the performers. Ken was a great dancer and a perfectionist. He seemed content to dance forever. Hunter respected his dedication since Ken was no young hot stud. The guys called him the Silver Fox behind his back because his blond hair was slowly silvering. There was no debate that Ken’s body was still good.

“Not every dancer is gay. We give the customers what they want to look at. If Carl can’t handle naked men, he’s not doing his aunt any favors.” Ken tapped his toe to the music.

“That’s true. Think he’s gay?” Peter asked.

Ken inhaled and pouted. “No. If he liked it, he’d come around and help his aunt all the time. She’s not a prude. He’d get comped at the bar and the door. Why wouldn’t he bring friends in and stir up business for his aunt? She’d be flaunting her gay nephew all over the men’s side, especially for pride events.”

Peter nodded. “Probably.”

Hunter understood Ken’s assessment, but part of him hoped for better things. Just as Carl stepped into the room, the attraction hit Hunter hard, and he blurted out, “No, he’s gay. I’d bet on it.”

The look in Carl’s brown eyes made Hunter sure of it. The guy was cute and sexy. Tall and lean, he had curly black hair and a shy smile. His clothes didn’t show off his body, and his shoulders slumped as if he didn’t want to be noticed for being so tall. Not a huge flirt and not movie star handsome, Carl could be overlooked by plenty of men. Hunter liked diamonds in the rough.

“Bet? How do we prove that?” Ken asked.

“I think Hunter wants to find out for himself,” Peter said.

Ken folded his arms. “Well, he’ll have to prove it if he wants to collect on an actual wager.”

“Terms?” Hunter knew Ken loved a good wager to keep things entertaining around the strip club.

“Five hundred cash. You have two weeks while Bev is out of town to find out if he’s gay,” Ken said.

“How can you prove that without getting graphic?” Peter smirked.

Hunter cleared his throat as Carl wandered closer. “I’m not taking any bedroom pics. A kiss should do it. A long, serious kiss here, witnessed by Ken.”

Ken nodded. “Fine, we’re just after sexuality confirmation. I don’t care if you score. But you can’t pin him down and force the make out session.”

“Please, Carl and Bev would fire him for that. She’s tough on sexual harassment,” Peter said.

“I’m not going to push myself on a straight guy anyway. Peter, you’re the witness?” Hunter held out a hand.

“Sure,” Peter replied.

“It’s a bet.” Ken shook Hunter’s hand. “Two weeks.”

“It probably won’t even take one.” Hunter smiled at Carl. One week for a kiss, no problem. If Hunter had his way, he’d soon have a lot more. The bet was just the cover he needed so the other dancers didn’t freak out when he made a play for the new boss. Peter had moved on already and was no doubt talking about the latest bet. Gay or straight, men loved to one-up each other. Winning was always good.

Ken shook his head. “You can do better, Hunter.”

“You’re shallow, Ken,” Hunter replied.

“We’re selling sex. It’s the business.” Ken shrugged. “Sexy people sell the fantasy. Whatever you’re up to, I hope you know what you’re doing. Bev loves her family, and if you screw him over in a bad way…job over.”

Carl came over as Ken went back to running the men through the acts they knew so well they needed no coaching. Hunter knew Ken was absolutely right. If he hurt Carl, Bev would be royally pissed. That wasn’t pretty, but deep down, Hunter couldn’t resist the chance.

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SELLING IT by Sara York

SELLING IT by Sara York

Love heals all scars.

Teens are dying and Blaine Wilson, a DC police detective, knows why. The scars on his right leg, left rib cage and
left collar bone are a brutal reminder of his past as a teen prostitute, and a key to solving this investigation.

Blaine’s trips to gay bars are reckless but he’s searching for solace for his wounds. When he meets Andy everything changes. Dating Andy forces him out of the closet at work and then he has to admit his past indiscretions to his captain.

Andy falls in love at the drop of a hat and he's promised his two best friends he won't fall so easily again. When he meets Blaine he's helpless to resist the instant attraction.

Andy and Blaine are dedicated to making their relationship work when the killer targets Andy and his two best friends. Can Blaine save his lover and Andy’s friends without losing himself?

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Copyright © Sara York, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.

Excerpt From: Selling It

Blaine couldn’t have imagined a worse ending. Blood covered the floor of the shit motel room and sprayed up the walls, almost to the ceiling. He glanced down at the broken body and cringed. The neck wound had probably caused most of this mess. His heart squeezed and his eyes burned. Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose to stop any tears from falling. Hell, he was a seasoned detective and shouldn’t show weakness, plus if the others found out it would come back to haunt him. There’d be jokes around the station about him crying like a baby. He shivered. No emotion, and no weakness.

He’d seen this kind of injury before. He knew the boy had felt the pain, suffering in death just as he’d suffered in life. Unconsciously, Blaine’s right hand sought out his own scars. First the fingers of his right hand grazed his left collarbone, then his left ribs, finally coming to rest on his right hip. Then, realizing what he was doing, he covered his movements by cocking his hip to the side and resting his hand there, as if he were casually observing the scene. Casual was far from how he felt. His blood boiled and his head spun.

The boy must have been scared shitless. He’d seen the knife coming at him—had to have.

“Hey, Wilson, how come you always stand like that at murder scenes? Never mind, I’m sure ice water runs through your veins.” His partner, Lucy Abbot, sauntered into the room. She was short, sassy and quick to laugh. Eventually, after he’d worked with her for long enough, she would expect answers that he wouldn’t want to give. Why didn’t he date, what was his hang-up about girls? Ugh, maybe he should...but no, not yet.

“This is a mess,” Blaine said.

“People round here don’t know how to murder clean. Always is a mess.” Lucy pulled on a pair of gloves and flexed her fingers.

“He’s probably around fifteen, maybe sixteen.” Blaine knew the kid had to have been desperate. It was the only reason anyone would pick this life filled with skanky hook-ups, all for a little cash.

“Think he had family?” Lucy bent down to examine the body.

“Abbot, everyone has family. The question is why they didn’t give a rip shit about him.”

Her gaze connected with his. She looked hurt. “They might have cared and just didn’t know what to do.”

“No mother or father would ever want their little boy out here selling himself like this.”

“We don’t know he was a prostitute.”

Blaine looked away from the body, no longer able to stomach the scene. “The kid was a pro. Look at how skinny he was. His fingernails are black, his knees worn. Just look at the red marks. He spent his free time on his knees, either blowing or being screwed.”

“Poor kid.” Lucy’s voice was full of pity.

Blaine didn’t want to think about the life the kid had lived. Didn’t want to think about the desperation of not knowing where your next meal would come from. The self-loathing and hate that accompanied turning tricks, or the false bravado the kid would’ve had to have to keep up the life.

Flashes of desperate nights and lonely days played through his head. He blocked them out, focusing on the meticulous tasks of gathering evidence. The crime scene techs were doing their job, but he couldn’t sit still. He slid on gloves and began sorting through the boy’s clothes.

The kid'’s shoes were dirty and eaten through at the sole. Somehow the shoes had escaped the bloody mess. They must have been taken off before he was attacked.

Blaine carefully bagged each shoe. Next, he folded the shirt where it lay and slid the material into an evidence bag. He bunched the underwear and pants together so he didn’t drop any stray hairs or fibres, then placed them in a separate bag.

After labelling each bag he called the photographer over and had them take shots of the bagged clothes and the flooring underneath where the clothing had been flung.

Lucy finished her conversation with one of the crime scene techs and made her way towards him. For a moment he wondered what she would say if she knew the truth about him. No one in DC had any idea. Hell, no one in his life knew of his past.

“Did it look like the clothes had been removed before death?” Lucy asked.

“Probably so. The techies will need to have the final say on that. What about you? Any thoughts?”

“Whoever did this is a bastard.”

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ALL OR NOTHING AT ALL by Carolina Valdez

ALL OR NOTHING AT ALL by Carolina Valdez

Duty robbed them of their last night together. A deadly fireball struck Earth's New Los Angeles in the late afternoon, and instead of an evening of dinner and passionate sex with his lover, Battalion Chief David Garrison reported for duty and led his elite firewarrior squadron to fight the raging flames engulfing historic L.A. At first light the next morning, duty sends David's lover, Dillon Rapner, a special agent working undercover, off world to ferret out the source of these incendiary bombs destroying Old Town.

During his search, Dillon is captured and enslaved for several years on another planet. Only thoughts of returning to David, the man he would love forever, keeps Dillon alive and determined to escape.

Never in his wildest imaginings, however, did Dillon expect that when he returned to Earth he'd find another man in David's bed...

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~Excerpt~

...As Dillon talked, he reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head and off.

Even as weary as he was, David’s groin tightened at the sight of that familiar, well-muscled chest, the heat and touch of which he knew. He stopped chewing.

“Tomorrow we’ll start work. It’s possible we can make some sales here.” Their cover was as salesmen, but in code the words conveyed the message that they’d search for the source of the phosphorus and other rare elements used in the fireballs as well as for a launching station.

David knew finding these things would be a dead giveaway this planet was the bomb source. In response to diplomatic inquiries, Oragone’s Supreme Authority had denied the attacks originated there, and even the Intergalactic Council couldn’t budge them on this, but the launches continued. The fact was, unless the fireballs were shot from some undetected space vehicle, their planet was in the right trajectory and orbit to have launched them.

“Find the sons of a gun, man,” David said. As a warrior, he wanted to stop having to kill the havoc created by the incendiaries. It was unbelievable to him that their enemies didn’t seem to know they were firing on a basically dead part of the city. The more terrifying part was wondering what would happen if they ever figured that out.

As Dillon talked, his gold and amber eyes seemed to bore into David’s as he unbuckled the belt on his trousers and slid the zipper down with deliberate slowness.

David almost choked on the food in his mouth as he heard its casual whisper and watched it reveal black boxer briefs, which should be as sleek as Dillon’s sports car, but right now housed a large bulge straining their front. Dillon discarded the dark slacks and briefs, then turned and leaned over to fold his slacks and lay them on the bed. The smooth roundness of a butt that was at once firm and yet not so hard it didn’t have a sexy give when squeezed, hid the bunghole at the base of the crevice between its globes. His balls swung loose and low between thighs David knew weren’t as large as his own, but were still hard and powerful. Waves of sensation rushed through him as images of the unbridled sex they’d planned for that last night flashed like a kaleidoscope in his head.

The camera’s lens zoomed in close as Dillon turned. “I’ll show you mine, if you’ll show me yours.”

A dick already at half-mast emerged from a tight bush of tawny curls. Dillon continued to speak, his voice hoarse with sensuality, his words explicit and erotic.

David hadn’t expected interplanetary sex. All thoughts of food fled. He stopped listening to the words that followed, letting their cadence lure him as Dillon’s hand closed around his dick and played with it. Fascinated, hardly daring to breathe, David watched Dillon tug it out and in, out and in, thrusting his hips at David as fine threads spun from a wet cock, its veins so distended the foreskin slipped back and the enlarging tip of his penis turned purplish.

David’s breathing quickened to match the sound of Dillon’s. The dick cradled in the caressing fingers was in full cock mode as he played with the crown and smeared the creamy pre-cum over it, as if to lube it for penetration. He pointed the head directly at David and thrust his hips at him.

“Bear in mind what you see is only half-size,” Dillon said.

David’s laugh at Dillon’s humor ended in a groan. His aroused cock threatened to stain, even as it strained to break free of his workout pants. He stood, stepped away from the bar and thrust pants and briefs to his ankles. The air hit, washing his hard, hot, hungry length with coolness. He wanted to switch the camera on so Dillon could see this big, hungry cock, but he’d been fighting hell in Old Town when the transmission came in. It was prerecorded, not live.

“You’re killing me,” he said through gritted teeth. “So close and yet so far, far away...”


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