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Mastering Toby celebration contest

March 29, 2010

Jared Asche has secretly loved Toby Rafferty from the moment he grabbed Toby’s bare ass and had pretend sex with him for the cameras on the soap Mission Bay. But Jared knows Toby is straight and just needs a friend, so he lives with the pain of unrequited love… until Toby impulsively kisses him, crossing the line between friends and lovers.

Jared’s hopes for life and love with Toby are crushed—but Toby’s not willing to give up. He’ll have to convince Jared that his intentions are serious if they’re going to weather this and other threats to their newborn relationship.

Mastering Toby is now available from Dreamspinner Press in ebook and paperback.

I am hosting a special contest for a signed print copy of Mastering Toby on my yahoo group. Details here.

Contest Winners!

March 22, 2010

Thank you to everyone who participated in the virtual release party for A Brush of Wings on Sunday, March 21. And congratulations to our contest winners, who will each receive a free copy of the anthology.

eBook winner: Vambrace
Paperback winner: vslavetopassionv

Get a copy for yourself at Dreamspinner Press!

Morning Glow by Taylor Lochland (A Brush of Wings)

March 22, 2010

Hi all, I’m Taylor Lochland, and I’m here with an excerpt of my story, Morning Glow, which is part of the “A Brush of Wings” anthology.

When I saw the submission call for this anthology, I knew I had to try to write something for it.  I’ve always had a soft spot for angels — both celestial and human.  It took me awhile to come up with a concept, though, and the story went through a few incarnations before the final version came to be (thanks to some great feedback).  Enjoy the excerpt, and enjoy the anthology!  I’m looking forward to reading the rest of the stories myself.

Blurb: Benjamin and Alan have been friends since high school. Though they often drift apart, Alan always seems to come back when Benjamin needs him the most—like when Ben is grieving over a bad breakup. As always, Ben feels better just from spending time with Alan, but then he realizes he’s in love with Alan. This time when Alan takes off again, Ben isn’t going to let him go without a fight.

Excerpt:

Benjamin Winfield rubbed his eyes, looked at the clock, and saw it was already six in the morning. He yawned, unsure he’d get through the remaining hour of his shift, and went back to work on the patient charts. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and the papers fluttered to the floor and landed in a pile against the counter.

“Sorry about that.” Lisa, one of his fellow nurses, bent down to help retrieve the fallen paperwork. “You look like you’re about ready to collapse. Still having trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah.” It had been weeks since Benjamin managed a full eight hours, and it had nothing to do with working the night shift at the hospital. His two-year relationship with Ray had recently fallen apart, leaving Benjamin feeling like he was falling apart as well. Focusing on his work was the only thing that held him together, and that only barely.

“Maybe you should go home early and try to get some rest.” Lisa handed him the folders and looked at him with a sympathetic smile. “It’s slow right now. Tara and I can cover for you until the day shift gets here.”

Benjamin set the charts down. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go home to his empty apartment an hour earlier than he had to, but a wave of exhaustion that forced him to lean on the counter convinced him to accept the offer. “If you’re sure it’s all right.”

“It’s all right.” Lisa folded her arms across her chest and nodded in the direction of the door. “Now get out of here. Your friend’s out there waiting for you.”

“My friend?”

“Yeah. Cute skinny guy, short brown hair, about your age. I take it you weren’t expecting him?”

That woke Benjamin up. “No, but I think I know who it is.”

Benjamin clocked out, retrieved his things from his locker, and headed out into the waiting room. He grinned when Alan James, his oldest friend, looked up from a seat in the corner.

Alan closed the battered copy of Field & Stream he’d been reading. “Hi, Ben. Snuck out of your shift early, did you?” With the exception of slightly longer bangs, he looked the same as he had the last time they’d seen each other almost two years ago. It wasn’t the first time they’d been apart so long. Alan often had to go away for some reason or other, and even though they’d say they’d keep in touch, it never worked out that way. Still, Alan always managed to find his way back, usually when Benjamin needed him the most.

“They let me escape.” Benjamin glanced at the magazine. “In all the years I’ve known you, I never knew you were the outdoorsy type.”

Alan set the magazine on the nearby table. “It was that or Ladies’ Home Journal.”

“You can find some useful information in the journal.”

“It’s a shame I didn’t have time to go through both.” Alan stood up, walked up to Benjamin, and threw his arms around him. “Sorry I haven’t been in touch.”

The world seemed a little brighter as Benjamin returned the hug. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to see you.” He gave Alan’s back a few pats and then pulled away. “What are you doing here?”

“Duh. What do you think? I’m looking for you. I got back to town a few days ago. I tried to call your cell, but Ray answered, and he told me you guys split up. Sorry to hear that.” Alan briefly touched Benjamin’s hand, and Benjamin felt even better. “He told me you still worked the night shift here, so I decided to drop by. I asked around and found out you were working today, so I waited for you.” Alan chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess that makes me your stalker.”

Benjamin laughed for the first time in days. “If it was anyone but you, I’d agree. Anyway, yeah, my old phone was under Ray’s plan, so I had to get a new one.”

Purchase the anthology at Dreamspinner Press:

eBook: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=1738

Paperback: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=1757

Brush of Wings, “Some Comfort” S. Blaise

March 21, 2010

Yes I am still alive and still writing!  Life has been fairly busy for me recently, including moving house, but I couldn’t resist this submission call and I’m so glad I didn’t.  Taking a quick read through other posts it looks like there are some amazing stories in this anthology and I’m very happy that my little morsel of fiction is amongst them.

Story blurb:  Dale is having a hard time adjusting to everyday reality after returning from combat when he runs into Mal, a fellow soldier who’d saved his life during a missile attack. Mal seems determined to continue to watch over him even though Dale knows very little about the other man.  Why does Mal have such faith in him?  And will it be enough to drive the darkness inside Dale away?

A bit about “Some Comfort”:  The story was inspired by the Sarah McLachlan song “Angels” which I love, and its lyrics were where I got the title from.  Apparently the song is actually about the heroin overdose of Smashing Pumpkins’ keyboard player Jonathan Melvoin, who died in 1996 so . . . oops?  But I think like all good songs the lyrics can transcend their original meaning and have other interpretations, and it was my own view of the song that inspired the story.

Anyway enough of my blethering, onto the excerpt!

Dale shrugged again.  “I don’t know.  It’s not like I buy into the whole ‘angel’ belief really; it’s only another thing people use to keep them from realizing just how shit life really is.”

“Hmm,” Mal replied noncommittally.  “You didn’t always think that way, though.”

Dale’s eyebrows rose.  “No, I suppose not,” he recalled.  “We were never a religious family, but I remember in my bedroom there’d been this picture of an angel, an old painting I think had been my gran’s.  I’d always liked lying on my bed looking at it.  Whenever I was upset or scared, it always calmed me down.”

The angel had been wearing the typical loose-fitting white robe, with long, wavy hair flowing down.  Dale couldn’t remember now what she had been looking at in the painting, but he would always remember the expression on her face: one of sweet, benevolent serenity.  He’d often felt she was looking at him, as if telling him everything would be all right.  He tried to describe the picture to Mal, holding back his feelings about it.

“Are you sure it was a female angel in that picture?” Mal asked him.  “Angels are supposed to be sexless, you know.”

“Poor bastards.”  Mal’s warm, delighted laugh washed over him, urging his own lips to turn up in a weak smile.  “I’m probably going to Hell for saying that, aren’t I?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it; you’re only human, you’re allowed to make a joke or two.  So what happened to that picture?”

“I don’t know; I took it down when I hit my hormonal teenage years.  It probably got thrown out or given to charity ages ago.”

“A shame.”

Dale shrugged once more.  It wasn’t like he had any use for it now.  Funny, the things you remembered from childhood.  “What are you doing here, Mal?” he asked again, realizing the other man had never answered his question.

Anthology page on Dreamspinner:

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=50&products_id=1738

I also just found out today that the story I submitted for the June Daily Dose anthology, Midsummer’s Nightmare, has been accepted!  It’s called Vampire Movie Night and is more comedy than horror with a bit of a twist at the end.  Please keep an eye out for it!

“In the Hands of Gods” by Jana Denardo in “A Brush of Wings” anthology

March 21, 2010

Hi everyone!

This is my first book launch virtual party so I feel completely awkward but never let it be said I cannot talk about myself. Talking is what I do best. I’m very excited to be here. While this isn’t my first time in an anthology, it’s the first time for all the hoopla and I find that fantastic. If we’re excited, then hopefully the readers will be, too. And I hope you’re as excited as I am to see A Brush of Wings. My story In the Hands of Gods is but one story and I’m looking to see all the stories I’ll be sharing space with. I can’t wait.

I love the open calls Dreamspinner Press has. I find having a theme helps me a lot. I set my mind to turning the theme around and around until it comes up with something. As soon as I saw the description of what A Brush of Wings would be about, I knew two things; I wanted to write something for it and that I didn’t want to do something with angels. Not that there is anything wrong with angels but I knew immediately I wanted to try working with another culture and belief system.

I love history and I’ve done a lot of research on Pompeii for another story years ago. I dug out the old files and thought to myself, this is perfect. It’s a topic I know a lot about and is easily researched so I settled on using the Lares, a personal guardian that were very popular in Roman culture during the time of Pompeii. The city itself is practically a living, breathing character in the story. It has its own inherent tragedy just waiting to happen and that is the underlying focus of the story. Priscus is the Lar for the Rufus family. Tiberius has captured his guardian spirit’s attention since the moment he was born. Now a young man, in charge of an olive oil empire, Tiberius cannot be left to die when Mount Vesuvius erupts so his loving Lar sets out to make sure Tiberius survives. I did sort of pick an excerpt that’s dead center of the story but I thought it was one of the more romantic and evocative of the time period. I hope you enjoy it.

EXCERPT Another of the bath servants let them lie side by side on the slender cots in the apodyterium. The two wealthy men were covered in olive oil. Out of the corner of his eye, Tiberius watched the servant massage the oil into Priscus’ tanned flesh until it gleamed. The oil highlighted the definition of Priscus’ muscles. Tiberius shut his eyes as the bone stirgil touched his skin. He half drowsed as the servant scraped the dirt sticking to the oil off his body. When they were done, both men padded naked except for sandals toward the next stop in the bath, servants with towels trailing after them.

Tiberius was delighted to find the frigidarium to be empty. The snowy white marble matched the cold spring it encompassed. Without a word to Priscus, he slithered under the water, his whole body shuddering as his heated muscles were engulfed by the cold water. Sputtering, Tiberius surfaced, leaning against the marble to wait for Priscus to resurface.

Priscus came up, sluicing water off his dark curls. He rested on the marble, the deep bronze of his skin highlighted by the white stone. “That felt good.”

“This is a wonderful bath,” Tiberius replied, sinking down to his chin to let the cold water firm up his muscles.

“As fine as any we have in Rome,” Priscus agreed, climbing back out.

Tiberius would have liked to linger in the cold water after his long run but he didn’t want Priscus to get too far ahead of him. Exercising hadn’t been conducive to talking but bathing would be.

The tepidarium was the prettiest room in the bath. Murals graced the deep red, stucco walls. Ceilings arched over the mosaic floors. Three bronze benches sat next to the braiser. The gently heated metal warmed his bottom, which could use it after the cold spring. Priscus sat with Tiberius on the bench. Tiberius’ limbs loosened as he stared up at the ceiling, letting the tepidarium’s warm air prepare his body for the next step.

Priscus’ arm went slightly behind Tiberius’ back as the other young man leaned on it. His dark eyes studied Tiberius as Priscus leaned closer. For a heart-racing moment, Tiberius thought Priscus might press his generous lips against his. “Have you given any thought about coming to Rome?”

Tiberius blinked at the suddenness of the question. “No, not really.”

Priscus sat back a bit, his lips pinching into a pout. “I would have thought you might since you’ve moved into that market.”

“I haven’t ruled that out,” Tiberius replied, unsure where that came from. He had never given it any thought at all and had no idea what he would do in Rome. He’d know no one there: except for Priscus that was.

“That’s good to know.” Priscus shifted on the bench. His thigh rubbed against Tiberius.

Tiberius squirmed away just a little. The touch may have been accidental but his interest in the man was too fevered. He didn’t want to risk anything indecent happening in public.

WHERE TO FIND IT
You can find the whole story and many more at the following links
paperback release

ebook release

And if you like what you see, you can find a nap-sized dream from me right here. Mysterious Spirit is a fantasy story with a heavy bondage, submissive/dominance theme. Also there’ll be another one by me in an upcoming Dreamspinner Press’s anthology, Necking. This one is a threesome of demon hunters set in 1930s Pittsburgh, PA (see what I mean about my history love).

That should be enough self promotion for now. If you want to know more about any of the stories or about me, feel free to ask. Like I said, talking is one of my favorite things.

“The Tenth Avatar” in “A Brush of Wings” anthology

March 21, 2010

I’m delighted that “The Tenth Avatar” will be included in the anthology “A Brush of Wings,” because this short story represents my return to fiction writing after a hiatus during which I concentrated on other pursuits.  It really is just like riding a bicycle: you just climb back on and keep pumping away (so to speak). “The Tenth Avatar” is essentially a coming-out story (or, more accurately, a “coming-out for good” story) with supernatural overtones. Here’s a brief excerpt.  Arun is a young Hindu guy who lives and works in the USA. He is being pressured to marry (a woman) by his family back home in India. Arun has inherited a bronze statue of Kalki, a Hindu divinity (the “tenth avatar” of the title) from a relative. The man who delivers the statue to Arun’s apartment just happens to be Jack, an attractive blue-collar type Arun has met and flirted with in a bar on a previous occasion. After the statue of Kalki is uncrated, things start to heat up. Luckily for Arun, Jack turns out to be the kind of delivery man who believes in Full Customer Service.

A Trail of Feathers – Sarah Ann Watts – A Brush of Wings Anthology

March 21, 2010

The opening to my story published in A Brush of Wings tomorrow!

A Trail of Feathers

I’M stumbling out into the late dawn of another New Year’s Day, trying to pretend that, like everyone else at this all-night party, I have somewhere to go, a family to welcome me—the prodigal son returning to the fold, a lover to keep me warm. I remember how Luke would have laughed at my headache and told me I deserved it, while at the same time giving me his own comfort. Now my new “friends” are dispersing in a scattering to lit homes. There was no milk for coffee, and the Bailey’s we used instead only seemed like a good idea at the time, leaving a sickly taste upon the tongue.

This day is all too short; grey, crisp, and already people are out taking down festive lights, reeling in Christmas decorations, and stripping walls bare. The holiday is over, and after a score of crowded nights when I laughed louder, partied harder, went home to strangers’ beds, and tried to lose myself in revelry, the truth hurts.

Another year later—another year older—and what do I have to show for it?

God, I feel the cold. I wrap my arms around myself to keep warm. I was a fool to venture out without a coat, and I left the car at home. I never expected to be walking home alone; somehow, when the inevitable invitation came, I said no.

That was one hell of a New Year’s resolution, to say no, and for what? The chance to shiver just short of noon and trek back to a cold and empty flat. This glow of virtue doesn’t keep me warm, but what else is there? Today of all days, on the cusp of a new year, I should be looking forward, not back. I should do a lot of things; caution tells me, there is grief in memory. I know I can’t run forever. Not today. Not when I remember the day we first met. Today is for Luke.

There is nowhere more pointless than a church on New Year’s Day, all festivity gone, burnt out like the Christmas candles, leaving only a mess to scrape away.

Still, I find myself drawn to the doors, and I push them open. There is little light in the grey skies, and the interior is subdued, a fusty taint to the air of stale incense and scattered prayers. The greenery is fading, brittle holly leaves and dying flowers spilling petals. Dust shifts beneath my feet, waiting for the cleaners to come in after the holidays.

There is nothing here to welcome me. I linger, trying to recapture the past, but it slips though my fingers.

I try to think why I came in here, why I want to light a candle for Luke, and why I won’t put the taper to the wax to remember. Luke is worth more than a candle. I don’t need to see his face new-kindled in the flame when it is with me always.

 paperback

ebook

This is my first publication with Dreamspinner Press and I’m delighted to be in such great company. I couldn’t resist writing an angel story and the idea of tripping over a man shedding feathers in the street led to everything else…

I knew from the beginning that this had to be a New Year’s Day story and I wrote it either side of the holiday – so at the time I was writing the first paragraphs I was putting up decorations even as Daniel, my MC is watching everything ripped down around him.

The Bailey’s detail is true life – everything else is fiction but the story is all about hope and new beginnings.

Please visit me at www.sarahannwatts.com

Whipped Cream Reviews nominate To Keep and to Love for book of the week

March 6, 2010

My novel To Keep and to Love received a very nice 5-cherry review from Whipped Cream Reviews last week. You can read it here:

http://whippedcream2.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-keep-and-to-love-by-serena-yates.html?zx=2fe3b927a21056cc

Now it has also been nominated for book of the week! I would appreciate it if you’d consider dropping by to give it your vote:

http://www.longandshortreviews.com/WC/recentrev.htm

Thanks for your support!

Serena
www.serenayates.com

A to Z

March 5, 2010

I don’t usually share my naughty scenes, but I decided to give you all a quickie.  It’s also the first thing you get to see from Angelo’s point of view.

*****

I wake up to hands on my hips and lips on my stomach. Zach’s hair is still wet, and cold drops fall on my skin. He’s lyin’ between my legs, and his tongue is movin’ over the tattoo on my stomach. I’m immediately painfully hard.

“You’re awake,” he says quietly and moves lower. My breath catches. My hips arch up toward him. He’s already anticipated me, and before I expect it, I’m pushin’ through his lips, feelin’ his tongue movin’ around my head.

I grab his hair before I even know what I’m doin’. I feel bad about it right away, though. Know how much I hate it when guys do it to me. “Is this okay?” I manage to ask.

He stops and looks up at me in surprise, and I wish I kept my mouth shut. He smiles. “Of course.” He puts his tongue on the bottom of my shaft, licks all the way up to the top. “Is this okay?”

Can’t believe he’s teasin’ me. I clench my fingers in his hair. “Zach, please….”

“What?”

I push his head back down. Not too hard. Not to be mean. Push just a little and say, “More, Zach.”

He smiles at me. “Anything you want.” His mouth closes over me again.

Seems like everything’s more intense with him. The water drippin’ onto my stomach is cold enough to give me goose bumps, but his mouth is so warm. He spends a lot of time circlin’ my ridge with his tongue, teasin’ that soft spot below my slit. Sucks hard but only on the head. Pressure builds and builds, and I have to push deeper, but when I try, his hands hold my hips to the bed. I try to push his head, but he won’t let me. Just teases ’round the top, over and over, ’til I cry out, “Zach!” Actually feel him smile then, and the pressure on my hips is suddenly gone. I thrust up. I push his head down. That sudden warmth slidin’ down my length is overwhelmin’. Like a damn breakin’. Orgasm hits me so hard, I almost cry out. Bite down on my lip hard enough to taste blood. Pull his hair so hard, I think it’s gonna come out in my hands. He just pulls me in deeper, holds my hips so I can’t pull away. That beautiful agony tears through me, out of me, into him, and still he holds me there, until all that’s left is the shakin’, and I’m tryin’ to catch my breath.

When I open my eyes again, he’s smilin’ down at me. He kisses me, licks my swollen lip. “You can pull my hair anytime, Ang.”

Hey Robin!

February 27, 2010

I’ve noted your request for a signed copy and the folks at Dreamspinner Press will get on it Monday! Thanks so much for your kind comments regarding my books. I’m pretty sure you’ll like “Jack and Dave,” a lot! Please by all means send me an e-mail at: johnsimpsonbooks@hotmail.com and let me know what you think of it!

Hugs,

John Simpson