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Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 20

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I didn’t use a prompt because they were all holiday related and none of them fit. Didn’t want to skip an installment over that, now would I?

Vivian’s chat with Nathan brings out some unexpected information.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 20

“Are you planning on tinkering with that clock for much longer?”

“It’s what I do. I’m almost done.”

Rother gave me an impatient sigh. Sprawled out naked on the bed, he waited for me. His erect member flagged, the indecent stroking having ended some time ago. In all fairness, I would have completed fixing the clock if I hadn’t continued to take sideways glances at his efforts. Even after all the carnal things we’d shared, his frank hedonism unsettled me.

“A hobby may be useful for you to spend your time, but I don’t prefer to come second to it.”

“You act as if there’s nothing more between us but physical relations.”

A crease formed over the bridge of his nose as he rolled onto his side. “The real world will force its way in soon enough and we won’t have the opportunity to indulge ourselves like this very often.”

Setting down my tools, I exhaled. “I know. You’re right.”

“What’s bothering you?”

I froze. Since I came back inside, I’d been fiddling with the broken clock to little success, which was not like me. Delicate machinery would usually dance with me, calming my rough edges, but I struggled to make it work.

“Why do you ask?”

“I can see your agitation through your Victorian veneer.”

Either my skill at maintaining a facade was slipping or Rother’s uncanny ability to read a man surpassed it. I wasn’t happy with either prospect. “I had a run-in with Vivian in the hallway.”

“Yes. I think you handled yourself brilliantly.”

“You heard us?”

“I heard voices. I made a point to listen. The walls aren’t that thick.”

The altercation’s offense was now dwarfed by the knowledge that all my uncontrollable noises during our active lovemaking could be heard by any passersby.

“The whole incident disturbed me.”

“Don’t let it bother you. Vivian has a habit of believing everyone wants to hear every random thought that escapes her skull.”

Vivian said many things in an effort to undermine my new marriage, and she succeeded to a point. Repetitious venom echoed in my head refusing to be silent. With what little I knew of my husband, I couldn’t throw out her crass words as lies.

“Does she tell the truth?”

Rother shrugged as he rolled onto his back, looking at the ceiling. “I suppose her version, anyways.”

“She made improper comments about you.”

“Of course she did.” Rother snorted. “Vivian wishes I would rekindle our brief yet lackluster affair.”

My stomach dropped at his admission. I couldn’t disguise my disappointment as my breathing quickened. “You’ve been with her?”

“It was a number of years ago.” Rother’s tone was dismissive, but it didn’t improve my mood.

In her destructive manner, Vivian had told me as much, but I’d chased it away, clinging to a thready hope it was false. Yet, somehow, I heard the truth when she spewed it over me. Memories of all the new intimacies Rother taught me were now mixed with images of Vivian. No matter how pretty she was, how could anyone find her attractive enough to share such things after spending more than five minutes with the vacuous harpy? I felt unclean thinking of what they shared.

“How could you? With her?”

Rother sat upright and slung his feet over the edge to the floor. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“I’m not sure I like the idea of living in the same house as your scandalous indiscretions.” I couldn’t believe the standards in Francine could be so lax this scenario could be found acceptable.

“That’s enough,” he snarled.

Rother stood tall, his aura of command undiminished by his lack of clothing. The flickering light from the fireplace sharpened the shadows on his skin, giving his face an unexpected hardness. I, however, was too offended to cower.

“Just how many others are under this roof as well?”

With a growl, Rother squared his shoulders, his mouth drawing thin. “I will not dignify that with a answer. Nathan, I realize you were raised to see all physical relations as obscenity, but I will not sit back and be taken to trial for my past by a man who has none.”

“That is not my fault.”

“Your past, no, but your endless judgments are all yours. Judgments you learned from the very people who locked up your honor. Remember, without me you’d still be wearing that damned chastity belt. I think the least you could do is show me a little gratitude.”

I gasped at his audacity. “Like all the other virgins did?”

Rother said nothing, but his whole body tightened, radiating his displeasure. I hadn’t missed Vivian’s ranting including intentional remarks about many others—all virgins—and I needed to know. There was a theme emerging here I found disturbing. My inexperience was a requirement for our marriage contract and I held a naive fantasy over why a successful lord would make such a request. Especially from a land and culture as permissive as Francine. Perhaps I blocked it out, overwhelmed with all the changes in my life.

I watched Rother step over to the wardrobe and pull out a fresh outfit. He dressed himself in casual shirt and breeches as the silence drove needles into my spine. There was a pretense of ignoring me, but I knew his attention was primed for me to say even one more thing he didn’t like. The tension in the room would have given off a harrowing chord if a bowstring could be run across it. I couldn’t bring myself to be the one to end the impasse, or if I should be.

With his collar left open, Rother strode to the door, speaking over his shoulder as he turned the knob.

“I always knew I’d marry a man, but men with too much experience complicate relationships. I admit, Nathan, your spirit makes you more interesting than anyone else I’ve been with, but there is always a point where being demanding becomes tedious.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Cover Reveal – Broken Prince, Mismatched Eyes by Layla Dorine

Synopsis

All of his life, Caden DeMott’s mismatched eyes have made him the target of superstition and scorn. Though he is the son of a nobleman, he’s been allowed to run free over the hills and moors, mostly ignored by his family. No one ever thought to inform him that he had been betrothed since infancy, until the day his fiancé, Prince Rhys Gwyther arrived to marry him.

Rhys is the prince of the small island country of Mauritania, a land rich in gems, rose oil, and pearls, but poor in skilled artisans and seeds to grow crops. In order to further cement the trade route to the mainland, he’s been sent to marry a man he’s never met, and bring him back to Mauritania. Unfortunately, an accident years before has left Rhys with a lot of emotional baggage and very little trust in strangers.

But trust is exactly what Caden and Rhys are going to need if they are to make a life together, and help unravel the mystery of who’s been smuggling valuable gems and pearls off the island. Add in the realization that Caden’s stepmother, Mildred and her island representative, Maxwell, have been importing inferior goods for years, forcing Mauritania to become more dependent on them, and trust becomes even more difficult.

Caden possesses the knowledge to finally allow Rhys’ father to unravel the plot to ruin Mauritania, but only if the king and his son are willing to put their faith in Caden’s loyalty to his new home. Something that is difficult to do after Caden is accused of cheating on his marriage vows to Rhys with his guard, Luc. Will Rhys believe him innocent? Or will their marriage be over before it truly has a chance to begin?

Pre-Order Now

WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/broken-prince-mismatched-eyes-by-layla-dorine/

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B017WXGBM8/

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B017WXGBM8/

Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B017WXGBM8/

Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/dp/B017WXGBM8/

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B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/broken-prince-mismatched-eyes-layla-dorine/1122960557?ean=9781925222685

Video Trailer

Excerpt

Jackson growled with hatred in his eyes as he pushed past his wife. His steps were heavy with anger as he ascended the stairs to the second floor, fists clenched so tightly that half crescent indents were forming on his palms. Outside his eldest son’s chamber, he paused and took several deep breaths, desperately seeking some small measure of calm before delivering the life-altering news. If only there were a way to be certain Rhys would be kind and understanding of Caden’s odd, distracting behaviors, but sadly, few had ever truly given the young man a fair chance. If he could, Jackson would have spared his son the kind of bitter, miserable marriage he himself endured, but he held little hope that Rhys would be any different from those who had ridiculed Caden in the past.

Knocking on the door, Jackson mentally prepared his speech while waiting for Caden to answer. When he did not, Jackson pushed open the door and let his eyes drift around the dimly lit chamber until they came to rest on the figure curled upon the bearskin rug by the hearth, two large hounds on either side of him. Jackson couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the trio before a sudden thought abruptly wiped the smile from his face.

Would Rhys allow Caden to keep the animals, or would his son be forced to leave his two closest companions behind? Jackson crossed the chamber quietly, stopping near the hearth. When one of the hounds growled low and raised his head, the white splotch of fur around his left eye identified him as Titus. When Titus saw that it was Jackson he laid his head back on his paws and closed his eyes again while the other hound, Brutes, snored on.

With a sigh, Jackson knelt and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, gently shaking him awake. Caden blinked sleepy, mismatched eyes up at his father, and as his son sat up, Jackson wondered what Rhys’ reaction to seeing Caden’s eyes would be and whether the prince was yet another superstitious fool who believed Caden’s one green eye and one white were a sign that he was devil-touched.

Fools, Jackson through to himself as Caden reached out and placed his hand on Brutes’ head, rubbing the dog’s ears. Caden’s head was cocked to one side, and he made a soft, clicking sound with his tongue that let Jackson know he was listening. While his son could speak, Caden used words sparingly and only after careful thought. It was one of the many things that made the boy so endearing in his father’s eyes. In another’s eyes, however, Jackson knew it was just another sign that Caden was different from others his age.

“I’m sorry I had to wake you. Were you up late wandering the moors again?”

Caden grinned and nodded, mismatched eyes lighting up and darting to the heavy curtains that were blocking out much of the sun and the moors that lay just beyond the window.

About the author

LAYLA DORINE lives among the sprawling prairies of Midwestern America, in a house with more cats than people. She loves hiking, fishing, swimming, martial arts, camping out, photography, cooking, and dabbling with several artistic mediums. In addition, she loves to travel and visit museums, historic, and haunted places.

Layla got hooked on writing as a child, starting with poetry and then branching out, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Hard times, troubled times, the lives of her characters are never easy, but then what life is? The story is in the struggle, the journey, the triumphs and the falls. She writes about artists, musicians, loners, drifters, dreamers, hippies, bikers, truckers, hunters and all the other folks that she’s met and fallen in love with over the years. Sometimes she writes urban romance and sometimes its aliens crash landing near a roadside bar. When she isn’t writing, or wandering somewhere outdoors, she can often be found curled up with a good book and a kitty on her lap.

Layla Dorine can be found at:

Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005197938547&fref=ts

Twitter: https://twitter.com/layladorine

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/layladorine/

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 19

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “Easier said than done.”

Nathan and Vivian have a chat.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 19

“As long as you’ve been hidden away, I bet it’s been more than just a good afternoon.” With a conspiratorial wink, Vivian sang her words at me like we were longtime friends, as if I would forget her rancorous scene from my arrival.

Playing along, I enacted a false smile that would make my mother proud. “It has been a good day or two.”

Vivian’s teasing could be considered innocent enough by most, but I was raised amongst the vapid sniping of wealthy aristocrats who spent their time practicing the subtle art of character assassination. Anything Vivian could learn would be used against me in her petty intrigues. She was intelligent, but nowhere near as skilled as the bored women in my former circle. It didn’t, however, make her harmless.

“Do you need any help with your bags?”

I opened the side pocket to confirm where my tools were hidden. “That’s very kind of you, but I only have the one for now.”

“Only the one?”

“The rest are en route.”

I hoped.

“I’d ask if you and Rother were getting on, but after the last few days, I’d say so.” Vivian began to giggle, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

“We’re doing well, I think. Thank you for asking.”

Not being properly dressed in front of employees unnerved me, putting me at a disadvantage. I hadn’t intended to spend any amount of time in the hallway. Like everything else in Francine, it was an unfamiliar occurrence. This conversation was highly suspect as well. I wished I could simply walk away and ignore her, but politeness was so ingrained in me, I was forced to play out this theatre. Vivian had yet to apologize for her earlier outburst, showing me her friendly discourse would be short lived.

“You’re really sweet. I hope Rother keeps you long enough for your luggage to arrive. Most of the virgins he’s turned out over the years didn’t have that luxury.”

And there it was. The first rake of her claws. It held less artistry than I expected. I shouldn’t have been surprised Rother’s marital requirements were known, but my inexperience still left me with doubts. Rother and I hardly knew one another.

Vivian’s candied tone took on a more malicious pallor. “He likes them when they’re fresh, but tends to bore of them once they learn some skills. He’s a excellent teacher.”

“And you would know this because…”

“How do you think I came to work in Delaga House?”

I tried to hide my discomfort, but the heat in my face had to be visible. There was no doubt of Rother’s past; his carnal knowledge could hardly be written off as dogma. But the image of my husband, bedding down this… maid disquieted me. My displeasure of using foul language was being tested. Even amongst the Victorian nobles, whispers of indiscretions with the staff could be heard, but it would never be uttered out loud.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I scoffed. “Ah… altruism at it’s finest. Saint Vivian.”

“I’ve just seen a lot of people come and go from his bedroom…”

Raising a brow, I eyed Vivian top to bottom, unable to control the callous sneer. “Everyone’s allowed a sad mistake or two in their lives.”

She wasn’t the only one who knew how to wield a sharp tongue.

Vivian’s false manners dissolved for a moment and reassembled into something more malevolent. Jealousy radiated off her with such force, it held a taste on the air. I knew better than to let her gather her wits and speak first.

“Whatever reason Rother had for slumming around with the help in the past is over.”

A hand on her hip, she smiled with hostility. “You think so?”

“He didn’t waste his time marrying you, did he?”

Her smug grin flattened. “You’ll be out of here before long.”

“Easier said than done. And not by you.”

“It’s just a matter of time.”

I’d had enough of this. Years of taunts and verbal abuses by the males in my family left me defensive in a way I never liked. Perhaps Vivian thought I would be a victim for her amusement, or her resentment could drive me out the door. She was more wrong than she could imagine.

Even though we were nearly the same height, I straightened my shirt and looked down on Vivian with haughty scorn. Inhaling through my nose, I glowered with all the condescension I could muster.

“I’ve yet to see proof of it, but Rother tells me you’re an excellent employee. Whatever that means. However, given his response to your charms when I arrived, I imagine there’s a limit to how much nonsense he’s willing to stomach from you. I’d hate to see someone turned out on the street for not knowing how to stay focused on their job.” Stepping into her personal space, I lowered my voice into a growl. “Perhaps if you learn to speak less and stay to task, we won’t have to experience it. Get back to work.”

Furious, Vivian stood dumbstruck as I turned, grabbing my bag. Whatever she expected of Rother’s neophyte husband, this challenge wasn’t it. Back home, I’d witnessed the dressing down of unruly staff on a number of occasions and recreated the scene better than I’d hoped.

“Don’t make me call Samantha.” Even within my brief introduction, I knew Samantha was not a woman to trifle with.

It was nice to see the head of house position held as much weight in Francine as in Victoria. The sound of Vivian’s footsteps faded as she stormed off. Even so, I didn’t feel the triumph as I walked away with confident steps, dragging my case behind me. I felt sickened. Because I allowed Vivian to bring out the worst in me, to draw on behaviors I’d learned and abhorred. In one brief exchange I channeled the man I’d learned to hate.

Lord Arthur Valencus. My father.

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

A Cook’s Tale – Cover Reveal and Pre-Order begins TODAY!

A Cook’s Tale – Ship Logs of the Santa Claus – Book Two is now available for pre-order!

Welcome to the first look at the cover below! I hope you like it! The ebook releases on Nov. 27th! Get yours now! The Buy Links are below!

Synopsis

The trials and tribulations of the crew and passengers of interplanetary transport vessel, The Santa Claus continues in A Cook’s Tale.

After a horrific breakup, Erron Murfin is bitter, homeless, and friendless. When the cook’s position on the Santa Claus presents itself, Erron decides to escape his current circumstances and join the crew. On board he reconnects with family friend Gamin Wells, whose own secrets and issues begin to surface upon Erron’s arrival. The least of which is the reason the pair haven’t laid eyes on one another in over twelve years.

As Erron settles into his new duties, the men on board take an interest in their newest crew member. Among those intrigued by Erron are polyamorous couple, Barrus and James. Despite Erron’s cautious nature, he’s drawn into a triad relationship with the pair.

But there’s something about Gamin…

Is Erron too damaged to confront his own feelings?

Will his past prevent him from finding what he needs?

Buy Links

WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/a-cooks-tale-by-mann-ramblings/

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-acook039stale-1925761-153.html

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Cooks-Tale-Ship-Santa-Claus-ebook/dp/B017I26RXG/

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Cooks-Tale-Ship-Santa-Claus-ebook/dp/B017I26RXG/

Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/Cooks-Tale-Ship-Santa-Claus-ebook/dp/B017I26RXG/

Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/Cooks-Tale-Ship-Santa-Claus-ebook/dp/B017I26RXG/

Book Trailer

Excerpt

“Is it true there aren’t any heteros on board your ship?”

Erron Murfin leaned forward in the darkened diner. The ruggedly handsome man sitting across from him was softly lit from the amber glow emanating from the table’s gentle surface. Dark stubble lined his dining partner’s jaw in perfect rhythm with the subtle, yet masculine facial lines that hinted at a man not afraid of an honest day’s work. A hint of predator in his blue eyes, the last bit of the man’s food passed his lips. Erron could feel the examination across the table. He wasn’t unnerved by the attention; it amplified his curiosity.

The diner was sparsely filled with patrons, being after the main dinner hours. The meal had been simple but well crafted. Erron couldn’t pick up on any hint of synthesized food. The walls were painted in dusky colors with a soft metallic luster. Soft murmurs of conversation could be heard if one bothered to listen, but Erron tuned it out, focusing on the dirty blond alpha male across from him.

“No hetero, no female. That’s the rule,” Captain Danverse said.

Erron cocked his head slightly. “No female, either? Aren’t you afraid of being labeled a misogynist or tagged as a discriminatory employer?”

“I’ve been called that before.” Danverse didn’t seem the slightest bit ashamed at the fact. “When I set up my crew, I made the ship open to everyone at first, but we had problems. I had to make a hard choice and keep things simple. No gender issues. No orientation conflicts. I wanted to populate my ship with men who would work hard and enjoy each other’s company when the voyages were long. Almost ten years later, I have my boy at my side, I have a life I love, and I work with my best friend and adopted family. Don’t fuck with it, if it isn’t broken.”

Danverse lifted his glass and took a solid sip of the dark whiskey. “But I’m not here to be interviewed for a job. You are.” A soft, growling laugh rolled off the captain. Erron couldn’t help the smirk that responded.

“You’re right. Ask away. What would you like to know?”

“First off,”—glass still in hand, Danverse’s index finger pointed at Erron—“why is the ‘No hetero’ rule so important to you?”

The smirk began to flatten as memories raced to the surface. Erron ran a hand through his shock of jade green hair, settling back into his chair. Studying the captain, he decided how forthcoming he was going to be. The pain was still there, fresh and raw, but there was little to be done about it.

“I could use a break from the majority these days.” If he thought Danverse was paying close attention before, it now felt as though his interest had quadrupled. The intensity of the captain’s scrutiny was palpable.

“Boyfriend dumped you?” Without responding, Erron knew he’d revealed the truth. “You didn’t know he was bi?”

Erron glanced away into a dark corner. “Not until he announced his engagement to her.”

“Ouch.”

Erron shrugged in some feeble attempt to shed the past. There was still the sharp pinch of loss in his chest whenever he relived what happened. He couldn’t face Danverse while he revealed his tale. If pity was visible in his blue eyes, he wouldn’t have to witness it.

“I worked with him at the restaurant his father owned. We kept things quiet so the rest of the staff wouldn’t think I was getting preferential treatment. I thought everything was great until the announcement. When she found out about me, she insisted I be let go. Little, over-privileged bitch.”

“She must have been quite a prize,” Danverse snarled.

Erron snorted. “Trophy is the word that comes to mind. Too pretty, too whiny, and seemed like the type who’d been told since she was a little girl how much better she was than everyone else. Toby’s father arranged their meeting and her family was really wealthy. It was all a business deal for him. He sacked me in a heartbeat and didn’t even flinch.

“To top things off, when she found out he owned the building I lived in, she had me evicted. I’ve been living off my savings since.”

Erron drew a long, slow inhale. It wasn’t just being thrown away that pained him so badly. The whole experience had made him feel more bitter and worthless than he had in his life. Not having the slightest clue of what was happening behind his back had made him feel profoundly stupid. It was the sort of thing that happened to a wide-eyed teenager, not a man in his early thirties.

“When did this happen?”

His eyes rolled upward as he mentally counted backwards on the calendar. “About three months ago.”

“Where have you been living?” Danverse asked. A scowl was forming on his handsome face and Erron felt himself shrinking.

“In some of the shittiest inns the spaceport has to offer.”

“No friends to stay with?”

Erron shook his head. “Apparently, they took Toby’s side after the breakup. It must be much nicer to rub elbows with a wealthy socialite than an unemployed, homeless cook.”

“What about family?”

“It was just me and my mom, but she didn’t survive the Centauri Civil War.” Erron shrugged. “That seems like a long time ago.”

Unconsciously, Erron crossed his arms over his chest, but not for warmth. Danverse looked increasingly unhappy as he heard more about Erron’s state of affairs. The more he said the worse the expression became and Erron was convinced the job opportunity was fading faster and faster.

“So what made you apply for our cook’s position?”

“Needed a job and came across the Subspace Link ad. I did a little research on the Santa Claus. It looked like a good fit for me and when I found out Gamin was part of the crew, I had to take a shot.”

“You know our head chef?”

“Yeah. He was my mom’s best friend when I was a kid. I never knew my dad and he was the next thing to a father figure back then. They had some major falling out back when I was nineteen and he stopped coming around. Mom wouldn’t say what. Then the Civil War broke out and in all the craziness, we lost touch. I didn’t even know he was alive until now. I figured I needed a fresh start, and touching base with him would be something I should have done ages ago.”

Danverse paused for an uncomfortably long moment as his stare intensified. Erron began to fidget in his seat as he watched his employment hunt begin again.

“Assuming I take you on, the job is every day, three meals a day. You’ll have down time, but not days off except when we’re in port. Gamin would be your direct superior, but there is still a chain of command. Living onboard isn’t a pleasure cruise, but it’s not a bad life. The crew is like a small town. We’re all in each other’s business, and we always look out for each other. I don’t have a tolerance for people who can’t play well with others.”

Erron’s eyes began to widen. Why was he telling him this? Surely the captain wasn’t saying yes?

“It sounds perfect. I’m not afraid of hard work and Gamin’s the reason I became a cook in the first place. Cooking makes me happy. I’m still waiting for you to tell me the down side.”

Danverse’s frown shifted into a sly grin. “Right now, I don’t think I’m seeing one.”

“Are you saying I can have the job?” Erron’s voice peaked as he fought to control the excitement rising in his chest. There was no doubt he seriously wanted the job, but he didn’t want it to be so horrifically obvious.

“Can you be at Landing Bay Gamma Seven One tomorrow by 09:00 hours? We’ll be in port for about a week, but I can have my security chief get you settled in before we ship out.”

The smile on Erron’s face made his cheeks ache, it was so strong. He was so elated, if he wasn’t careful he was going to be on the verge of tears. “You’re Goddamn right I can be there.”

Danverse lifted his glass in salute. “Well then, Mr. Murfin. Welcome to the crew.”

About the Author

Like many gay men, when Mann Ramblings grew up, there weren’t any heroes he could relate to. The world held him back while he tried futilely to hide the real person inside. So much has changed since those hollow days. He finally found his voice, the voice that says it’s all right to revel in the so-called inappropriate joys, laughs, and loves that storm inside a man’s head. It took a long time to find that courage and now that it’s here, he plans to use it well.

While spending years more focused on visual arts, he never let go of his innate passion for storytelling; he wanted to write and draw comic books when he grew up. Once he discovered M/M fiction, a whole new world opened with new possibilities. Why couldn’t you have fantastic and dynamic tales with an M/M cast? He started reading the online tales of authors like, Night Tempest, Rob Colton, and Alicia Nordwell, which only fueled within him the need to create. Eventually he found GayAuthors.org, and with a little coercive nudge from Night Tempest, started sharing his tales with an unexpected level of positive response. That experience and support gave him the courage to cross his fingers and aim for the world of M/M publishing.

Born and raised in Michigan, Mann Ramblings continues to type away, wishing it was practical to use a noisy, old fashioned keyboard that clacks with each strike, if only to annoy his loving partner and spoiled miniature dachshund.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mannramblings

Twitter: @mannramblings

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 18

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “When were you going to tell me that?”

How long has the honeymoon gone on for?

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 18

Poets described the act of lovemaking in endless sonnets, yet never quite do it justice. Hidden behind these four walls, I finally indulged in pleasures I’d been denied in my young life, and others I’d never fathomed. Rother’s appetites were unquenchable and his approach unapologetic. Unused muscles ached in unspeakable places, making me wince with every movement, yet I smiled wondering when he’d come for me again.

“What time is it?” I asked. The shutters continued to block out the daylight, leaving the passage of time marked only by a soft knock at the door. No one would be standing on the other side, only a tray full of food and drink left behind for us. I’d lost track of how many times this occurred.

“I haven’t the faintest idea. My best guess is late afternoon.” Rother gave a languid stretch on the bed until he rested his hands behind his head, looking completely at home in the nude. “The last meal they delivered appeared to be lunch.”

The clock over the mantle read nine. “The clock is wrong.”

“The clock is broken.”

“You haven’t hired a machinist to repair it?”

“It didn’t seem that critical. I had other priorities at the time. I was making plans to acquire a husband.”

Carefully, I lifted the timepiece away from the fireplace, testing its weight. I marveled at the grain pattern of the veneer. The elegant wood has been polished to satin luster begging to be touched. Details of crafted brass gave a gorgeous finish to the item. It was sacrilege such a fine piece wasn’t functional. I opened the back and explored the insides as best I could by the fire light. Even so, I saw the problem right away.

“It doesn’t appear to be damaged. I should be able to correct this fairly easily.”

“You know how to fix a clock?”

I could hear the doubt. “Yes. I made friends with the local clocksmith a long time ago. Father wasn’t pleased I was learning a trade skill, but it gave me something to do so he didn’t have to interact with me as often. As long as I kept it quiet, he didn’t stop me.”

“When were you going to tell me that?”

Was that a touch of annoyance I heard? “I assumed you knew.”

“Hmm… I never would have guessed.”

Disappointment pricked at my bubble of contentment. “You don’t really know much about me, do you?”

“Your personal skills were not on my list of requirements.”

Rother’s words were meant as a joke—I hoped—but the dismissive undertone still stung. I wondered if my mother felt the same as she navigated her marriage. It was likely a common symptom of an arranged marriage; the bitter drawback of a noble’s privilege. In truth, I knew as little about the man I’d given myself to over and over, as he knew of me. I shook off the sensation and sought to find the positive side of my union.

“My tools were in my luggage. I wasn’t about to leave them behind for my father dispose of. Where would they be?”

“Since we’ve locked ourselves in here, they’re likely resting in the hallway. The staff were under strict orders not to disturb us beyond providing meals until we emerged.”

I hunted down my breeches and jacket and started dressing. I debated on finding my undergarments, but took the leap and decided they weren’t required. Rother continued to lay back on the expansive bed, a decadent example of temptation. His stare refused to waver as he smirked like the devil.

“What?”

Rother chuckled. “I’m amused by how worried you are someone might see you undressed.”

“And I find it disturbing how indifferent you are on the subject. I have no intention of stepping outside wrapped in a bed sheet.”

“No one in this house would be upset by it.”

I glared at Rother with a look of utter disbelief. “I would.” As if two days of communal hibernation with my husband would erase my manners. Two days was my best guess. Rother refused to allow me to cover myself between sessions which left me exhilarated. However, it was one thing to be bare during intimacy, quite another to walk down the halls in my birthday suit. One simply didn’t act like a heathen in front of the help.

Rother climbed out of bed, his unclothed, powerful movements made my heart race for more reasons than one. “Well hurry along and get your tools. I feel another urge to have my way with you coming on.”

My face heated at his frank remark, but I continued to watch his glorious backside as he strode into the ensuite. Fresh arousal and air filled my lungs. I’d never dressed so quickly without Harston’s aid.

Opening the door, I glanced in each direction, looking for my luggage and witnesses. At the end of the hall sat my suitcase, and I made a point to close the door as I headed after it. Perhaps my husband was disaffected by the stares of others, but I didn’t want to encourage any passersby.

As soon as I stepped out, the protection of the room collapsed and a wave of contrition descended on me. I understood our activities were proper between a married couple, but anyone who saw me would know what we’d been up to and I wasn’t ready to face it. Not publicly. I could only imagine what crude jibe Blythe would make at my expense.

With an anxious step I hurried, kneeling before my luggage to inspect it. My case’s buckles were still closed, and I was relieved to see no sign of tampering. I hadn’t been in Francine long enough to trust the staff beyond my own.

So focused on gathering my belongings, I didn’t hear the footsteps until they were virtually on top of me.

“I’m amazed you can walk upright without help.”

Cringing, I struggled to find a polite tone.

“Good afternoon, Vivian.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 17

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “Between you and me…”

The first night continues.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 17

Rother ghosted his lips across mine. He licked along the seam of my mouth—a brief taste—and pulled back, urging me up onto the bed. The heated glint in his eye grew bright as his gaze raked over me. When he crawled like some animal into the bed, I swear he growled. As he laid down, pressing his larger frame along mine, he looked past me to the nightstand.

“Samantha has done her job well. I may have to give her a raise.”

Curious, I rolled over to find the nightstand covered with various objects. Some I recognized, and others I had no idea what purpose they served. A makeshift penis stood upright next to a bottle of oil? Wouldn’t the real thing be preferable? Shaking my head, I perused the odd collection further. I couldn’t help but laugh as I picked up a large feather and drifted the plume about Rother’s face and ear.

“What do you plan to do with this? Blindfold and tickle me mercilessly until I give in to your every demand?”

Rother chuckled as he took the feather from me and dumped it on the nightstand. “No. You don’t trust me enough for that kind of play.” I gasped as he ran his tongue up my neck. “And I won’t need it for that.”

I squirmed in delight as Rother bit and licked his way around my body. No spot was left untasted. At least an hour passed in the foreplay, but I couldn’t be sure. I was a quivering mess long before he took the bottle from the nightstand and wet his fingers with a fine line of oil, rolling them in the air to distribute the fluid.

Nibbling my thigh, Rother reached under me, his slick fingers tracing a circle around my opening. He stroked the center over and over, until his finger briefly dipped inside. Repeating the action, he went deeper each time, gradually opening me.

Applying more oil, he went through the process again with a second finger. This time he slid in and out of me with more purpose. When he dragged his fingertip across something inside me and I nearly arched off the bed.

Rother gave a lusty chuckle. “That’s what I was looking for.”

“What was that?” I gasped.

“Between you and me… the center of everything.”

Rother anointed himself again and three fingers worked me open. The stretch from each new finger burned at first, but his knowledge of my internal trigger made me learn to appreciate it. As he pushed his digits in an out of me, his free hand roamed my quivering torso, tweaking my nipples in a way that left me breathless.

“I think you’re ready. Do you want more?”

I could only nod. I was beyond wanting. I needed.

When he pulled out this time, Rother drizzled the oil over his rigid organ. He took time to spread the fluid, leaving his unwavering member glossy and tempting. Lifting my feet to his chest, he positioned himself. The slippery pressure of his cock at my opening made me want to force him inside.

“Are you ready?”

I nodded.

“Try to relax. This may hurt at first.”

I cried out as the head slipped inside. Even prepared, the pain was more than I expected. He didn’t move an inch more as I huffed, trying to compose myself. I’d come so far, I wasn’t ready to stop. Rother brushed back my hair off my sweaty brow.

“You’re doing fine. Just breathe. Don’t squeeze. Bear down and try to push me out.”

When I followed his instruction, the burn began to abate. I continued for several minutes before I calmed enough for him to move forward. Rother rocked his hips, little by little, until his pelvis touched my bottom. He was completely seated inside me.

“You’re so tight, Nathan,” Rother gasped. “You feel so good inside. I want to start moving. Can you take it?”

I finally found my words, breathy though they were. “I think so. If you go slow.”

Rother moved my legs around his waist and rolled forward, covering my body with his. The movement alone brushed that spot inside me and brought a moan to my lips.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Do that again.”

Rother gave a lusty growl as he shifted his hips, bringing out a new set of noises from me. I urged him on, the pace of his grinding grew quickly into thrusting as I spurred his rear with my heels like I would a thoroughbred.

I held on tight as he rocked me with a force I hadn’t expected to enjoy. A touch of pain underscored the pleasure. Lost in the quaking ecstasy, I forgot about all the guilt of intimacy and surrendered to the hedonism. As long as each rutting push dragged along my internal trigger, I could be his shameless whore. Rother couldn’t push himself deep enough.

Without stopping, he levered himself up on one arm, making room to take hold of my painful erection with his free hand. He stroked me with the same vigor he assaulted my backside.

“Rother! I’m so close. Don’t stop!” I cried out. My whole body grew tight as the intensity increased. Rother’s hammering had moved past graceful lovemaking into needy instinct. I understood completely. I was right there with him.

I couldn’t hold out any longer. My groin seized and came, arcs of fluid spattering the two of us with each stroke of his hand. Rother rolled forward and slammed his mouth over mine. His tongue demanded entrance as he thrust harder and shouted out, the kiss swallowing the sound as he emptied himself inside me. I held on tight, riding out each spasm as the aftershocks continued to tease me for some time.

When our breathing began to calm and he softened enough to slip out, I didn’t want to leave the embrace, hiding my quiet tears of joy in his shoulder.

I felt different now.

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

A Cook’s Tale is coming! November 27th!

Have you heard? The second book in the Ship Logs of the Santa Claus series is on its way!

Keep an eye out! Cover reveal and pre-order information will be coming soon! I’m so excited!

If you haven’t read Book One – The Luxorian Fugitive, check out the links in the menu above and introduce yourself to my sci-fi universe!

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 16

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “As the sun sank lower, the night’s mystery deepened.”

Rother and Nathan continue to get to know each other in the bath.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 16

“Are you all right?” Rother asked.

I nodded, unable to find my voice.

I felt oddly ashamed after we came down from the high, our bodies still entwined. This was my husband, so there shouldn’t be any guilt, but it lurked under my chest. Enjoying he touch of his skin brought up all the shame of my adolescence, but the sanction to finally indulge myself dampened it. If only it could erase it outright.

Rother placed the soap bar in my hand. “Now that the urgency is off, it’s your turn.”

My chest seized in a moment of panic, but his sated smile defused it. Swarthy and handsome, Rother was stunning in the afterglow. I held onto the image. Being comfortable with this new aspect of my life would take some time.

Unfamiliar with this ritual, I worried I would either touch him too weakly or scrub him like a dirty pot. Not that I had experience with either. I mimicked his previous movements on me, dipping the soap in the water and rubbing it into his chest. As I explored, the dark hair fascinated me; my own was limited and barely visible. I watched the wet fur move about in the suds broken only by the dusky nipples peaking through. I grazed the bar over the right nub. The purr emanating from my husband told me I was learning well.

I washed his arms and worked down his stomach exploring the ridges. When I reached his hips I stopped.

“Keep going. Wash every part of me,” Rother said.

Considering what we’d shared earlier, I felt foolish that I needed permission to continue. Would my years of repression continue to stay my shaking hand? I wanted to know more, but the prospect frightened me. What if I did it all wrong? Would he make me stop?

“Your touch is perfect. I want to feel more,” he whispered.

Taking a deep breath, I went further. I stroked the bar into the thatch of hair and found his organ, still swollen yet only half awake. His sleeping thickness in my hand thrilled me, but still sparked a sense of shame. I refused to allow it to stop me as I traced the foreskin’s edge and the snaking veins under the pretense of cleansing. After carefully soaping the length, I examined the heft of his sack and traversed below finding the same orifice he teased on me. Rother raised his legs to give me access barely long enough to clean him. His legs were also a treat. Cords of muscle drew long lines to his feet, which were not ticklish in the least.

When I finished, Rother collected the soap and washcloth from me. “I believe I missed a spot.”

I gripped his shoulders as he ran the lathered cloth over my privates. He hadn’t managed earlier given how heated things had become, but I swore this time was more about play than getting me clean. Once he was done, I was well aroused after all the physical contact. We turned the water on again long enough to rinse as we took turns washing each other’s hair. The foreign scrub of his fingertips on my scalp was magnificent.

When Rother pulled the stopper, letting the water begin to drain, I wanted to cry. The tub was the first place I could give voice to my inner self. Watching my sanctuary vanish disturbed me.

Chuckling, Rother must have read my expression. “Don’t worry. We’re not finished yet.”

Viewing his climb out of the water stalled every negative thought. Glistening and dripping off every ridge, he moved with a purpose, making me wonder if it was natural or if he was still performing a show for me. Even his flawless behind was a study of sculpted anatomy. I was still fixated on his physique as he helped me out, the cooler air drawing a shiver over my skin. The sight of large pools of water all over the floor warmed my cheeks; apparently our bathing games had been more vigorous than I realized.

Towels hung from the tray with all the bath accoutrements and Rother wasted no time snatching one, and rubbed the fluffy fabric over every inch of my body. He seemed to take great pleasure in it. Once I was warm and dry, he handed me a fresh towel and guided me to reciprocate. I was hesitant at first, but steeled my courage to do the job well.

Hanging the damp towels over the edge of the empty tub, Rother took my hand. “I think it’s time for us to get comfortable.”

I would say as the sun sank lower, the night’s mystery deepened, but the drawn shutters left my sense of the hour back on the street. Moving backwards with his hands in mine I followed Rother, mesmerized by the sway of his organ between his thighs with each step. My giggle had to be stifled, an inappropriate reaction to the glorious sight before me. A new found arousal was taking hold of me and there was no hiding it. In fact, it took a great deal of restraint to prevent me from covering my sex which grew harder under his fixed gaze.

“I knew your stamina would be worthy.” Rother appeared amused, if his smirk was any indication. And the way he wet his lips… I shuddered.

Leading us into the bedroom, the fireplace basked every corner with a sultry heat.  The flames’ glimmer turned the bed’s pure white comforter into a golden cloud of promised heaven. Rother rearranged the pile of pillows and drew back the duvet. The lusty stares he’d given me from the beginning had yet to falter.

Pulling me close, he aligned the lengths of our bodies against each other. The kiss of his skin gave a different sensation out of water. I could feel his organ swelling as it rose to meet mine.

“Now we’ll have room to roll around a bit.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 15

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “shake, barrel, cloves” and a photo of a bubble.

Rother and Nathan get to know each other in the bath.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 15

The bathtub was enormous and indulgent, lifted off the floor by four elaborate metal feet. The elegant smooth basin could fit multiple people, and with the leers Rother kept throwing my way, I doubted I’d be bathing alone. My newfound bravado aside, I worked hard to contain my anxious pulse. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stood undressed before anyone of interest.

The porcelain knobs squeaked as they were turned, and water began flooding the tub. Steam began curling upwards in tiny tendrils as Rother stepped over to a tray standing along the edge.

Rother brushed his fingertips over the various objects on the tray. “You’ll find Samantha always takes good care of us.”

Choosing amongst the soaps, cloths, and other items, he picked up a small barrel made of brass. Giving the object a quick shake over the tub, powder sifted into the water. Moments later, a series of bubbles formed in the new froth. Some were light enough to escape, taking a lazy drift into the air. When they popped, a hint of scented cloves was left behind.

Without a word, Rother offered his hand and directed me into the water. The heat enveloped me in a delicious caress as I sank into its depths. Settling along the edge, I noticed the burgeoning suds provided an illusion of propriety as the sensual air rose in the room.

Rother’s gaze locked onto me as he took a step back, unfastening his collar with a slow hand.  Stifling a gasp, I watched with rapt attention as one button as a time, his shirt fell loose giving me my first glance at his tanned skin. Leaving his shirt undone, he teased my eyes and made slow work of his cuffs. His pace was maddening. Had he seen my interest and decided to torture me?

With a cocky grin, he parted his shirt giving me a glorious view of his sculpted chest. A dark feathering of hair graced with firm muscles, a trail lead down his stomach and disappeared under the edge of his trousers. He shrugged off the blouse, showing me the expanse of his torso. Excitement and apprehension tickled me in places I’d never had to freedom to enjoy before. I was glad the bubbles hid the unfamiliar reaction my body was having under the water. I imagined the blush in my face extended to every extremity.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Rother whispered. “I’m your husband, after all.”

I nodded. Rother separated the halves of his belt. My mouth became dry.

His hands worked at a glacial pace, but he didn’t fumble for a second. I was disappointed I had to wait while his boots and socks to find the bathroom floor. When he returned to his pants, he showed a lack of undergarments. For the first time, the lack of decorum intrigued me rather than offending. The flaps of his trousers were splayed open, just short of showing me something indecent. An intriguing, thick ridge was forming down his leg as he spread his hands on his hips inside the waistline and skimmed them down his thighs, dragging his clothing with them.

Rother stepped out his pants, proudly showing off his swelling organ. The size intimidated me, but I found its form beautiful. As it rose, the hood retracted, revealing a rosy knob begging me to touch it.

By the gods, I prayed I hadn’t said that out loud.

I gripped the sides of the basin as Rother turned off the water and climbed into the basin, descending slow enough I knew he was displaying himself for my benefit. I saddened as his groin dipped below the bubbles.

“Mmm… This is lovely,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he was speaking about the bath. I hoped he wasn’t. “Cleanliness is next in order I think.”

Rother leaned across me as he reached to the tray. The silky skin brushing against my own caused a new surge between my legs. Returning with a bar of soap, he dipped it into the water and began drawing circular patterns on my chest and shoulders. I never knew lathering by another’s hands could feel so extraordinary.

As slowly as with his clothing, Rother worked the soap over my shoulders and arms. When his slippery hands reached the base of my skull, my eyes closed in rapture. I rolled forward into his arms as he reached around, gliding his strong hands over my back. My head rested on his shoulder, his unshaven jaw tickling my temple. Our chests rested together; I couldn’t ignore the hard, silky member pressed against my own. The soap found its way down to my bottom and tights, and I couldn’t help grinding into him.

Rother’s breath fluttered the edge of my hair as he murmured. “That’s it. Do what feels right. There’s no true sin in pleasure.”

Still moving down my legs, the bar of soap in his hands, he washed me further as I continued rubbing our organs together. Lost in the sensual touches, all my thoughts of propriety vanished. I knew only the ecstasy warming my body, the delicious ache I didn’t know how to release.

I cried out loud as the soap found its way between my buttocks. My intensity was growing. He washed my bottom, his fingertips grazing and stroking the hidden opening. I couldn’t decide whether to push forward or back, trapped between the sensations.

My breathing was stuttered at best. “Rother… Please… I need… I don’t know…”

“I know what you need.” Rother gripped my hips and ground us harder together. The water sloshed as our movements became more furious. Hard wanton need sliding together, I reached my limit. The ache peaked and I shouted out loud, digging my fingers into his shoulders as I released between us. Rother’s hold tightened and he grunted and hissed without stopping. I could feel the pulses shooting through his shaft against mine.

Collapsing in his arms, I knew Rother was right.

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Cover art for A Cook’s Tale is in progress

I’m really excited about how the cover design for A Cook’s Tale is coming out. I wish I could show you the work in progress, but that’s too much like a spoiler for me. I’ll have to settle for teasing you over it!

Stay tuned for more updates! The second book in the Ship Logs of the Santa Claus is coming along beautifully! As soon as the release date is firm, you hear about it right away!

Now, I’d love to chat more, but there’s a piece of artwork calling to me…