M.A. Church's Blog, page 182

Wednesday Briefs

Welcome to the Wednesday Briefers flash group. The short stories have a maximum of a 1000 word count plus links at the bottom to the other flashers. The prompts for this week are:
Line Prompts: Off in the distance I heard …All I ever wanted was …  
Word prompts: Red, darkness, heatChill, blanket, tender
Include: A surpriseAn ancient tradition
Or a picture prompt  
~I’m using a surprise 
Silver Bells and Red Ribbon
Rusty rolled to the edge, carefully lifted the sheet off, and eased out of bed. Soft snores continued from the other side of the mattress—the other man was clearly still asleep. Checking his phone, Rusty made sure the alarm was set, and placed it back on the end table. He was amazed he’d managed to get up without waking Tanner.
His master was always aware of where he was and what he was doing; so much so that Tanner should wake up soon now that he’d left the bed. Rusty was counting on that, but just in case he didn’t, Rusty set the alarm on his phone. Moving carefully in the darkened room, he crept to the door and quietly made his way downstairs to the den.
For a moment he stood staring, once again entranced by the object in the middle of their den. The ten foot tree was a thing of beauty. He loved real trees, even though they could be messy. Nothing beat that smell. Their tree was wrapped in red and white lights, draped in red and silver garland, and heavy with numerous ornaments lovingly placed.
A big red and white bow crowned the top, long streamers trailing down the tree to the red velvet tree skirt… the empty tree skirt. It was Christmas Eve: the presents had been exchanged, a lovely dinner shared between them, and several toasts given to their life together.
Time for his Christmas surprise to his master.
“Please, please don’t wake up until I’m ready,” Rusty mumbled, hurrying into the den to check under the couch.
Earlier in the evening, he’d hid a small duffle that held several toys he’d bought without his master’s knowledge. Each toy was especially geared toward the holidays. The red leather brass buckle cuffs with silver metal rings were his favorite out of the things he’d bought. There was a chain from one cuff to the other.
With his naturally dark skin tone, the red would look good on his wrists and ankles. Then there was the red butt plug and cock ring. Oh yeah, and the red ball gag was pretty hot too. He’d even bought small silver bells for his nipple rings. The last thing was the red and silver ribbon.
Rusty stripped off his boxers and threw them on the couch. He turned on the tree lights—the red and white lights casting soft shadows through the den—then turned on the gas fireplace. Last thing he wanted was to get cold while he waited.
Excitement threatened to get the best of him as he lifted the cuffs for his wrists and ankles out of the duffle. They were heavy and beautifully crafted. Once buckled around his limbs, he’d be aware of them.
Breathing picking up, he fastened the cuffs on his wrists, then sat down on the couch and secured his ankles. Oh God, he loved that feeling of being owned that washed over him when the final lock was clicked into place. The hard cock curving toward his stomach proved just how much he needed to be owned.
“Jesus,” he swore, resisting the urge to stroke himself. The need to come was already riding him hard.
Speaking of which, he rooted around for the lube in the duffle, found it, and slicked a finger. He reached behind himself, lightly working his ass, loosening it for the good sized plug. By the time he had three fingers moving in and out of his ass, he was sweating slightly. What could he say, he was a size queen. But hell’s bells, with the size of Tanner’s cock he had to be.
Once he was well lubed, he turned the plug on low and fit it inside its holder, then fastened the harness around his waist. Gently he worked the plug in his ass, sighing and mumbling as his splinter fought the invasion before giving way.
“Oh, oh…” Damn, that felt way too good. He quickly slipped the cock ring over his aching dick before he lost control and came. That was not how he wanted this night to end. Finally he fitted the upper body straps in place and buckled them close.
“God,” Rusty moaned as the vibrations spread through his body. He was going to be insane by the time Tanner found him. He clipped the small bells on his nipple rings and reached for the ribbon that would be the bow on the present of his body to his master.
He wore a simple leather necklace that represented his collar. Most people outside of the lifestyle didn’t get the significance. But if someone looked carefully, they’d notice the clasp wasn’t the normal lobster claw closure… it was a padlock. With a grin, he tied the red ribbon around his neck.
There was only one left thing to do, and that was the gag. Rusty fitted it in his mouth and buckled it closed. The silver bells attached to his nipple rings chime sweetly. Rusty paused as he stepped to the tree skirt.
Oh.Rusty wiggled his body, listening to the lovely trill of the bells. How simply beautiful. He lifted his cuffed hands and flicked the tiny bells, listening to the charming music. Their sound was enchanting, and he bet Tanner would think so too.
He knelt on the red velvet tree skirt, making sure his back was to the entrance to the den. When Tanner came looking for him, the lights from the tree would draw his master to the den. Rusty wanted to make sure the first thing Tanner saw was the material between his ass cheeks that held the plug inside him.
Satisfied with his positioning, he lay down to wait. The Grandfather clock in the hall chimed out the hour. Rusty knew the alarm on his phone would now be going off upstairs. Soon… soon his master would come looking for him.~TBC Make sure to check out the other Briefers! Their links are below:

Victoria Adams m/f Lily Sawyer m/m  Cia Nordwell m/m MC Houle m/m Tali Spencer m/m Julie Lynn Hayes m/m

Welcome Michael Rupured

Hey guys! Come on it and have a seat. I've got the fire going, lol.
Today I have my good friend and fellow Dreamspinner author visiting with me. Please welcome Michael Rupured.

He's here to talk about his release Until Thanksgiving. Believe me when I say it's been a blast getting to know this awesome man, lol.

And after reading the excerpt, this book is on my TBR list!
~M





The biggest and most pleasant surprise since I got my book deal has been how friendly the other writers are—especially to newbies like me. And if we were contestants in a beauty pageant rather than romance novelists, M.A. Church would get my vote for Miss Congeniality. She looks out for me so well, I’ve taken to calling her MA. Never mind that I’m older than she is. Thanks, Michelle, for taking such good care of me and for inviting me here to talk about my very first novel, Until Thanksgiving. 

As recently as 2010, writing a novel was just one more thing on a rather long list of stuff I never thought I could do—along with medaling at the Olympics, fixing things, and physics. Sure, I’ve always loved to write, and have honed my ability over the last thirty years journaling, letter-writing, and publishing articles in academic journals. That kind of writing comes easy for me because it doesn’t—or shouldn’t—involve making things up.  
Just the idea of trying to write a novel was enough to make my head explode. Misconceptions about the process and a lack of technical know-how kept me from even trying. After a lot of encouragement and support from my friends, I wrote a tell all memoir that was all tell. I didn’t know about showing until I joined the Athens Writers Workshop in early 2011. A few months later, I started my first novel. 
I’ve heard that first novels are often autobiographical. That’s true for me in that the original idea was inspired by my life. Addicted was the working title, with the addiction being the main character’s thing for relationships, which lead him to fall in love at the drop of a hat. I still do, but that’s another story—except to say that I’m currently between relationships and my contact info is below. 
My inner academic demands accuracy. Until Thanksgiving takes place in 1996. That’s the same year I moved from Lexington, Kentucky to DC after my first long-term relationship ended. Josh Freeman lives in the apartment I lived in, eats at some of my favorite restaurants, and like me, falls for the wrong guys.  
The problem is thatstory, in and of itself, lacks tension or stakes or a reason to care whether or not Josh ever finds love. Enter Adam Gordon who Josh antagonizes, not knowing he’s already killed three men.  
Another problem was that, except for Josh and Linda, all the other characters were unlikable assholes whose mothers don’t even like them. I know because I made them up, and that’s part of their backstory. The poor reader needed someone to like, and there needed to be something keeping Josh away from him. Enter Thad Parker and his uncle, Philip Potter. 
Lo and behold, I was making stuff up, and having a ball doing it. I submitted 5000 words of the manuscript to the writers workshop for critique every two weeks. They ripped me to shreds, and I love them for it. Without them, I’d still be shopping that all tell, tell all memoir around and racking up rejections.  
I still get together with the other writers every two weeks. They’ve already critiqued most of the prequel. But that’s another story. Today I’m here to tell you about Until Thanksgiving.  
Excerpt:
The doorbell’s steady ding, ding, ding woke Josh from a sound sleep. He stumbled out of bed and tripped over an assortment of pizza boxes, dirty clothes, old newspapers, and empty cans on his way to the front door. He saw his friend Linda Delgado through the peephole and opened the door.
“I’ve been ringing your doorbell forever. You up?”
“Does it look like I’m up?” Squinting from the bright sunlight, Josh looked at his arm and then remembered his watch still sat on his bedside table. “What the hell time is it, anyway?”
“Way past time for your sorry ass to still be in bed. You were supposed to meet me at the pool two hours ago.”
He rubbed his eyes. “You could have called.”
Linda put her hands on her hips and glared. “I did. Three times.”
Josh looked over and saw the red blinking light on his answering machine. “Oh. Sorry.” He ran his hands up over his eyes and through his hair, pulling the bangs back, then letting go and shaking his head. “Guess I was sleeping pretty heavy. I went downtown last night and was a little late getting home.”
“Late getting home? Did you get lucky? Is he still here?”
Josh decided not to mention the anonymous blowjob to his one and only friend. Women really didn’t understand about casual, anonymous sex. “No, I didn’t get lucky. Nobody even looked at me twice, much less talked to me.”
“Poor Joshy. Everyone probably thought you were too busy enjoying your little pity party to bother with anyone else.”
Josh shook his head. “Linda, sometimes you’re a real bitch.”
“As your best friend, it’s my job. If I don’t tell your hunky ass the truth, who will?” She looked past him. “Are we just going to stand here on the porch all day and talk?”
Josh yawned and stepped back, opening the door wider so Linda could come in. “Sorry. I’m still about half asleep.”
Linda pushed her way past Josh into the condo. She took three steps, then turned back to Josh. “Jesus Christ! What the hell is that smell?”
Josh sniffed the air. “What smell? I don’t smell anything.”
“It smells like a crack house in here, or maybe a dumpster.” She covered her mouth and nose with her hand and talked between her fingers. “Damn, Josh! When was the last time you took out the trash?”
“Uh. I dunno. Sometime before Ben moved out.”
“That was more than three weeks ago. Can’t you smell it?”
Josh sniffed again and shrugged. “Not really. Maybe a little when I first come in. You get used to it.”
Pinching her nose and holding her hand over her mouth as she kicked through trash and clutter, Linda made her way into the living room. On the coffee table, empty cans and glasses surrounded an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts and the tail ends of an uncountable number of joints. Linda kicked a bunch of dirty clothes and old newspapers off the sofa and onto the floor to clear a place to sit.
She looked slowly around the living room, her eyes jumping from mess to bigger mess as she took it all in. “So this is what three weeks of wallowing in self-pity looks like.”
Josh cleared himself a spot on the sofa, knocking over a half empty glass of what might have been milk as he sat down. “I guess so.” He picked a small pipe from the table. “You mind if I catch a little buzz before we hit the pool?”
Linda sighed. “Sure. Why not?” She glanced around the room again. “I may even have to join you.”
He was more than a little surprised. Since divorcing a guy with a deep affection for cocaine who everyone thought could easily have passed for Josh’s brother, Linda rarely got high. Josh retrieved the jewelry chest his mother had given him for his twelfth birthday, and after knocking a bunch of cans to the floor, cleared a spot for it on the coffee table. He opened the chest and took out a nearly empty bag of pot to replenish his pipe.
“Guess I’ve been smoking a lot since Ben left.”
Linda glanced around at the filthy, cluttered condo. “No shit. Too bad getting high doesn’t inspire you to go on a cleaning binge.”
“Ben usually did all the cleaning.” Josh filled the pipe and offered it to Linda.
Linda hesitated. “When in a frat house, do as the frat boys do.” She took the pipe, fired it up, inhaled deeply, and held her breath before returning it to Josh. “Are you going to tell me about your night downtown?”
Josh took a big hit and then exhaled. “There’s really nothing to tell. I had a couple of drinks, took in the drag show for a while, then watched a bunch of people I don’t care to know dancing to music I’d never heard before. It was a good time.”
He looked at Linda. Two years younger than Josh, she was still beautiful, with short raven hair, olive skin that quickly tanned a dark brown, and dazzling blue eyes. Their mothers had been best friends. They’d grown up together, and Josh could tell she knew there was more to his story. She looked at him and cocked her head. “Did you run into Benjie and David?”
Josh shook his head. “No. They weren’t there.” He relit the bowl and took another hit.
“That’s good.” She reached across and pulled his chin around so she could see his eyes. “You know you’re going to run into them sooner or later, don’t you?”
Josh returned his attention to the pipe. “Not if I can help it. David knows Ben has trouble keeping it zipped. The Bar is the last place they’d be.”
He loaded the bowl again and handed it to Linda. Having outgrown the youthful crowd of regulars, he and Ben had long ago quit going to the Bar Complex. In truth, the decision to avoid the place had been less about the young crowd than Ben’s wandering eye.
Linda snorted. “If David was that smart, you and Ben would still be together.”
“Yeah, and if I was smart, we would never have hooked up.” In hindsight, Josh should have seen it coming. Ben had left his previous lover to be with Josh. If they’d do it for you, it was only a matter of time before they’d do it to you.
“Do you miss him?”
Josh looked at her. “I don’t know, maybe. Part of me is glad he’s gone. It’s like a big weight has been lifted from my shoulders.” He shrugged and looked at the floor. “Maybe I should become a monk. Then I could put all this celibacy to good use.”
Linda laughed. “You’re not really the celibate type.” When he didn’t laugh, she slid closer to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Thought any more about that job offer?”
Josh draped his arm across her shoulder and rested his chin on her head. “Not really.”
Walker, Cochran, and Lowe, the law firm where he worked, had offered him a promotion to national director of communications. The catch was he’d have to transfer to the Washington, DC, branch of the firm. Ben had been opposed to the move, but what he thought didn’t matter anymore.
Linda leaned her head into his neck. “Why not go? It’s a great opportunity for you, and there’s no better time than now to get the hell out of Dodge.” She sat up, pushing him away. “You should go.”
Josh looked into her eyes. He couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been part of his life, and he loved her like the sister he never had. More than her words, the concern for his well-being he saw on her face told him she was serious.
But he couldn’t imagine life without her, especially now that his love life was over. If he couldn’t have a lover, at least he had Linda. Being single without her to keep him company was just unimaginable. He set the pipe in the ashtray and stood up.
“Come on. It’s a beautiful day outside. Let’s not waste it in here chitchatting about work.”
Linda laughed and shook her head. “If you insist.”
“I do. Let me jump into some trunks.”
Josh returned a few minutes later in navy-blue swim trunks, a white T-shirt, and flip-flops. “Ready?”
“I was ready two hours ago,” Linda smirked. 
The Blurb:  

Josh Freeman knows his best days are behind him. After his partner of seventeen years has an affair with a younger man, Josh buries himself in takeout boxes, half-smoked joints, and self-pity until his best friend gently kicks him in the ass and encourages him to try out a new job in Washington DC—at least until Thanksgiving.


Though DC has its share of troubles, specifically in the form of a murderer targeting gay men, Josh soon discovers its charms as well. Unlike his old home, DC is crawling with men who want to date him—apparently he's not as overweight, out of shape, or over the hill as the man he once loved made him believe. In particular, Josh would love a chance with relocation expert Thad Parker, but Josh is sure Thad is seeing someone, so he looks for love elsewhere. He tells himself he and Thad don't have anything in common anyway.


Then Josh learns Thad really is available. Maybe they can work it out after all. Suddenly the future seems bright again. Of course, Josh doesn't know he's the murderer's next target....

  Author Bio:

For as long as he can remember, Michael Rupured has loved to write. Before he learned the alphabet, he filled page after page with rows of tiny little circles he now believes were his first novels and has been writing ever since. He grew up in Lexington, Kentucky, where he came out as a gay man at the age of 21 in the late 1970s.  He considers it a miracle that he survived his wild and reckless twenties. 
By day, Michael is an academic. He develops and evaluates financial literacy programs for youth and adult audiences at the University of Georgia and is Assistant to the Dean for Family and Consumer Sciences Education. He’s received numerous awards and honors over the years and is a Distinguished Fellow of the Association for Financial Counseling and Planning Education. Michael is also an avid gardener, a runner, and because he loves it and rarely misses a class, is known locally as the Zumba King.  
In 2010, he joined the Athens Writers Workshop, which he credits for helping him transition from writing nonfiction to writing fiction. Michael writes gay romance thrillers that, in addition to entertaining the reader, highlight how far the gay rights movement has come in the last fifty years.  A serial monogamist who is currently between relationships, Michael writes with his longhaired Chihuahua, Toodles, in his lap from his home in Athens, Georgia. 

To find out what Michael’s up to now, visit his blog (http://rupured.com), follow him on Twitter (@crotchetyman) or send an email message to mrupured@gmail.com
 
Buy link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3456

Winners of the Christmas Blog Hop!

   1stplace winner of the Amazon GC: Dani

2nd place winner: koozebane
 
3rdplace winner: Amanda   
Congrats guys! Emails will be sent out shortly. Let me know you got the emails, and I’ll send the prizes. For the 2nd and 3rdplace winners… I’ll send my backlist to you in the email and you pick which one you want. J
 
If a prize isn’t claimed, I’ll draw another name.
 
Big thanks to everyone that took part! I really enjoyed reading the comments. This is the most comments I’ve received so far! See you guys at the next blog hop.
 
~M

Purrfectly Giftastic Christmas Blog Hop

 
Hello! Come on in and join me. JI’m M.A. Church (or Michelle, or just plain M, lol) and I write M/M romance that often has a scifi or nonhuman twist.  I’m going to keep this brief since you guys are hopping, and there's a lot of cool authors' to visit.  Here is the link to the main page of the Christmas Blog Hop.
    Giveaway:
1.  First place winner gets a $15.00 Amazon GC.
2.  Second place winner gets their choice of a book from my back list.
3. Third place winner gets their choice of book from my back list. 
 
How to Enter:
~Tell me which you prefer: a live or fake Christmas tree. If you have time, tell me why!
~Please follow my blog.
~Then make sure to comment and leave me an email addy. When the contest is over on Monday, I’ll post on here who won. I’ll also email you to double check I have the correct email addy. Check your spam, just to be safe. Sometimes emails to winners end up there. I’ll give the winners 72 hours to respond, and if I haven’t heard back, then I’ll pick a new winner. 
 
I prefer real Christmas trees. Because of my allergies, when I was a kid, we had a fake one. Don’t get me wrong, it was full and tall, and very nice. But I always wanted a real one, lol. Even after I left home, finished college, and got married I had a fake tree. One reason was the oldest kiddo has asthma.  
Well, last year we had our first real tree. The older kiddo works at a farm here in town, and last Christmas he showed up after work with a real tree. And there you go, lol, our first real tree. This year he brought one home called Blue Sapphire. I kid you not, the thing smelled like oranges!


Kitty-Kitty (our cat) took one look at it, fuzzed up, and hissed. I took one deep breath, fuzzed up and hissed too… the old allergies went nuts from the strong scent, lol. It was better come morning, thank goodness.  Hope you guys have a wonderful Christmas and a great New Year! Hard to believe 2013 is almost here. ~M

The Next Generation - Bound by Fate

“You-you stunned him.” Takeo looked from Szin to Fraylor.
“Damn straight I did. I’m not stupid enough to get in the middle of you guys.” Szin was shaking now that the fight was over. “I-I had to, Takeo. He was going to-to… claim you. I-I couldn’t…”
Takeo came to his feet, bruises blooming from the fight. “Easy, babe.” Takeo reached for Szin. “Couldn’t allow him to… what, Szin?”
Szin buried his face in Takeo’s chest. “I couldn’t… let him claim you. You-you are mine, Takeo. My mate. Heaven help me, it took nearly losing you to make me see that.”
“Oh, thank the Gods.” Takeo held Szin in his arms. “I was afraid you’d never give in, and I couldn’t force you. No matter how much I wanted to.”
“I-I love you, Takeo.”
“Oh my beautiful, sweet Szin. I’ve longed for those words for a long time.” Takeo kissed Szin on the top of the head.
“So…?”
“So, what?”
“Um, maybe we should make things official before anymore males show up and act like fools.”
Takeo grinned. “Let me take out the garbage and I’ll take care to that little issue right quick.”
* * * *
Takeo hauled Fryalor outside and threw him on the rock-lined path. He dusted his hands, a small grin crossing his face. This could’ve turned nasty; but instead, something good came out of Fryalor acting like an ass. “If you only knew,” Takeo whispered to the male laying on the ground, moaning. “I’d thank you for bringing Szin around, but I have more important things to do.”
And with that, he turned and walked back to the house. Fryalor could crawl home, for all he cared. He never dreamed the male was so… invested in him. He’d warned the male he had a mate he loved. He knew Fryalor wasn’t in love with him, he was just possessive. He also knew he wasn’t the only one the male had relations with. All they had done was fuck, and it hadn’t been a very pleasurable experience, either.
While Fryalor’s actions had caught him by surprise, Szin’s reaction had really been a shocker. While he might be a bit embarrassed at how flat-footed Fryalor had caught him, Szin hadn’t hesitated to do what he felt needed to be done: protect his mate. And by the Gods, he sure put Fryalor down—and by wit, not by muscle.
Phaser beat out muscle any day of the week.
He couldn’t be more proud. His mate had fought for him and had finally, finally come to understand what they had between them was fated. Takeo opened the door and saw Szin. That warm gush of feelings that spread through his body every time his saw his mate reared up and grabbed him by the throat. This male was his—and this male was also still a bit freaked out.
Szin was still where he left him, shivering. “Szin? It’s all over now. Everything’s okay.” Takeo locked the door and crossed the floor to where Szin stood. “What’s wrong?”
“I just…” Szin shook his head in an effort to clear the cobwebs still clinging to his mind. Dear God, what had he done? He’d actually fired a phaser at someone. Not only that, he upped the strength just to make sure the blast would knock that other male on his ass. Hell, he even thought about putting it on kill for all of 2.2 seconds. He didn’t think he had a violent bone in his body, but seeing that male threatening Takeo set something off in him. “I’m just shocked at what I did. That’s really not like me.”
Takeo rubbed his hands up and down Szin’s arms, then took Szin by the hand and led him to the bedroom. “Who says that’s not like you? Szin, you have the blood of a warrior in your veins. So you look human. So you act human. The point is you do have Ta’Narian blood in you. You may not have their height or weight, but then, neither does Dale. And the stories Colt and Ti have told about that one are amazing.”
“What do you mean?” Szin let Takeo pull him back to the bedroom. Just having Takeo touch him calmed the shakes.
“That male changed the fabric of an entire culture. Gods, he affected the Onfre too. He managed to bring peace to two fractions that hated each other. He didn’t do that with brawn, Szin. He did that by being himself… his very smart self. Did you know he was the one that set Ti and Colt up? Even when the Ta’Narian’s weren’t sure Colt would make a good mate, Dale believed in him and argued against him being sold as a slave.”
“Really? I didn’t know.” Szin stopped by the bed.
“He also brought an end to the harvest as they knew it. The last trip to Earth they asked for volunteers. They didn’t just take young men as they had before. Dale was responsible for that.” Takeo threw the covers back.
“How do you know this stuff?”
Takeo reached out and held Szin’s chin, looking deep into his eyes. “Because I asked. I didn’t just assume. You’ve assumed your whole life that since you look human, you’re less. You’ve had this inferior complex about yourself from nearly day one. Babe, you are special—a twin. That is a rarity in its self. But you are so much more.”
“What-what do you mean?” Szin shivered as Takeo undid the draw string pants he wore.
“You and your brother can speak telepathically. You are a twin. You two could even speak to Dale from the womb. You, my mate, are not a freak.” Takeo caressed Szin’ jaw. “No, you are a gift from the Gods. But more than that, you have the ability inside you to give the gift of life. Something I do not have the ability to do.”
Szin’s mouth fell open. “But… you have Ta’Narian DNA.”
Takeo other hand fisted Szin’s pants, pulling him closer. “I do, yes. I have some of their features. But I do not have the womb. I might have the strength, the height, the ability to fight, but you my sweet Szin, have the ability to make a life. And that’s something I would give anything for.” Takeo’s hand released and Szin’s pants fell to his feet, leaving him nude.
“I-I… oh dear God, I have no idea. I just assumed…” Szin cut himself off as realization washed over him. He’d assumed a lot… too much. Most of it was wrong too. Takeo’s words were the balm to his spirit, the scratch to an endless itch he’d had for way too long. He wasn’t nothing after all. He was different, but in a special way. And staring at the male whose red eyes shone with such love, he finally saw how special he was. “Oh fuck Takeo, I’ve been so stupid. I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through. God… I love you.”
Takeo leaned forward and feathered his lips over Szin’s. “It was a battle worth fighting for. You were worth fighting for. I love you too. Now,” Takeo stepped back, and his voice subtly changed. “Kneel for me, mate.”
Szin stood for a moment, desire and something else roaring through him. Was that fear? Could he give up this new found strength and belief in his self? He knew Takeo had a dominant side, but was he truly the submissive Takeo thought he was? What if he wasn’t? Or what if he couldn’t satisfy Takeo? Emotions set up a nasty, bubbling brew in his mind as he stared at Takeo helplessly.
“Szin, in case you didn’t know—the submissive is the one that has the power in the relationship. Not the Dom. Being submissive is an act of courage all on its own. It takes strength to give your body over to someone. And you, my mate, are one of the strongest males I know.”
Szin lowered himself to his knees, and every question inside him, every fear that threatened him, fell away as he lowered his eyes. The feeling of rightness that came over him as he settled on his knees was one he hadn’t felt before. This was right.
“Beautiful.” Takeo reached out and brushed his hand across Szin’s hair. “You are simply beautiful, mate.” He slid his hand under Szin’s jaw and nudged his chin up until Szin looked at him.  “By the end of the night you will be mine in every way.” Takeo strode to a wall and opened a unit. He withdrew a pair of fur-lined manacles.
Returning to Szin, he held his hand out. Taking the offered hand, Szin was pulled to his feet and led to the bed. Takeo kissed Szin briefly, then eased back, one finger running down the naked chest in front of him. With the lightest of force, he pushed Szin onto the bed.
“Hands up.” Takeo hummed with pleasure as he watched Szin hesitate, then raise his arms over his head. Szin was unsure, but Takeo didn’t feel any fear coming from Szin. Gently he kissed a wrist before he fastened one cuff on, then cuffed the other hand, restraining Szin’s arms to the bed post. That alone had Takeo hard and hurting—seeing Szin tied to his bed had been a recurring dream for as long as he could remember.
“Open your legs for me.” Next he tied one leg, feet flat and knees bent, to a hook under the bed. Then he tied Szin’s other leg open, also bent at the knee.
Takeo ran one finger up Szin’s legs, enjoying the muscles that twitched and jumped. His mate was tied spread-eagle on the bed with both legs spread open and bent—helpless. Takeo hissed softly, his tongue flickering out to taste the air, and smiled. Desire rode the in the air around them. Szin was excited by the ropes, the feeling of helplessness. Takeo clamped down on his own rampaging desire. His cock ached, the need to be buried in his mate an endless beat in his head, but he shoved that back. Szin needed his full attention.
“Give a word that will let me know you mean stop. Pick a word that you wouldn’t use normally in a situation like this.”
Szin bit his lip. “You mean a safe word, right?”
Takeo paused, and looked at Szin. “Good, you’ve researched this. Right, a safe word. I will only stop if you use that word. Otherwise any begging, crying, or yelling will be ignored.”
Szin thought for a moment, then looked at Takeo. “Birthday.”
Takeo snorted. “You do have a sense of humor.”
A smile cut across Szin’s face. “Well, it is my birthday.”
Takeo’s hear thudded painfully. That smile—he planned on seeing a lot more of that bright, happy smile. He grasped Szin’s hips, lifted them up, and placed a pillow under Szin, raising his hips slightly off the bed. He crawled up on the bed between Szin’s knees and leaned over, starting into his mate’s eyes, his red ones promising sinful pleasure. Lowering his head, his sharp fangs playfully nipped Szin’s bottom lip, a promise of what was to come. His hissing was louder now.
Szin breath caught; dear God looked like a predator on the hunt as he moved over him. He could feel the vibrations of Takeo hissing against his chest. That warning nip had him opening his mouth, letting Takeo’s tongue delve inside. Takeo explored his mouth, making him jerk on the bed. Again and again Takeo’s mouth slanted over his, urging him to reply to his kiss; to give up control. The feel of his shaft rubbing against him had Szin melting into the bed. Takeo’s mouth left to slowly skim along the column of his throat and he tilted his head back, baring his neck to Takeo—a sure sign of submission.
Takeo eagerly rubbed his fangs against his mate’s throat. Resting on one elbow, one of his hands drifted down and flatted against Szin’s groin, toying with him, making him moan. Takeo squeezed, making Szin eyes snap up to locked eyes with his. “You will never run from me again, will you?”
Awareness swept through Szin from what he saw in Takeo’s eyes. The demand was there, but there was also a plea. “No. Never again. I’m done running. I love you, Takeo.”
He swallowed hard at the relief he saw in Takeo’s eyes. Takeo didn’t say anything, just moved away and settled between his spread legs. Szin’s eyes rolled as Takeo focused on his feet, leisurely licking the inside of his ankle—little nibbling bits that sent tingles straight to his cock as Takeo traveled up his leg until he reached his knee. Gently Takeo nipped him there, then rubbed his tongue over the small hurt. Szin arched on the bed, surprised that such an inconspicuous spot on his body could arouse him so. Would Takeo bite him there? He tugged at the cuffs, enjoying the slight bite of the cuff that held him securely.
Takeo continued up Szin’s leg, stopping to tease the muscles, making them jump. He then crossed over, ignoring the one place Szin wanted his mouth most. Slowly Takeo traveled down the other leg, nipping and kissing. Nearly insane already, Szin twisted on the bed, his cock rolling back and forth on his belly spreading precome. Finally, Takeo scooted up between Szin’s legs and gently ran a finger down his twitching cock.
Szin squeeze his eyes close and bit his lips. “Please.” Szin moaned as Takeo stroked his shaft “Takeo, please.”
“Soon,” he promised.
Szin’s mouth opened to speak, and then promptly snapped shut as one of Takeo’s hands drifted along his belly, making the muscles jump. Szin’s chest rapidly rose and fell as Takeo’s tongue followed the path of his hand, licking a blazing trail across Szin’s stomach to his nipples.
“Stay still,” Takeo whispered as he again settled back down between Szin’s knees and grinned, his fangs showing clearly.
Breathing hard, Szin waited. He knew, that for now, the more he begged the longer Takeo would wait before doing what he so desperately craved. When he brought his shaking body under control, Takeo’s head lowered and took the head of Szin’s cock in his mouth.
“Oh dear God,” Szin cried out, those sharp teeth holding him still better than any rope could. With a growl Takeo bobbed up and down Szin’s cock, pulling it into his throat each time. “I’m getting close,” Szin panted. Takeo had barely gotten started and already he was right there, his balls tightening.
Takeo released Szin’s cock, his voice a low rumble. “Not yet. Wait until I say, Szin.”
Szin moaned deeply as his body struggled to obey Takeo. This ability Takeo had to control his raging need amazed him. Takeo was relentless in his quest to bring Szin pleasure, and to push his control to the limits.
“Please…” Begging, Szin thrust his hips up, knowing that might make Takeo tease him even more, but unable to stop himself. “Please, Takeo... I need you. I’ve wanted for so long. ”
“What? Getting fucked? Or getting fucked by me?”
“You. Getting fucked by you.”
“Gods, babe.” Goaded by the words he’d waited a lifetime to hear, Takeo grabbed the lube from the table, and poured some onto his fingers. He teased around Szin’s hole, spreading the lube around.
Whimpering, Szin pushed back against Takeo’s finger, feeling so wanton and needy as those fingers moved in and out of his channel. There were no feelings of fear or worry, just need blooming through him. He wantedthis, even the burn of those fingers in his virgin ass. Two fingers entered him, twisting and turning deep inside, searching for his hot spot as the burn spread and struck hard. Finally, they hit that nub and pleasure flooded Szin.
“Oh, damn…” Szin’s body reacted, the need to shoot nearly overwhelming him.
In and out Takeo’s fingers went, pushing in hard and fast as Szin rode those long wicked fingers. He was panting and sweating, his body twisting against the cuffs and ropes that held him, nearly mindless. Surprising, even being tied didn’t scare him. No, it only served to fuel his raging need. It felt right. He knew Takeo wouldn’t let him come yet; oh no, Takeo planned to be inside him before he was allowed to orgasm… then bite him as he exploded. Szin shuddered at the thought, not sure even Takeo would be able to stop him from coming once he pierced the skin.
“Nearly…” Szin strained against him, “there.” He was so close; so, so very close… teetering on the very edge. Just one little push was all he needed to trip.
“Not until I say, Szin,” Takeo warned again. “If you come without permission, I’ll flip you over and spank that ass red before I mate you.”
Desperately Szin tried to grab the reins of the out of control desire that ruled his body. He shuddered as he thought about being spanked, but his cock seemed to like the idea. It jerked on his stomach as Szin tried to image what Takeo’s hand slapping down on his ass would feel like.  
“Like the thought of that, didn’t you?” Takeo hissed, then curious to see what would happen, smacked the inside of one thigh.
“Oh, oh… my God.” Szin fought the ropes as he went light-headed. Takeo hadn't hit him hard, but the sting added to his rampant pleasure.
Takeo watched the flush that covered Szin’s face. He brought his hand down several more times, making sure to cover the inside of Szin’s thigh with well placed hits before he transferred to the other thigh. Szin cried out, jerking against the bounds that held him, sweet little cries that sang like music to Takeo’s ears. Szin never went soft; if anything, his cock was harder now than before.
“Like a little pain with the pleasure, huh?” Takeo swatted Szin once more. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, Szin.”
“I-I-I… need…” Head twisting back and forth the on the bed, Szin lost himself in what Takeo was doing to his body, unable to speak through the sea of feeling he was drowning in.
“I know what you need,” Takeo lubed his cock, and pulled up to his knees. “Push out as I enter you.”
Takeo rubbed the head around the fluttering hole that beckoned him to enter, to push in and claim what was his—what the Gods themselves had ordained belong to him. Steadying his dick with his hand, he pushed forward, the guardian muscle fighting him. Szin cried out under him as he pushed through, sliding into heat and tightness.
“Takeo!”
Frozen above his lover, he wrestled with himself, trying to keep his body still so Szin could adjust. Szin’s channel squeezed his cock brutally tight; the silken feel and heat demanded he thrust, ride Szin hard until his mate screamed out his pleasure and gave himself over to Takeo.
“Oh, fuck.”
Szin breathless cries brought him back; Szin wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. His mate was untried, and he was hurting him.
“Easy, babe. I’m not going to move until you’re ready. Just…” Takeo bit his cheek, the small pain focusing him. “Just relax. Let your body ease around me. Stopping fighting me, and you’ll loosen up. Breathe with me… in… out… Come on, Szin.”
Szin gasped out a breath, then tried to pull another in his restricted lungs. Shit, that wasn’t the only thing restricted. Takeo was huge, filling him to the point of pain. Why did he think this would be pleasurable? Takeo was going to split him in half.
“Hurts,” he whispered.
Takeo, still embedded in Szin, let his body rest on top of his mate. “I’m not moving until you’re ready. Just breathe with me—follow along with my breaths. It’ll get better. It’ll feel so good, babe…”
“I… yeah. It’s better now, Takeo.” Szin wanted to reach up and run his hands through all that dark hair. “Wish I could touch you.”
Takeo reached up and undid one of the cuffs. “There you go.”
Szin tangled his hand in all that hair and jerked Takeo closer to him, kissing him hard. When they separated, Szin touched Takeo on the cheek. “I’m ready. Fuck me, Takeo. Take what’s yours and bind us together.”
“Gods,” Takeo whispered, his head spinning. With a few simple words, Szin had reduced him to goo. “I’ll fuck you later; right now I’m going to make love to you.”
Takeo braced his hands on the bed. He stayed on top of Szin’s spread body, easing out until the head of his cock was the only thing left in Szin, and surged back in, the slid of his dick into heat and silk the best thing he had ever felt.
“Yesss...” Szin moaned, his back arched as he was filled. “Love me…. hard, Takeo.”
A little bit of pain with the pleasure.
Takeo’s lips pulled back, showing his fangs, and slammed in—giving Szin what he wanted. He tilted his hips and struck something inside his lover, making Szin’s eyes go wide and his breath catch. Eyes unfocused, body arching… Szin was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Nailing his hot spot with each thrust, he rode Szin, the both of them making noise to fill the room from their love making. It was time…
He leaned closer, his fangs fully down. “Szin…”
Szin saw the fangs… and knew. He tilted his head back, baring his throat telling Takeo, without words, he was ready as Takeo pounded away inside him.
“Come!” Takeo bit down—fangs sinking into the soft area between Szin’s neck and shoulder. His thrusts faulted, and he froze inside Szin, shooting deeply, flooding his mate.
Szin’s body obeyed, his orgasm sweeping through him and his seed spraying over his belly. He screamed as sweet bliss swept over him. He never dreamed having fangs in his neck would feel so damn good, and when Takeo bit him it had hurt, but that hadn’t lasted long. The sharp sting had given way quickly to raw pleasure.
Takeo raised his head, a few drops of blood on his lips. “You are mine. Say it.”
“Yours,” Szin whispered as he looked up at Takeo. “I’ve always been yours.”
“And I’ve always been yours too. We are bound by Fate.”
Takeo kissed Szin, tongues tangling. When Szin groaned and tried to stretch his legs, Takeo released those sweetly swollen lips and moved off his mate. He released Szin’s legs, which flopped down on the bed. Takeo untied Szin’s other hand, undid the ropes around his legs, and put the manacles up.
Szin body was a limp mess sprawled on the bed, but he wore a silly, happy smile. “I think moving is out of the question.”
 “I gotcha.” Takeo lifted his mate into his arms, cradling him. Szin rested his head against Takeo’s shoulder as he was carried to the shower. Sitting Szin down, Takeo turned the shower on and stepped into the hot, pounding water with Szin. Gently Takeo washed his mate’s over-stimulated body, then cleaned up. He stripped the bed, and changed the sheets. Helping Szin back to the bed, he lay down with him.
“So, what did you do to me?” Szin lay back on a pillow.
“The place where I bit you will scar, and I injected a little of my DNA in you. It won’t change you, but I’ll be able to find you now any in any crowd. It’s like a beacon.”
“Oh.” Szin frowned. “If we should have young, will they be affected? I wouldn’t mind seeing a young with your features.”
“I’m not really sure.” Takeo scratched his belly. “That’s something we need to ask your parents.”
Szin bit his tender bottom lip. “Yeah, and speaking of parents—”
“Yeah.” Takeo pulled Szin closer. “Yours andmine.  I have no idea how Colt is going to react to what I did. He and Dale are close.” Takeo shrugged. “I’m going to have some ‘plaining to do.”
“Yes, you are, Lucy.”
Takeo pinched Szin on the hip. “Huh? Lucy? Did you hit your head while we were—”
“Oh stop. I’m talking about a very old Earth show dad had recorded on a holo for my little brother.” Szin snuggled closer. “You regret it?”
Takeo kissed Szin’s head, knowing what he meant. “No, I don’t. I did what I had to do, and I’d do it again. I told you once that nothing would keep me from you, not even you. I’ll deal with whatever comes of this.”
“No, Takeo. We’ll deal with it.” Szin yawned. “We’re mated now. So we do this together.”
Takeo pulled the covers up over them. “Later. We’ll deal with them later. Right now you need to sleep.”
Szin threw his leg over Takeo. “Oh? And why do Ineed to sleep?”
“Because we’re here for a few days yet and tomorrow I plan to introduce you to Ti’s playroom.”
“Well good grief.” The EndOkay y’all, that’s the end of Szin’s story. Hope you guys enjoyed Szin and Takeo’s journey. Yes, there are questions left. If I ever publish this, those will be answered. This is over 24K, and that’s close to half of what I’d plan for a book.  Ask Tali Spencer what happens when you put your whole work up. Having my work stolen and published by a thief isn’t a headache I want to deal with like she had to. And if DSP takes The Harvest series this will have to come down anyway at some point. Why? DSP will own the first rights to the story and any characters that stem from the original series. Next week I’ll get back with the Wednesday Briefers. I’ll see if I can cook something up for the next several weeks having to do with Christmas. J~M

More Good News!

Hey guys! I have some more good news! Yesterday Dreamspinner contracted Be My Alien. The release date is May/June. This is the first book in a series called Moonlit Skies.

This is the first time I've co-authored a book, and it's been a lot of fun. The other author is Julie Lynn Hayes. I first met Julie several months ago when she was the Editor in Chief on Nighttime Dreams.

*Laugh* I don't think RFP nor Julie had even seen a story with tentacles before. As Julie edited Nighttime Wishes and Nighttime Dreams, she became interested in aliens. :) Then she helped with The Harvest:Taken and the scifi bug bit her. *Snicker* She blames me for this. LOL!!! Well, the more we talked, the more the idea of writing something together grew.

And Be My Alien was born.

So, what's the story about? Well, aliens, of course! Fabrintazo, a sexy alien from Trygos, has his dream come true when he finally catches the attention of Vorlod, another male he’s been asking out for a while. When Vorlod accepts, Fabrintazo—Taz, for short—is overjoyed and they embark on their date to Earth.

Taz’s joy soon turns to anguish when he finds out he’s nothing more than a pawn, used by Vorlod in a quest to make another jealous. Abandoned by his date and lost in New York City, Taz stares out at the night sky, afraid and disillusioned.

Reed Hatcher, a boutique owner, literately finds himself knocked off his feet by Taz while meeting a client at the Empire State Building a couple days before Valentine’s Day. Passion simmers between the two as they tentatively come to grasps with each other and their differences... and there are some differences, lol, that show up when Taz is aroused. ;)

Taz, believing he has no way home, wants to stay with Reed on Earth and be his mate. The decision made, Taz and Reed ready themselves for their new life, only to have Vorlod return with every intention of taking Taz back home with him.

~~~ Julie and I are working on book #2 in the series. We hope to make this one long enough to go into print. The picture shown is something we came up with until we have a cover for the first book.
~M 

Winner for the Christ T. Kat giveaway

  Jay Congrats, Jay! I’ve emailed Chris with your email addy. Thanks to everyone that took part. I’d say we had an excellent turnout!Don't forget the Christmas bloghop is coming on the 14th... more chances to win free books!~M

Hey everyone! Visiting with me today is Dreamspinner...

Hey everyone! Visiting with me today is Dreamspinner author Chris T. Kat. She’s going to share her latest release, A Purrfect Match, with us and do a giveaway! Her book will be released on December 10th through DSP and the usual distributors.
 So, for the giveaway: Leave a comment and an email addy. I'll use Random.Org to pick a winner and let Chris know. She'll get in touch with the winner about the copy of her book! The giveaway runs from now to the 10th. Let me say from reading the blurb... this looks really good. And it has a cat lol! She also included a special treat for us... Chapter One!       Blurb:
When a bad day at work culminates in losing out on a promotion, Jim Sanders shifts into his animal form to let off steam. Then his bad day turns into a bad night—while prowling his Atlantic City neighborhood as a large gray house cat, he’s caught in a torrential downpour. What little luck he has washes down the gutter when his new boss, Andrew Wright, catches him taking shelter on his porch, brings him inside, and starts calling him Mr. Frosty.
 
As a feline, Jim becomes the inadvertent confessor for his boss’s lonely son, Tony, a victim of schoolyard bullying. As a human, he feels drawn to Andrew, a man he wanted to resent. Finding love was never part of Jim’s plan for the future—not with his bizarre secret—yet suddenly he finds himself navigating that minefield anyway. But not everything is easy, especially for an interracial gay couple dealing with prejudice in the workplace, at Tony’s school, and even within their own families.  
 
Buy link:  
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3437    
Chapter One Monday Wet darts pelted the cat’s thick fur. Annoyed, the feline meowed before hurrying along the sidewalk, looking for shelter. He should have stayed at home, in his nice little apartment in Venice Park, Atlantic City, where he could overlook the Atlantic Ocean—dry. None of the buildings he encountered appealed to the cat even though his long silvery fur was already soaked, itching slightly. Still, the cat dashed on, ignoring the increasingly uncomfortable feeling of clotted fur. After a while, he reached the outskirts of a neighborhood and slowed down marginally. Inspecting the neighborhood more closely, the cat realized he was a long way from home. He should have realized this when he'd run over Albany Avenue bridge, but he'd been occupied by his desire to find a warm shelter. His stroll had taken him to Chelsea Heights; he'd probably have sore paws by the time he was back home. The rain’s intensity increased, making it difficult for even the cat to see. The feline rounded several houses and looked for cat flaps but found none. Even more annoyed, the silver-furred cat took refuge on a small porch, where he curled his shivering body into a tight ball on the doormat. At least he wouldn’t get any wetter there. The cat shrieked when the door suddenly burst open, revealing a small blond-haired boy with thick glasses hiding bright-blue eyes. The boy lifted the cat into his arms, his quick reaction surprising the cat and making it impossible for the feline to give in to his initial flight reaction. Talking soothingly, the boy cuddled the big cat against his chest. Not wanting to hurt the boy, the cat didn’t fuss. “Tony!” a man called from inside. The cat, who had frozen in the boy’s embrace, turned his face toward the man’s voice. A blond-haired man, his longish hair cut in a fashionable style, dressed in tightly fitting dark-blue sweatpants and a gray hoodie, came into the cat’s focus. “Tony, you can’t just pick up a strange cat! It’s all wet and what if it hurt you?” “But, Daddy! Animals don’t hurt me. They know I’m harmless,” the boy answered, a hint of exasperation showing in his voice. The boy and the man had obviously had this conversation before. The father of the boy crouched down behind his son and sighed. He didn’t get any further because Jim, the cat, suddenly hissed. Jim’s eyes narrowed and he readied to attack the man in front of him—the man he had met for the first time today, only a few hours ago. The man who had taken the position Jim had applied for.                             A few hours ago Jim Sanders walked into the office building and over to the elevator, where he pressed the call button. As he waited he held himself stiffly, angry anticipation coiling in his stomach. He clutched his briefcase, the knuckles of his hand turning white from the pressure of his grip. He stepped inside the elevator, nodding to a secretary who rode with him. Catching his reflection in the shiny steel interior of the elevator, Jim sighed inwardly. He saw a visibly enraged African-American man with his jaw set in a stubborn way and his dark-brown eyes blazing. No wonder the secretary threw nervous glances in his direction. Jim tried to pull himself together. No matter what, he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing his anger. The job as an art director for TLC Publishing should have been his. He had the right qualifications, the right age, hell, he even represented a minority. Hadn’t it said in the job advertisement “minorities preferred”? So much for that. When the owner, Marshall Trimpter, had notified Jim he didn’t get the job, Jim had been tempted to play the minority card, or even accuse his boss of prejudice. To complicate matters further, Marshall was also a friend. Jim hadn’t fought Marshall’s decision because he wanted to get the job for his talent. But that didn’t change the fact that he was furious. The job went to thirty-year-old, white Andrew Wright. How can someone who is five years younger than me get the job that belongs to me? Jim scowled at his own reflection, starting when the elevator dinged softly. The doors opened, allowing the pale secretary to flee. Jim almost snorted in disdain. Just because he looked grim didn’t mean he was dangerous. The secretary probably only registered Jim’s impressive height of six foot six and his weight of 240 pounds, all stuffed into a dark charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, and navy-blue tie. Jim made another attempt at pulling himself together. He straightened up, breathed in and out deeply several times, then darted another quick glance at his reflection. Good. He didn’t look dangerous anymore, only slightly pissed off. It was at least an improvement. He strolled out of the elevator and was walking toward the small office he shared with Brian, one of the other illustrators, when Marshall called out for him. Jim managed not to grimace and instead pasted a polite smile on his face. “Good morning, Marshall.” “Good morning to you too,” the older man replied. Marshall was in his midfifties, a compactly built man with a rapidly growing waistline. Behind him stood a significantly younger man. Marshall gestured between Jim and the other man. “Jim, this is Andrew Wright, our new art director.” Jim stiffened imperceptibly but held out his hand for the younger man to shake. Wright’s eyes widened subtly when Jim engulfed his hand. Jim watched Wright’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down several times in quick succession before he regained his composure. Wright smiled up at him, large green-blue eyes twinkling as he brushed a stray strand of dark-blond hair from his forehead. The man was beautiful. Jim swallowed and reminded himself forcefully that this… this kid had stolen his job. On the other hand—it didn’t mean Jim wasn’t allowed to drink in the sight of one of the most beautiful male faces he’d ever seen. Wright’s skin was lightly tanned, and freckles covered his nose and across his cheeks. A deep chin cleft—one that even compared to Michael Douglas’s cleft—completed Wright’s face. Jim estimated Wright’s height around six feet and his weight at no more than 180 pounds, but in comparison to Jim, Wright seemed almost delicate. Most people seemed delicate next to Jim, which at times made things easier, but usually his impressive build intimidated everyone around him, complicating his life. Wright cleared his throat and wiggled his fingers. Jim realized he hadn’t let go of Wright’s hand. Marshall eyed him curiously. Repressing the urge to rub his thumb over the smooth skin on Wright’s hand, Jim squeezed Wright’s hand again, then let go. “Welcome aboard, Andrew.” “Thank you.” Marshall laid a hand on Andrew’s shoulder, prompting him to turn around. He glanced at Jim and said, “I’ll introduce Andrew to everyone. I expect you to join us in my office at ten thirty so we can discuss the next campaigns and book covers, etcetera.” “I’ll be there.” Marshall nodded and guided Andrew over to one of the web designers, Carla Mendez. Andrew bestowed a dazzling smile at Carla, eliciting an equally broad smile from Carla. Jim turned abruptly on his heels. Just what I need—salivating after the man who snatched away my job.     Somehow, Jim managed to get through the day. His feelings alternated between envy and arousal whenever he happened to be around Andrew, which happened quite a lot during the day. Jim didn’t know whether he approved of those circumstances or not. He was close to admitting to himself he liked Andrew when the man made a crucial error—he criticized one of Jim’s works. Andrew wrapped his critique up in otherwise nice and complimentary words, but only the criticism stuck with Jim. At the end of the day, he left early, claiming he had a headache from hell. He did have a headache, though it wasn’t as unbearable as he made it out to be. Fact was, he didn’t trust his newly blossomed anger not to spill over and lead him to act on impulse. As much as he loathed Andrew’s presence, Jim didn’t want to lose his job. He drove home, ate a light dinner, then paced his small living room. Eventually he gave in, shifted into his feline form, and hurried out of his apartment. He welcomed the easy, carefree set of his mind, how all his worries, and especially his anger, fell off him when he shifted into his cat form. His feline alter ego did wonders for his temper. He just didn’t expect the rain. Nor did he expect to seek shelter at Andrew Wright’s home.     Present Time Andrew Wright hastily pulled his hand out of reach of the hissing cat. Jim’s body vibrated from barely restrained anger, a feeling he couldn’t recall ever having had in his shifted form. “Daddy! Don’t yell, you’re scaring Mr. Frosty,” the boy protested. Jim pushed his forepaws against the small clavicle and stared at the boy. Mr. Frosty? “Mr. Frosty?” Andrew echoed Jim’s confusion perfectly. The boy, Tony, lifted his chin, daring his father to object. “Yes, Mr. Frosty. It’s the name I gave him.” “Tony,” Andrew sighed. “I want to keep him,” Tony declared. Deciding this could be interesting, Jim changed tactics. Instead of hissing and pushing away from the boy, he snuggled closer and purred loudly. Tony tightened his arms around him. Laboriously, the boy clambered to his feet with the big cat in his arms. “Tony,” Andrew sighed again, his voice taking on a pleading edge. He carded his left hand through his hair, ruffling it until he looked decidedly disheveled. Jim gazed up at him, waiting for Andrew’s next words. “Tony, I know you’re missing Lady, but we can’t just take in a stray cat.” “Why not?” Yes, why not? Jim watched Andrew, how he struggled to find the right answer. “Well, we don’t know what kind of diseases this cat has. It doesn't have a collar or anything, and I don’t want either of us to get sick.” Jim saw Tony mulling this over. Obviously he didn’t take the comment lightly. Jim reverted to an unfair tactic—he pushed his head against Tony’s cheek, rubbing and eliciting happy giggling noises. He heard Andrew mutter in defeat. “Oh, great. All right, let’s take Mr. Frosty inside and towel him off.” Point one for Jim, the cat.     Tony carried Jim inside, all the while chattering nonstop—how beautiful he was, how much fun they’d have. Jim felt a pang of guilt for leading the boy on. He seemed like a nice enough kid, one that simply wanted a pet to cuddle and take care of. Before Jim had time to process his feelings, Andrew came over, holding a towel. “Okay, Mr. Frosty, I hope you have no objection to me drying you off?” Carefully and slowly, Andrew reached out for the cat. Jim cocked his head to one side, ready to bat at Andrew’s hands purely to be an ass, but Tony slid one small hand under his chest, lifting him up a notch. “It’s okay. Daddy won’t hurt you. He’s good with animals and he’s helped a lot of them. Sometimes we took them to a vet because we couldn’t help….” Tony rambled on about all the good deeds of Andrew Wright. Jim couldn’t help the resentment building up inside of him. Not only had Andrew taken Jim’s job, he had the looks to turn heads, and he was also the father of an adorable kid and rescued animals in need. Mr. Perfect, eh? It was more than Jim could bear at that moment. Lashing out with his forepaw, he left a deep scratch mark on Andrew’s hand. Point two for Jim, the cat. Andrew cursed. He also grabbed Jim and swiftly carried the struggling cat to the front door. Damn! One point for Andrew! “Daddy!” Tony cried. Little feet pounded on the floor as Tony ran after his father. Jim had to admit—albeit reluctantly—that this obviously wasn’t the first time Andrew had held a struggling cat. Jim caught a determined expression on Andrew’s face, one that clearly said Jim wasn’t welcome here anymore. “Daddy, no! Please!” “Tony! It’s a stray cat. It’s bad enough it lashed out at me for no apparent reason, but I won’t take the risk of you getting hurt by it. This is not up for discussion. Please open the screen door for me.” Tony planted himself in front of the door, his arms crossed over his little chest and a deep scowl firmly in place. “No.” “Tony! Move it!” Andrew raised his voice while he glared down at his son. Jim stopped his struggle momentarily, darting a worried glance from Andrew to Tony. The boy’s lower lip trembled suspiciously, but he held his ground. Andrew’s eyes glistened brightly, and finally it dawned on Jim—Andrew was scared for his boy’s safety. He most likely also felt bad for yelling at his son, and this whole turmoil was all Jim’s fault. Damn! What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t get the job. Who’d want such an angry and spiteful man to be their boss? Not sure whether he would be able to salvage the situation, Jim licked Andrew’s hand with his rough tongue, a loud rumbling purr reverberating through his body. Andrew stared down at him with a wide-eyed expression. Tony took a step toward them before tentatively placing his hand on his father’s forearm. Softly he said, “Maybe Mr. Frosty was scared. He’s not mean. See? He’s trying to make it all better. Maybe he’d feel better if I rub him down? Please, Daddy?” Jim saw Andrew’s eyes soften, the love and affection for his son showing openly. He breathed a sigh of relief when Andrew replied equally softly, “Okay.” Andrew carried Jim back to the sofa, where he placed the cat on his son’s lap. Tony crooned to him as he carefully rubbed Jim’s fur dry. Andrew hovered next to them, ready to grab the cat and rescue Tony in case Jim went ballistic again. Jim didn’t blame Andrew for his bout of overprotectiveness. When Jim’s coat was to Tony’s satisfaction, the boy scooted back to a corner of the sofa, pulling the cat with him. Jim got the hint and stretched out atop Tony’s abdomen, purring in a never-ending drone and butting his head against the boy’s chin every now and then. He heard Tony whisper, “Can we keep him? Please, Daddy.” “He seems to be an outdoor cat, Tony. I don’t know if he’d like to stay with us,” Andrew replied hesitantly. “Oh, but he’ll like it here just great, you’ll see,” Tony stated with conviction. Andrew patted his son’s legs before he gathered the wet towel and stood up. “We’ll see. By the way, how was school?” Jim felt a shiver roll through Tony’s small form. The boy slung his arms around the cat, then pulled Jim further up, until he was able to stick his nose into Jim’s thick fur. “Okay,” Tony mumbled. Jim stopped purring. Even hecould tell the boy was lying. Jim pushed his head firmly against Tony’s cheek and meowed, as if asking Tony to go on and elaborate. Andrew came back to them, a frown on his face. “Tony?” Jim nudged the boy’s face gently. In shock, he saw Tony’s eyes fill with tears behind his thick glasses. Andrew crouched next to them, one hand cupping the back of his son’s head as he asked, “Hey, squirt, what happened?” Tony’s lower lip trembled and he pulled his glasses off to rub his stinging eyes. Andrew pressed a kiss to his temple, waiting patiently for an answer. Jim wondered why Andrew didn’t push for an answer, seeing that Tony was so upset. To voice his impatience, he meowed again. “Silas… Silas picked on me.” “Do you know why?” “Because I have no mother and because… because you’re a horrible, sick person. Since you’re horrible, I am as well. He told the other kids not to play with me,” Tony choked out. Jim stared at Tony’s tear-streaked face, his heart going out to the distressed boy. He heard Andrew swallow audibly several times. He wondered why another kid would accuse Tony’s father of being awful. “Tony, I don’t understand. You’re not horrible! Why would he say something like that?” “He says you’re sick because you’re gay.”



Chris T. Kat lives in the middle of Europe, where she shares a house with her husband of almost 15 years and their two children. She stumbled upon the M/M genre by luck and was swiftly drawn into it. She divides her time between work, her family—which includes chasing after escaping horses and lugging around huge instruments such as a harp—and writing. She enjoys a variety of genres, such as mystery/suspense, paranormal, and romance. If there's any spare time, she happily reads for hours, listens to audiobooks, or crafts. 
Visit her blog athttp://christikat.blogspot.com/   Or add her on Twitter at http://twitter.com/christi_kat You can contact her at christi_kat25@yahoo.com

Cover for Perfect

Hey everyone! I've got the final cover for Perfect. And I have to say, I'm *very* happy with it. Catt Ford is the cover artist, and she also did Priceless. Cam (Cupid) is the blond, and Catt did a wonderful job on him. For that matter, she did very well on Jeff too. ;) The background is Vegas. Honestly, I hope to work with her again on Pure. I can't wait to see what she comes up with, lol.


I don't have a release date outside of Jan/Feb yet, but Perfect is in the editing stage. As soon as I know something, I'll pass the word on.

Pure, the last book in the series, is under contract now also. :) I signed the contract a few nights ago. The release date is June/July. :)

Book #1 of The Harvest: Taken is almost ready to submit. I plan to send that off tomorrow after a few more tweaks tonight. There are three books in the series, each over 60K. So, if DSP takes them, all books of The Harvest will be long enough to go into print! How cool is that???

~M

Winner of the giveaway

And the winner is... Lori Warwick! Yay!   Lori, I've sent the email out to ya! Congrat's on winning a copy of The Portrait. And a big thank you to everyone that entered the giveaway. I'd say it was a rousing success lol! 
Special thanks to L.M Somerton for letting me interview her and have the contest. We'll have to have her back for her next release, right guys!

~M