B.A. Tortuga's Blog, page 89
December 16, 2012
Winners for this Week!
Katherine
ButtonontheTop
Jaymi
Kaytee
Rachel
Stacy Houston
Email me at batortuga at gmaildot com and tell me which backlist book you're interested in and I'll send!
*smooches*
Y'all rock!
Much love,
BA
Frosty Fiction, Day 16, Mik and Van
“Vampires don’t ski.”
Mik sat on the end of the bed, arms crossed, glaring at him.
Van chuckled, tossing another sweater at his own personal vamp. “Werewolves do. You can sit at the lodge and drink hot buttered blood.”
“That’s disgusting.” Uh-huh. Mik was way less pissy than he was letting on. Way less. Hell, Jonny had personally recommended the lodge they were going to in Switzerland...
“It’s funny. Come on, baby. Christmas on the slopes.”
“Switzerland? Seriously? Me, on an overseas flight?”
“We could take a boat, but the snowpack might be gone...”
“I’m going to bite you.”
That got him to stop tossing clothes about, making him chuckle. “Promise?”
Mik grinned, fangs gleaming. “Uh-huh.”
“That would be a nice start to Christmas.”
His own personal bloodsucker started stalking. “Ho. Ho. Ho.”
“Still taking you skiing.”
Mik growled, the sound hot as fuck. “I told you, vampires don’t ski.”
***
Mik and Van are from Cereus: Opening (thanks to Julia for letting me borrow her boy for this one).
*smooches*
Comment for Friday's giveaway!
Much love,
BA
December 15, 2012
What I Worked On This Week
Frosty Fiction, Day 15: Dave and Amos
“Dave? Baby, why are there lights on the dog house?”
“Because it looked drab.”
“There’s no one but us to see it out here, and...” Amos stopped, sniffing. Frowning, he glanced around. “Is that coffee?”
“I wish.” Dave sighed dramatically. “Iris sent more candles in her care package. Hazelnut cappucino, creme brulee, and Mocha Mint.”
“Go her.” Dave’s secretary, because Iris would never be an ex, sent all sorts of shit, all the time. She thought they were way too isolated up in the Colorado mountains. “Did she send more toffee?”
“She sent pecan brittle, bagels, and smoked salmon.” Dave stared at him. “Seriously? After so long, you’d think I’d cheat?”
“No.” He grinned and pulled Dave close. “It’s habit to ask.”
“The puppies like the Christmas lights.”
“Do they? I had to dig a ball out of Noodle’s mouth last night.”
“That’s why I hung them with string instead of hooks.”
“It’s why you got the hard plastic, too.” He knew it was important to Dave that everything was just so, especially at Christmas. “I like the candles. You want to make cookies now, baby?”
“That would be fun.” Dave came to him, lines beside those dark eyes pure laughter and sunshine. “Yeah, Shep.”
“Well, let’s get to it. I got you some bone shaped cutters to make some for the dogs, too.” Dave wasn’t the only one with Christmas spirit.
His was just less... sparkly.
***
Dave and Amos are from my very first book ever, Stress Relief. ;-)
Much love.
BA
December 14, 2012
Frosty Fiction, Day 14: Jeremy and Hollis
“Sausage balls aren’t good for you.”
“Egg nog is just empty calories.”
“Christmas cookies? MORE Christmas cookies?”
“Sugared pecans? Really?”
“You put that toffee down, Hollis!”
Hollis had had enough. Jeremy was taking this whole trainer-at-Christmas obsession too far. They were retired, now. If he gained five pounds at Christmas, he would work it off on Jeremy’s hot little ass.
He grabbed a joint, a bag of Doritos, and jar of really good olives, popped them in a box and stuck a bow on it.
“Jeremy? Baby? Come see what I got you!”
***
Jeremy and Hollis are from Living in Fast Forward. ;-)
Y'all know the drill.
Much love,
BA
Candy Cane Kink Giveaway Hop
Happy Holidays, y'all!
I saw this bloghop and had to play, too. ;-)
I love Christmas and gifting (and, okay, kink. What? Sean Michael's my best friend!) and I'm tickled to play.
Today I'm offering up a pair of crocheted hand-cuffs and a vibrator cozy, in colors of your choice. (and yes, international folks are welcome to play along *kisses*)
Happy ho ho ho and much kinky candy love.
BA
http://closeencounterswiththenightkind.blogspot.com/2012/08/candy-cane-kink-giveaway-hop-sign-up.html
December 13, 2012
Thirsty Thursday Drink Recipe: Buttery Nipples
*grins*
What?
1/2 oz. butterscotch schnapps
1/2 oz. Bailey's Irish cream
Whipped cream on top.
YUM.
Really. A sip of sex in a shot glass.
(okay, this is just Baileys, but Julia says it's too early to make one up to photograph. Damn it.)
Much love, y'all.
BA
Frosty Fiction, Day 13: Danny and Quinn
God, the cold made him hurt.
Danny crept up the stairs of the house, the couple of bags from his stop at the City Market on the way home from cleaning out his little office and telling Professor Wells happy holidays weighing a million pounds in his arms.
Please don’t let me fall. Please don’t let me fall. Please don’t let me fall.
The door opened before he could reach for the knob, Quinn right there, frowning. “Oh, God, why didn’t you call, babe? I would have come and helped.” Those big, warm hands closed on his arms, helping him over the stoop before the dog could charge him.
“Thank you.” He felt like an idiot, sore and stiff and ancient. “Cold. Good day?”
“Not bad. Couple of people being crappy to each other, but you know how that is.” Quinn dropped a kiss on his cold lips, warming them.
“I do. Semester’s officially over. Office is locked.” That meant long days in their old house, pottering around and drinking coffee.
“Yeah? Means I can melt you with a massage.”
“Oh, God. Please. Yes.” He’d sell his left nut for one.
“I thought so. Hop in the shower while I put the groceries away? Then we can start Christmas break.”
“You got it.” He kissed Quinn’s cheek. “It’s good to be home.”
“Good.” Quinn squeezed his ass. “Because I have plans for Christmas.”
Oh, yay.
He thought he felt better already.
***
Danny and Quinn are from Old Town New, which is one of my favorites from way back.
Please do leave comments, I'll be choosing winners tomorrow!
Much love,
BA
December 12, 2012
Adding to the Collection!
Rancher and homebody Derrick loves going to the bullriding finals in Reno, especially when he gets to see his favorite rider, Stone. This year he gets way more up close and personal with Stone than he ever expects, and all of his fantasies come true.
After Reno, though, Stone has nowhere to go for Christmas, so he shows up at Derrick’s ranch, knowing there’s something about Derrick that makes him think of settling down. Will Derrick panic and send Stone away, or will he had the rodeo cowboy to his collection?
***
Stone sat on the rail against the wall, sipping his beer and humming along with Alan.
He was in the money tonight, and that was the third round he'd ridden. It wasn't going to win him a championship or any such shit, but it was going to get him to January, God willing and the creek didn't rise, and it was going to keep him in the top twenty, which meant sponsorship money come next season. Praise Jesus and bull ropes.
The crowd was jumping like a frog in a skillet tonight -- the buckle bunnies out in spades, all glitz and sparkle and more fake boobies than you could shake a silicone stick at. Sometimes he wondered what made anyone work so hard to look so fake, then he remembered how much money he spent on getting his jeans starched and he'd feel like an asshole. Still, those spider eyelashes scared the living fuck out of him. They looked like they could cut a man. Flap, ow!
Now, that big old boy who just walked in wearing Wranglers and a pressed, snap-button shirt? He wasn't scary a bit. No, sir. He was pretty with a capital P. Solid and broad, with hands that would be rough and hard on a man's skin -- that was just Stone's type. Sometimes a cowboy needed a good, hard ride. This one looked like he didn't get to town much. Oh, the boots were clean, and the hat was obviously expensive, but the guy scanned the crowd like he was starving, like he had a powerful itch.
Come on, pretty baby, look over here.
Like the message actually went through, the man glanced at him, then stared, eyes widening a little. Down boy. Could just mean he knew bullriders.
He tipped his hat, though, nodded. It was a fine fucking line -- straddling between making sure someone knew you were interested and not getting your ass handed to you. The message was received, and received well, he thought. The man started moving toward him at least, and Stone didn't think it was for an imminent ass-kicking.
He stayed where he was, holding those dark, hungry eyes.
Coming to a stop about a foot away, the man nodded. "Buy you a drink?"
"Bud Lite. Please."
Oh, fuck him raw, that was a pretty man.
"Sure. Two Bud Lites, please," the man told the waitress who hovered nearby. "I'm Derrick."
"Stone." He held one hand out, shook. The handshake was everything he could hope for, warm but not sweaty, that hand big and callused.
"I know. Hope that's not weird. You made a fan out of me."
"Oh, now, a man likes to hear that. You out just for the event? You liking Reno?" You wanna fuck?
"I am, and yeah. I come every year. First time I've seen you here." Those eyes weren't as dark as he thought. Oh, they were a nice, deep green, but the pupils were dilated, Derrick looking at him like he was dessert to a good meal.
"I been on the little tour for a while. This is my first time with the big boys."
"You did yourself proud." Derrick swallowed hard. "Looked good doing it, too."
He tipped his head, the brim of his hat dipping. "Much obliged."
"You, uh, do any private demonstrations? Of how you ride?"
"Oh, hell yes." He grinned, slow and easy. "Did I say that out loud?"
***
Buy link: http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=78_85&products_id=3765
Frosty Fiction, Day 12: The Brazilians
“What are you doing, Joa?” Balta asked, staring at his lover, who stood on a ladder, naked as the day he was born.
“Hanging mistletoe.”
The view was lovely, so Balta didn’t complain, but it seemed an odd thing. “Why?”
“Because I thought it would be a good game,” Raul said, wandering into the room with a box of mistletoe hangers.
“A game.” He held one arm out and Raul came to him, a naughty look on the hawk-like face.
“Mmmhmm.” Raul smiled for him. “I thought we’d hang them all over and let the one who catches Joa under them tell him what they want him to kiss.”
“Oh. Oh, my wise Raul.” Balta beamed, grin getting wider and wider.
Joa peered down at them. “Wait. You just said there would be many kisses.”
Raul nodded. “So there will be.”
“Feliz Natal!” He applauded, most amused at this game.
Yes.
Merry Christmas to them.
***
;-)
