Guest Post by DA Ketner
First of all, thank you, Bianca, for allowing me to be here!
I'm KevaD, and I read and write romance and love stories – het and gay.
And, I'm a man. A het male no less.
I'm also a fan of Don Pendleton's action adventure books, the ones written before he died (the publisher bought the rights to his name and the series continues to this day) and any mystery/thriller by Sam Reaves. Add to that I used to dismantle bombs for a living, assisted the Secret
Service and State Department in the protection of the President, Vice-President, and Secretary of State while on foreign soil, spent over two
decades as a cop with all the trimmings (detective, undercover narcotics –false identity, the whole shtick – night shift commander, and eventually chief of police), and you start to get the idea. Shoot, I once grabbed eight other cops and waded into a riot of over a hundred people. I'm an Alpha Leo to boot.
So, what's a goon like me doing reading and writing romance stories?
Quite simply, I love love. More so, I'm passionate about love. Two people, regardless of gender, who find each other in spite of the obstacles life throws in their way warms my heart and brings a smile to my stoic face.
To be honest, when I found out my first book scheduled to be published was my gay, romantic comedy "Out of the
Closet" I wasn't sure how friends and family would react. So I created KevaD – read it backwards. My real name is David Kentner. Not much of a
disguise, is it? Nor was it meant to be. I'm very comfortable being who I am.
My wife on the other hand was the one who had to field the obvious question about her husband writing gay romance. Fortunately, she has a sense of humor.
When I wrote the romantic suspense novel "Sunday Awakening" I wanted the story to be more than the standard fair. I wanted an obstacle that might not be overcome. One so important, so dear to each and every one of us, that once it's gone we might never get it back. I found two that fit that bill. Trust and home.
My female lead, Cheryl, has never known either one. But to find the home she craves, she needs to develop the other. The route she chooses to learn trust isn't always pleasant, nor necessarily understandable to those of us who know what "trust" is. But once she finds trust, she holds it like a delicate flower, terrified its fragile beauty will slip through her fingers.
"Sunday Awakening" isn't quite like any romance novel you've read before.
It's a powerful, contemporary tale of Cheryl, a woman who breaks away from sexual bondage to search for the family and home she's never known, but believes exists… somewhere.
Taylor Hughes vows to find Cheryl's past and home, knowing each mile they travel is one mile closer to the time he'll have to leave Cheryl… and his heart, behind.
Excerpt:
She stripped the bed and tossed the old sheets into the parking lot. A creak of faucet handles preceded the spray of water in the shower. After unfolding and shaking out the new sheets, she listened intently to the muted noise in the bathroom. The walls were tissue paper thin. The beat of the water on the porcelain of the tub stalled when he stepped under it. He was naked.
The image of his sweaty body running beside her—lying beside her—refused to fade. She tucked the edges of the bottom sheet under the sagging mattress and slowly smoothed it with an open palm. The musical resonance of lathering soap floated about the room. There were no washcloths in there. The two Stockard gave her were on the side table. Taylor's hands were the bow playing the muscled instrument of his body.
She lay on the bed, slipped a hand beneath her shirt, then massaged sweat-oiled skin under the waistband of her jeans while she continued to listen. Behind closed eyes, she watched him scrub from his wonderfully broad chest to the hard slab of belly.
She traced a line from waist to breasts. Barely a B, they had swollen at the sound of him, at the nakedness of him, so near. The tips were erect and over-sensitive.
Heat pulsed beneath her skin. Her tongue wetted dry lips at the thought of his sinewy body so close, so out of reach, yet, reachable, if she chose him to be.
She continued to explore her body, while visions of his strong hands sliding over his manly form under the water and froth performed a mental ballet. A throaty gasp erupted at the slapping of his hands lathering the soap again. Fingers drove under her jeans, then beneath her panties. The basin of the triangle between her thighs thickened with moisture. She wanted this man. The ball of passion rolling from her throat to her groin demanded him.
Her fingertips massaged the center of her desire. Hips writhed in response.
She jerked her hand out of her clothing and stood. Her decisions were her own now, and she had met a man she wanted. A smile formed. It hadn't happened before. There was a man in this motel room she desired. She wanted Taylor Hughes in her, on her, and every way he wanted to have her. He might be gone tomorrow, and this opportunity with him, once he learned the truth. There might only ever be this one night to know what it felt like to make . . . love . . . if such a thing held possibility for her.
If it did, she wanted him to be her first. And she wanted him now.
He debated where he'd be sleeping while he washed. She was only feet away, on the other side of the wall, and he was having trouble keeping his loins from expressing their want for her.
He turned off the hot water. The heat of his skin immunized him to the cold. He couldn't begin to explain why he felt a hunger for this woman he had just met. It didn't make any sense at all. Every logical part of his brain said this was wrong.
She needed his help, not his complications. There were things going on inside her he couldn't begin to fathom, and his mounting longing to taste her might only serve to push her further from herself.
He couldn't stay in this room tonight. Maybe he'd just sleep in the Jeep.
The clink of the shower curtain rings spun him around. His brain funneled every thought into one—she was the most beautiful and sensuous woman he had ever seen.
"Cheryl, no. I can't—" His body throbbed its betrayal of his words.
A finger to his lips silenced the objection. She stepped into the tub. "This isn't about what you want."
Excerpt Link: http://kevad-author.blogspot.com/2011/01/excerpt-sunday-awakening.html
DA Kentner/KevaD's Web Site – which will take you to his blogs, video trailers, more excerpts, works in progress, and points of
sale: http://www.kevad.net/
And, hey!
My latest novella, "A Demon Affair," was just released by Pine Wood Press. I hope you'll take a look at this story of an angel-demon and a demon-angel who, in order to survive, must kill each other –if they can ever get the whole lust issue.
