Drawing Straws: Erik now out!

This is the first book of a new series with Resplendence. There will be four altogether – one for each guy in the foursome.



Damon, Erik, Joe, and Tork graduated together from the police academy. Though they’ve found their niches in different departments, they’ve kept a tradition alive that brings them together four times a year.

The four men meet at Erik’s secluded cabin for a long weekend and draw straws for which of them is going to be the sub. This fall, Erik draws the short straw for the first time in a couple of years, and the other three men can’t wait to play Dom to Erik’s sub.

Will the weekend go as planned or are the men beginning to tire of the fun and games?

You can find it here.


“Erik…What happened to your belly, man?” Damon looked up. “You get stabbed?”

That put an end to the kiss, and Tork stepped back, looking for himself. There was a new scar, deep and still a dark red, but healed over. Damn. Erik would have said, though, if it put him out of play for being sub—he knew they’d kill him if he endangered himself by not saying anything.

“It’s nothing. A nick.”

Joe snorted. “How many stitches?”

“Fifteen.”

“Took twenty-four when McManus got my thigh.” Joe looked like he was about to pull his pants down to show them the scar, as if they hadn’t already all seen it. As if they hadn’t torn Joe down and put him back together again the first time he’d subbed for them after it had happened.

“Bullet,” Tork reminded them, pointing to his shoulder.

“I have carpal tunnel.”

They all looked at Damon. Tork burst out laughing and the others followed. Erik reached down, scooped Damon up and kissed the man, hard.

“Come on. Bedroom.” Tork was focused. He and Joe pushed and pulled, getting their lovers down the hall.

The bedroom was huge—not as big as the locked playroom upstairs, but still, big enough for the four of them, big enough to start. The California King sized bed fit them all—barely—but it did fit them, and hell, they appreciated having to be close when it came time to sleep.

Tork pushed Erik and Damon down, the fuckers still playing tonsil-hockey, and he lay on top of Erik’s solid body, invading the kiss like he was the damn Viking.
Joe started stripping, quiet, quick, his fierce gaze like a laser. Damon turned to watch, licking his lips noisily.

Then Damon turned to Tork. “Your turn, stud.”

Tork let Damon work at his clothes, breaking his kiss off with Erik to give Damon a quick, hard buss on the lips for his trouble. Damon kissed him back, then turned that hungry kiss on Erik.

“Dibs on his ass first.” Joe was already completely naked.

Tork nodded. He could live with that. “Your beautiful mouth is mine, Erik.”

“I get to play with your prick, E, but no coming. None.”

Tork had to grin. Damon was the quiet one, but Jesus, the man was fierce. Fierce and creative.

“We’re going to take care of you, man.” They were going to blow Erik’s mind.

Tork couldn’t wait to get started.