Monday, May 27, 2013

Memorial Day Flashback - Cram Night by Hank Edwards

Good Memorial Day Monday everyone! Hank Edwards here, and it's my turn up at bat for the Story Orgy weekly post ... and damned if I didn't forget about it last night! Too much three day weekend celebrating, apparently!

Anyway, since it's Memorial Day, I thought I'd not only give thanks and appreciation to the veterans who have fought and sacrificed for our country, but also post an oldie but a goodie. This is a short based on one of the photos that lovely Jade found for us before the Internet went on a photo copyright lock down. So I won't post the photo, but I'll post my story. It's also set in a college frat house, and since a lot of colleges have already or are going through finals right now, it seemed appropriate, yes?

I hope you all are having a great weekend, are safe and with those you love, and you enjoy the story.

Cram Night

by Hank Edwards

(c) June 2011

Advanced Biology sucked.

Ash thumped his forehead down onto the text book opened before him and let out a deep sigh. He was going to fail this midterm exam, and then he would fail the final (cumulative, of course), and then he would need to figure out a new major… again!

“It’s tough, isn’t it?”

The deep voice brought Ash’s head up fast and he found himself looking along the tall, strong body of none other than Mike Sutton, up and coming baseball star.

Ash blinked up at him and heard a “Huh?” come out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Mike grinned. “Advanced Biology. It’s a bitch. May as well be written in Taiwanese.” He pulled out the chair across from Ash and sat down. “Mike Sutton.”

Ash nodded, staring in dumfounded amazement at the gorgeous man before him.

Mike’s grin widened to a smile. “And you’re Ashton Bancroft, right?”

“Ash,” he corrected automatically, and blushed. “Sorry. My friends call me Ash.”

“Well, good to know I’m considered a friend.”

Ash looked around the library at the students studying around them. No one was paying them any attention, all were absorbed in their own studying nightmares. He turned back to Mike and said, “We’ve never talked before, but I’ve seen you. I mean, in class, of course, and, you know, in the dorm.”

Mike nodded and gestured to the book. “How’s the studying coming?”

Ash grimaced. “Not well.”

“Want to team up and cram together?”

The image that popped into Ash’s mind had nothing to do with studying and a lot to do with biology, and before he knew it, he was nodding.

“Let’s go back to my dorm room,” Mike suggested as he stood up and towered over Ash, the table, and pretty much everything else in the library. “My roommate’s spending the night with his girlfriend so we won’t be interrupted.”

Ash jumped to his feet and nearly dropped his text book and notebook in his haste to gather up his belongings and stuff them in his back pack. He grabbed his iPod and hurriedly wound the ear buds around the device, all the while trying to hide the bulge of his erection behind the back of the chair where he’d been sitting.

As they walked across campus, passing through the lengthening shadows of buildings and trees in the setting sun, Mike asked Ash what kind of music he listened to. Ash blushed, but admitted his love for jazz and big band music. Mike pulled an impressed face and nodded.

“I would not have guessed that,” Mike said. “I’m even more intrigued.”

Ash let that comment pass. He had too much to do, what with controlling his hard on and not letting out his usual donkey bray of a nervous laugh whenever he was around an attractive man, to dwell on what “intrigued” meant to Mike Sutton.

Before Ash knew it, they were walking into Mike’s dorm room. The place was small with two single beds on either side of the room, two desks, and posters of bikini clad women posed on kegs, sports teams, and concerts. It was also incredibly warm, like, sauna warm.

“Wow,” Ash gasped. “It’s hot in here.”

Mike closed the door and immediately stripped off his polo shirt to expose his tanned, muscular, hair-covered torso. “Yeah, we’re up here on the top floor and get hit with the afternoon sun so we roast.” He strode to the single window and cranked it open. “Nice in the winter, but fucking tough in the summer. My roommate and I usually walk around in our underwear all the time.” Mike turned to looked at Ash. “You going to be okay studying up here?”

Ash dragged his gaze from the dark nubs of Mike’s nipples sitting high on the firm, round swells of his pecs, to the man’s clear green eyes and gulped as he felt a drop of sweat rolled down the side of his face. “Yeah. Sure. Fine. Great.”

“Care if I strip down?” Mike unfastened the button of his jeans and raised his eyebrows, a half grin tipping up one side of his mouth.

Ash felt his head swing side to side as if of its own volition.

The jeans fell down Mike’s strong, sturdy, tree trunk sized legs, and he stood before Ash in a pair of white briefs that stretched across the length of his erection.

“I’m a bit of an exhibitionist,” Mike admitted with an adorable blush and a shrug. “So I get kind of turned on when I strip in front of someone.”

Holy fucking shit, he’s beautiful. Ash swallowed past a lump of lust in his throat and heard himself say, “I get turned on when you strip in front of me, too.”

 “Yeah?” Mike’s eyes dropped to the bulge in Ash’s jeans. “Prove it.”

Two balls of sweat raced down the side of Ash’s face as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt (why the fuck did he wear a fucking button down shirt to the fucking library?) until he finally peeled it off to expose his own smooth and firm chest. He kicked off his shoes and then pushed down his jeans to stand before Mike Sutton (Mike fucking hot Sutton!) in just his own bulging briefs and socks.

“You’re pretty hot, Ash,” Mike said and reached down to clutch his erection through his briefs. “Hotter than I’ve thought.”

“You—You’ve thought about me?” Ash asked.

Mike’s expression turned serious and he stepped toward Ash. “How about we talk later? Right now, we need to better understand Advanced Biology.”

The touch of Mike’s lips sent tingles burning along hundreds of thousands of Ash’s nerve endings. He didn’t know if it was the kiss, the temperature of the dorm room, or both that made his head spin, but he didn’t care. He went willingly as Mike pulled him up against his tanned, muscular body. The brush of Mike’s chest hair raised gooseflesh on his sweat-damp skin, and the long timber of Mike’s cock ground against Ash’s, pushing a groan up from somewhere deep in his chest.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” Mike said between kisses.

“Me?” Ash managed to say.

“Oh yeah.” Mike pulled back and, holding Ash’s face between his large, warm palms, looked into his eyes. “I like quiet, mellow guys like you, with a tight, smooth body.” Another kiss and Mike’s hands slid beneath the waistband of Ash’s briefs to grab each of his ass cheeks and squeeze.

Moments later, their briefs were kicked aside and cocks sprang out toward each other, slapping together like swords. Ash wrapped fingers around Mike’s shaft and caught the man’s moan in an open-mouthed kiss. The cock (so fucking big!) pulsed in his hand as Ash stroked it, spreading the slick pre-cum down the shaft from the meaty head.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Mike said and took Ash’s dick in his big hand.

They kissed and stroked each other for a bit, until Ash felt himself getting close and pulled his hips back so his cock slipped from Mike’s hand. He kissed the man again, then got on his knees, trying not to think (this is Mike-fucking-Sutton I’m about to suck!) as he opened wide and put his mouth around Mike’s cock. The salty tang of sweat and the sharp zest of pre-cum burst across his tongue like fireworks.

“Oh, yes,” Mike said after a gasp. “Fuck yeah, suck my cock.”

Ash closed his eyes and followed orders. He wrapped one hand around the base of Mike’s shaft and tugged on his balls (he fucking shaves his balls, oh my God, I’m about to come myself!) as he sucked him hard and fast. Mike leaned back, hands fisted by his tight, muscular thighs and sweat running down his chest.

“I’m close, but not yet,” Mike gasped. “Ash, stop.”

Reluctantly, Ash slowed down and then let the rock hard prick fall from between his bruised lips. He looked up along Mike’s body and met his intense green-eyed gaze.

“I want to suck you,” Mike said and reached down to grab Ash beneath his arms, fingers digging into the damp hollows of his armpits as he pulled him to his feet. “Over here, on my bed.”

Mike pulled down the sheets of the bed beneath the concert and sports posters (no big breasted bikini wearing women for him) and stretched out on his side. “Let’s sixty-nine.”

Ash took a moment to drink in the sight of the man: all six-foot-five inches (had to be) of varsity baseball muscle, with size eleven (at least!) feet and a dick to match.

“You lay with your face by my dick and we’ll suck each other,” Mike explained, obviously taking Ash’s hesitation for naivete about what was involved in the position he had suggested.

“Yeah, I know about the position,” Ash said. “I was just looking at you for a moment.”

“Look later,” Mike said and reached down to stroke the long, hard length of his dick. “I’m ready to blow.”

That was all Ash needed to hear. He lay on his side with his feet under Mike’s pillow (Mike sleeps on that pillow and my feet are under it!) and again put his mouth over the hard, hot slab of meat. Mike grabbed Ash’s dick at the root and took his whole length in one swallow. A burst of light seemed to explode behind Ash’s eyelids and his body bucked at the damp, tight heat of Mike’s mouth on him.

Ash had had his cock sucked once before, but not like this. Back home, behind the single screen movie theater in his one-flashing-stoplight town, he and Gary White had one night exchanged blow jobs. Gary’s technique had been much different (worse, it had been a lot worse) than Mike’s, and now Ash understood what the big deal was when other guys talked about blow jobs.

And the best part was, Mike Sutton’s cock didn’t taste like Old Spice aftershave like Gary’s had. Ash still didn’t know what that was about, and he really didn’t care.

The slurp and stroke of their shared sucking brought each of them to a quick climax. Ash was the first to go, feeling the familiar spark and tingle start deep in his gut and then zip up the length of his dick. He huffed out a breath and grunted a warning, thinking Mike would take him out of his mouth. But the man surprised him by clamping his lips tighter around the shaft and taking his cock deep into his throat.

Ash thought he heard the wet pop of his first shot even though his cock was buried deep in Mike’s throat. As Mike nursed the cum from his cock, Ash sucked Mike’s prick harder, hungrier. A deep, animal grunt was the only warning he had before Mike’s dick bucked against his tongue and then his mouth was filled with hot, thick cum. Ash savored the biting taste of it, swirled it around Mike’s cock where it laid hard and hot along his tongue, then let it slide down his throat.

Like oysters, only better because it’s fucking gorgeous Mike Sutton’s cum!

Mike sat up, his amazing abs tightening as he reached to pull Ash toward him for a cum-swapping kiss.

“I knew you’d be hot in bed,” Mike said.

“To be honest, I never thought I would be,” Ash replied.

Mike raised an eyebrow and Ash’s cock twitched.

“You haven’t been with a man before?” Mike asked.

Ash shrugged and, feeling himself blush, looked down to where his hand rested on Mike’s thigh, amazed at how casual he was lying here nude with the man. “I gave and received a blow job before with a guy back home, but that’s all.”

Mike leaned in for another kiss and whispered in his ear, “Baby, you are so going to ace Advanced Biology.”


Whew! I hope you enjoyed today's walk down Memory Lane! Come back next week when Jade posts a little something something for your pleasure! Enjoy your Monday, Memorial Day or not, and I'll be seeing you!

Monday, May 13, 2013

Confessions of my love affair...

I admit...I've got a problem. I'm talking about my obsession and sworn allegiance to...

No...I'm not ending sentences on a cliffhanger to make you continue reading...*giggles* The answer was in the sentence above...let's recap... 
I'm talking about my obsession and sworn allegiance to...
Yeah...those damn ellipses...they can tie me up and lick me down and redden my assets and I'll still come back and ask for more...*heads desk*

Now I've gotten some slack for the way I type...some *waves hand in air* shall we say negative feedback? Why must I use ellipses...or dashes (any kind of dash—I'm an equal opportunity dasher baby) while I'm simply chit chatting...why do I do so many stage directions *gasps* while I am typing? Why...why—why *heads desk giggling*

Because...I like it like that...ha!

Well that...and the fact that I'm Italian and if you ever meet me in person you will see I'm huge on talking with my hands. While I'm driving I have to constantly be reminded that hands belong on the steering wheel—not waving and splaying and air spanking...evidently that is bad...lmao

But when I'm typing—whether it is here on a blog...or on Facebook (and oh boy am I addicted to that place *face palm*)...or chatting with friends—I'm always using ellipses, dashes and stage directions. It's a way for me to express my personality through simple words...a way to show you that I'm pausing for dramatic effect (I do love being melodramatic...trust me on this one...lol) or to allow my mind to split off on different tangents while still staying in the same conversation (a personal fave of mine too...my daddy used to say that talking to me was like watching words shoot out of my mouth and having to string them together to keep up with my thought process *innocent smile*) and evidently I'll add parenthesis to my growing love affair...*heads desk giggling* 


Now...do I allow this to run on over into my professional writing? Hmmm...sure, to a certain extent. I know I have to be careful of my ellipse and dash usage in my WIPs...otherwise my editor will have a thing or two to say to me...hehe...so I think I overcompensate with commas...

I will go on record right now as saying I do NOT have a love affair with commas...it's more of a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am type of relationship only when I'm writing...as soon as the editing starts they storm off all huffy puffy with plans to ravage me again when a new WIP crosses my mind...those sneaky little freakers...hehe

Now...for anyone who knows me (and at least partially loves/likes me...*eye roll*) they know that my true master...the one that can really make me kneel and beg for it...is ellipses...

*rereads blog post and sighs* and evidently I'm not gonna get over this affair anytime soon...*winks and giggles*



This was previously published on the braZen authors blogsite last year. But I really really like this blog and wanted to share again...hehe *winks*




Monday, May 6, 2013

Story Orgy Monday

Whoo Hoo! It's my week for the Story Orgy blogpost! I'm totally stoked. I can't wait to begin my writing again. I just recently completed my capstone class for my MBA and couldn't be happier. Now I can spend more time on all my unfinished projects. The following story came to me as I was trying to figure out a way to promote my new song. So, I hope you enjoy the short story as well as my song if you decide to purchase it. You can buy the single for only .99 cents. Here we go. Let's try something new.


A Song for the Soul

Trevor punched Terry right in the gut, leaving his ex on the floor trying to catch his breath. "Just get the fuck out of my house and don't come back until I have your stuff ready for you to pick up."

Terry struggled to a stand with his hand on this chest. "Fine. You've made your point. But, can I at least get a few of my things now? Like my toothbrush? That'd be nice don't you think?"

Trevor pointed down the hallway to the bathroom while throwing an empty beer carton at Terry." Here, put your bathroom stuff in here and take my duffle bag for some clothes. Just hurry the fuck up. I'm sick of seeing your face. What you did to me makes my stomach turn and my skin crawl. You disgust me, asshole."

Terry tossed the beer box across the room. "You're duffle bag is all I need. Calm down. I'm going, I'm going."

"Calm down? You're asking me to calm down. You fucked another dude after you said I was your only one! You said you loved me. You're just a player. No, you're not even good enough to be a player. You're just a liar. A fucking dumbass liar at that."

Terry scrambled about, collecting the things he'll need for at least a few days.

"Hurry your sorry ass up. You'll be fine. You're going to your momma's house anyway." Trevor stomped across the room to the wet bar and made him a martini. He couldn't help but shake his head, fighting back the tears. Don't cry. Don't cry. Trevor did his best to hold onto his anger. The last thing he wanted was for Terry to see him cry. Trevor's heart was broken, but he knew he couldn't allow himself to feel that way. He had to be strong. Trevor thought about the song Terry had written and made for him. Trevor had the song on his MP3 as well as his laptop and PC.

Trevor did his best to ignore his thoughts of taking him back. "No, I can't do that. Never will I allow myself to be anything less than my partner. My partner will be equal," Trevor mumbled to himself as he plugged in his laptop and sat on the sofa.

"What was that?" Terry called from the back of the house.

"Just talking to myself. Just get your shit and go." Trevor yelled back.

As Trevor began to play the song Terry had made for him, his heart melted, leaving him with the pain he'd tried so hard to hide. Tears rolled down his cheek as the song played discretely in his ear buds. Damnit. I knew I shouldn't have played that song. 

Trevor caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of his eye. He quickly swiped the tears from his face and turned. "What? You're not gone yet?"

"I'm on my way out. I just wanted to let your know that I still care for you and love you deeply. I accept my mistake and respect your decision. But, it will be a long time before I'm over you. It may not seem like it now, but you're the best thing that had every happened to me." Terry continued his spiel.

As soon as Trevor could get a word in, he said, "Terry. Sit." He firmly slapped the cushion next to him. "We've been together for how long?"

"Six years." Terry said with a smile. "And, by the way, that bit about me cheating on you. That was never true. First, I wanted to distract you. I know. It could've been with better taste. But, that's beside the point. We're as good now as we ever were." Terry pushed the button on the stereo remote and set the surround sound.

As soon as the tune filled the room, Trevor let the tears fall. "You do love me. You really do."

"Come on in guys!" Terry called.

A group of friends came in through the back door, "Happy Anniversary!"

Trevor buried his face into Terry's shoulder, wiping his tears on Terry's shirt. "I don't know what to say."

"Well, I know what I want to say. I love you and there's not a single soul I want to be connected to and that's yours." Terry turned up the song and started singing it, as if serenading.

The crowd sang along and Trevor gave Terry a passionate kiss and said he was sorry for even believing such rubbish. Trevor rubbed Terry's belly and said, "Are you okay. I hit you pretty hard."

"I'll survive. Now, let's dance. After all, this is your song."

Trevor reached his arms around Terry, stood, and swayed slowly to the music. Trevor whispered, "I love you too."

*****

Thank you all for taking the time to read this. By the way, there is really a song that was written by me and dedicated to Nicholas. The song is being sold under my real name James Boyd. If you're interested in hearing the song and supporting my expenses to have it mastered, the links are below. 



My song is the 11th song on the album titled Lonely Miles. The name of the song is My Soul's Song. It was written about my love for Nicholas. The song is only .99 cents and any purchases would be most encouraging and thoughtful; Ratings would also be a nice feature. Thank you.  

Here are the links:

Monday, April 29, 2013

My Turn Again?...

Good morning! Grab your coffee and come on in, sit a spell. I've started a new project, something a little bit different for me, and well. Since you're here, I thought maybe you'd like a little advance sneak peek at it.


Not going to shilly-shally around much either, because, I"m kind of anxious to get back into it, you know? 
This Dan Skinner photo is part of the inspiration for this piece....



Every Note
Chapter One
Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine was Casey Addison's favorite book. It had held that place of honor since a sophomore English teacher made it assigned reading to her sixth period advanced placement class. In the twenty years since he'd read it the first time, he'd never been without a copy, some battered thrift store finds, others hard-backed and leather bound. He'd worn out more copies of Dandelion Wine than Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven. He'd even traveled to California to have a copy signed at the Long Beach Festival of books by the great man himself. The novel was an unusual choice, but the single scene that cemented it forever in Casey's memory was a short passage in which the main character realized he was alive.
Casey revered that scene because he could pinpoint the exact moment in his own life when he realized he was alive. It wasn't anything so poetically prosaic as picking grapes on a beautiful summer day. It wasn't anything special at all, just another new school in another new town that his parents had moved them all to. Then again, it was the exact moment he realized he was gay, and in love.
He'd walked into yet another new classroom in yet another new school, and his eyes landed on another boy, and for the first time ever Casey realized that air rushed through his nostrils to his lungs. Before that moment he'd breathed. Presumably for the prior twelve years of his life he'd done his small part to keep the balance between oxygen and carbon dioxide stable.
But for the first time his breath caught in his throat and he was forced to actually think about what had always been an involuntary action before.
Not only that, but he became aware of a thundering beat in his ears that had all the rhythm and twice the speed of his favorite drummer of all time, Neil Peart. Later he realized that pounding beat was his heart racing, just as the strange roar in his ears wasn't a crowd at a concert but his blood stinging its way through his veins to make his skin prickle and his arm hair stand on end.
Worst of all, his pecker just stood right up and poked at the front of his board shorts like God and everybody wasn't standing there eyeing him with all the disdain a class full of strangers could muster.
Embarrassed, he flung himself into the first available seat, and trained his gaze steadily on the white board at the front of the room. Even the rambling lines of purple ink weren't enough to vanquish the image of the boy who'd caused his world to spin on its axis. Over long white blond hair, golden tan skin, gold tipped thick lashes fringing vibrant green eyes…that image lurked in his thirteen year old mind with as much intensity as though they stood nose to nose.
Meeting Dylan Salisbury had been the changing point in his life. He'd become alive in that moment. Forever after he might forget sometimes that he breathed, but never in Dylan's presence. 

Thanks for reading! Check back next week when I am not really sure who will be here, but some Story Orgiasts will be popping by with a bit of something to wet your appetite! 

Monday, April 22, 2013

Ebook Trailers

Hello everybody.
I hope you're having a fabulous Monday...
Somebody told me  (Jade - yea, I had to say my name, I mean how you would have known it was me otherwise, right?) it was my turn to find something to post. And I must confess that my mind went totaly blank when I heard it. My turn? You're sure? But...but I didn't think about anything!!!
So I looked at the past posts, trying to find an idea... yes, you see my problem now, don't you? The Story Orgy members were promoting their books... because they are writers... logical, right? But me? I'm not a writer, and I don't have anything to promote.
*Sighs*
Then, I found it! I was going to promote them! But I had to find a special way to do it.
After more time spending to think about it, I decided to make trailers for their latest releases.
So there... Hope you'll like them. I put all the love I have for my SO family in them, and I certainly hope it will show.
Unfortunatly, I can't post the vids here (don't ask me why, I'm stupid in front of this "technology") so I'll post the links. You'll just have to follow them...
 
 

Monday, April 15, 2013

Oooh, it's my turn? Okay! How about a contest??

Hi everyone, Em here! Sorry this is coming to you so late on Monday, but better late than never, right? And what can I do to make it up to you? How about....give you the goods on my next release and offer a contest??

Sound good? Great!

Well, here's the scoop! I have a new release coming out (it's up for pre-order right now at TEB: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?P_ID=2081)...wanna know more? Here you go:




'Flowers for Him' by Marie Sexton and Rowan Speedwell

He wanted to learn about beauty. He never expected to learn about love.

Billionaire Chandler Harrison’s third marriage is now history, and he’s left with his ex-wife’s parting barb, "You have no appreciation of beauty." Determined to prove her wrong, Chandler hires artist Neil Sweeney to add a mural to his office wall. He doesn’t even care what the picture is, as long as it’s beautiful.

Neil Sweeney is an ex-tagger, a free spirit, and a bit of a hippie. He’s never met anybody as uptight as Chandler, but when it comes to warming up Chandler’s cold, stark office, Neil has plans involving more than art.

Chandler begins to find himself strangely moved by the mural developing on his office wall. He’s especially moved by the artist himself. Chandler has denied his homosexual urges for most of his life, but it isn’t long before Neil begins introducing Chandler to all kinds of new things. As Neil’s masterpiece comes to life, so does Chandler’s appreciation for art, colour, and the best kind of beauty of all—love.

'Vital To Him' by SL Majors

Hot sex in the back of a limo? Billionaire Brenton Marston is stunned when his street-wise chauffeur welcomes him home in a way he never expected, and Brenton wonders who is really in the driver’s seat.

No fraternising…

Billionaire Brenton Marston has rules meant to keep the boundaries clear. He respects his employees and never wants anyone to feel as if they owe him anything.

Robert Silles, the reformed hoodlum, has desired his boss for years. Robert has fantasised about introducing Mr Marston to the pleasures of man-on-man sex, fucking him and sucking him until he forgets his numerous stresses.

When his trusted chauffeur suggests a hook-up, Brenton is stunned, but he knows he shouldn’t be. No one knows him better than the man who’s seen him at his best as well as his worst.

It shouldn’t surprise him that Silles knows him and his innermost secrets. In fact, Silles recognised the truth before Brenton ever did.

Silles’ suggestive offer turns Brenton on. Damn if he isn’t attracted to this broad, handsome, sexy man, in a way he never wanted anyone else.

The question is, will Brenton push aside his inhibitions and reservations? Will he allow his chauffeur to give him what he craves? Will he willingly surrender to the orders of his servant?

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of M/M, rimming, anal sex, spanking with leather belt and hand and sex outdoors

'Fly to Him' by J.P. Bowie

A young flight attendant gets a billionaire’s attention in a way that could have meant the end of his career, but instead could be the beginning of an unexpected romance.

When Kevin Tate takes over for a friend as flight attendant on billionaire Logan Maguire’s private jet, he is certain it will be his one and only time aboard when he accidentally dumps an ice-cold drink on his employer’s lap. Instead, an instant attraction flares between the two men and Kevin accepts Logan’s offer to stay with him at his villa in Puerta Vallarta.

Their fledging romance is abruptly brought to an end when Logan hurries back to the States on a desperate mission to save his company from a hostile takeover. Kevin is left wondering if success and wealth is more important to the billionaire than the chance of love and real happiness.

'Enough For Him' by Em Woods

When secrets come to light, two men must realise that, despite their fears, the love they have really is enough.

When software mogul Shannon Murphy is requested to appear at an international convention to accept an innovation award, he’s honoured. But when the invitation arrives and requires the attendance of his fictional partner, he needs a plan. There is only one man he wants, one man he trusts, to help him. He turns to personal assistant and best friend Noah Greene.

Noah isn’t sure if this is his most secret desire come true, or his worst nightmare. Once the media connects them in a relationship, no secret will be safe, and Noah is positive that Shannon won’t be comfortable in the reflected spotlight of a recovering gambling addict. Unable to turn away his friend, Noah decides to do this one favour for Shannon before sacrificing everything he’s worked so hard to build and walking away.

'Surrendered To Him' by Sara York

When the storm hits, everything changes. Will shifting priorities lead to a shift in life, or will Storm Bennett abandon his heart's desires?

Storm rules the Bennett Empire with an iron fist, never taking time to allow emotions into his life, leaving him looking like the bad guy in the media over and over again. When a typhoon hits the island where one of his hotels is located, he sees it as a chance to repair his damaged reputation.

On the island, nothing is as it should be. Storm meets Keoni, a native, who challenges everything Storm knows about relationships, family and love. Keoni is blown away by Storm but wants the man so badly he can taste it.

Can he risk his newfound peace, giving a part of himself to Storm, or will he stay detached, allowing love to slip away?


'Designs For Him' by Noelle Keaton

Normally all business when it comes to his career, Jon finds the lines between the professional and the personal getting blurred after falling in love with billionaire CEO Warren

After months of unemployment, Jon Pritchard finds work with Cressen Furniture, the 'American Ikea', in a low-level job. A software program he creates in his free time attracts the interest of Warren Cressen, the interim CEO of Cressen Furniture, who quickly gives Jon a promotion.

The attraction between the two men is undeniable, and it isn’t long before they act on it, though they agree to be discreet until Warren’s position as CEO is made permanent.

Their relationship grows serious, but it is tested when evidence is discovered that seems to point to Jon being a corporate spy and Warren starts to wonder if he hasn't been used all along.

With the highest professional stakes on the line, Jon and Warren have to decide whether the professional success they share in the boardroom is worth sacrificing the passion they share in the bedroom.

***

What do you think? Leave a comment between now and Sunday 4/21 about what you do if promoted by a billionaire to be entered to win your own copy of this kickin' anthology! Winner will be announced next Monday. :)


Monday, April 8, 2013

Roughing It


Hi everyone. Hank Edwards here, bringing you some fun and heat to help get you through Monday. I'm currently camped out in front of the TV with the laptop, watching "Hope Springs," the movie with Meryl Streep and Tommy Lee Jones and Steve Carrell. If you haven't seen it, I recommend it. It's all about Meryl and Tommy Lee, a couple married for 31 years, who visit an intensive couples therapist to try and recover the intimacy in their marriage.

The movie got me thinking about how lucky I am to have a partner I have fun with, someone I'm in love with, and who makes me feel like the most important person in the world.


And it also made me think about my hard headed, and hard loving, mystery solving couple, FBI agent Aaron Pearce and former station chef / cater cook Mark Beecher. The guys are coming back for a third adventure, something sure to rev your engines and get your heart racing. Sex, suspense, and danger in a tropical locale. Get ready for the third book of the newly named Up to Trouble series, Roughed Up, available from Loose Id on May 7. Read some of the first chapter below, and be sure to mark your calendars!

Roughed Up

Up to Trouble 3


By Hank Edwards

Chapter One

The sand felt good beneath Mark’s head. The cool, fine grains provided a stark contrast to the scratch of Pearce’s stubble that pleasantly scraped Mark’s lips as they kissed. Soft, persistent waves rolled up on the beach several yards away, and somewhere even farther off—back at the hotel bar, most likely—a woman’s loud, drunken laugh floated on the breeze. An hour ago they had watched the sun set from a small table in the hotel bar while eating shrimp and downing drink specials. Finally Pearce had suggested a moonlit walk on the beach, and Mark had happily agreed.

“You taste like mango,” Pearce said between kisses.

“Those margaritas you kept pushing on me,” Mark replied.

“I seem to remember you placing those orders,” Pearce murmured, then pushed his tongue into Mark’s mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. He pressed a wide, warm palm against Mark’s erection, still trapped within his board shorts, and they moaned together.

Pearce ducked his head to put his lips right next to Mark’s ear and whispered, “Want you.” He followed that up by corkscrewing his tongue into the sensitive canal.

“Me too,” Mark said around a gasp. “God, I love when you do that.”

Pearce slipped his hand up the leg of Mark’s shorts to grope his balls and his throbbing, needy cock.
Mark pulled away and smiled in nervous surprise at Pearce before turning to look up and down the beach. “You want to do it here?”

Pearce looked around the beach as well, then grinned like a mischievous college frat boy when he met Mark’s gaze again. “There’s no one around. Besides, we’re on an island vacation; it’s a rule that we have to have sex on the beach at some point.”

“Oh, is that a rule?” Mark chuckled. “I guess I missed hearing that when we checked in.”

“I definitely heard it.” Pearce kissed him. “I think the woman said it two times at least.” Another kiss.
“In different positions.”

Mark felt a little light-headed, mostly from the mango margaritas he’d drunk at the hotel bar, but also from the persuasion of Pearce’s kisses. Goddamn, but Pearce could kiss. He found a shred of resistance left and pulled back to say, “You know Barbados has strict laws against homosexual acts.”

“Yeah?” Pearce grumbled. “So did my prom date’s brother, but he blew me behind the school.”

Mark shook his head. “What does that have to do with anything we’re discussing?”

“God, you’re so wet,” Pearce whispered, smearing the precum around the head of Mark’s cock with his index finger, his lips just brushing Mark’s. “Let’s flip-flop right here. You fuck me, and then I’ll fuck you.” Another kiss, stronger, hungrier. “I want your cock in my ass. I want to feel your cum drip down my thigh while we walk back to the room.”

Mark’s cock jumped in Pearce’s fist at the image he planted in his head.

“You’re killing me,” he said.

“Come on. It’s our first vacation together.”

Mark smiled up at him. “You mean your trip to Detroit at the beginning of the year wasn’t a vacation?”
Pearce pulled his hand from Mark’s shorts, grabbed him by the shoulder, and rolled them both over so Mark now lay on top.

“No,” Pearce said and held Mark’s head between his hands, eyes shifting as he studied Mark’s face. “I think it was fate.”

Fuck. Pearce really knew how to get to him. When the man said romantic things like that, Mark melted. And Pearce knew it, the bastard.

“You are such a liar,” Mark said and kissed him hard.

“Not at all,” Pearce managed before their tongues tangled together.

Pearce lifted his hips and reached down to slide off his shorts. He hadn’t worn underwear since they’d arrived—neither of them had—and the hot, solid length of his cock pressed against Mark’s hip. Mark reached down to take hold of it, squeezed it, and then lifted his hips so Pearce could slip off his shorts as well.

The ocean breeze on his bare ass excited Mark, but he was still nervous and broke their kiss to rise up and peer each way along the beach. No one in sight. Did people on Barbados just sit in bars and drink at night? No one walked the beach?

“And you claimed you’d never had sex in public before.” Pearce stroked Mark’s cock. “You’re hard as rock.”

“You’re a bad influence.”

Pearce grinned up at him before unbuttoning Mark’s camp shirt. “Bet you say that to all the FBI agents you fuck.”

Mark shrugged out of his shirt, then lowered his head to take Pearce’s dick between his lips. His familiar taste—a mix of sweat, soap, and that special spice that was uniquely Aaron Pearce—surged along his tongue. Mark paused, his mouth filled with Pearce’s cock and the ocean breeze trailing over his bare skin. The waves continued their sonorous rolls, and the quiet strains of a reggae band floated from somewhere down the beach.

Like the preview? Click on over to my author page at Loose Id on May 7 and grab a copy for yourself.