Showing posts with label Multiple Partners. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Multiple Partners. Show all posts

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Various Intentions (Persuasions #3) by AE Lister


 

Various Intentions by AE Lister

Book 3 in the Persuasions series

Word Count:  57,484
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 240

Genres:

BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
TRANSGENDER

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Book Description

 

When best-laid-plans fall apart, all you can do is pick up the pieces—and host a gallery exhibit.

Nic Walker and Vincent Blake lead charmed lives—or so thinks their neglected friend Juno. But when Juno’s plans come crumbling down, it’s their boyfriend Charles who reaches out to get Nic to help. Nic, Vincent, Matteo and even Taylor are there with solid plans for assistance, including an emergency art exhibit called Electric Dreams.

Amid an unexpected revelation about Matteo’s past, a surprising romantic development in Daphne’s life and a personal challenge of Nic’s, the gang comes together to help their friends and demonstrate what real loyalty looks like. Nobody ever said life was easy, but sometimes a challenge can bring out the best in people—and remind you of the true meaning of friendship.

Reader advisory: This book contains public nudity. It is best read as book three in a series.

Excerpt

Staking out your pseudo-child on their last day of exams for their final year in high school was a parental right-of-passage. And if it wasn’t, it should have been.

“Has he texted you?” I asked Vincent, as we waited in the car for Taylor to emerge from the red brick building.

“Not yet,” Vincent said, leaning forward to keep an eye out. “He was planning to catch the bus home, so I want to make sure we don’t miss him.”

“There he is,” Matteo said with composure from the back seat.

Taylor had burst forth from the double doors of the alternative secondary school and bent down to tie his shoe, his puffy blue jacket unzipped.

“I can’t believe he wears runners in winter,” I said. “He’s going to fall and break his little neck.”

I reached past Vincent and slammed the middle of the steering wheel, causing the horn to blast and Taylor to spasm and glare at the source of the alarming sound.

Vincent had lowered the window and now leaned his head out. “That was Nic. Blame him.”

Taylor made a gesture of resignation as he stood and ambled to the car. “What are you doing here?”

“Why aren’t you wearing boots?” I asked. He ignored me.

Matteo leaned forward from the back seat. “It’s your last high school exam, Taylor. We’re taking you out for supper.”

I leaned over Vincent, ignoring his long-suffering expression. “We have reservations at Moxies. Not super fancy, I know, but the servers are hot and I know you—”

“Yes! I love Moxies!” Taylor pumped the air and opened the back door of the car, passing his backpack to Matteo then sliding in beside my other romantic partner. “Hi, Dad. I mean, Dads.”

“I’m not your dad,” Vincent said, starting the engine and pulling into the road. Vincent was Taylor’s cousin and my live-in boyfriend. Matteo had insinuated himself into the relationship just after Taylor had joined the household to escape his uber-religious parents.

“You act like my dad. And it’s just easier to call all three of you ‘Dad’.”

“Fine.” Vincent shrugged. “Whatever.”

“But who’s your Daddy, Taylor?” I said, waggling my brows. Taylor and I had a weird relationship.

“Ew, gross.”

I smirked at him. “You used to be intrigued by me and what I got up to with the other dads in private. What happened?”

He made a face. “I got a glimpse of the reality. God, I almost threw up in my mouth just now, thinking about it.”

“Careful,” I said.

“Why? You gonna punish me?”

“I’m sure I can think of something not sex-related to make you watch your tongue, brat.”

“Matteo, Nic is being mean to me,” Taylor said, opening a bottle of water he’d pulled from his bag and tipping it to his lips.

“Don’t bring me into this,” Matteo sighed.

“You’re in this car, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and I’m starting to wish I wasn’t.”

“Nice. That’s really nice. Don’t you want to wish me a happy graduation?” Taylor said, snuggling into Matteo, who put an arm around him and kissed the top of his head.

“Of course. Happy graduation, Taylor.”

“That’s assuming you passed the exam,” I pointed out.

Taylor narrowed his eyes at me in the rearview mirror. “I passed. You think I want to spend another minute in high school? I’m already finishing six months late.”

Vincent glanced at his younger cousin in the back seat. “You’ve worked hard, and you should be proud of yourself.”

Taylor blushed and smiled shyly. “Oh, pish. You know, I don’t want to live with you all forever.”

I put a hand to my heart. “Taylor, you wound me.”

“No offense, but I’d like to move out on my own at some point. Not yet, though.”

“Of course. But you’d better plan to come for dinner with your dads once a week, at least,” I muttered. I’d been the last person to think I’d want a teenager in the house, and now I couldn’t imagine our lives without Taylor.

Taylor cuddled up next to Matteo and kissed his cheek. “For Matteo’s cooking? You bet. Even if Vincent cooks. But if Nic cooks…”

“Watch yourself, little one.” I laughed, because he was right about my failed attempts at putting together appealing meals, on the rare occasions I’d tried. Most days Matteo cooked dinner, and if he couldn’t, Vincent or Taylor did. I was last on the list for a reason.

Matteo had come to us when Vincent had injured his hand, and Daphne had suggested someone to help with the cooking and domestic duties. We’d then invited Matteo into our bedroom and things had progressed from there. Now the three of us were in a committed poly relationship with Taylor to look after, and I’d never been happier.

“Oh please, you’ve been threatening to give me a spanking since I moved in. But I think you’re worried you’d like it too much.”

“Taylor,” Vincent warned.

“There are many different ways I can make your life miserable, Taylor. Don’t tempt me.”

Verbally sparring with Taylor had become a daily diversion, and I’d miss it when he finally did move out.

Moxie’s had a booth waiting for us. We took off our winter jackets and hung them on the nearby hook. Just before Vincent slid onto the bench, I nudged him in the ribs. “Hey, remember what we did in the bathroom the last time we were here?”

As I’d expected, a blush rose in his cheeks, and he glanced at the others to see if they’d heard. Matteo avoided his gaze while fighting a smile, and, to my amusement, Taylor looked shocked.

He leaned over the table, his eyebrows raised. “A public bathroom?”

I shrugged. “We were alone for most of it.”

Most of it?” Taylor sputtered and sat down, shaking his head. “God, you guys are turning me into a prude. I’m the one who’s supposed to be fucking people in bathrooms. I’m eighteen and horny and—”

“I didn’t fuck Vincent in the bathroom,” I said calmly.

“Oh. Okay,” Taylor said. “Good.”

He pretended to focus on the menu, but he kept glancing up at us, and I knew it was killing him to pretend he wasn’t curious as hell.

“Can we order, please?” Vincent said, with some embarrassment.

I scanned the menu. “Of course. I’m going to order extra aioli with whatever I’m getting—because there’s two of you, now.” I winked at Matteo.

Taylor stood up. “I’m going to the bathroom.” He pointed a finger at me. “You stay where you are.”

Matteo and Vincent glared at me while Taylor headed for the men’s room.

“What?”

“This is supposed to be a celebration of Taylor finishing his high school credits,” Matteo said gently. “Not a confessional for all the kinky things you’ve done to Vincent.”

I shrugged. “I mean, all the kinky—”

Matteo pushed his knife forward slightly. “But please do share the details with me later.”

“Oh, God,” Vincent moaned, covering his face.

I finger-gunned Matteo. “You got it.”

When Taylor came back, I apologized and offered to have his guitar restrung as penance.

“Don’t be dumb. It’s fine.” Taylor nodded at Vincent. “It’s kind of worth my own cringe to see Vincent so embarrassed, when I know the kinky bastard was fully on board with whatever happened.”

“Oh, and, Taylor?”

“Yeah?”

I pointed out of the window. “See that silver Honda?”

Taylor focused on the car that sparkled in the late evening sunshine. “Yeah?”

“That’s your real graduation present.”

“Oh, that’s hilarious,” Taylor said, turning back as Matteo placed a Honda fob on a rainbow key ring onto the table in front of him.

He looked at it and scooped it up in his fingers. “What the fuck is this? Is this some kind of a joke? I’m going to kill you guys.”

“It’s not a joke,” Vincent said.

“The car’s yours,” I confirmed, sitting up straighter. “It’s a couple of years old, but there’s barely any mileage on it. Vincent had it detailed so it’s shiny and clean, inside and out, although it won’t stay that way with all the winter slush on the roads.”

Taylor stared at the fob in his hand. Then he looked at the car through the window. Then he looked at me with shining eyes and a tremulous lip.

“Really?” he whispered, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Matteo put an arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. “You deserve it. You’ve worked hard and you’ve helped out at the house, too. You’re almost as good a cook as me, now.”

Taylor stared at the Honda device for another few seconds. “Oh my God. What! A car? A car!” He slid out of the booth and started leafing through the coats for his jacket. “I want to see it!”

“I’ll take you,” Vincent said. “Nic, can you please order for me? You know what I like.” He took his jacket from the hook and passed Taylor his.

“I certainly do. What do you want to eat, Taylor?”

“I don’t care. Order me anything,” he said, shoving his arms in the sleeves of his blue puffer jacket and racing out of the restaurant with Vincent on his trail.

“That was a success,” Matteo said, smiling and pretending to look over the menu, although we ate here so often that I was sure he already knew what he was going to order. “It was a good idea, Nic.”

“Honestly, having only my car between the four of us was becoming a problem, even though you don’t drive. Now that Taylor has his own, we don’t have to worry about not having a means of transportation while he’s out galivanting.”

We watched Taylor circle the car while Vincent pointed out certain things, then he opened the driver’s door and slid inside. Vincent leaned on the door, laughing and grinning. He glanced into the restaurant and gave us a thumbs-up.

“He’s worked so hard, and now he’s graduated high school. He’s got a job lined up and a plan to attend college in the fall. He’s a good kid, Matteo.” I put my chin in my hand. “I never thought I wanted to be a dad, but it seems to come naturally with Taylor.”

Matteo grinned. “It’s nice that we can split the responsibility three ways.”

“It is. Absolutely. I’m starting to think poly relationships should be the standard, especially in this economy.”

When Vincent brought Taylor back inside, the kid slid onto my lap and gave me the tightest hug, regardless of the audience. “Thank you so much, Nic. I love it. It’s perfect.”

He was rosy and cold from being outside. I hugged him back, then nudged him off.

“I’m glad you like it. You deserve it. But we have to sit down and go over some rules when we get home.”

“Sure. Okay.”

“And you need to give your other daddy a hug, because the car is from all of us.”

Taylor hung up his jacket again, slid into the booth beside Matteo and wrapped him in his arms. “Thank you, Favorite Dad. You are the best.”

Matteo chuckled, and I pretended not to hear the endearment. Matteo was probably Taylor’s favorite. He was just so ‘Dad-like’—forthright and steady—whereas Vincent and I were more scattered and impulsive.

Taylor worked hard to contain himself through the meal, because he was dying to drive his ‘new’ car. So we didn’t order dessert, and Vincent went with Taylor in the new car while I drove Matteo back to our place.

We beat them home and waited outside the front door for Taylor to pull in. When he got out of the driver’s side, he was beaming.

“So? How does it drive?” I asked.

“Like a fucking dream,” Taylor replied. “Thank you, guys, so much. It’s amazing.”

I wagged my finger at him. “No driving drunk or high. And you still have to be home by midnight if you’re not sleeping at Riley’s.”

“Fine.”

“And no texting while driving.”

“Duh.”

We went inside, and Matteo put on a pot of tea while Taylor phoned his boyfriend.

“Hello, babe,” Riley answered, on speaker.

“I got a fucking car for graduation!” Taylor yelled into the phone.

“What? No way!” Riley replied. “You lucky ass.”

Taylor laughed.

New car?” Riley said.

“Nah, second-hand. But almost new. A Honda Civic. Silver. Wait, I’ll show you.” Taylor got up and headed out of the door.

“Put on a jacket!” I said, as the door slammed behind him. I rolled my eyes. “Well, the car was a hit,” I said, leaning back on the sofa.

“Were you worried?” Vincent said with a smile.

“Not really. Cars are generally an impressive gift.”

My phone vibrated, and I fished it out of my pocket, knowing who it was by the tones of Sympathy for the Devil that invaded the silence.

“Hey, Daf. What’s up?” I said, bringing it to my ear.

“Did you give Sparky his car? What did he say? Was he surprised?”

“He was surprised. Didn’t expect it at all. He repeated himself a lot. It was cute.”

“Nice! I’m so glad he’s happy. He’s worked hard.”

“Yes, he has.”

“Look… I need you to meet me for coffee. Soon!”

I recognized a certain something in the tone of Daphne’s voice—the same something that had been there when she’d called to persuade me to meet this ‘cute as shit’ client of hers who’d turned out to be Vincent. “Why?”

“I can’t explain it over the phone.”

“Well, Jesus. That’s a first.” I snorted.

“Very funny. Can you meet me tomorrow?”

“Well, I have to work…”

“You get a lunch, don’t you?”

“But I have marking to do.”

“Oh, come on. I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Well, in that case.”

“I’ll come to your office. See you around noon.”

“Sure. See you. Bye.” There was no point arguing. I’d end up agreeing anyway.

Matteo brought in the tea and placed it on the coffee table.

“What did Daphne want?”

I stared at the phone, wondering that myself.

“Well, I’m not sure. Wanted to know how Taylor reacted to his gift. But she’s making me meet her for lunch tomorrow for some reason.”

Daphne was my longtime friend who worked as a professional Domme, had introduced me to Vincent and reamed out my ex-boyfriend after he’d started dicking me around. I loved her so much and would do anything for her, such as letting her set up a sex dungeon in my basement for almost a month the previous year.

Daphne had a flair for the dramatic and intense, even outside of her lucrative business.

Matteo, who had been a member of our rather unconventional relationship for a good eight months now, had gotten a promotion at his job. He was now a senior-level market researcher for a well-known software company. That kept him busy during the regular work week, but his evenings and weekends remained free so that he could come home, cook dinner for us and help with domestic chores.

Vincent, who had been a full-time domestic service person for me since we’d moved in together, received a regular wage on top of his room and board, as well as enjoyable bonuses from Matteo and me, so that we made quite the spectacular and functional family unit.

Taylor, who added to the overall atmosphere with his dry wit and explicit humor, had thrived under our admittedly neglectful care. He was a young adult now and disappeared most evenings into his room or went out with his boyfriend and other peers. But when he did grace us with his presence, he was respectful and cheerful, and I wondered how we had lived without him. We knew it was only a matter of time before he moved out on his own, or in with Riley, but now that he had his own car to take back and forth, he seemed content to keep things as they were, which made me happy in an unexpected way.

I’d never wanted children, but falling into a vague parenting schema with Taylor had been so natural and organic that it didn’t seem strange at all and fulfilled me in some obscure way. I tried not to second-guess it.

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About the Author

AE Lister

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published 10 books, one of which received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association – International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

“Sensual and visceral BDSM.” – Amazon.ca

Find out more about AE Lister at their website, and follow them on Instagram and Patreon.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Cock and Bull by Megan Slayer


 

Title: Cock & Bull

Author: Megan Slayer

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: July 16, 2022

Heat Level: 5 - Erotica

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 16 pages

Genre: Erotica, Gay, BDSM, Kindle Unlimited, Multiple Partners

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Synopsis

Warning: This is a Razor's Edge Monster Erotica Story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of paranormal heat. If you're looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

After two years as an exotic male dancer-slash-fetish entertainer, Flynn’s ready for his last night at the Randy Stallion Men’s Club to be over, but someone’s got a special surprise in store for him. More than one someone.

Can Flynn handle the heat, or will it burn him alive? Anything is possible in the club.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Megan Slayer

"You've got a customer."

Flynn stopped short, bumping into another dancer. "Customer?" He shifted his hips. The plug in his ass moved as well and rubbed against his prostate. Fuck. Wearing the damned toy all day just about killed him, but he'd do whatever the Master wanted.

Avery fisted his hands on his svelte hips. He cocked his head and set his jaw. "It's Saturday night, Bull Durham. Really. Don't tell me that toy up your ass made you forget, or are you thinking about what's gonna happen later on tonight?"

"I didn't think you could see it." Flynn's cheeks burned. He'd worn a G-string to disguise the toy lodged in his butt.

"It's hard not to see that huge red stone shining in your ass. Deryck's a lucky man. And yes, I check out your ass. It's a nice ass to look at. Sue me."

Gritting his teeth, Flynn pushed past Avery and marched to the hallway lined with private rooms. Yes, Avery was his friend and knew a lot about him, but double fuck. He'd rather be at home with Deryck than at the club. And anyway, what kind of stage name was Bull Durham? It was a movie, not a name for a stripper at a fetish club. Served him right for wearing the damn baseball cap when he applied for the job of exotic male dancer-slash-fetish entertainer. And what did he have to show for his exotic job? Some days, it felt like nothing at all.

The money was usually worth it, but not today. Deryck had said he had a surprise. Said Flynn needed to wear the plug all day. And who was Flynn to back down from one of Deryck's commands?

Flynn shivered. Deryck was the love of his life. As soon as he could quit the Randy Stallion Men's Club, Flynn would be outta there.

"Flynn?" Avery stopped beside him and waved his hand in front of Flynn's face. "You in there?"

Flynn nodded. He should've asked which room he needed to go to, but for the past two years he'd worked at the Stallion, he'd only ever used the last playroom -- Room 6 -- and only with select clients who didn't want something extra. Flynn growled. Since he'd hooked up with Deryck, he didn't play the field. He wasn't in the mood to dance for some drunk or a gaggle of women wanting to grope him. He wanted a particular set of hands on his body, ones with the power to bring him to his knees and make him come harder than ever before.

But Deryck was at home, probably up to his eyeballs in legal documents. The man worked way too hard for his money. One day they'd have a house, and Flynn would be home to do all the domestic things he loved while Deryck practiced law. Flynn shivered and bit back a groan.

Just thinking of Deryck in his tailored suit made Flynn rock-hard.

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Meet the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | BookBub

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: His Harem Collection by A.E. Lister & Samantha Cayto


 

Alternative Medicine by AE Lister

Room for Elijah by Samantha Cayto

His Harem Collection

How’s a guy to choose? Why should he have to! This hero is spoilt for choice – it’s a summer romance, multiplied.

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Alternative Medicine
Room for Elijah

Book Description

Alternative Medicine

Prescription—a weekend at the cottage and a willing twink to go. What else can Scott, Jericho and Pascal ask for?

Scott Vernier is overburdened with his job as a professor and the logistics of maintaining two residences—his own and the home he shares with Jericho and Pascal. Is it time to consider making the final commitment and moving in?

Jericho suggests a getaway, and the trio borrow a friend’s cottage for the Canada Day summer weekend. Being in a strange setting doesn’t subdue Dr. Griffin’s ability to attend to Scott’s medical needs in the slightest. Then they meet Gerome, a young server at a local restaurant. Gerome seems intrigued by the three older men and agrees to return to the cottage to see where the evening takes them.

Let’s just say they don’t wind up playing board games.

Reader advisory: This story features partner sharing, medical kink and cum play.

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Room for Elijah

There is always room for the right person.

Elijah has been forced to leave his home because of his homophobic family. He has arrived in Boston with the hopes of starting a new life. His first stop is a drag club. Intrigued by the art form, he wants to take a peek and look for work.

After leaving the military, Dermott opened Queens to celebrate his love of drag and Irish pubs. Two of his best performers, Rienk and Nico, pack his club and share his bed. Dermott gives the boys needed stability and love, and the three of them have formed an unconventional family.

Dermott is everything Elijah has ever fantasized about, although he does not expect the man to give him anything more than a job. He is already involved with two other beautiful and worldly boys. There is no room for a sheltered virgin like him.

Dermott and his harem were not looking for a new romantic entanglement. When an obviously lost, yet sweet, boy enters the club and their lives, each of them let Elijah know that they would welcome another boy into Dermott’s enormous bed and heart.

Giving his virginity to Dermott would be a dream come true for Elijah, and the other boys are becoming amazing friends. But trusting all three of these men with his heart may be more than Elijah can handle.

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About the Authors

AE Lister

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published 10 books, one of which received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association – International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

“Sensual and visceral BDSM.” – Amazon.ca

Find out more about AE Lister at their website, and follow them on Instagram and Facebook. You can join their Facebook group and find out more at their BDSM blog.

Samantha Cayto

Samantha Cayto is a Boston-area native who practices as a business lawyer by day while writing erotic romance at night—the steamier the better. She likes to push the envelope when it comes to writing about passion and is delighted other women agree that guy-on-guy sex is the hottest ever.

She lives a typical suburban life with her husband, three kids and four dogs. Her children don't understand why they can't read what she writes, but her husband is always willing to lend her a hand—and anything else—when she needs to choreograph a scene.

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.  

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Greedy Boy by M.C. Roth

Author M.C. Roth shares new release from Pride Publishing, Greedy Boy! Read more and enter in the First Romance gift card giveaway!
 

Greedy Boy by M.C. Roth

General Release Date: 14th June2022

Word Count: 68,622
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 257

Genres:

BILLIONAIRE
BISEXUAL
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS

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Book Description

After kissing his boss, a client and his roommate all in one day, Simon finds that his love life is about to heat up.

Getting a beautiful man to look Simon’s way is usually the hard part, but that’s before he breaks his own set of rules—his ‘off-limits’ list that keeps him sane and stable. In a single day, he kisses his boss, a client and his not-so-straight roommate.

Maybe Simon is a greedy boy who sees the best in them, but he can’t help but want all three of them in his heart and his bed. Yet beauty can be deceiving. One man betrays him, leaving him with the devil and the devil’s worst enemy. Simon’s first priority is keeping them from killing each other, but when lives are threatened and the city turns against him, it may become an impossible task.

 

Excerpt

The building probably had more light switches than any other in the city, but with night pushing against its windows, it was nearly pitch black except for the tiny bleak emergency lights spotted along the stark walls. Within the compartmentalized offices, a few computer screens buzzed, with their colorful screensavers bouncing along with dizzying monotony.

Simon could switch the lights on as he crept through the building, but then someone might look up from the street below and wonder what was going on.

The office building emptied at six o’clock sharp every day. One by one the light switches were flicked off, so the entire building went dark as people filed out at the end of their shift. The neighboring condos were bound to contain a few curious souls who would call the cops at the first sign of something out of the ordinary.

Which was something he didn’t wanted to risk when he wasn’t supposed to be in the office in the first place.

There were only a few company rules that he’d discovered since he’d started working in the grand building a few years before. The strictest of them all was that he was never allowed to work late. His boss had called it a perk. He probably hadn’t thought to warn Simon that the deserted halls looked like the inside of a haunted house after dark.

Not that I haven’t broken enough rules today.

The biggest rule should have been that he wasn’t allowed to kiss his boss. It should have been printed in giant gold letters at the top of his orientation papers, which he’d signed for human resources on day one. There had been the salary information, the confidentiality agreement and the listed restrictions to keep employees from stealing clients and going rogue.

There had been nothing about kissing.

Maybe he should have tried harder to pay attention to the sexual harassment video they’d made him watch that had been thirty years out of date? The boredom had been so complete that he had almost passed out in the tiny plastic folding chair.

The kiss hadn’t been his fault!

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About the Author

M.C. Roth

M.C. Roth lives in Canada and loves every season, even the dreaded Canadian winter. She graduated with honours from the Associate Diploma Program in Veterinary Technology at the University of Guelph before choosing a different career path.

Between caring for her young son, spending time with her husband, and feeding treats to her menagerie of animals, she still spends every spare second devoted to her passion for writing.

She loves growing peppers that are hot enough to make grown men cry, but she doesn’t like spicy food herself. Her favourite thing, other than writing of course, is to find a quiet place in the wilderness and listen to the birds while dreaming about the gorgeous men in her head.

Find out more about M.C. Roth at her website.

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. 

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Various Distractions (Persuasions #2) by AE Lister

Author A.E. Lister and Pride Publishing host a release blitz for Various Distractions (Persuasions #2)! Learn more about the BDSM tale and enter in the First Romance credit giveaway!

Various Distractions by AE Lister

Book 2 in the Persuasions series

Word Count: 69,144
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 286

Genres:

BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
TRANSGENDER

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Book Description

When life is perfect, you know it’s gonna throw you a curveball…or four.

Nic and Vincent have been riding the high of a new romantic relationship that works so well they are on the verge of officially moving in together—but then the distractions begin. Their friend Daphne needs a temporary dungeon space, and Nic’s basement seems the perfect solution. Vincent’s gay seventeen-year-old cousin, Taylor, needs a safe refuge from his uber-religious parents. When Vincent suffers an unexpected injury, Nic asks Daphne to suggest someone to help with domestic duties around the house.

These combined circumstances lead to a less-than-ideal home life for Vincent and Nic, who struggle to find alone time. But life has a way of giving people what they need, and the arrival of Matteo to help with chores around the house sets into motion an opportunity the three must decide to follow to its logical conclusion or abandon in order to maintain the emotional safety of all the participants.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of food play, minor incidents involving a Domme and public sex There is reference to the abandonment of an older teen by religious zealot parents, puppy and kitty play, and a suggestion of suicidal ideation. This book is best read as book two in the Persuasions series.

Excerpt

Taking afternoon tea at Daphne’s on Sundays had become a regular event.

Vincent wore a pretty pair of panties beneath his clothes, either at my direction or of his own choosing, and Daphne had him strip when we arrived. We had agreed Daphne could take charge of Vincent while we were in her home. I didn’t mind. I enjoyed watching him respond to her. He’d told me it was much more exciting for him, now that I was involved.

The first few weeks, she’d made Vincent perform some relevant service in his lacy underthings, like setting up the finger sandwiches and cakes on her tiered stand or making the tea or coffee.

Now that this visit had become a weekly ritual, his duties had expanded into other, more delectable, areas.

We took turns feeding Vincent small bites of cake or bread, giving him sips of tea from our cups and otherwise treating him as our amusing and beloved pet. He grew more and more aroused, and I caught him eyeing Daphne’s magnificent tits more than once. He said he didn’t like the clichés of femininity but, honestly, who didn’t appreciate a great pair of boobs?

As if on cue, a piece of the cake Daphne was eating fell into her cleavage, and she giggled. “Oh dear!”

I raised my eyebrows. “Vincent, did you see that?”

Daphne refrained from digging the morsel out of her blouse as her cheeks heated. The woman could set off a fake blush on cue. She winked at me with a grin.

“Yes, Sir,” Vincent said, gazing at me with wide eyes.

“Would you like a taste of that delicious cake?” I asked devilishly.

Vincent made a small sound and nodded, licking his lips.

“I thought so. Why don’t you snuffle that crumb out from between Daphne’s tits? If you can find it, you can have it.”

Daphne giggled, pulling her blouse down and leaning toward Vincent. Vincent blushed and looked at me to make sure I knew what I was asking.

I nodded. “Go ahead. It’s all right.” I gestured at Daphne’s generous offering. “I’ve been there too, y’know,” I whispered, as if it were a secret between me and him.

Something flashed in his eyes, and he smiled, then turned to Daphne.

“Mistress?” he asked.

His utter politeness sent a jolt of desire through me. He was so well-behaved, as if I had trained him to this, when, really, it came so very naturally.

“Go ahead, Vincent. Hands behind your back, please. You’ll probably need to use your tongue.”

My eyes widened as I watched my sexy twenty-four-year-old boyfriend lean forward slowly, hands behind him as requested, and gently push his face into the tantalizing crease between Daphne’s breasts.

She made a small noise and looked at me over Vincent’s head as his velvet tongue darted and licked to find the morsel of cake.

“Oh, goodness.” She stroked Vincent’s cropped ash-brown hair while he cleaned her up. “What a soft tongue you have, Vincent.” She gasped. “I’d forgotten, my dear, how adorable you are.”

Vincent made whimpering noises as he chased the crumbs and no doubt inhaled Daphne’s particular scent of jasmine and roses.

I glanced at the black lace boy-shorts he was wearing today and noticed he was hard, which was par for the course with Vincent. The boy was a priapic miracle. A savant perhaps? He got hard at the drop of a hat and came on command. What more could a Dom ask for?

Lots more, it turns out.

When Vincent finally located the piece of cake and swallowed it, pulling reluctantly away from Daphne’s warmth, I smiled at him, pleased.

“Good boy. I’m sure Daphne is very relieved that her little accident has been rectified.”

Daphne looked anything but relieved. She looked like she’d like to tie Vincent to a chair and ride him for a couple of hours. But she’d had her chance with Vincent, and now the boy was mine.

I watched him stand and start to tidy the dishes, while flashes of memory came through of using the single-tail the previous evening. I’d strapped Vincent to the spanking bench and lashed his buttocks and thighs lightly, just enough to push his arousal to the brink of tipping over. Then I’d released him and sucked his cock until he’d come, howling, down my throat. He’d wanted to touch me, but I’d forbidden it, and I wouldn’t forget the sight of his fingers clenching and unclenching while I worked him furiously to orgasm.

“Are you finished, Sir?” he asked, and it took me a moment to realize he was speaking about the cake and not asking if I was done reliving our encounter.

I cleared my throat. “Yes, thank you, Vincent.”

He took my plate and I leaned back in my chair, checking the time on my phone. It was only four-thirty, but we needed to get home and have a light supper. We had a gallery show to attend this evening. My friend Juno was exhibiting their artwork for the first time, and I’d promised them Vincent and I would drop by.

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

AE Lister

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published 10 books, one of which received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association – International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

“Sensual and visceral BDSM.” – Amazon.ca

Find out more about AE Lister at their website, and follow them on Instagram and Patreon.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: The Forest God's Favor (Of Gods and Men #1) by AT Lander

Merry Christmas to those that celebrate! 

Author AT Lander and Pride Publishing hosts a release blitz for new fantasy, The Forest God's Favor (Of Gods and Men #1)! Check out more info on the novella and enter in the First Romance gift card giveaway! Good luck!

The Forest God's Favor by AT Lander

Book 1 in the Of Gods and Men series

Word Count: 19,781
Book Length: NOVELLA
Pages: 79

Genres:

EROTIC ROMANCE
FANTASY
GAY
GLBTQI
GODS AND GODDESSES
HISTORICAL
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS

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Book Description

Can the love of a man heal the heart of a god?

Fertility god Anthos, a shy and gentle three-hundred-year-old virgin, has grown up in the shadow of his brutal older brother Dryas and spent his life hiding from mortals, no matter how much his nature draws him to them.

Cleon, a humble farmer who always has room in his heart and his bed, knows that Lord Dryas is angry. The crops aren’t growing, and his family is going to starve if he doesn’t give the god a worthy sacrifice—his own body. But when he reaches the shrine, he finds a very different god, the sweet, untouched Anthos.

Eager to satisfy Anthos’ curiosity, Cleon shows him what sex is…and what a relationship between them could be, with their instant attraction blooming into love. But when Dryas returns with a vengeance and Cleon’s life hangs in the balance, Anthos is forced to make a choice.

Will he bow once more before his brother’s rage, or take a stand for the only man who has ever had faith in him?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of abusive behavior, double penetration, voyeurism, exhibitionism and violence.

Excerpt

Cleon’s heart sank as he walked the rows of his family’s field, scanning for a single green shoot and finding none. The barley was two weeks late for sprouting—if it didn’t start growing soon, his family would starve come winter.

“Anything?” his little sister Amara asked as he left the field. Her hands were wringing the fabric of her peplos skirt even as her eyes said she knew the answer.

“Not one,” he said. “Any eggs from the chickens?”

“Not one,” she echoed. “The gods must be angry at us.”

That was the only explanation Cleon could think of, too. Dryas, their local fertility and forest god, was known for his temper. It would take very little provocation for him to withdraw his blessings.

The family gathered in front of their modest farmhouse, worried faces gazing at their patriarch. Cleon, the eldest son and the only one unmarried, glanced at the other members of the household. Amara sat beside him, while his twin younger brothers sat with their wives, both of whom were pregnant with their first children. They had no servants, no field hands, just them.

“We have to beg Lord Dryas for his forgiveness,” their father said, pacing back and forth. “Someone must go to the shrine and pay tribute. Whatever it takes, this curse on our farm must be lifted!”

“W-whatever it takes?” Amara asked nervously.

“Yes,” their father said gravely, words heavy with guilt. “Whatever it takes.”

His children looked at one another, eyes wide with anxiety. They wouldn’t say it out loud for fear of angering the god, but they knew what their father was asking. Dryas’ tastes in tribute were usually carnal and never kind. None of them had any illusions about what would happen to whoever went to plead their case, but there was no other option.

Cleon looked from face to face. Neither of his brothers had any taste for men, and it would be cruel to send either of their wives to such a fate, especially pregnant as they both were. As for Amara, the thought made his stomach twist in disgust. There was only one choice.

“I’ll go,” he said, getting to his feet.

“Are you sure?” Amara asked. “You know what—what he’ll do to you.”

“I know,” Cleon said, trying to sound brave. “But I’ve been with men, so it won’t be so bad for me as it would be for one of you.”

It was weak reasoning, but none of the others had anything better. Cleon was tall and strong, hardy enough to take some punishment and tan from hard labor in the sun. He was no Adonis, but he’d been called ruggedly handsome by past lovers, and he’d earned every muscle on his arms and chest. Dryas preferred pretty youths and maidens over men in their late twenties, but hopefully the god would accept his tribute anyway.

Cleon bathed in the river, combed his black hair and trimmed his short beard, brown eyes watching his reflection in a still pool. He prepared his body as best he could with slick oil and shaking fingers, hoping to reduce the inevitable pain. Finally, he donned their newest, finest tunic, the one Amara had woven and each of his brothers had worn for their weddings, and picked up their offerings with white-knuckled hands. There was nothing left to do but go.

Cleon gave his family the bravest smile he could muster, and they smiled back with pinched, anxious faces—all save his father, whose eyes were solemn and dark with guilt, and Amara, who was crying in his arms. Cleon squared his shoulders and turned resolutely toward the woods. He would face any terror and endure any hardship, if only he could save his loved ones from starvation.

The worn dirt path led deep into the forest, twisting and turning on the way to the shrine. Dappled light slipped through the swaying branches as chittering squirrels fled his passage to peer down at him from the trees.

He suppressed a shiver. These woods were old and sacred, the domain of a cruel and capricious god. At least Lord Dryas didn’t like live animal sacrifices—Cleon would hate to make this trek with a squawking, struggling chicken in his arms. Instead, he had a small jug of spiced wine, a half-dozen honey cakes and his own body…no matter how meager his offerings, they would have to be enough.

He had been to the shrine before as part of the harvest festival, placing the fruits of the year’s labors before the god’s great throne. Those had been times of song and drink and dance, honoring Dryas’ bounty and appeasing his temper with revelry and praise. The god had always chosen one or more young worshippers for his pleasure, and the thought made Cleon nearly sick. It always took them days to recover, if not weeks, and their eyes remained haunted for far, far longer.

This time the shrine was empty, the ring of marble pillars standing silent around the sacred oak. At the base was the god’s throne, grown out of the living wood, made for a nine-foot giant of a being. Cleon could remember looking up at him during the last festival—his eyes dark and cold, his legs those of a black deer and his antlers spreading like ancient, gnarled branches.

“Hello?” Cleon called, looking around for the shrine’s priest. The little hut next to the sacred circle was empty, but that shouldn’t have been a surprise. Lord Dryas tended to discard his priests when they turned twenty-five, and he must not have found a new one yet. It seemed like Cleon would have to beg for divine intervention on his own.

He walked to the stone altar and tried to keep his hands from shaking as he kindled the sacred flames. He doused the honey cakes in wine then fed them to the fire. The offerings were more than his family could really afford, but still they seemed too little. Finally, Cleon knelt before the great throne, pressing his forehead to the grass and trying to look as humble and pathetic as possible.

“Oh Lord Dryas, god of the forest and the field,” he prayed. “I beg your forgiveness! Whatever sin my family or I have committed against you, I humbly offer these gifts to appease your wrath.”

There was a deep, terrifying silence broken only by the blood pounding in Cleon’s ears. He dug his fingers into the grass, eyes squeezed shut, praying with all his might. If Dryas didn’t answer—

“Uh…yeah…” The voice was so small and hesitant that Cleon almost missed it. “Not your fault, really…”

Cleon’s head snapped up and he scanned the treeline. He didn’t see the speaker at first, looking for a taller shape, but when he finally found him…

Oh gods, the young man was exactly Cleon’s type. He looked to be twenty or a little younger, cute and small and beardless, with willowy arms and a bare, slender chest. His eyes were a vivid green against sun-bronzed skin dusted with faint freckles, and his light brown curls looked delightfully soft. He was blushing prettily, shifting from foot to foot and biting his full, kissable lower lip.

“Um, hello,” Cleon said when he could remember how words worked. He struggled to stay on task—he was here to save his family, not get distracted by a pretty face. “I don’t suppose you know where the forest god is?”

“That’s the thing,” the youth said, ducking his head bashfully. “I kind of…am the forest god?”

Cleon frowned at him. The young man might be cute, but he was clearly delusional. Yes, the gods could take other forms, but the idea of Lord Dryas becoming so small and adorable was ridiculous.

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you,” Cleon said. “Lord Dryas is not known for his merc—”

He stopped, eyes widening as the young man stepped out into the clearing on slender, delicate hooves. Deer hooves, just like Lord Dryas’. Unlike Dryas, though, his flanks were dappled with faint white spots and tawny brown to match his hair. What Cleon had assumed to be branches above the youth’s head revealed themselves to be antlers, short and nubby and covered in soft-looking velvet.

Cleon’s heart plummeted like a stone. This was no mortal boy, or even a common satyr. There was an aura about him—the trees leaning in just a little to bask in his presence, the sunlight glowing off his skin. He might be different from Dryas, but there was no denying that Cleon was in the presence of a god.

“Please forgive me, great one!” he cried, groveling once more in sudden terror. He already had one god angry at him and he wouldn’t survive a second. “I had no idea—I am so sorry—”

“No, don’t be,” the youth said, sounding weary and miserable. “I’m a pretty terrible god, to be honest.”

“What do you mean, my lord?” Cleon asked, daring to raise his eyes from the grass. The godling was shifting awkwardly from hoof to hoof, not looking at Cleon.

“Your farm,” he said. “It’s my fault nothing’s growing. My big brother left last month and I…well…”

“You mean Lord Dryas?” Cleon asked.

The youth nodded, biting his lower lip in an adorable way, and Cleon couldn’t help a twinge of relief. His farm was still in trouble, but at least this god seemed willing to help.

“I’ve been trying, I really have,” the godling said, running his hands through his hair. The gesture revealed adorable little pointed ears, and Cleon had to fight to stay focused. “I just don’t know how to make it work!”

“My lord—” Cleon started, sitting back up on his knees.

“Anthos, please.” The god ducked his head. “I’m not used to…it feels weird.”

“Anthos,” Cleon said, “what exactly is the problem?”

Anthos sighed, walking over and sitting on the grass a few feet from Cleon. He pulled his fuzzy knees up to his chest, hugging them close and staring at the ground.

“I’m a fertility god,” Anthos explained. “I’m in charge of new life, new growth…or I am now. My brother took care of things for so many centuries that I never learned how to do it. Now he’s gone, it’s my job, and I can’t do anything.”

“He never taught you?” Cleon asked.

“We’re not Olympians!” Anthos cried, eyes flicking up to Cleon and face turning bright red. “Only the highest gods do…that with their siblings.”

“Oh,” Cleon said, blushing too. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Anthos said, dropping his gaze again. “But that’s the problem—it requires personal experience. I can’t make things fertile until I’ve, you know…had sex.”

“Oh,” Cleon breathed. His heart was beating faster now, his throat going dry as he stared at Anthos. “Would a mortal do? A man?”

“Yeah,” Anthos said with a mirthless little chuckle, “if anyone wanted me. Big brother always said nobody would want to sleep with a puny, pathetic runt.”

Rage flared up in Cleon, all the hotter for its rarity. He’d revered and feared Lord Dryas all his life, burying resentment deep in his heart. The gods could be cruel or kind to mortals—that was their right—but this? The thought of treating his own siblings like this made Cleon ball his hands into fists, and a lifetime of suppressed hatred boiled over. For the first time in his life, he spoke ill of a god.

“You’re not a runt!” Cleon cried. “Your brother was a cruel bastard! He made whole families starve…he set wolves on their flocks and took any man or woman he pleased! I bet he cut down your confidence because he was scared of you. Anyone would prefer a god like you over him!”

“R-really?” Anthos gasped, looking up with wide, shocked eyes.

“As long as you don’t send a famine when there aren’t enough dancing girls at your festival,” Cleon said, belly clenching in remembered hunger. “We worshipped him because we were afraid, but nobody liked him.”

“And you…you like…me?” Anthos asked, voice soft and hopeful.

Cleon opened his mouth then closed it again, unsure of what to say. His flirting experience said this was going pretty well, but how was he supposed to proposition a god? He was just a farmer, rough and rugged and no great beauty. Anthos was so out of his league it wasn’t even funny.

Still, in for an obol, in for a drachma. The god didn’t seem like the type to curse someone for asking, and if he said yes…

“I like you a lot,” Cleon said earnestly, “and I’d really like to kiss you.”

“I…” Anthos licked his lips, his gaze lowering. “I’d like that too.”

Cleon scooted forward slowly, like he was approaching a skittish deer. He reached out to cup one cheek, tawny-gold and warm. Sun-dappled lashes fluttered, the godling’s green eyes falling closed as he leaned in with bated breath.

The first kiss was soft and gentle, just a chaste brush of lips. It was a little thing, but it still sent a thrill through Cleon, a surge of desire. His body knew what Anthos was, something wild, ancient and divine. By the time they pulled away, his cock was hard and twitching.

Anthos let out a soft little sigh when they parted. He gave Cleon a shy smile, nervous and sweet.

“Again?” he asked, as though Cleon might say no. Could say no.

Buy Links

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First For Romance

About the Author

AT Lander

AT Lander has loved stories, both the reading and the telling, since she was a child. Born in upstate New York to an English professor and a former librarian, she now lives in the queerest part of Massachusetts. She never leaves home without a knitting project or a pencil, and she’s never met a cat she doesn’t like.

She has worked as an history museum guide, a professional storyteller, and an actress, sharing tales of what was, what could have been, and what can only be imagined. World mythology is her driving passion, as what better way to understand a people than through the tales they tell?

Follow AT Lander on Twitter and Facebook.

Giveaway

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Mistletoe Menage by Lily Harlem & A Spoonful of Sugar by AE Lister


The We Three Kings collection is out from Pride Publishing! Read more about Mistletoe Menage by Lily Harlem and A Spoonful of Sugar by AE Lister! Enter in the First Romance gift card giveaway!

A Spoonful of Sugar by AE Lister
Mistletoe Menage by Lily Harlem

Genres:

BONDAGE AND BDSM (A Spoonful of Sugar)
CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS

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A Spoonful of Sugar
Mistletoe Menage

Book Description

A Spoonful of Sugar

A kinky interlude over the holidays brings three men closer as their unconventional relationship evolves from casual to serious.

Scott Vernier met Jericho Griffin and Pascal Olejatz at a Halloween party in October and soon became casually involved with the kinky, committed pair.

Over the course of the holidays, the men struggle to find time together outside their busy schedules and finally make space for each other over Christmas week. Scott finds himself craving more of a committed relationship with these wonderful men and tiptoes around the issue to find out if Jericho and Pascal feel the same.

Scott’s dreams of expertly delivered medical play already a vivid reality, the men introduce him to more deliciously subversive scenes including teacher-student role play and invite him to dabble with imaginary non-consent.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of enema play and imaginary non-consent.

Mistletoe Menage


The winter days might be frosty, but a new guy in town is sure to heat up Father Nicholas and Dr. Zach!

Reverend Nicholas Simmons has traveled a bumpy road before landing in the small town of Mindle with his doctor husband. So, when a new, very sexy, very enticing young man shows interest in them both, he’s reluctant to rock the boat.

Zach, however, can’t keep the flashes of desire from his eyes. He’d never cheat, of course not, but visions of hot threesomes dance in his mind. Will Nicholas ever agree? If so, what would it be like? How hard would they all come?

Brandon isn’t looking forward to his first Christmas in Mindle. He’s alone. Exhausted. Friendless. That is, until he meets the Reverend and Zach. From that first moment he’s equal parts fascinated and turned on by them. Sure, they’re older than he is, but that just heightens his lust and increases his need to get hot, sweaty and naked with them.

Will their romance have a backdrop of tinsel and holly? Can three strong, passionate men truly connect with absolute honesty? And on Christmas night, will they each get the ultimate present—one another—under the tree?

Purchase one or both at First For Romance

About the Authors

AE Lister

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published 10 books, one of which received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association – International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

“Sensual and visceral BDSM.” – Amazon.ca

Find out more about AE Lister at their website, and follow them on Instagram and Facebook. You can join their Facebook group and find out more at their BDSM blog.

Lily Harlem

 

Award-winning, bestselling author Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is a complete floozy when it comes to genres and pairings, writing from male/female contemporary to gay paranormal and everything in between.

One thing you can be sure of when you pick up a Lily book is heat will rise from the pages and you'll be reading late into the night! Enjoy!

 

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! 

 a Rafflecopter giveaway  

Notice: This competition ends on 4th January 2021 at 12am EST. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. 

Release Blitz + Giveaway: La Petite Mort (The Devil's in the Details #4) by Pelaam


Author Pelaam and Pride Publishing are ready for the Halloween romance spirit with new release, La Petite Mort (The Devil's in the Details #4)! Read more about the latest in the series! Don't miss the $50 First Romance giveaway!

La Petite Mort by Pelaam

Book 4 in the The Devil's in the Details series

General Release Date: 19th October 2021

Word Count: 45,548
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 195

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
HORROR
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL

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Book Description

The little death… Sometimes you never wake up.

When Samael, an incubus-possessed witch, escapes Garen and Luke, leaving not just another victim but also one of their own injured in the process, Garen is determined to track down the demon.

Its trail vanishes when it leaves New Zealand, only to be eventually picked up again by a team working in the UK.

Invited to assist them, Garen and Luke travel to England to meet the other team of investigators—Emery, his husband Alex and their friend Kadin. They also meet an unusual and unofficial team member, Grim.

The incubus has gone to ground in the country home of Steven Huntleigh, rich playboy and president of the Hellfire Club.

Emery, Luke and Kadin infiltrate the club and Kadin risks flirting with the incubus.

When the time comes to battle the demon, will the team be able to resist its lure—or will they become additional victims of its insatiable appetite?

Excerpt

From his vantage point at the back of the room, Luke watched Garen as his husband paced back and forth, gesticulating sharply and trying to get the woman across the table to engage with him.

But, far from cooperating, she looked increasingly more irritated. Luke stifled his sigh, knowing that the sound would only annoy her further. It’s not like I’m surprised. Melani-Leigh Waru-Richards was a socialite—rich, attractive, at least superficially, and used to others doing what she wanted, not vice versa. Her reputation had preceded her—arrogant, spoiled, demanding and downright rude.

But she’s also one of our three prime candidates for dying at the hands of a demon or demonic entity on the night of the upcoming full moon.

With Thomas’ approval, Garen had brought her to their headquarters where he and Luke were hoping to persuade her of the danger and have her agree to protective care until the moon waned. The full moon is just two nights away. As much as she’s proving to be a stupid, stubborn fool, I still don’t want her to be another victim.

“We wouldn’t be wasting your time, our time or anyone else’s if we didn’t believe the threat was very real, Ms. Waru-Richards.” Garen stopped pacing, slammed his hands down on the table and leaned toward the woman. It was a tactic that had worked many times in the past, but not with Melani-Leigh, who pursed her lips tightly and glowered at him before rising slowly from her seat.

“Inspector Morloc—”

“The name is Warnock.” Garen growled the words and Luke quickly went to his husband’s side, laying a hand at the small of his back, wanting to defuse the situation. Now that he was closer to the woman, he could see why she’d been described as a ‘plastic princess’.

Although her face appeared wrinkle-free, her hands told another story. Luke already knew her hair owed more to extensions than natural tresses. False eyelashes, fake tan, synthetic nails, artificial hair and silicone breasts. But for someone who’s in her late forties, from a distance she could pass as still in her twenties.

“All we’re asking you to do is to allow us to put you somewhere safe for the duration of the full moon. It’s just for a couple of nights.” Luke turned on all his persuasive powers, but Melani-Leigh simply folded her arms, her posture ramrod straight.

“You don’t even know for sure that I’m even in any danger, do you? Well, do you?” She looked from Luke to Garen then back at Luke. “Exactly as I thought. No, you don’t. You don’t know anything.”

“We know two people have already died, and we’d like to prevent a third.” Garen drew himself to his full height and glared down at Melani-Leigh.

“If we could be more specific, we would be,” Luke added as he rubbed soothing circles on Garen’s back.

“I have two very important functions to attend.” Melani-Leigh flicked at imaginary dust on her designer jacket sleeve. “Both involve charities that I personally sponsor—and not only am I expected to be there, I shall be. There will be top celebrities in attendance. Look… I’m no fool. I have a hand-selected team of expert security personnel who will be with me at all times. I can assure you that I won’t dismiss your concerns, but they won’t stop my life, either. No one but those closest to me, or most trusted, are permitted anywhere near me. I take it that this…creature doesn’t attack in full view of hundreds of witnesses.”

“No, but—” Garen started, and Luke winced as Melani-Leigh held up a perfectly manicured hand.

“No. You said it yourself. I will invite no strangers into my home. I’ll even salt the doors and windows and burn sage.” She cocked an eyebrow at Luke. “See? I’m aware of protections.”

“There’s nothing we can say to persuade you otherwise?” Luke asked. We can hardly threaten to lock her up if she won’t accept our help, and it is possible that she isn’t the intended victim.

“No. And if I thought I was in danger I’d have already done something about it. In my position, I have to be mindful of stalkers, overzealous fans, potential thieves and would-be kidnappers. Tell you what…” Melani-Leigh reached into the Gucci purse that she’d set on the table and drew out two gold-embossed invitations. “I’ll have you added to the guest list, Inspector.” She scribbled quickly on each card. “There we are, Inspector Warnock and guest. You can keep an eye on things right through the evening.”

“Thank you.” Garen accepted the invitations, passing them straight to Luke without as much as a glance. “We won’t keep you. There’s nothing more to be said.”

“Look… I appreciate you have a job to do, but believe me, my security is second to none. I pay for them to be the best.” Melani-Leigh hooked the purse over her wrist and sauntered to the door. “See you on Friday night.” Without a backward glance, she left the room, the door closing softly behind her.

For a moment there was silence in the room and Luke finally allowed himself the heavy sigh he’d previously banked.

“Fucking arrogant idiot.” Garen snapped out the words, his expression a mix of irritation and concern. “‘I pay for them to be the best’.”

“I suppose we could have shown her the desiccated corpses we have.” Luke sat on the edge of the table. “But she’d have probably put in a complaint against us. At least we can be on hand.” Luke fanned the invites and Garen snorted.

“But we can’t have a protective circle or a backup team ready to support us.”

“No.” Luke ran his hand through his hair. “Or can we?”

“What?” Garen turned to face Luke. “How?”

“If Thomas will throw his weight behind us, I’m sure that we can arrange with the hotel manager to allow us to have a room where we can set up a protective circle…just as a precaution. She was right in one respect. Neither of the victims were attacked in the open. One was in bed, and the other was sprawled across a kitchen table.”

“And both were naked.” Garen cocked his head. “Which suggests to me that sex may be involved. We couldn’t tell anything useful from the bodies. They were far too desiccated.

“Which could point toward a succubus or an incubus.” Luke sighed. “One that doesn’t care whether its victims are male or female. So many ifs, buts and maybes. We need to narrow down the search for ‘what’. Then we may find the ‘who’.”

“No signs of forced entry. Nothing out of place or missing. In both instances the victim’s friends even described them as very happy.” Garen rubbed his chin. “No. There was another phrase.”

“A new lease on life.” Luke snapped his fingers.

“Yes.” Garen nodded slowly. “That’s it. Over the past few weeks, they’d had a new lease on life—almost identical in both cases.”

“Then I suggest we find a few close friends of Melani-Leigh’s and see if she’s having a new lease on life. If so, then she’s the one we’ll target, and I’ll organize teams for the others.”

“Perfect.” Luke pecked a kiss to Garen’s cheek. “And I’ll make sure we have protections and spells for dealing with an incubus or a succubus.”

“Take care out there. Keep in touch. I’ll see you later. Come back here when you’ve got what you need.” Garen pulled Luke into a tight hug, and Luke wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist.

“I will.” Luke tilted his head and Garen gave him the kiss he craved. For a moment Luke lost himself in the feel, taste and scent of his husband. Reluctantly he slowly eased back. “I won’t be too long.”

“Good. By the time you return, I’ll have the teams organized and get Thomas to deal with the hotel hosting our potential victim.”

“Get schematics. We can map the place out and ensure we have everything covered.” Luke grinned up at Garen. “If the demonic force strikes there, we’ll have enough protections in place to deal with it.”

“Will do.” Garen gave a curt nod, then spun Luke around, swatting his ass to make him move forward. “Let’s get this started. I’ll feel happier when you’re back here.’

“I won’t be long.” Luke set off at a trot. The sooner I get going, the sooner I’ll be back.

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About the Author

Pelaam

Living in clean, green New Zealand, Pelaam is a multi-published author of gay romance and erotica. When not working at writing, Pelaam likes to indulge in her other passions of cookery and wine appreciation.

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