Love is an earthquake that relocates the centre of the universe.
Blurb
Oakley Hoffman is a walking, talking natural disaster. Not only does he seem to be the only functioning adult in his family, but he also stomps around creating irrational earthquakes with every badly thought-out ridiculous move he makes. He barely survived lockdown, and with life returning to something that vaguely resembles normal, Oakley has landed himself an inconvenient infatuation with his former best friend. Well, if he’s totally honest, he’s probably nursed that crush for years. Yet, this time around, infatuation has brought a bad streak of jealousy to boot.
Force Majeure is a 32K novella featuring childhood friends to lovers in adulthood, with explicit content intended for mature readers. No trigger warnings.
Force Majeure refers to a clause that is included in contracts to remove liability for natural and unavoidable catastrophes that interrupt the expected course of events.
Excerpt
The clinking of the lock to the Demircis’ apartment kicks me out of my daydreams, and my heart jolts as I jump to my feet, almost tripping myself up in an effort to not look like I’m loitering.
“I could hear you a mile off,” Cem says, shuffling out into the hall, shivering despite the duvet draped around his shoulders like a royal cape. “You need to go to work and stop trying to scratch my head through the walls.”
He sits on the step. Too weak to fight the pull of his presence, I plonk down beside him, probably bruising my arse in the process, because I know I’ll get what I’ve been craving. Cem has always needed contact, and here I am, being squashed against the wall as he leans his body against mine and his head falls heavily on my shoulder.
“I’m a dick,” he says, bang on with the self-reflection.
“Yeah,” I want to shout at him, scream in his goddamn face, shake him until he gets his head in gear and sees how he has shattered my world. But I don’t. I can be a calm, reasonable person, and I have far too much self-control to fall apart in front of Cemil Demirci.
“I got carried away at the weekend,” he continues. “There was a party, and then I stayed over with friends, and time just kind of evaporated, you know?” Excuses. Always excuses.
“You have an exam today,” I say. If I sound angry, it’s because I can’t help myself.
“It’s under control.” He sighs deeply and turns his head so his nose is pressed into my shoulder. That’s something else he does to reel me in. Why do I let him so cheaply buy my forgiveness? “I studied all week, so I’m good. It’s all in here.” His hand pokes out of the duvet to point at his head. “I’m not worried about the exams.”
I’m not worried either. Cem is too clever for his own good. He’ll read a book and memorise every line, quoting it back at me in long, rambling sentences I barely understand. Nor have I ever seen him use a calculator. He scribbles down numbers at frightening speed on whatever surface he can find and then does the calculation in his head.
Cem knows stuff. Far too much stuff.
“I miss you,” I whisper without meaning to. Even shielded by all the jealousy and anger I feel, knowing I’m slowly, irrevocably losing him again, it’s the truth. He is the calm to my inner storm, and I will forgive him for anything and everything. And I hate myself for it.
About the Author
Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.
Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The Au Pair just sighs.
She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in Scandinavia.
Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue.
Find me on social media @sophiasoames on all platforms
Christina Stern is a Russian based artist. Quick sketches and portraits drawn in pencil are what she likes to do the most. Her work can be found on @christinastern on Instagram
Aurelia Morris is a cover artist, photographer, Photoshop wiz and eternal fangirl. She works in many mediums under more aliases that she can keep track of.
He turned his back on his brothers for the man he loved.
Spade is a bisexual biker struggling with his sexual identity when he meets Cyrus, his new neighbor. An instant attraction is formed and he wastes little time in getting to know Cy. Spade has never had a relationship he couldn’t easily walk away from but this time might be different. As his feelings deepen, he must choose between Cyrus and his club.
Cyrus is intimidated and intrigued by the big biker next door. Cyrus has never explored his sexual feelings for a man until he meets Spade. When Spade makes advances, he willingly surrenders to him. He wants to experience everything with Spade because he knows the dominant biker will soon tire of him.
Spade quickly realizes he must give up the club even if it means losing his best friend, Snake, because he can’t part from Cyrus. When Snake discovers his secret, they almost come to blows, but Cyrus helps to negotiate peace between the two friends.
Spade’s choice means giving up the biker lifestyle he loves but it could be the beginning of something even better.
Excerpt
The midday sun blasted Spade’s back as he cranked the nut on the rear axle of his motorcycle. He’d returned home from a long run over the weekend and noticed the sprocket teeth were worn. He would have preferred to have done this in the garage at the club but he was avoiding the drama. A couple of the members’ ol’ ladies were in a snit about a new club chick hitting on their men. So he was steering clear of the club until that shit got shut down. If it were his ol’ lady, he’d have laid some leather to her ass. Maybe that’s why I’m single. He chuckled to himself then cursed when the wrench slipped and he busted his knuckles.
A slamming door drew his attention and he stood to see a guy on the back porch of the adjacent house. He shared a double-wide driveway with the other home. He’d seen the car in the driveway late last night when he’d finally ridden in. At the time, he’d been too tired to give it a thought. The house had sat empty for a few months. Recently he’d heard it had sold to a single guy. He was glad there wouldn’t be children running around. He didn’t dislike kids, however he didn’t want to deal with parents complaining about the sound of his bike or the way he looked. The guy jogged down the steps into his backyard and out of view behind his privacy fence. From what Spade had seen, he was a couple years younger than his own thirty. Crouching down, he went back to tightening the nuts, making sure they were snug and even.
An hour later, his bike roared to life as he took it for a test drive. He had other things to get done today so he rode a few blocks, grabbed some beer and returned. He bent to examine his work. Finding everything in order, he patted his leather seat and stood to find his new neighbor standing on the drive. He blinked, startled by his unheard approach.
“Sup?” Spade gave a nod to the younger guy, who eyed him anxiously. The deer in the headlights look wasn’t a surprise. He’d been told he was intimidating as fuck. The motorcycle and cut alone caused trepidation but he stood six-foot-three with a substantial build and more ink showing than skin.
“Hello,” the man finally answered with a slight nod.
“Name’s Spade,” he said. He took a couple steps and stretched out his hand.
“Cyrus,” he replied. A smooth, soft hand gripped Spade’s firmly.
“Live alone?” Spade asked.
Cyrus glanced around nervously before answering, “Yeah.”
“Me too.” Spade couldn’t help smirking at the other man’s unease. “Beer is getting warm so I better head in.” Glancing over his shoulder as he headed for his door, Spade was rewarded with a glimpse of a nice ass in a tight pair of pants. Spade chuckled. Cyrus really would be nervous if he knew what he was thinking about that ass.
At the door, Spade cocked his head as something on the corner of Cyrus’ bumper caught his eye. He made a quick detour across the driveway to investigate. A gay pride rainbow sticker curled just around the edge. “Sweet.” Spade whistled as he headed back to the door. Soon, he would give Cyrus the ride of his life.
* * * *
Spade finished his third beer while watching a high school football game, which wasn’t holding his interest. Getting up to take a leak, he glanced out the window. Cyrus had yet to put up curtains and his house was ablaze with lights. Spade shook his head and wondered, was he afraid of the dark or what?
“Oh hello.” Cyrus had just appeared in his living room, stark naked except for the towel he held in front of his crotch. Spade tilted his head as he admired his neighbor’s fine ass. From here, the younger dude appeared to be all lean muscle. Cyrus bent forward to grab the remote and Dipper, as Spade affectionately called his dick, stirred behind the well-worn denim of his jeans. The television flipped between the sports news channels. To Spade’s delight, Cyrus flung the towel over his shoulder before heading back toward the bathroom. His dick wasn’t bad either, Spade thought. For a thin guy, Cyrus had some girth. Nothing like his behemoth Dipper, but it was nothing to be embarrassed about.
“Fuck.” Spade shifted his arousal. He might have to enjoy some self-love, because he wasn’t gonna be able to sleep like this.
L.A. Day is a multi-published author of erotic romances. Her heroes might be bikers, shifters, vampires, aliens, time-travelers, barbarians, billionaires, or CEO's but they are always strong, assertive men! Her heroines might be tough or submissive but they are always sassy, funny, and sarcastic. In real life, Laura is a wife, mother, and dog lover. She loves to collect pottery and you can often find her at antique and resale shops. Her friends are often SHOCKED that their seemingly sweet friend writes dirty books.
From strangers in the night to happy couples looking for a little spice, Naughty by Nature has the story for you. Each short story features steamy adult encounters in the great outdoors, not to mention a delicious variety of kinks. After all, roughing it shouldn't have to mean giving up all our creature comforts that bring… pleasure.
So grab your sleeping bag and get back to nature in all the best ways. With a total of eleven stories by some of your favorite MM Romance authors, you're sure to find something to have you howling at the moon in no time!
Winslow Birkel is a sweet young man in his first relationship. But his boyfriend, the charming and fiery Chad Loveless, has become increasingly abusive to the point where Winslow fears for his life.
Everything changes in a single night when Winslow, fleeing yet another epic fight, goes out to a local bar and finds a sympathetic ear in a new friend, Darryn Maxwell. But when he comes home, Chad’s waiting. He’s got it in for Winslow, whom he wrongly accuses of being unfaithful.
The stormy night sends Winslow off on a journey to escape. The last thing he recalls is skidding off the road and into the river. When he awakens, he’s mysteriously in the charming seaside town of Seaspray, where people are warm and welcoming, yet their appearances and disappearances are all too inexplicable.
Back home, Darryn wonders what’s happened to the new guy he met during his first outing to the local gay bar, the Q. Darryn knows Winslow’s been abused, but he also feels he’s quickly fallen in love with Winslow.
Can Winslow and Darryn decipher their respective mysteries? Is it possible for them to reunite? Is Chad still lurking and plotting to make sure Winslow never loves anyone else? The answers to these questions await you in Seaspray, where you may, or may not, ever leave.
I opened my eyes to a world of blue and green. An eel, long with zebra stripes, swam by, undulating. A school of goldfish with Margaret Keane eyes and puckered lips circled, putting me in the eye of a surreal hurricane. A flick of their tails and they swam off as one.
The bubbles floated up, pouring from my mouth and nostrils.
My lungs weren’t tight. There was no desperate need to breathe, no panic. Mentally, I went back and forth—remain underwater, watching the play of light and shadow and the undulating flora in its rainbow of neon colors, or kick and rise to the surface.
But what was above, beyond the water, was a mystery.
The threat of certain death caused me to ascend toward the light shimmering on the water’s surface.
I broke through, sucking sweet, cold air into my lungs. I smiled, treading water.
I was not afraid.
For the first time in so long—I. Was. Not. Afraid.
I swirled in the gentle waves, which were as warm as a comforting bath, despite the chill in the air. White birds, gulls perhaps, pinwheeled above me in a leaden sky, the color of pewter. All across the water’s surface, strands of mist lay. The mist extended toward a rocky shoreline, dotted here and there with driftwood.
Cliffs rose up, chalky white at the edge of the beach. At the top, stands of pine towered over the sea, sentinels. Tree-covered hills, in shades of deep emerald, reached to touch the leaden sky. The top ones were shrouded in mist.
Where was I?
I stretched out in the water, part of me unwilling to leave, but following an instinct for self-preservation, I swam slowly to the shore. It felt like I was far from it, maybe even by as much as a mile, yet I covered the distance in mere minutes.
I pulled myself onto the beach, breathing harder but not gasping, and lay among the pebbles. Oddly, it was as comfortable as my grandma’s feather bed once was.
I remained there for a while, staring up at the sky, where the charcoal clouds were beginning to be burned away by the sun. As the gray vanished, it was replaced with patches of blue.
I could lie here all day, resting.
And then I tensed. A memory floated into consciousness, making me recall a horrible night. When was it? Paradoxically, the memory could have been years or only minutes ago.
My name is Winslow Birkel, and this is one of the things memory is forcing me to confront:
»
I sank into the driver’s seat of my beat-up Nissan Versa. At the little riverfront park, I marked the slow progress of a river barge cutting through the dark water. Its lights, reflected on the water’s shifting black surface, were the picture of loneliness.
I could identify with loneliness. Separation. Isolation. These days, they were my only companions.
I also could identify with fanciful notions and, in my mind’s eye, realized how the reflections of the barge’s lights on the dark water, golden, appeared to be traveling upward. If I looked at them just the right way, I could visualize them as shimmering fountains contrasted against a black background. How I longed to enter a world of golden fountains casting off the darkness.
Even though now, on this beach, I felt totally free of pain as though someone had dosed me with morphine, the memory of pain in my ribs was there. I imagined the intensity of the hurt when I dared to draw in a deep breath.
Like a doctor in a film, I visualized the bruise on my lower back above where my kidneys were. I could still feel the dull, unrelenting throb. The red marks in the shape of fists darkened to purple, a malevolent blooming.
Yet even with the bursts of nauseating pain, what hurt the most wasn’t physical.
I knew I’d fled the house I’d once occupied—I’d never call it a home because home meant warmth, security, stability, and most of all, safety.
I’d dashed out, looking over my shoulder at a menacing figure standing in the open front doorway of our house, fists clenched. Chad Loveless, my partner—I’d never call him my beloved, or lover, or even friend, not ever again—glared.
What had it been this time? Oh yeah, I’d broken his favorite coffee mug, the one with a German shepherd cartoon figure on a black background, as I was washing dishes. The mug had been slippery in my sudsy hands, and it had dropped. I’d gasped as it shattered on the linoleum kitchen floor, the dread and terror way out of proportion, rising immediately.
And so did Chad. He hurried into the kitchen from his recliner in the front room and forced me to the floor by the back of my neck.
The most menacing thing about this man I’d thrown my lot in with (love no longer entered the equation) was—and this would be surprising to an outsider—his smile. The smile never wavered, not when Chad was berating me for some real or imagined fault, nor when a fist connected with a soft spot on my body—rarely my face—it was our little secret, hidden by the baggy jeans and sweatshirts I favored.
He’d smile and smile and smile, as though what he was delivering was not pain and casual cruelty, but joy.
Joy had not had a place in our house for such a long time. Back then I didn’t think I’d know if I’d recognize the emotion if it turned up at the front door wearing a ribbon.
Rick R. Reed is an award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction. He is a Lambda Literary Award finalist. Entertainment Weekly has described his work as “heartrending and sensitive.” Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” Find him at www.rickrreedreality.blogspot.com. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA, with his husband, Bruce, and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix, Kodi.
Genres: Contemporary M/M Romance Suspense – Two men falling in love while budging bullets and chasing bad guys.
Tropes: Mistaken identity / opposites attract / lone wolf meets stubborn pretty boy / age gap / found family
Themes: Falling in love / chasing bad guys / overcoming trust issues / finding balance and letting go of other people’s expectations
Length:77 672 words
Heat Rating: 4 flames
It is a standalone book and is the first in the series to be published. It does not end on a cliffhanger. Suspense and Romance is complete, but there’s a 2nd book with a new couple and a continuation of the suspense plot.
Jake Devlin knows trouble when he sees it and he wants no part of it. His quiet, peaceful life is a hard-fought dream. And the man who stumbles through the backdoor of Jake’s bar—beaten to hell—he is trouble with a capital T. The last thing Jake needs is to get involved with the sexy and secretive stranger. He definitely shouldn’t offer him a place to stay. But…he does…
Murder and mayhem follow Detective Miguel Conway. One minute he’s working a case, and the next, his cover is blown and he barely escapes with his life. Con didn’t expect Jake to offer help when he needs it most. And he definitely wasn’t prepared to fall for the grumpy ex-Marine. But…he does…
Attraction sparks as the two men are thrown together to figure out who wants to keep Con quiet and why. Well, at least Con is trying to solve his case. Jake is mainly trying to protect the young, impulsive cop. Midnight stakeouts, a celebrity wedding, and passion-filled nights—can Jake and Con find the balance between taking risks and keeping safe? And turn attraction into happily ever after?
But none of that matters if they fail to get the target off Con’s back…
Series: End of the Line, Book 1 in the award-winning Jake’s Bar series, is a steamy, M/M romantic suspense featuring a rainbow-colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle. It’s a place where you can always find support (and a cold beer) when life spins out of control. So, download today, and get ready to fall in love with Jake’s Bar.
Excerpt
A gay bar. Thank you, Jesus. A fucking gay bar. Loud and proud. Con’s kind of place, but none of Murphy’s men would be caught dead in here. Con’s body hurt all over, but they hadn’t found him. He’d given his pursuers the slip and was out of the rain.
About an hour ago—close to two in the morning—Jake had flipped the lights on and kicked everybody out. People barely dared to finish their drinks when the big, bulky man with his booming voice told them to go the fuck home. Con would be surprised if any of them would come back. Damn, Jake was something else. Con had a thing for guys who took charge and thinking of it sent sparks down his spine.
Jake had offered Con to call it a night as soon as the last guest had left the place. Clearly, he hadn’t missed that Con was moving slower and slower as the night progressed. And fuck, his ribs hurt something fierce. Still, he had declined Jake’s offer to leave right away. The bar owner had raised an eyebrow, but much to his relief, Jake had started to put the chairs up himself while Con got a broom. And every time he tried to do anything but sweep, Jake had thundered at him to stay out of the way.
“Are you trying to dig a hole with that broom? I think that corner is clean enough,” Jake said quietly from across the room, his tall frame propped against the bar—arms crossed—watching. Jake’s calm focus sent chills over Con’s body as he forced himself to relax with a few more long inhales and exhales. His overtired brain fired some images of being at the receiving end of Jake’s laser sharp attention under different circumstance—with a whole lot less distance between them, and fewer clothes. Jake was hot in an angry, pissed-off way. Square. Solid. A force to be reckoned with.
Loud tapping of Jake’s fingers onto the bar brought Con back from his wayward thoughts. For a moment, the impatient rhythm was the only sound, then Jake let out a huff of air and said, “Listen, I’m not sure how to ask this, but—do you have anywhere to go tonight?”
“Yes, of course, I—” Con’s answer had been a reflex, but he actually had no idea how to end this sentence.
“You can stay here if you have nowhere safe to go.”
Nowhere safe. How did he know? Con’s heart skipped a beat and then started to race again in his chest. His eyes shot over to the front door. How the fuck did he know?
“Hey, calm down.” Jake pushed himself up from the counter and walked a few steps closer but then stopped again. “You have no defensive wounds. And, well, you’re a big dude, so I wonder what happened to you tonight.”
Three against one. I never had a chance.
“It’s fine. You’re safe. Is it okay if I touch you?” Jake was suddenly by his side, his voice soft. Gently, a hand came down on his shoulder. “It’s okay. Why don’t you just stay on my couch tonight?”
The warmth of Jake’s hand seeped through his skin. Con gritted his jaw to steel himself against the sudden need to lean in. Any other time, he’d have given Jake crap for treating him like a wounded animal, but his beat-up body was starting to give in on him. “That would be great,” he managed through clenched teeth.
About the Author
Eighteen years ago, AG Meiers came to the US for adventure and stayed for love. Currently, she lives in New England with her husband and two awesome kids—balancing work, friends and family, and writing.
When she has some free time, her favorite thing to do is travel and visit new places. Her past trips have already brought her to a variety of countries on four continents. She never passes up an opportunity to experience different cultures, diverse people and amazing locations.
Even though she has been dreaming up stories all her life, she has only recently started to write them down and share them with the world. As a writer she loves to put her characters through a lot of challenges, conflict and heartbreak, before she allows them to find their happy-ever-after.
It is the year 2115 and the world is very different. With climate changes, natural disasters and war shaping the landscape, England has become a nation made up of several super cities and wasteland in between.
Eric Rawlins is a genetically engineered superhero created by the London Security Agency (L.S.A) to defend and protect the city against both national and international threats. With his superior abilities, celebrity status and beautiful girlfriend, Eric appears to have the perfect life. However, it is an illusion created by the L.S.A in order to control him.
Eric's nemesis is the charismatic Adam Larimore. The only son of billionaire business tycoon Victor Larimore, Adam is gifted with a genius level IQ as well as the same longevity as Eric.
When the actions of the L.S.A throw the two of them together Eric finds himself questioning everything that he has ever known as well as discovering the true course of events that led to Adam turning to a life of crime. As they become closer Eric realises that the L.S.A may be the real threat to London. But can he trust Adam or is he part of Adam’s plan for revenge against those who have wronged him?
BOOK 2
Book Title: Adam
Length: 243 pages
Release Date: March 12, 2016
It can be read as a standalone but it is best to read with the Perfect World series.
Adam Larimore is on a mission of self-destruct. After learning that he was genetically engineered for the sole purpose of inheriting his father’s empire, Adam has been determined to ruin his father’s life and, in the process, his own. When Ivan Williams, the man soon to become the Head of the London Security Agency (L.S.A), approaches Adam with the offer of a business partnership, Adam discovers the appalling truth behind the technological and genetic advancements that have come to shape England. His relationship with his father is at breaking point and when events take a devastating turn, Adam finds himself pushed further than perhaps he wanted to go.
BOOK 3
Book Title: New Era
Length: 272 pages
Release Date: May 28, 2018
It is not standalone story and does the book end on a cliffhanger.
Eric Rawlins is a broken man. Still reeling from the L.S.A’s betrayal and then the death of his lover, Eric is struggling with his new responsibilities in north London. When a proposition from the Government heightens the stakes, Eric very quickly finds himself faced with a choice that could change the destiny of the entire country.
Eric knows that he has to step up and become the hero that those closest to him are convinced that he can be, but a deadly confrontation with the L.S.A’s new special agent leaves his belief in tatters.
Meanwhile, unknown to Eric, Adam awakens to once again find himself a pawn in Ivan Williams’ play for power.
BOOK 4 - NEW RELEASE
Book Title: Broken World
Length: 87 569 words
Release Date: July 8, 2022
It is not a standalone story. It does not end on a cliffhanger.
Warning for some readers: This novel contains a brief non-graphic depiction of a suicide attempt, which may be a trigger for some readers.
Eric Rawlins has made the people of England a promise. That he will stand for them against Ivan Williams and the L.S.A, but with politics and agendas threatening to dictate his every move, Eric struggles to find allies that he can trust.
When a daring mission to rescue Adam’s staff goes awry, Eric finds that he is starting to question himself in ways that shake him to the very core. Whilst grappling with his inner turmoil, Eric can also see that Adam is struggling against his own demons.
As the pressure begins to build, Eric takes the fight to Williams. However, Adam’s dangerous obsession with revenge threatens to not only put the entire operation in jeopardy, but his relationship with Eric too.
Excerpt from Broken World
Adam moved as soon as the L.S.A agents did. He slammed into Elle and knocked her to the ground. As the gunfire started, Adam kept her covered with his own body. Beneath him her screams were barely audible over the shooting. It was not just coming from the White Tower, but from the opposite direction where the barracks had been located.
Then he felt a hand on his arm. Glancing up he was relieved to see Eric leaning down over them. Adam reacted immediately. He got to his feet and dragging Elle up with him, Adam pushed her into Eric’s arms.
“Go!” he snapped when he saw how Eric hesitated. “I’ll be right behind you!”
Lifting Elle up off the ground, Eric started to run back towards the bridge and Perses. The gunfire began to fade into the background as the L.S.A seemed to now be concentrating on whoever it was who had started shooting at them.
They had passed the ruins of the Bell Tower when it happened. Adam felt something crash into him, and he was thrown back into the masonry. Pain exploded from his left shoulder and travelled all the way down his arm.
“Eric!” he tried to shout, but the pain had robbed his voice of its strength and his boyfriend’s name came out as a choked whisper.
“I’m afraid he’s long gone,” Neil’s sneering figure appeared in Adam’s line of vision. “It’s just you and me!”
Neil reached down and dragged Adam back to his feet by his good arm. He looked battered and almost deranged. Neil’s nose was still bleeding and when he spoke Adam could see blood staining his teeth red. His eyes were wild and one of his pupils was enlarged. There was blood in his hair, matting the blond against his head. Still despite all this, he seemed supercharged with his fury. All of it was directed at Adam.
“Dad’s going to be pretty pissed off about this mess!” Neil snarled as he started to pull Adam back towards where Traitor’s Gate had once stood. “But maybe if I bring him you, he will be more inclined to look passed all of this!”
Adam tried to dig his heels into the ground, to make it as difficult for Neil as possible but his struggles barely seemed to make a difference.
“Eric!” he croaked into his radio. As soon as he spoke, Neil lunged forwards and ripped it from his ear. Suddenly free, Adam drew back whilst his uninjured hand went for his gun. Neil was on him before he could raise the weapon. He struck Adam hard around the side of the head. Pain blossomed from the impact as he once more fell to the ground. The cry that escaped Adam as he landed amused Neil. His snarl twisted into a sadistic grin as he once more hauled Adam back to his feet. For a few seconds, the pain forced Adam let himself be dragged through the former Traitor’s Gate site and towards the river.
If he gets me back into south London, then it’s all over…
Adam renewed his struggling. He could not move his left arm and Neil still had hold of his right, so he quickly changed tactics. Using his momentum to push himself closer to the other man, Adam brought his knee up between Neil’s legs with as much force as he could muster. Neil yelled angrily, but he did not let Adam go as he doubled over. His action jerked Adam off his feet, and he would have fallen had Neil not kept his hold on his arm.
“You’re going to fucking pay for that!” Neil screamed furiously as he slammed Adam against the metal railings that cordoned off the Thames from the Tower of London site. One hand still held Adam firmly in place whilst the other closed around his throat.
Adam gasped. Pinned between Neil’s body and the railing, he was unable to move more than a token struggle. He tried to pull his arm free, but with the pressure on his neck increasing Adam was finding it impossible to breathe. Neil loomed over him, and he was close enough that Adam could see the red lines streaking through the whites of his eyes. He was not trying to kill Adam, just force him into unconsciousness. This thought gave him little comfort. If he was taken back to the L.S.A headquarters, then he would be dead by the end of the day.
Adam’s vision was starting to blur, and he had stopped fighting. He could feel the cold press of the railing at his back and the metal shaking under their combined weight.
“Neil...” Adam choked out with the last of his strength. “The railing…”
Yet as he spoke, he felt it give way. Adam shot his arm out, trying to reach for something - anything - to save him, but his hand closed around nothing other than air. As he felt himself falling, Neil drew back and managed to catch his footing right on the edge. The sight of him stumbling onto the firmer ground was the last thing Adam saw as he hit the water. Immediately as the cold river enveloped him, Adam fought for the surface. However, with only the use of one arm, he was unable to break his head above the water. Feebly he tried to kick, but his already oxygen-starved lungs could not take anymore. Adam barely had a moment to feel afraid before he blacked out.
Shari Sakurai is a British author of paranormal, horror, science fiction and fantasy novels that almost always feature a LGBTQ protagonist and/or antagonist. She has always loved to write and it is her escape from the sometimes stressful modern life!
Aside from writing, Shari enjoys reading, watching movies, listening to (loud!) music, going to rock concerts and learning more about other societies and cultures. Japanese culture is of particular interest to her and she often incorporates Japanese themes and influences into her work.
Shari loves a challenge and has taken part and won the National Novel Writing Month challenge thirteen times!
Deception is new to Greyson and Morgen, but they’ll soon learn it has surrounded them all along.
Blurb
Greyson Variusdraconis is a newly shifted dragon searching for purpose. Growing up in the Consilium Veneficus, his tutors taught him not to trust Fate. Raised by his elder brother who serves their king directly, Greyson still lives under his sibling’s roof. King Varius recently signed a treaty, so Greyson’s job is guarding wizards. Greyson finds it boring, and he worries his brother will never accept his desire to avoid a political arranged marriage.
As a child, Morgen Bassett struggled to find his footing. Two centuries later, the wizard works in a tiny library, lacks family, and has a rented room barely large enough for its furniture. Although Morgen’s early education included mentions of matebonds, the split between the Council of Sorcery and Shifters and the Consilium changed everything. With no promise of his other half or anything else, Morgen is doing little more than surviving.
On an otherwise normal trip to the supermarket, Greyson and Morgen meet, and neither man is prepared for the force of their connection. Not long after the sparks fly between them, Greyson accepts a mission to infiltrate the Draconis High Court of D’Vaire. The pair will have to find a way to stay together. Should they be successful in gaining entry, they’ll also need to learn how to unearth all the D’Vaire secrets. However, Greyson and Morgen will soon find that nothing about their lives is what it seems.
Excerpt
When Morgen lifted to his toes and tilted his chin up for a kiss, Greyson’s mouth landed on the wizard’s, and he tugged him into his arms for a hug. Everything in Greyson settled for a minute, then his worry over the conversation they needed to have filled his senses again.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Was there traffic?” Morgen asked, stepping away from Greyson and leading him to his room.
“No, my brother wanted to talk to me.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I hope so,” Greyson said. “Sit on the bed with me.”
Once Morgen was settled on the bed next to Greyson, he gently pushed some of his bangs out of the wizard’s unique eyes. There was concern in them, and Greyson wanted to alleviate it, so he got straight to the point.
“I’m being sent on assignment in a few weeks. King Varius and my brother are going to help me get into the sanctuary at D’Vaire. We need to figure out how to recruit dragons. Either we discover D’Vaire is not what it seems, or I study the Council to find the weak points so we can advertise that the Council is inferior to the Consilium. They want me to stay until I gain everyone’s trust, so they expect I’ll be gone for many months or longer.”
Morgen’s gaze hit his lap, and he exhaled heavily. Instead of putting his hand into Greyson’s as he usually did, Morgen clasped them together and put them between his legs.
“You’re leaving?”
“In a couple of weeks, yes,” Greyson said. “It has me thinking about us. We don’t know everything about each other after a week, but we’re both determined to learn more. We’re united in following what our souls and Fate are telling us. I’d hoped someday to ask you to move to Court Varius. Today at lunch, I was looking around online and found that there’s a library within biking distance from my brother’s house. I thought it could possibly be a good place for you to work if you wanted.”
“I biked to work prior to finding this room.”
The words were soft, and Morgen still wouldn’t look at him.
“Come to D’Vaire with me. We could work on our relationship while I handle my assignment. We’ll potentially be there for a long time. I bet we’ll be ready to seal our bond before we learn the things King Varius wants to know. When we return to Court Varius, we could be bonded mates. My brother wouldn’t be able to say shite about political marriages or anything else. We’d be together, and he’d have to accept it.”
Morgen’s head lifted, and he stared at Greyson for several seconds, then he bit his bottom lip. “You want me to go with you?”
“Didn’t I just ask you to? Of course I do. Think about it. Our only job would be research. That’s something we both love, and we’d be together the whole time. We’d get to learn everything about each other, and these feelings we’re building would grow.”
“How could I go?”
“We’ll figure it out. I promise. There’s no question that I’ll leave here without you. I can’t say no to my king, but I think I can be pretty convincing. You do seem to like me.”
With a small smile, Morgen reached over and slipped his hand into Greyson’s. “There’s nothing keeping me bound to my job or this room. I don’t like the idea of springing us on your brother when we get back, though.”
“We’ll tell him before we make the trip home. No worries. We’ll figure out the best way to tackle the entire situation as a team. What do you say? Do you want to handle this secret mission with me?”
“As long as you promise I get to take a trip to the Spectra Library.”
“I’m not leaving the Council without seeing it either,” Greyson assured him. “What do you say we get some takeaway and start our research?”
“A kiss could sway me.”
Greyson grinned. His fingers danced over Morgen’s jaw, his lovely lips, then Greyson settled his mouth on the wizard’s. Morgen touched his tongue to Greyson’s, and all thoughts of subterfuge, D’Vaire, and giant libraries flowed out of his brain.
About the Author
Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.
Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.
