Lesbian Rapist; FREE Gay Excerpt: Second Chance

Lesbian Rapist

This is an interesting case because it almost slipped through the cracks, at the expense of a victim who was left psychologically damaged for life. In 2010 a lesbian, Millicent Gaika, was raped because she was a lesbian. The rapist, Andile Ngcoza, claimed he raped her to “show her she was a woman.” He not only raped her, but beat, strangled and tortured her for five hours. He was convicted in 2011 but failed to show up in court for sentencing and then vanished for two years. Evidently, they caught him and he was recently sentenced to 22 years in prison.

In final court proceedings this week, prosecutors at Wynberg Magistrate’s Court not only pointed out Ngcoza had three previous sexual attack convictions including sodomy and double rape, but also presented a psychological evaluation on Gaika.

The report revealed the attack left Gaika with nightmares and alcohol abuse issues. She also reportedly nearly killed herself in 2012.

It’s a good thing I’m not a judge. He’d be in prison for the rest of his life.

You can read the entire story in detail here.

FREE Gay Excerpt: Second Chance

Here’s a free excerpt from my newest indie release, Second Chance, which will be an ongoing series for a while. The theme behind the series deals with gay men getting second chances in life…but only if they want them. It’s also about choices, and how we often wonder about them sometimes…and wonder how things might have turned out if we’d made other choices.

Here’s the blurb for the first book, a 21,000 word novella that will be priced at .99. The book will be up for sale this weekend, and I’ll post links to where it’s being sold later today.

In this first novella of the Second Chance series, an older gay man who has lived a closeted life for ninety-two years is presented with choices one last time. Who hasn’t wondered how things might have turned out if only they’d made one or two different choices in their lives? Who hasn’t contemplated what it would be like for the chance to do things all over again a different way, if only that were possible?

When ninety-two year old Andy Walker shuffles out to his beloved vegetable garden one morning in June, he gets the surprise of his life. He winds up in the last place he could ever imagine, with the man of his dreams telling him there’s still time for a second chance and there’s still time for him to choose a different path than the one he’s already followed…but only if he’s willing to take the risk and revisit one of the most pivotal and painful moments of his life. There are no guarantees or promises of happily-ever-after, and no one can make Andy’s choices for him. And if he agrees to return to the year 1950 when he was still young and strong and handsome, only he will know whether or not it’s possible to alter the course of his entire life thanks to one unusual encounter with a stranger named Chip.


Even though Andy Walker would be turning ninety-three years old in a couple of weeks he wasn’t the kind of old man who could sit in a chair and stare out a window all day. In spite of numerous requests to move into one of those assisted living facilities from his only living relative, a seventy year old niece who lived in Chicago and visited two or three times a year, Andy planned to die at the ranch in Montana where he’d lived most of his life.

He still had decent eyesight, his hearing wasn’t that bad on a good day, and he only needed a cane on days when his hip really bothered him. He had a cleaning woman twice a week who did laundry, prepared meals, and went over the entire house. And a caretaker who mowed, weeded, white-washed, and handled what Andy didn’t feel safe doing anymore. He even drove into town two or three times a week in the same Jeep Cherokee he’d had for over twenty-five years.

Andy wasn’t a profound or deeply religious man. The one thing he’d noticed as he’d passed through life was the way he kept losing things that seemed so insignificant when he’d been younger, but continued to grow more important as he’d aged. He’d started out noticing he’d lost a cheap tie clip, or a pair of cuff links, or a page of sheet music he’d once enjoyed playing. Then one day he noticed he was losing his hair at the temples. By the time he noticed he’d lost the tight skin tone on his thighs and everything sagged and creased, he decided to hold on to the things over which he had control for as long as possible.

One of those things was his small vegetable garden next to the barn where Andy and his late wife had once boarded and trained horses. When Andy and Sarah June Walker had purchased the working ranch in western Montana many years earlier thanks to a cash wedding gift from his in-laws, Andy had always found time to plant a small vegetable garden in a long narrow section near the barn he’d surrounded with a white picket fence and chicken wire. The garden became his sanity sometimes. He would go there to forget about all he’d missed in life and all he’d sacrificed to do the right thing. In his case, doing the right thing had been marrying a nice girl he’d gotten into trouble one night when he’d been too drunk to remember what he’d been doing. When the baby that had changed the entire course of his life was delivered still born he was already married and there wasn’t much to do but settle into the life he’d chosen.

It wasn’t a bad life, not by any means. Although Sarah June never wanted another child, she made a good home, handled a good deal of work at the ranch that would have made most women scowl, and she had a sharp sense of humor that could always make Andy smile. He got her through breast cancer when she was in her forties; she got him through the burst appendix that almost took him at fifty-two years old. They had friends from Sarah June’s church with whom they went out to dinner, they had an annual Christmas party each year the first weekend in December, and they took a trip to Florida every winter when things were slow at the ranch.

When Sarah June first suggested they get twin beds because she claimed Andy tossed and turned too much in the middle of the night, Andy just shrugged and agreed. They’d been married fifteen years by then. He’d wanted to suggest it first but didn’t know how she’d react. A few years after that, Sarah June claimed it would be best for them to have separate bedrooms altogether because his snoring kept her up late at night. Andy didn’t mind this either. He moved into the guest room overlooking the barn that same night and never left.

It would have been a nice, easy life had it not been for the daydreams and the thoughts he often had whenever he saw one of the cowboys on the ranch wearing a tight pair of jeans move his legs a certain way. These thoughts had always been there, unnatural and cutting to the deepest part of his soul. And he’d always forced them out of his mind because he’d always been told they were wrong. And in the same respect, he’d always hired the best looking, most rugged, handsome young men to work at the ranch. Though he never actually admitted any of this aloud to anyone, he couldn’t help those strong feelings that stirred deeply in his body as he watched the rough young men lope to and from the barn with their scuffed up cowboy boots. In the summer he had to wear dark glasses a good deal of the time because the young men always removed their shirts on the hottest days, which could be both distracting and dangerous if he was working with machinery.

So Andy found two releases that kept him from acting on these strong urges: one release of a more carnal nature made him feel guilty when he was finished, the second made him feel as if he’d accomplished something worthwhile and created something no one else could. The second release was the garden, where he could turn nothing into something. It changed all the time; each year he planted a different variety of vegetables. And when he was down on his hands and knees digging in the dirt he found it was the only place he could forget all about his attraction toward other men and lose himself in something that was simple and mindless…and yet at the same time as natural as his attraction toward other men.

This particular year, he’d only planted a few tomatoes and peppers. There was only so much a ninety-two year old man could do, even if he was still as thin as he’d been when he was twenty-five. There was only so much he could eat. As it was he knew he’d wind up giving away most of the tomatoes and peppers at the end of the summer to his hired help and friends in town. But he didn’t mind because he didn’t garden to eat the vegetables. He gardened to grow and nurture and fill a void.

On a Wednesday morning in early June that year, only weeks before his ninety-third birthday, he set his coffee mug in the kitchen sink and headed out to the garden to see if the rains from the night before had done any damage. No one came to the house on Wednesdays. The cleaning woman worked at another house on Wednesdays and the caretaker came on Thursdays to mow and trim. He didn’t mind being alone, because no one would be around to remind him to take the damn cane that always seemed to slow him down more than help him move faster. All the people around him seemed to be fixated with him using the cane. Even the niece in Chicago ended her weekly Sunday afternoon phone call with, “And don’t forget to use that cane, Uncle.”

As he headed out the back door that Wednesday morning, he glanced at the cane leaning against the old Formica countertop that had been there since the 1940’s and flipped his middle finger. Then he lifted his head, squared his back, and headed down to the barn on his own two feet, the way he’d been walking around all his life. He’d learned that if he concentrated on his footing and looked down while he walked he didn’t stagger and sway as much.

At least he still had his mind after all these years. And he was only going down to the barn to make sure the slope that had been forming from weeks of heavy rain hadn’t washed out his freshly planted tomatoes and peppers. He could have waited for the caretaker to do it, but Andy had always found this particular caretaker to be clumsy and reckless and Andy didn’t want this guy’s big fat fingers bending or snapping the new plants.

As he rounded the corner of the huge barn that had once held more than forty horses, he grabbed the gate and held it tightly as he opened it so he wouldn’t slip in the mud. He wasn’t worried about falling and breaking a hip as much as he was worried about falling and breaking a hip and having to listen to everyone tell him it wouldn’t have happened if he’d had his cane. So he wound up taking extra precautions that morning.

By the time he reached the small garden with the white picket fence, he walked as if he were doing a slow two-step dance. At first, everything looked okay. Then he glanced to the back end of the small garden and noticed the slope had grown deeper and filled with water to the point where most of the plants on that end wouldn’t survive if he didn’t do something fast. He turned and made his way back to the barn taking quick short steps through the slippery mud. In the barn, he found a shovel and the cut-off bottom half of an old Clorox bottle he’d once used to spread rock salt in the wintertime.

The shovel helped him walk back to the garden without making him feel as if he’d been reduced to using a cane, and the Clorox bottle would help him scoop out the excess water and give the plants time to dry out. But when he rested the shovel against the white picket fence and leaned forward with the Clorox bottle in his right hand, he lost his balance, fell face forward into the trench filled with water, and then everything around him went blank.


When he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in the middle of a large mirrored room, with silvery white floors, an open ceiling exposing the brightest blue sky he’d ever seen, and a few puffy clouds that reminded him of snow drifts. When he glanced to his right at one of mirrored walls and realized he was naked, he pressed his palm to his throat and blinked. He wasn’t a naked old man either. He saw the nude image of what he had once looked like as a young man in his early thirties. For a moment, he just stood there and stared at his thick dark hair, his lean chest and stomach muscles, and the firm skin tone on his legs.

But when he glanced straight ahead and realized he wasn’t alone, he quickly covered his private parts and flung another naked young man a terrified glance. The other naked young man sat shamelessly atop a long white table with ornately carved cabriolet legs and ball and clawed feet swinging his legs back and forth. His expression suggested playful arrogance, as if he were ready to take on a dare. He had dark unruly hair and rough stubble. His features were a combination of rough and tender, with a strong chin and soft eyes. The lines and details on the white table were as delicate and subtle as the lines that followed the naked young man’s muscles and curves. Although Andy knew he had never met this young man, he seemed oddly familiar and couldn’t quite place him. He reminded Andy of someone he’d known many years earlier, but not exactly.

The young man sent Andy a knowing smile and adjusted his position on the desk. As he spread his legs wider, he said, “There’s no need to be embarrassed. We don’t wear clothes here. Everyone gets used to it in time.” He had a smooth even voice, the voice of a well-trained actor.

“Well I do wear clothes,” Andy said. “Can I get a robe or something?”

“It’s all relative, man,” said the naked man. “You’ll get used to it.”

Andy kept his palms over his private parts and glanced up and down at the young naked man’s strong fuzzy legs. “Who are you and what am I doing here?”

The young man smiled again and reached back with both arms to rest the weight of his upper body on his palms. He seemed as if he wanted to show off his private parts. “Welcome to The Department of Second Chances. You can call me Rory, Andy, and I’ll be your guide for as long as you’re here.”

“My guide?”

“That’s right, Andy. I’m your guide.”

Andy felt a sting in his chest. Oh, he’d always hoped he wouldn’t lose his mind in his old age. And now his worst fear had come true. “How do you know my name?”

“I know everything about you, Andy,” Rory said. He seemed cocky now, with his head tilted sideways and one eyebrow higher than the other as if he were about to dare Andy to jump from a bridge.

“Wait a minute,” Andy said. “I know you. You’re that actor who once played James Dean, the one who was in the movie I just saw the other night on TV.” He’d always been bad with names of celebrities, politicians, and film titles. Andy had seen several of this actor’s films and he’d found him interesting in that scruffy, slightly messy way that had always attracted him the most. Although the actor was straight, he often played gay roles.

Rory laughed and shook his head. “Not really. I only look like him right now. We try to accommodate new arrivals by giving them guides that resemble people they are either attracted to or feel the most comfortable with. In your case, we decided this would be the best look since you’ve been so attracted to the young actor. We also know this actor reminds you of someone from your past.” He winked this time, as if he knew all of Andy’s deepest secrets.

Andy felt a pull in his stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. No one had ever confronted him about his deepest desires for men this way and he didn’t know how to react. There was a man from Andy’s past and the young actor did remind Andy of him, but Andy had never shared this information with anyone. “I only like the guy’s movies, is all. He’s very talented. I’m not attracted to other men.”

 “Awe c’mon, Andy,” Rory said, with the slick voice of a used car salesman. “There’s no need to play games with me, buddy. We already know everything there is to know about you. We’ve been keeping records from the day you were born until the day you died.”

“I Died?”

Russian Cops Gay Porn; FREE Give-Away FREE Excerpt

Russian Cops; Gay Porn

Evidently, the treatment of gays gets even worse in Russia than what we read about in mainstream headlines. According to this article in Gay Star News, Russian cops were recently fired for filming gay prison porn scenes and what sounds like the alleged exploitation of prisoners and gay men. According to another article, two films were made, on cell phones, and uploaded online. One involved a drunken prisoner, the other a gay rape scene.

On both occasions, the officers were stood filming the scenes on their phones.

You can read more here.

The officers were fired last year, and charged with negligence and illegal production of pornographic materials, punishable with up to two years in prison.

However, they eventually got away with fines of between 25,000 rubles and 45,000 rubles ($790 and $1,420), the report said.

And more here.

It’s hard to comment on this because there are so many different angles. But I do think it’s interesting that there’s a market for this kind of gay exploitation in Russia and I can’t help wondering if that has something to do with the fact that the Russian government treats gays so poorly. In other words, the more taboo something is the more in demand it usually becomes. Frankly, I’d like to know more of the back story. But I doubt we’ll get anything in detail on this topic from Russia.

FREE Give-Away FREE Excerpt

I’ll be posting about a free give-away I’m doing this weekend with a romance marketing company, Personalized Marketing. It’s actually a blog hop called Fall Into Romance, but I hate to call these things hops because they tend to freak readers out. It’s really just a way for readers to get a chance to win a few prizes. All you have to do is check for my post later this evening and follow a few simple directions. There’s also going to be an early bird contest today to win something for free. Read more to find out how to win a free e-book today.

From my inbox:

Early Bird Prize Contest…

Personalized Marketing is giving one lucky person who comments today only a choice of a Free eBook from one of the Guest List below. To be entered all you have to do is Comment today Oct 25th with the name of your Choice of Author and the Title you love the most!

The winner of the Early Bird will be announced the last day of the Blog Hop.. Good Luck and Have Fun!

As far as I know, and I didn’t know about this early bird contest until a minute ago, you can click this link, leave a comment, and choose an author of your choice for a chance to win a free e-book. It’s really a bonus prize for readers and no one knew about it until just this morning.

I’ll keep updating, and look for my post later this evening about the main contest where I’ll be giving away two free e-books from the Bad Boy Billionaire series. (Those books are also subject to change if the winner has already read them…it happens and I’m flexible about those things 🙂

Free Excerpt: Glendora Hill’s Sheriff and the Outlaw

This is from the first book in the new western romance series I’m doing for ravenous romance that’s going to be set in the fictional Texas Hill Country town of Glendora Hill. The series, unlike any other I’ve done in the past, will have books that focus on the little town of Glendora Hill, and each book will be told from a different POV by one of the characters who live in Glendora Hill. This first book, The Sheriff and the Outlaw, is coming from Sebastian Holt’s POV. He’s a recently widowed young gay man, with a teenage son, very little money, and he’s trying to start a new life in Glendora Hill on a limited budget. Many characters will be reappearing in each book. This excerpt, unlike most I post here on the blog, has been through one round of edits, but it’s still in revision.

 Chapter Seven

On the Friday of Labor Day weekend, a dozen more round boxwoods arrived at nine in the morning from a local nursery. Sebastian was walking Kick to the front door at the time, and when he saw the nursery truck pull up to the curb he groaned, put his arm around Kick, and said, “I’m not looking forward to doing that today in this heat.” He also wasn’t looking forward to paying for the boxwoods either. His funds were running low and he knew he shouldn’t have ordered more shrubs until the saddle shop was open and money was coming in. But everything in Glendora Hill was so perfect and manicured he didn’t want his place to look dowdy. He’d even repainted the white porch swing one more time that week so it would be brighter and shinier than the others in town.

          “If you want to wait, Dad, I can do it when I get home from work tonight,” Kick said. This was the last weekend before school started that Kick would be working full time at the hardware store. After that, he would work part time, on weekends and a few days after school, which would mean his paycheck would be less. He’d been saving his paycheck at the local bank all summer, in a savings account Sebastian had encouraged him to start as a college fund. One of the things Dan and Sebastian had discussed before Dan’s death was that they both wanted Kick to go to college and make something of his life. Sebastian was determined to steer Kick in that direction no matter what it took.

          “I thought you were going to the movies again tonight with your friends,” Sebastian said, watching the older man remove the most perfect boxwoods he’d seen yet. At least he was getting his money’s worth. They were identical to the shrubs he’d already planted along the front porch.  

          “I don’t have to go,” Kick said. “I can hang around here with you tonight and plant these. I don’t mind.”

          Sebastian pulled Kick closer and said, “I want you to go out and have fun tonight. This is the last weekend before school starts. Trust me, you won’t be having that much fun a week from now. Besides, I don’t have that much to do anyway. I just dread digging holes in this heat.” There had been a heat wave passing through all week. It was supposed to break that night, and Sebastian was hoping the weather reports were accurate. The grand opening for the saddle shop was tomorrow and although the shop was air conditioned, he’d planned several of the events outside in the driveway under a huge white tent he’d rented.

          “You sure?” Kick said.

          Sebastian gave him a push forward and smiled. “Get moving or you’ll be late. I’ll see you later this evening.”

          Kick hugged him fast and started down the sidewalk. As he crossed the street, he sent Sebastian a glance and waved.

          “Have a good day,” Sebastian shouted, and then he went down to meet the guy from the nursery.

          After he paid the man, he went around back to get the wheel barrow and shovel from the garage. There was a small pile of mulch next to the side door of the garage that had been left over from the previous plantings out front. He was glad he’d ordered a few extra yards of mulch just in case. The pile next to the door looked to be just the right amount needed to finish the boxwoods that would flank both sides of the front walkway.

          This time he decided to wear gloves instead of using his bare hands. The last time he’d planted something he hadn’t worn them and the blisters on his palms lasted for over a week. He knew he’d seen a few old pairs of gardening gloves in the garage somewhere when he’d been placing his uncle’s personal belongings in storage, only he didn’t remember exactly where he’d seen them.

          He rummaged around the dusty old garage, pushing spider webs away, making mental notes about how this mess of a garage would be the next project he would tackle.  But when he shoved a few old terra cotta pots on a shelf to one side, he spotted a black shoebox with a white label taped to the side that read, “Sebastian.” The gardening gloves were on top of the old shoebox and he was surprised he hadn’t noticed the box earlier. He must have been too busy cleaning up to see it. So much of that summer had become a blur because he’d been so eager to get everything in order.

          He pulled the shoebox and the gloves off the shelf and sat down on a wooden stool next to a stack of boxes that contained mostly old clothing that had belonged to his uncle. He’d planned to donate them to the Methodist church in town, but not until he went through all the pockets. Then he removed the lid from the box and gaped as he looked inside. It seemed to be filled with old photos of him that he never even knew he’d posed for. They were photos of him from the time he started kindergarten until the day he graduated from high school. All of them had something written on the back that stated where they had been taken, the date they had been taken, and Sebastian’s age at the time they’d been taken. As Sebastian glanced from photo to photo, as if viewing a consolidated version of his childhood, he remained gutted and slack-jawed.

          Sebastian knew his parents hadn’t taken these photos and sent them to his uncle. First, they didn’t speak to the uncle, and second, his parents never took more than one or two photos of him in his life. They’d always been the practical types: they took photos at major life events like graduations and weddings, and not even then most of the time. But never photos of him playing in swings or running onto the baseball field when he’d been in Little League.

          At the very bottom of the box, Sebastian gasped and shook his head. The photos of him continued through his adult years. There were photos of him with Dan and Kick playing catch outside their trailer in Houston. There were photos of him with Dan and Kick putting up a trellis in a small section of property behind the trailer that caused Sebastian’s eyes to sting. The memory of that afternoon overwhelmed him to the point where he had to stop and take a deep breath. Most of the photos of his life with Dan were digital, and the few he did have he wasn’t in because he’d been taking the photos of Dan and Kick.

          When he finally viewed the last photo in the box, he returned it to the box, closed the lid, and set it on a large cardboard box so he would remember to bring it into the house when he was finished planting the shrubs. But he sat there for a few minutes trying to figure out why his uncle had taken those photos, and why he’d kept them hidden in a shoebox all these years.

          While he was digging and planting the shrubs, he realized inheriting the property in Glendora Hill hadn’t been an accident. If his uncle had been watching him from a distance all those years, he’d known what he was doing when he left everything in his estate to Sebastian. Although he dreaded the thought of doing this, he would have to phone his parents at the ranch to see if they knew anything. He figured they would be the only people who might have a clue.

          But he had too many other things to deal with that Friday, and digging shrubs was more important than digging up the past. By the time he finished spreading a final layer of mulch around the last boxwood with a rusted old pitchfork, he heard a car pull up to the curb and a man said, “Looking good.”

          He turned and smiled before he even knew who it was. When he saw the sheriff smiling back at him, he said, “I do my best, sheriff.” He was only wearing a pair of basketball shorts and running shoes because of the heat. He had a feeling the sheriff was looking at everything but the shrubs he’d just planted.

          “Not bad for an outlaw,” the sheriff said. “And you can call me Avery. Sheriff makes me sound so much older and meaner.”

          Sebastian doubted the man had a mean cell in his entire body. He stuck the pitchfork in the grass and said, “And you can call me Sebastian instead of outlaw. That makes me sound shady and sinister.”

          Avery smiled and shook his head. “I have a feeling you can be sinister when you want to be.”

          Sebastian could tell by his tone he was joking. “I have my moments. Will I see you tomorrow at the grand opening? It wouldn’t be the same without the local sheriff here.”

          Avery put the car in gear and said, “Oh, you can count on it.” Then he tipped his cowboy hat, hit the gas, and made a U-turn toward the other end of town.

My Releases on Allromanceebooks.com; FREE Excerpt Sheriff and Outlaw

My Releases on Allromanceebooks.com

As I’ve posted previously, getting back listed books up on web sites where digital books are sold is not as simple as it sounds…especially if the back list is long. We finally put up most of the former loveyoudivine.com titles on ARe, and here’s a list of those that went live today.


Another Regular Bud (Sequel to “A Regular Bud”)

A Young Widow’s Promise (This was originally published under “R. Field” because it’s not gay fiction and the publisher thought it was important to do. I decided to keep it with my won name this time. It is a historical with hetero main characters, but there is a gay subplot.)

A Regular Bud

A Life Filled with Awesome Love (This is a long 12,000 word short story, or a short novella.)

FREE Excerpt Sheriff and Outlaw

Here’s the raw (unedited) version excerpt of a new full length novel I just submitted to the publisher today, The Sheriff and the Outlaw.


When Sebastian loses his wonderful husband of ten years in an accident, he’s not only emotionally devastated, but also financially ruined. He can’t turn to family because they turned their backs on him when he told them he was gay, and Sebastian’s late husband owed so much he’s about to lose everything, including the mobile home he spent so many years making perfect. But just when Sebastian thinks there’s no hope at all, he inherits the meager estate of a distant uncle he’s never even met.

The fictional town of picturesque Glendora Hill, Texas appears to be perfect, which is exactly what Sebastian and his teenage son need after all the heartache they’ve gone through. But it’s not going to be easy. And as they begin to make new lives in this odd but friendly little town so far from their lives in Houston, Sebastian stops playing by the rules for a while. That is until the town’s cowboy sheriff, Avery Baldwin, confronts Sebastian about a few rules he’s overlooked.

As Sebastian rebuilds his life and the dilapidated property he inherited, with perfectly pruned shrubbery, a bright white porch swing, and two very strapping young studs he takes in as tenants, he also discovers a few secrets about his past through the one man who seems to understand him. And as the secrets of Sebastian’s childhood unfold and emotions he thought were dead forever begin to reawaken, he’s terrified of the only man who can actually help him move forward.
           By that time Sebastian knew the sheriff wasn’t a mean man. He smiled and signed the check. As he handed it to Avery across the desk he said, “I can see I’m not going to win with you. Is that all?”
            “Just one more thing,” Avery said. “You’ll have to write a check for a sign fee.”
            “A sign fee?”
            Avery laughed. “There’s a two hundred dollar fee for hanging a business sign out front. All the businesses in town are required to pay it. But that’s only a one-time fee.”
            Sebastian made a face and ripped another check from his black leather folder. He made the check out to the Borough of Glendora Hill, signed it, and handed it over to Avery.
            “I almost forgot,” Avery said. “This one is the most important. There’s the sheriff’s fee, too.”
            “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sebastian said. So far all these ridiculous fees were starting to sound like one huge scam to him.
            “Seriously,” Avery said. “In order to date the sheriff you have to pay another fifty dollars.”
            It took a moment for Sebastian to realize he was joking. At first he didn’t process it. But when it sank in he smiled at Sheriff Avery Baldwin and said, “What if I pass on that one, and I don’t date the sheriff?”

            “Then the sheriff would have to put you over his knee and spank you,” Avery said, as he cracked his right palm with his left.
            Although Sebastian hadn’t intended to get this personal with the sheriff, he’d never been against a harmless little spanking or flirting. He sent Avery a sideways glance and laughed. “I’ll take the spanking. I have no more money.”
            Avery’s eyebrows went up and he laughed. “I had a feeling you would.”
            Then Sebastian stood up and reached over to shake the sheriff’s hand. He didn’t want to get this personal with anyone. “I really have to get back now. One of my tenants is doing me a favor and planting boxwoods today and I don’t want him doing the work all alone. But it was very interesting meeting you. I hope you come to the grand opening in a few weeks.” He wasn’t flirting. If anything he was trying to be nice without getting any closer to Avery because he felt a connection to him that was hard to explain. Avery was the kind of guy he could get serious with, but he didn’t want to get serious with anyone at that point in his life.
            Avery stood up and took his hand. He held it tightly and said, “What about our date. And the spanking. Don’t forget about that.”
            For such a discreet, conservative man, he had aggressive tendencies Sebastian admired. “I would love to go out with you as soon as the grand opening is over. I have so much work to do right now I’m not even sure what day of the week it is half the time. And, I do have a teenage son and I’d have to explain that to him. He comes first. So for right now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to put dating anyone on hold for a while.”
            Avery released his hand and said, “That’s good enough for me. Actually, I admire that. Good luck with everything, and if you need any help let me know. I’m always willing to lend a helping hand.” He smiled and cracked one palm against the other again.
            As Sebastian turned to leave, he sent Avery a backward glance and said, “I’m sure you are, sheriff. And thanks for everything. I mean that. I was so worried.”
            On his way out he noticed Angie had returned from lunch and he nodded and smiled in her direction. She was pretending to file a few papers but Sebastian had a feeling she’d been trying to listen to his conversation with the sheriff.
            As he headed toward the half door that would lead him into the hallway, Angie said, “I’m looking forward to the grand opening. I’ll be there bright and early with mom and pop.”
            “Thanks,” Sebastian said. “We’ll be open from nine in the morning until six at night, and every day thereafter except for Wednesdays.”
            On the way out of the building, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach all at once. Then his face grew warm and his heart began to race. When it dawned on him this would be the first time in his life he had ever held a full time job it overwhelmed him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t worked hard his entire life taking care of Dan, Kick, and doing the part time retail jobs. And he’d always been a reliable, responsible employee wherever he’d worked. He showed up fifteen minutes early and left fifteen minutes late. He’d even had former employers beg him to work full time because of his work ethic, but Dan had always preferred him working part time and taking care of the house and family things full time. Sebastian had preferred it that way, too. He’d never had the urge to have a career or work full time outside the home in any capacity. And now here he was, pushing thirty, no husband, and this never ending business he’d started looming over his head day and night.
            As he headed back to the parking lot to his car, he was so engrossed in his own thoughts he almost didn’t hear the shout from across the street. The woman who owned the dress shop, the one who had been seeing Judd, was speaking to him and he stopped short and turned to look at her.
            “I’m sorry,” Sebastian said. “I didn’t hear you.”
            “I was just saying that I can’t wait for the grand opening on Labor Day,” she said. She was leaning back against the rail of her front porch, next to a huge urn of red potted geraniums that were so perfect they didn’t look real. He knew they were real. No one in Glendora Hill would have dared plant anything fake.
            “Thanks,” he said. He figured Judd must have told her who he was. “We’re working hard to make it a lot of fun for the whole town.” He was so used to speaking in terms of being part of a couple after all those years of being married, he didn’t realize he’d made this mistake.
            “I’ve heard all about it from Judd,” she said. When she mentioned Judd’s name her expression grew somber, as if she were angry now. “He says you boys are working all the time over there. Judd tells me everything, and I mean everything.”
            If there was one thing most in the world Sebastian hated it was being referred to as a boy. He was a grown man, with a son of his own, not a little boy. Though he felt like correcting her, he didn’t want to get on her bad side, so he forced a smile and said, “Judd’s been a big help. I’m Sebastian, by the way.” He also had no idea about whether or not Judd had mentioned he was bi-sexual and that they were having sex once in a while.
            She sent him a smug grin, turned back toward her dress shop, and said, “Don’t I know it. I’m Luanne.”
            After that comment, she went into the shop without looking back. He had a feeling Judd had said something. So when he returned to the house and found Judd packing dirt around the last boxwood, he parked up front and walked over to him. He glanced at the round boxwoods and said, “They look great. But I told you to wait. I wanted to help.”
            Judd’s entire body was drenched in perspiration by then. It literally dripped down his bulging chest muscles and made wet spots on his jeans. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and said, “I don’t mind, and you can do all the mulching. I have to go into town. I promised a friend I’d have a late lunch with her.”
            Sebastian knew he was talking about the woman who owned the dress shop. “This friend is the woman who owns the dress shop in town, isn’t she? Her name is Luanne.”
            “Yes,” Judd said, setting the shovel done next to the wheel barrow. “The blond woman in her thirties. She’s a great lady.”
            “I know,” Sebastian said. “I spoke to her a few minutes ago when I was leaving the sheriff’s office.”
            “How did that go?” Judd asked. “Did the permits cost a fortune?”
            He wanted to talk about the woman in the dress shop, not the permits. “It wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn’t cheap, but I won’t have to skip a meal yet.”
            “Well that’s good,” he said. He was so sweaty even the bulge in his jeans was damp.
            But Sebastian resisted the urge to flirt with him, in spite of how sexy he looked standing there with no shirt, with dirt all over his hands, dripping in sweat. “I’m curious about something. How much does the woman in the dress shop, Luanne, know about you?”
            It seemed as if Judd caught on to him all at once. He flung Sebastian and glance and said, “She knows I’m bi-sexual. But I never said a word about us. I don’t kiss and tell.”
            Judd seemed excited now, as if he were upset. “Simmer down,” Sebastian said. “I didn’t mean it that way. I know you wouldn’t say anything about us. I just wanted to know if she knew you were bi-sexual.”
            “I had to be honest with her,” Judd said. “It wouldn’t be right not to tell her the truth.”
            Sebastian smiled and reached for his bicep. He squeezed it gently and said, “And that’s what I like most about you, Judd. You’re always honest.”

            “You’re not mad at me for telling her, are you?”
            “Of course not,” Sebastian said. “That’s up to you, and it’s none of my business.” Then he looked to see if anyone was watching. When he knew it was safe, he patted Judd on the bottom and said, “Now go take a shower and get out of here. You’ve done enough hard work for one day. I’ll go up and change and do the mulch alone. I don’t mind. I actually like doing it.”

            A few minutes later, he waved as Judd backed his new pick-up truck out of the driveway. Though he knew Judd was going to visit Luanne, and most likely have sex with her, he felt no jealousy or discomfort. But he was worried about her. Women like her had a sixth sense about men like him, and he knew she suspected he was playing around with Judd even though Judd had never said anything. It wasn’t something Judd had to tell her. She could guess this on her own without having to be told. It didn’t bother Sebastian in a literal sense. He just wanted her to know for certain that what he did with Judd was not leading anywhere, and that he had no intentions of ever getting serious with Judd. The only reason this was important to Sebastian was because he’d seen the look on her face when she’d mentioned Judd, and she clearly had future plans for good old Judd that didn’t include Sebastian.

FREE Excerpt: The Sheriff and the Outlaw

FREE Excerpt: The Sheriff and the Outlaw

This following is a free excerpt from the most recent book, and the title is only tentative right now. This part of a four book western romance series that will focus on cowboys with strong stories. The excerpt is so new I’m actually editing it as I put it up. So keep in mind this hasn’t seen a copy editor yet, and there might be a few changes in the final book.

From Chapter Two:

      As he was about to turn back to clean up the breakfast dishes so he could get to work on the exterior of the building that day, he saw a young man in a cowboy hat stop in front of the building and glance at the front porch. The young man stood there for a moment, with his hands in his pockets, rocking from heel to toe in his cowboy boots. And then he stepped forward, climbed the front steps, and knocked on the door with a solid pound.
            Sebastian set his mug on a table and jogged to the stairway. He was wearing black work-out pants with a white stripe down the sides and a plain white T-shirt. A year earlier, this was an outfit he would have worn for a run on a Saturday morning in the trailer park when Dan was still alive and his biggest worry was whether to plant impatiens or begonias near the front door, or whether to serve steak or chicken to Dan and Hick that night. But that morning he didn’t even bother to put on shoes and socks. He ran down the steps as fast as he could to answer the door, hoping this guy wanted to rent one of the rooms. He needed that source of income in a bad way, and so far no one had inquired about the rooms. He’d begun to worry no one would want to rent a place in that building. It still looked awful from the outside, and he’d only spruced things up to make thing presentable on the inside. He hadn’t even gone through his late uncle’s personal belongings yet because there hadn’t been time. He and Hick had packed up his uncle’s things in boxes and placed them in boxes in the garage out back.
            When he opened the door, a tall young man in his twenties nodded and said, “Howdy, I’m J U double D, Judd, from Lubbock and I’d like to inquire about the room for rent.” He had a deep voice, with a thick Texas accent. Although Sebastian had grown up hearing cowboys say howdy on the ranch, living in Houston all those years had made him unfamiliar with the casual way country people spoke.
            He smiled and said, “Hey, I’m Sebastian. It’s nice to meet you, Judd.”
            “Is the room still for rent,” Judd asked, “Cuz I need a place real badly, bro. I just took a job at the Marshall Ranch, but they don’t have no living arrangements there. They told me to come here and check you out.” He spoke with double negatives in a refreshing, unapologetic way, and dropped all his G’s. 
            “The Marshall Ranch,” Sebastian said, with an invisible question mark at the end. He felt awkward now, because he hadn’t put on shoes and combed his hair.
            “It’s a small place, where they board and train horses,” Judd said. “There ain’t a horse I can’t break.” He pronounced the word can’t as if it rhymed with ain’t.
            Sebastian found it interesting that even though he’d never heard of the Marshall Ranch, they’d heard of him and they knew he had rooms to rent. He’d noticed cars slowing down as they passed the building, and people walking by and murmuring things to each other. He would soon learn word travels much faster than he ever realized in small towns like Glendora. He’d grown up in the country, and lived the better part of his adult life near the city, so he was unfamiliar to small town ways at that point.
            He stepped aside and said, “I’m renting the third floor and fourth floors. If you’d like to see them, I can show them to you right now if you have time. Sorry I look this way. I just woke up and I didn’t expect anyone this early.”
            Judd removed his hat and stepped into the small vestibule that led to a flight of stairs. “Don’t worry about it, bro. You look fine.”
            Sebastian noticed he was a large, tall man, but lean and muscular, too. He had dark brown hair that was short and a little messy on top. He wore a navy blue T-shirt that day that bunched up around his biceps. When he lifted his right arm to remove his hat, his bicep tightened to a rock solid mass that left Sebastian with a weak feeling in his stomach. He hadn’t seen a man with arms like that since the last time he’d gone to his old gym in Houston…when he still had money to afford to go to a gym. Now his workout came from working on the building and lugging tools around all the time. 
            As they climbed to the fourth floor so Sebastian could show him that part of the building first, he noticed how Judd had to turn his feet to the side because his big black cowboy boots didn’t fit on the steps. And with each step he took, the stairs vibrated a little, as if the old building were afraid of him.
            At the top floor, Sebastian followed Judd into the main living space and said, “I’m renting out this floor and the one below it. I plan to make more improvements as soon as I can, but this is basically it for right now, I’m afraid.” He’d painted the walls, waxed the floors, and cleaned and spruced up the furniture as best he could. He’d hung blinds on the windows and bleached the old white tiles in the bathroom to the point where he’d almost passed out from the fumes. But clearly nothing had been done to that small apartment in years and he felt the need to apologize for this.
            After he walked around and checked it all out, Judd said, “It’s big. I thought it was just a room. I’m not sure I need anything this big. I only come and go.” It was the entire fourth floor, which consisted of the same amount of space where Sebastian and Hick lived on the second floor. He’d never rented to anyone before and he hadn’t been sure how to advertise so he’d used the word rooms instead of apartments.
            “I’m sorry,” Sebastian said. “I didn’t mean to mislead you. I just didn’t want people showing up thinking that I was renting out expensive apartments. I’m asking a lot less than the normal rent around here because I know I still have a lot of work to do on the place.”
            Judd smiled and said, “Don’t go getting all upset now. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s nice, actually very nice. I’m just not sure I can afford a place this big, is all. How much you asking?”

Sebastian had checked out what other people were charging for rent in town, and he’d decided to go low because of the condition of the building. When he told Judd the monthly rent, Judd’s eyebrows went up and he said, “That’s not bad at all. You’re only charging that for a place this big?”
Sebastian shrugged. He didn’t want Judd to think he was begging, but he wanted him to know how important it was to get that apartment rented soon. “I need tenants fast because I need the money. And the place isn’t perfect by any means. I also want nice people here that I get along with because my teenage son lives here, too.” Then he went into an abbreviated version of what he’d been through in the past year, partly to let Judd know he was sincere and partly to let him know he was gay. Sebastian had never hidden his sexuality and he wasn’t about to start now. If this big cowboy wanted to live there, he had to be gay friendly. At the end of his dissertation Sebastian added, “I’m not going to hang the rainbow flag out front or anything like that. But I thought it was important that you know I’m gay and that you’re comfortable with it. I know a lot of guys like you aren’t.”

After he mentioned this, he noticed Judd make a face. But he wasn’t sorry he’d said anything. He squared his shoulders, looked Judd in the eye, and waited for him to respond.


Chapter Three

            Judd hesitated for a moment, and said, “Hell, if that’s what you’re worried about, don’t give it a second thought, bro. To be honest, I’ve been wondering about you since you opened the front door. It’s not easy to figure out who is and who isn’t anymore, and I’ve been hoping there were people like me here in Glendora.”

Sebastian’s eyes opened wider. Though he shouldn’t have been surprised, he couldn’t help but stare at the huge muscles in Judd’s arms. Dan had been the kind of gay man who could pass for straight all the time if he’d wanted to pass. That had been one of his most attractive qualities for Sebastian. Just to be clear, Sebastian said, “So you’re gay?”

“Not exactly,” Judd said.

“I don’t understand. You either are or you aren’t.”

Judd laughed. “I’m not sure I do either. Sometimes I think I am, and sometimes I think I’m not. I date women all the time, but then I see a guy like you and I start to wonder again.” He took a step closer and looked directly into Sebastian’s eyes.

“Well, you’re probably bisexual,” Sebastian said. He could feel Judd’s breath on his neck. He was standing close enough to smell soap with which he’d showered that morning. It was something musky and strong. It reminded Sebastian of those body washes he used to buy for Dan when he traveled long distances and had to shower at truck stops.

“Maybe,” Judd said. He smiled and stepped even closer. He placed his hands on Sebastian’s waist and spoke in a low stage whisper. “Or maybe I’m just horny all the time.”

Sebastian’s knees began to feel weak. He glanced down at his bare feet and took a quick breath. His face felt flush, his heartbeat increased, and he couldn’t seem to find his voice.

Judd held his waist tighter and said, “There’s something real nice about you, something sophisticated and special that’s very attractive.”

Sebastian closed his eyes and remained dead still. Men had said things like this to him before and he’d never known how to react. He thought he looked fairly average. He thought he was average. He had sandy blond hair that lightened naturally in the summer, a lean body he kept in shape by doing a basic workout routine, and he stood about five feet eight inches tall in his bare feet. Though he didn’t have much body hair, he trimmed and maintained his pubic hair and the hair on his legs because it made him feel sexy being smooth all over. Dan had liked him this way, and it had become such a part of his daily routine he’d continued to do it after Dan’s death.

Judd pulled him closer and his large hands went lower. He grabbed the upper part of Sebastian’s buttocks and said, “If you want me to stop I will.”

A sense of pure desperation came over Sebastian and he reached up and grabbed Judd’s biceps. They were so large and so hard he couldn’t even get his hands halfway around them. He wasn’t sure what to say or do. His experience with men hadn’t been extensive, and when someone is married to the same man for as long as he was married to Dan and he or she is monogamous the entire time, situations like this feel awkward at best. He squeezed Judd’s biceps harder and said, “I’ve never seen anyone with arms like this, at least not up close anyway. They’re huge.”

Judd’s hands went lower and he rested them in the middle of Sebastian’s ass and flexed his biceps on purpose. “You smell good.”

“I’m a hot mess,” Sebastian said. “I just woke up an hour ago and I haven’t even looked in the mirror yet.” He had a full erection poking through his black sweats now. This was the last thing he’d expected when he’d opened the door to let Judd inside, and the thing he’d been fantasizing about the most for the past few months. He was used to having a man all the time when he’d been married to Dan, and being without one for so long had kept him wide awake late at night wondering if he would ever have sex again. Masturbating to porn left him empty, and he’d never trusted enough to meet men online and have cybersex like so many others were doing these days.

“You look damn good to me,” Judd said. His hands went up, and then down again so he slide them both down the back of Sebastian’s sweat pants and start massaging him with more force.

He tried to control his urges, but he couldn’t resist lowering his head to Judd’s left bicep and running his cheek across the highest arch where the hard muscle rounded. He inhaled his scent, held his breath for a second, and then he pressed his lips to the huge muscle and kissed it.

“Are we alone here?” Judd asked.

With his lips still pressed to Judd’s arm, Sebastian nodded and said, “My son’s at work and he won’t be home until five. We’re all alone.” He wanted to reach down and rub Judd’s crotch but wasn’t sure if that would be too aggressive. The last time he’d had sex with a stranger had been before he’d met Dan, more than ten years earlier, in the back seat of a Volvo.

Judd pulled his hands out of Sebastian’s pants and reached for the bottom of his T-shirt. He pulled it up, over Sebastian’s head, and dropped it on the floor. A moment after that, he pulled Sebastian’s pants down and Sebastian stepped out of them without an argument. Then he grabbed Sebastian by the waist again and pulled him closer so they could kiss. Judd was over six feet four inches tall and he had to lean over a little to meet Sebastian’s lips. But the moment Sebastian lifted his head and their tongues locked, Sebastian threw his arms around Judd’s broad shoulders and all the tension in his body seemed to vanish. There had been so many nights he never thought he’d have sex with a man again, he found it hard to believe this was actually happening.

He felt as if he were swinging from Judd’s shoulders and leaning backward the entire time. The harder Judd kissed him and the faster their tongues moved the more Sebastian wanted him. This complete stranger who had showed up at his home looking for a place to live was too hard to resist. As he held Judd’s shoulders and remained leaning backward, he lifted his right leg and rested his knee against Judd’s black leather belt. The fact that he was completely nude and Judd was still fully clothed only made his heart race faster and his face grow warmer.

It didn’t take long for Judd to reach down, grab Sebastian’s naked bottom, and hoist him up. When he did this, Sebastian wrapped his legs around Judd’s narrow waist and Judd walked back toward the antique oak bed with the tall headboard. In this position, Sebastian’s head was now higher than Judd’s. He’d never been held this way by a man, or carried naked across the room. He wrapped one arm around Judd’s shoulder and the other around his head and they continued to kiss until they reached the bed.

At the foot of the bed Sebastian released his fears and inhibitions when Judd released him and lowered him to the floor again. Judd said nothing as Sebastian went all the way down on his knees and began to unzip his jeans and unbuckle his black belt. While Judd removed his T-shirt, Sebastian took his time on the floor. He buried his face in Judd’s crotch and ran his tongue across the erection confined inside his jeans. He took deep breaths and inhaled Judd’s scent as he unfastened the waistband button. Then he took the waistband of Judd’s white boxer briefs in one hand, pulled it down, and reached into Judd’s pants with the other hand. He grabbed what felt like a nine inch erection, so thick he couldn’t wrap his fingers all the way around it. As he gently pulled it out of Judd’s pants he arched his back, licked his lips, and wrapped his lips around the head.

Dan had been average in size in this department and Judd had never actually been with a man who was this big. Of course he’d seen photos of men with large penises on the Internet, but never thought he would find one of his own. He knew there was no way possible for him to swallow the entire thing, at least not the way he’d done with Dan. So he slowly sucked as much as he could into his mouth and held the bottom of the shaft with his hand.

As he stroked and sucked at the same time, Judd held the sides of his head and whispered a few things he could barely understand. At one point, he thought he heard Judd say, “Oh, man. That’s so nice. It feels so good.” But he could have been mistaken about that.


Free Excerpt: Gay Sex; Straight Women; Public Sex Danny Brown

Public Sex Danny Brown

Rapper, Danny Brown, had oral sex on stage this year and he talked about it everywhere on social media. At the time, he mentioned something about sexual assault. It turned out to be false. From Brown:

I gave up on trying to be a dad to Kitty Pryde. I didn’t want her to write that piece. People get their dicks sucked every day, B. It shouldn’t be a big deal. I just felt embarrassed because I wasn’t all the way hard yet. With a little more time she could have got the full power.

You can read more here, where there are links to Kitty Pryde and a good deal more of what it’s like to be on the road with a rapper. I love rap music. I love these dumb promotional pieces. I found it interesting and highly entertaining to see just how far some will go for attention.

As a side note, I read snark about Danny Brown not being hard, as if this is the most important thing all men are required to do in life. And God forbid they don’t live up to that expectation. That’s sexist against men. You know how most men say, “It’s not you, it’s me,” when things don’t go as planned in bed. Well, most of the time that’s a lie.

Free Excerpt: Gay Sex; Straight Women

I’ve been wanting to post this excerpt from The Women Who Love to Love Gay Romance, but there’s been a lot happening lately. So I decided to make a point of doing it today. The following free excerpt is from a short story trilogy by Bella Stanberry. Because of its adult nature I’ll post the g-rated part here on google blogger and you’ll have to click the link to read the adult version at my other web site, Ryan-Field.com

From the raw unedited version:


On the night of Luke’s twenty-first birthday…the actual date, not a day before or two days later…Gina picked us up in her Mercedes and we drove into Manhattan through the Lincoln Tunnel and parked in an indoor garage in the theater district. Although Luke and I would have been happy to eat near the theater, Gina had flatly refused to “sit with the fucking tourists in a toned down version of what Times Square used to be,” and we took a cab to the trendy restaurant in Chelsea where she’d made reservations. After that, we took another cab back to the theater with barely enough time to take our seats as the curtain went up.
            After the show, we took another cab to a gay bar in Hell’s Kitchen called Therapy, where we ordered a round of martini’s and sang Happy Birthday to Luke. I wondered how he would feel in a gay bar, but he stood there with a casual smile and not a hint of discomfort. While Gina and I were singing, a nice looking guy who reminded me of one of the drunken frat boys who had fucked me on the web cam once walked over to Luke and put his arm on Luke’s shoulder. He smiled and said, “Happy Birthday, handsome.”
            If Luke felt uncomfortable at that moment, he didn’t show it outwardly. He smiled and said, “Thank you.” And then he put his arm around me and said, “My boyfriend took us to the theater tonight to celebrate.”
            Well. No one had informed me I was dating Luke. I rubbed Luke’s stomach and smiled.
            The guy who looked like the drunken frat boy sent me a snarky glance and said, “Isn’t thatnice.” Then he left without another word, never to be seen again.
            When the nasty little guy was gone, and I realized Luke’s arm was still around me, I glanced at Luke and asked, “What was that all about, boyfriend?”
Gina laughed and said, “Pretend you’re Luke’s boyfriend while we’re in here. It’s easier that way. If they think he’s alone they’re going to be hitting on him. And if they think he’s with me they’ll never believe he’s straight and they’ll only hit on him more. We’ve been through this before, trust me. It’s easier this way, honey.”
            I knew she was right. Gay men love to believe straight men in gay bars are really gay. When word that Luke and I were there as a couple spread through the bar faster than e-mail, no one hit on Luke again and we finished our drinks in private. I was curious about one thing, though. When Luke removed his arm from my shoulder, I asked, “Don’t you feel awkward in here with all these gay guys? They are looking at you like they want to eat you alive.” Even though no one came up to him again, he continued to get stares and whispers.
            Luke laughed and said, “It’s cool, man. I know who I am.”
            Gina and I exchanged a quick glance.
            Then Gina shrugged and said, “It’s really no different than when you and I go to straight bars and women come up to you, Cole. They don’t know you’re gay and they want to get into your pants. Does that bother you?”
            I thought about that for a moment and said, “I feel a little uncomfortable, but I think it’s flattering. For the most part I don’t mind.”
            “That’s exactly how I feel,” Luke said. “It’s flattering.”
            At that moment, watching his calm expression, I felt such an overwhelming sense of respect for him I wanted to hug him as hard as I could. But I didn’t want Luke to misunderstand and think I was trying to come on to him, so I smiled instead and said, “I guess it’s the same thing no matter how you look at it.”

By the time we returned to Gina’s car, she asked Luke to drive home because she wanted to stretch out in the backseat and sleep. She’d always been like that, one of those people who could fall asleep in a moving car and never give it a second thought. We once drove all the way to Provincetown and she slept through the entire trip. She said it helped pass the time. So I sat up front with Luke all the way home and we talked about the play we’d seen that night. Although we had discussed books in the past, I was amazed at some of the observations he’d made about the characters, the plot, and even the sets in the play. To my own chagrin, I’d thought of Luke as a nice, good-looking jock type who cared more about working out and playing soccer than studying. And when I discovered he went so much deeper I almost wanted to apologize aloud to him for not giving him the credit he deserved.

When we were only a few miles from home, Gina suggested we go back to Luke’s apartment for one more drink to celebrate his birthday. “It’s only two in the morning,” she said. “And I’m wide awake now.”

I wasn’t tired, but I felt awkward about going back to Luke’s with them. “Maybe you should drop me off at the dorm first. You two probably want to celebrate alone tonight.” I figured Gina had a few secret birthday plans for Luke that didn’t involve me. And I didn’t want to put them in the awkward position of asking me to take a hike. As it was, I was beginning to feel a bit intrusive.

Luke grabbed my wrist and said, “No way, dude. We both want you to come back with us.”

“Seriously,” Gina said.

So I nodded and said, “Okay.”

On the way up the steps that led to Luke’s garage apartment, we whispered and giggled so we wouldn’t wake the older couple who lived in the main house. When we entered the apartment, Gina went into the small bedroom to use the bathroom and Luke gestured to the living room and told me to make myself at home.

While I glanced at the neat apartment with shiny hardwood floors, an exposed wall of brick, and huge clean windows, Luke went into the small recently renovated kitchen and made three martinis. I walked to a black leather sofa facing a large flat screen TV and sat down in front of a long glass coffee table. For a single guy, I was amazed at how well he kept the place…even his desk was neatly organized, with even stacks of books and a laptop screen so clear and free of smudges and dust it looked as if it had never been used before. It even smelled clean in his apartment: wax and pine soap. When I thought about how I’d left my dorm room that night with a stack of dirty underwear and socks next to my bed I felt a twinge of guilt. My roommate was even worse. I’d seen him throw jock straps and sweat socks over lamp shades.

When Gina returned to the living room area, I was surprised to see she’d changed her clothes. She was wearing one of Luke’s white button down shirts and nothing else. The shirttails covered all of her private parts when she was standing. But when she sat down on the other end of the sofa I could see she wasn’t wearing any underwear. I didn’t say anything. And all she said was, “It’s so good to get into something comfortable.”

A moment later, Luke walked into the living room area with a small tray and three ice cold martinis in cocktail glasses…not actual martini glasses. Gina made a snide remark about the glasses and he ignored her. When he rounded the corner and slid between the glass coffee table and the black leather sofa, I noticed he’d removed his pants and he was wearing gray boxer shorts with tiny black diamonds. When he set the tray on the table, I saw a couple of joints, an ashtray, and a small red cigarette lighter. He sat in the middle of the sofa, between Gina and me, and spread his legs so wide I noticed the fly in his boxer shorts open up. I quickly looked down at my lap so no one would think I was looking at his crotch. I wanted to lean over and peek inside, but I didn’t want him to think I was like those other guys back at the bar in New York.

“Hey, we need some fucking music,” Gina said.

“You’re right,” said Luke, and then he leaned toward me and reached for a remote device that controlled a sound system for his iPod on the stand where his flat screen TV rested. He didn’t seem to have any set musical preference. He pushed a button and Mumford & Sons started to play.

We all reached for a drink and Gina made the toast. “Here’s to turning twenty-one years old today,” she said. She lifted her glass higher and laughed. “Now it’s legal for you to do anything you want, Luke. And I hope this will be a night you’ll remember.”

After we clicked glasses, we sat back on the sofa and Luke lit up a joint. As we passed it around, we joked about the classes we were taking, some of the professors we all had in common, and about this one guy who went to our gym and always smelled of garlic when he perspired.

The conversation took a slight turn when Luke lit the second joint. He passed it to me and said, “So are you still seeing that creepy frat dude?”

I laughed. He took me by surprise and I was so stoned I didn’t know what else to do. “I’m not actually seeing him anymore,” I said. We hadn’t officially broken up; it had just tapered off. “I mean it’s not like we were engaged or anything so it wasn’t an actual break up. We got together sometimes; we don’t anymore. I like dick; he had a nice dick.”

Gina howled. “I like dick, too.” She loved dirty talk. Not outright filth. The harmless kind of dirty talk you can laugh about.

Luke nodded and said, “I see.” Then he stared at me and said, “How come you’re the only one sitting there in clothes. Take those pants off, man. Get comfortable.”

My face grew warm. I didn’t know how to respond.

Gina laughed and said, “He’s a shy little bird. He’s afraid to take off his pants.”

She knew me too well. I sat up and said, “I’m not afraid to do anything.” Then I stood up, kicked off my shoes, and pulled off my pants.

Only I’d forgotten that I was wearing a thong that night instead of underwear. When Gina saw this, she pointed and said, “Now that’s more like it.”
Luke laughed and slapped the back of my thigh. “Go dude. I want underwear like that.”

I was so wasted by then I didn’t care anymore. I gave Luke a playful shove for slapping me and sat down on the sofa again. When I shoved Luke, he fell into Gina and she spilled her martini on his leg. She started to laugh, and Luke turned to me and shoved me harder than I’d shoved him. I shoved him back, we all started laughing, and Luke wound up on top of me. He pinned me to the sofa on my back and held my arms down so hard I couldn’t stop laughing. He was stronger than I was, but I didn’t fight back as hard as I could have. The truth is I didn’t want him to stop.

While he hovered over me, laughing at how simple it was to control me, Gina leaned over and yanked his boxer shorts down to his knees. When I looked up and noticed he had a full erection, I blinked and said, “Dude, put that thing away.” Gina hadn’t exaggerated about his dick.

Although most guys would have seen all this coming way ahead of time, I guess I’ve always been slow to recognize the simplest things. I still thought we were all just hanging out like friends, getting stoned and listening to music. It never occurred to me that Luke wanted more that night, or that Gina wanted more, too. I didn’t fully grasp the moment until Gina pushed Luke forward and said, “Make him suck it, Luke.”

The next thing I knew Luke’s knees were next to my shoulders and his half of his erection was in my mouth. Even if he had given me time to think about this, I doubt I would have refused. While I took him, Gina stood up, she removed the white shirt, and she started to kiss Luke while I sucked him off. After that, Luke wound up on the sofa naked, with his legs wide open. As he leaned back and closed his eyes, he held both of our heads in his palms while we took turns between his legs.

We all wound up in Luke’s bed that night, with Luke in the middle, Gina to his right, and I was on the left. Although it’s still a blur to me because we were all so wasted, I do remember a few details. I made out with Gina in Luke’s bed while Luke took turns between our legs. I also remember kissing them both at the same time, with Luke on top of us rubbing his hairy legs between our smooth legs. At one point, Luke put on a condom and told us to get up and spread our legs. I hesitate to go into any more details about this because what happened that night wasn’t just about sex between three wasted fools. I didn’t know this at the time. We connected in a way I didn’t think was possible, with the kind of emotional intimacy I never thought I would find. I already loved Gina in a very special way. But didn’t realize how I felt about Luke, at least not emotionally. He made it all so simple and natural that night what we shared became something beautiful and scared. I discovered a calmness about Luke that balanced out Gina’s wild energy.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, my head was on Luke’s shoulder and my hand on his chest. I felt panicky when I realized what had happened the night before and all I wanted to do was get up and run out of the apartment so I wouldn’t have to look either of them in the eye. Gina would think I was trying to steal Luke. And Luke would think I’d seduced him and taken advantage of him while he’d been stoned. Then I thought about the way Luke had fucked me and I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. At that moment, I wasn’t certain I could ever face him again.

As I turned to get climb out from beneath the covers without waking them, Luke grabbed me, pulled me closer, and asked, “Where are you going, man?” He threw his leg over mine and I felt his erection in my side.

I hesitated. I didn’t know what to say. I wondered if he remembered what had happened. “I guess I should leave now.” I wanted to get out of there before Gina woke up. I wasn’t sure I could ever face her again. Gina had never been wasted enough in her life to forget anything.

“It’s early, man,” Luke said. “Let’s stay in bed for a while.” Then he kissed me on the lips and rubbed his bare foot against my leg.

Gina moved closer to Luke. She didn’t open her eyes, but she said, “That was hot last night, guys.”

“Cole wants to leave,” Luke said to Gina.

She yawned and said, “Cole, shut the fuck up and go back to sleep. It’s too early to get up.”

When she said this, I figured she was okay with what had happened the night before, so I reached down and cupped Luke’s balls in my palm and I went back to sleep.

Sen. McCain Defends Gays in Russia; FREE Excerpt

Sen. McCain Defends Gays in Russia

Sen. John McCain, a Republican who ran against President Obama in 2008, recently made strong statements against Russia, which include comments about Russian discrimination against gays. McCain spoke out in reply to a NYT editoral by Russian President Vladimir Putin. Among many things McCain slammed that include ruling through oppression, McCain said this about how Russia treats gays.

“They write laws to codify bigotry against people whose sexual orientation they condemn. They throw the members of a punk rock band in jail for the crime of being provocative and vulgar and for having the audacity to protest President Putin’s rule,” he said.

At least someone’s saying something…other than the smallest voices in the US. You can read more here.

Free Excerpt Chase of a Dream

Here’s another free excerpt from one of my indie pubbed books, Chase of a Dream. It’s the second book in the Chase series, and I released this one in both abridged and unabridged versions so that people who prefer erotic gay romance could buy the version with sex, and those who don’t like too much sex can buy the toned down version. This is from the unabridged version, and you’ll have to click the link to my Word Press blog at the end to read the adult rated parts.

From the raw unedited version:

After dinner, Len and Cain went out on the veranda overlooking the Hollywood Hills and Jim put Culum to bed. Normally, both Len and Jim would have put Culum to bed together, but Jim thought Len needed a little time alone with his son. And Culum was such an easy child to deal with getting him to bed was never much of a problem.
            That night, with Clinger at Jim’s side, he gave Culum a quick bath, put on his favorite little gray sweat suit that he liked sleeping in, and tucked him into bed. There was no need for a diaper. Culum had been potty trained completely at a very early age. He’d been such an easy-going child Jim and Len didn’t even notice if he’d gone through the “terrible two” stage all parents seemed to dread.
Clinger always slept in Culum’s room, right beside Culum’s bed, on a pale blue carpet that always reminded Jim of needlepoint. It was nubby and there were flecks of white stippled between the blue fibers. The large tan dog had begun this ritual of sleeping beside Culum’s bed the first night Len and Culum moved into Jim’s house and he’d never stopped. And if anyone tried to move Clinger, he growled and refused to budge. Although they had a nanny cam and intercom in the nursery, if Culum needed them in the middle of the night Clinger usually started to bark before they heard a sound come from the speakers.
When he was all covered and snuggled in bed, Culum glanced up at Jim and said, “Who is that man, daddy?” The child hadn’t said a word up until he was about nineteen months old. Jim and Len had been concerned about this. But once he started, he spoke in full sentences without baby talk. Len told Jim that Cain had been the same way when he’d been a baby.
Jim smiled and patted Culum’s tiny shoulder. He knew Culum was asking about Cain. He and Len had agreed not to hide the truth from Culum about anything…ever. They wanted him to know who he was and where he came from and to be proud of it. They had nothing to hide, and they wanted to instill this sense of family and strength in Culum at a young age. Culum knew Len was his grandfather; he knew Jim wasn’t his biological dad but he called him dad anyway. “He’s your other dad, Culum. He’s your biological dad. We told you about him before. Don’t you remember?”
They had mentioned Cain, but not often. Jim knew the child hadn’t processed it all yet. The only reason they used large words like biological was to prepare him and get him used to the word. Baby talk wasn’t allowed in their home…at least not when Len was around. Jim often ignored this and spoiled Culum rotten when they were alone together. But Len was determined not to make the same mistakes with Culum that he’d made with Cain. Jim often thought Len took this to extremes and he tried to create a balance. 
Culum let this information sink in for a moment, and then he asked, “Where’s my mom?”
This always tugged at Jim’s heart. They tried to shower the boy with as much love and honesty as they could. They made a point of inviting Culum’s biological mom to LA to spend time with him. But Culum’s mother didn’t seem to want anything to do with him and neither Jim nor Len knew how to deal with that. The thought of a mother not wanting to know her own flesh and blood passed Jim by. But he always kept things positive for Culum’s sake and spoke well of her. “We’ve told you that a million times, Culum. Your mom lives in Texas. She’s studying to be an attorney in Austin. Your mom and your other dad were a couple, like husband and wife, and they broke up before you were born. That’s when your grandpa and I adopted you.” Jim tried to keep things simple, especially when it came to his relationship with Len. The kid didn’t know the difference between gay and straight yet. Culum was still too young to ask the serious questions, like why his biological mom and dad had given him up, and Jim dreaded the day he would have to explain this. He knew the best he could do for now was to let Culum know that they loved him more than anything else in the world.
“How long is my other dad going to be here?” Culum asked.
Jim shrugged. “I’m not sure. He said he was going to move to Los Angeles, so I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot more of him.”
“Do you like him?”
Jim patted his shoulder again. “Of course I like him. I grew up with him back in Texas. We were best friends and we’ve known each other all our lives.” He knew this part could be tricky, especially when Culum started to realize that Jim had fallen in love with his best friend’s dad. But they believed the truth was better than keeping secrets. And though it wasn’t a normal situation, they didn’t want to make it abnormal either.
Culum thought again, and then he looked up at Jim and said, “Read me a story, daddy. The one about the bears.”
Jim laughed and reached for a book on the nightstand. Culum loved books and stories; his favorites were The Berenstain Bears. He was glad Culum had stopped asking questions. He didn’t like to answer questions like this when Len wasn’t around. Len had a way of explaining things that always made everything sound so much better than Jim did.
By the time Jim finished reading, Culum had drifted off to sleep. Jim turned out the light, patted Clinger on the head, and went back out to the veranda to see what Len and Cain were doing. He smiled as he passed through the kitchen when he saw that Len had cleaned up the dinner dishes. Though Len didn’t clean between the knobs on the range and he didn’t wipe Culum’s fingerprints off the stainless steel refrigerator like Jim did, he always did his best to put things away and help out around the house. And he did this without ever having to be asked.
When Jim opened the sliding glass door he heard Len say, “We’ve been thinking of buying a ranch out near Chatsworth.”
Jim closed the door and sent Len a frustrated glance. “We’re only thinking of moving. We’re not serious about it.” He knew Len missed his horses and he missed Texas even more. And the house they were living in now was only two thousand square feet…a cottage compared to the homes they’d both been familiar with in Texas. But they’d spent so much time renovating their home and making it perfect Jim wasn’t sure he wanted to go through all that again. But more than that, they’d always been so happy there. For superstitious reasons, Jim wanted to keep things the way they were for as long as he could.
Before Len had a chance to reply, Cain yawned and stretched his arms. “I’m exhausted from traveling all day. I think I’m going to turn in early.” Then he stood up from a lounge chair and stretched again. This time his black polo shirt went up and exposed his abdomen. Jim noticed that he had to be at least ten pounds thinner than the last time he’d seen him. His low-rise jeans hung so low on his hips the waistband of his underwear was showing.
Jim gestured to the house and said, “I put your bags in the guest room. It’s down the hall off the kitchen. The second door on the right. You can’t miss it. I’ll show you if you want.” He was glad Cain had interrupted Len. It caused a pull in Jim’s stomach when he thought about moving away from his home.
“He can find it himself,” Len said. “He’s big boy now.” He spoke with a curt tone, as if he didn’t have patience for Cain. He wouldn’t even look at him. It sounded rude, as though he didn’t want Cain around.

Cain rolled his eyes at Len and smiled at Jim. “I’ll find it. Like my dad said, I’m a big boy now.” He spoke with a snide tone, as if he wanted to say something nasty to Len but was holding back.

“There are clean towels in the guest bathroom,” Jim said. He bit his lip, hoping they wouldn’t argue his first night there. “If you need anything else let me know. I think you’ll find everything you need.”

Cain said good night and turned toward the house. Jim noticed that even though he’d lost weight, he still had that cocky swagger he’d had since he was a child. That was another difference between Len and Cain. Len walked with his head high and his back squared; Cain left a room as if he were about to go up on stage and do a striptease act.

When Cain was gone, Jim sat down in the lounge chair next to Len’s and sighed. He stretched his legs and yawned. He’d been up since six that morning and he hadn’t stopped moving all day. Though Len helped as much as he could with Culum, Len had to go to the office every day and he didn’t have the freedom Jim had. Jim’s career in public relations was thriving by then. He had an impressive list of clients that included more than a few famous names, from celebrities to technology executives in Silicon Valley. This allowed him to work from home most of the time. A good deal of the public relations work he did now focused on web presence for his clients, and online promotion. Jim had seen the importance of the Internet the first month he started working in public relations, and now he was considered one of the finest online promoters in his field. He only went into the office in Beverly Hills for meetings. And though sometimes he had to travel, it was never more than a few days at a time.

“Are you tired?” Len asked. He reached over and held Jim’s hand. It was getting cooler out; the palms below them began to sway.

“Exhausted,” Jim said. His feet tingled and his back ached. “It’s been a long day. I had one client almost melt down this afternoon. I spent an hour trying to calm her down so she wouldn’t do anything drastic and ruin her online image. She actually phoned me in tears. She’s being attacked online by some flaming lunatic with sockpuppets.”

“What’s a sockpuppet?” Len asked, as he ran his fingers up and down Jim’s forearm. He always did this when he was getting horny. Jim didn’t pull away from him.

Jim smiled. A lot of the new jargon on the Internet seemed so foreign to Len. He worked in a bank all day, where people in the real world weren’t exposed to these things…yet. “An Internet sockpuppet is kind of like when someone has multiple identities on the Internet and they abuse those identities. In this case, my client, a smaller client who runs a furniture business on the Internet is being harassed by some fruitcake with multiple identities. The fruitcake is leaving vicious reviews and defaming my client and her products with these fake identities. She knows exactly what she’s doing. It looks like twenty five different people left bad reviews, and discussed them together, but it’s really only one person.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Jim said. “But we’re taking legal action and trying to get a court order that will allow us to get to the bottom of this. Our attorneys are working hard on it.”

“Is it legal to sockpuppet?” Len asked.

“I don’t know,” Jim said. A lot of this was new to him. “It’s certainly not ethical. I’m still learning as I go. But it is illegal to defame anyone, and that’s what this nutcase is doing. And my client is sick and tired of dealing with it. Trust me; we’re going to hear a lot more about these things in the future as more and more people start using the Internet for business. Right now there really aren’t many ethics and standards on the Internet.”

“Why on earth would anyone torment another human being that way?” Len asked. “It’s insane and counterproductive.”

Jim laughed. “Because my client is this lunatic’s biggest online competitor, and when it comes to money people will do anything.” He yawned again and closed his eyes. “Let’s talk about something else. The whole thing is so creepy I’ll have nightmares if we keep talking about it. The fact that someone could stalk, harass, and defame someone else makes me want to triple lock the doors.”

“Did Culum get off to sleep okay?” Len asked.

“He’s fine,” Jim said. “He asked a few questions about Cain, but nothing we haven’t already discussed before. I read him a story and Clinger is right next to him. How did things go with Cain while I was gone? I hope you guys didn’t argue. I really think it’s time to make peace.”

Len sat up and rubbed his eyes. He seemed as tired as Jim. “I just don’t get him. He was always on the wild side, but I thought he’d grow up eventually. He always got such good grades in school, and he was captain of all the sports teams. It’s like after he graduated from Stanford he went berserk and I don’t know how to get through to him. He told me he’s moving to LA and he wants to open one of those stores where they sell marijuana legally with a prescription from a doctor. Did you ever hear of such a thing?”

“You’re joking,” Jim said. He turned and leaned closer to Len.

“I wish I were,” Len said. “He didn’t ask me tonight, but I have a feeling he’s going to ask for money to help get this business going. He was just setting things up tonight. I know him too well. And frankly I don’t want to be associated with a business like that. I would gladly give him the money to go back to grad school, or to law school, or to do anything normal. But this idea of opening a storefront to sell pot just isn’t something I can support.”

Jim laughed. Len could be very conservative when it came to things like this. Though Jim had smoked pot in Princeton, and he would have liked a joint once in a while to wind down at night, Len wouldn’t allow it in the house. “They are called Medical Marijuana Dispensaries, not pot stores. And it’s all perfectly legal in some states. California is one of them. In California you’re allowed to have up to a certain amount of plants, more, I think, if you get permission from a doctor. It’s complicated and there are a lot of rules to follow. But it might not be a bad idea for Cain. At least he has a goal.”

Len turned and flung Jim a glance. “Dispensaries? How on earth do you know all this?”

Jim shrugged. “I have a client who owns a dispensary. I guess I never mentioned it before.” Because Jim worked at home, he liked to leave work behind when he shut down his office for the day. He rarely discussed his clients unless Len asked him specific questions.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Len said. “Let’s go to bed early.” He reached over, put his hand between Jim’s legs, and squeezed his ass.

On any other night, Jim would have spread his legs wider so Len’s fingers could go deeper. Their love-making had calmed down in the past year, and Jim often wondered if the proverbial honeymoon was over. When they’d first fallen in love, Len had been more aggressive, almost sleazy in his love-making. Now he yawned in front of the TV most nights and Jim couldn’t blame him. He was just as tired. Working full time, raising a child, and dealing with the everyday realities in their lives wasn’t always easy.

But that night Jim sat up and blinked. “Len, don’t do that.” He smacked Len’s hand and clamped his knees shut. “Cain could walk out here at any moment and see it. I’m still not sure he accepts the fact that you’re gay, let alone that I’m your husband.” Sometimes even Jim had trouble believing he was his best friend’s stepdad. They’d had a small marriage ceremony with a few close friends. And though same sex marriage wasn’t federally recognized, they referred to each other as husband and husband.

“He’s had three years to process all this,” Len said. “It’s time for him to grow up and realize that I’m gay, we’re married, and that it’s not going to change. If he were gay I would feel the same way.”

“I know,” Jim said. “But I’d feel more comfortable while he’s here if we remained discreet. And it’s not like we’re the kind of couple that holds hands while walking down the street.” Neither one of them had ever been overly affectionate in public. And it had nothing to do with them being gay. Len was a very discreet man in every aspect of his life. He didn’t drive a flashy car to let people know he had money; he still wore the same cowboy hat he’d had for the past ten years. Len and Jim didn’t have anything to prove to anyone, nor did they feel the need to put on a show or a display in public for the sake of shock value. They kept their passion and emotion for the privacy of their own bedroom.

Len stood up and scratched his crotch; he yawned. He was wearing those baggy short pants that Jim always thought looked so cute on him. “I’ll go take a shower and wait for you in bed.”

Jim glanced at him and smiled. “Don’t take a shower; just wait for me in bed. I’ll be there in a minute. I just want to do a few things in the kitchen first.” Jim preferred Len to smell natural, like a man, when they made love. He didn’t want him to smell soft and powdery and sweet.

“But I went to the stables and rode for an hour this afternoon,” Len said. “I really should shower.” Twice a week, without fail, Len put on his cowboy hat, his cowboy boots, and drove to a ranch in Chatsworth where he could ride horses. Sometimes Jim went with him if he had time. But for the most part it was Len’s private time, to be alone with his thoughts and release all the stress that had built up from working as an investment banker.

Jim glanced back to make sure Cain wasn’t standing in the kitchen. Then he ran his hand up the side of Len’s strong leg, up through his baggy short pants and boxer shorts, and he grabbed Len’s dick. He squeezed it and said, “I’d rather you didn’t shower first. We can both shower afterward.”

Chapter Three

While Len was waiting for Jim in the bedroom, Jim pulled a few of his favorite cleaning supplies out from under the sink and touched up a few things in the kitchen. When he walked into the kitchen every morning sparkling appliances made him smile. He liked the black granite counters to shine and he used a special product for this. He liked to see his reflection in the stainless steel appliances, and he had another special product for that. He’d always believed that if he kept up with things daily he wouldn’t have to spend long hours cleaning during his spare time. In other words, he never actually spent a full day house-cleaning. He cleaned as he went along.

Len had offered to hire a cleaning person to come in once or twice a week but the house was small enough for Jim to handle on his own. And it wasn’t as if Len didn’t pitch in. He would have done more around the house if he’d had time. Their relationship may have been defined in the bedroom in very specific ways, but around the house they were both equals. There were times when nothing turned Jim on more than seeing Len push the dust mop across the hardwood floors.

Before Jim put the stainless steel cleaner away, he spotted a few smudges on the bottom of the refrigerator. So he quickly went down on his hands and knees and sprayed the surface. But while he was down there wiping, he glanced up and saw a pair of naked legs in front of him. When he looked up, his head jerked back and he stood up so fast he dropped the cleaner.

Cain was standing there stark naked, with wet hair and a ridiculous grin. He smiled and said, “I was wondering if you have a hair dryer I could borrow. I left mine in Hawaii and I didn’t see one in the bathroom.” Then he bent down slowly, picked up the cleaner, and set it on the counter.

Jim started rubbing the clean counter, pretending to be busy so he wouldn’t have to look at Cain. “There’s one in the closet in the guest room,” he said, with a nervous lilt in his voice. “It’s hanging on a hook. You can’t miss it.” His head went down and he started rubbing the counter faster.

“Okay, man,” Cain said. “Thanks. Sorry to bother you. I guess you’re going to bed now. I guess when you’re with someone my dad’s age you go to bed earlier.”

“I was just ready to turn out the lights, and don’t be cute,” Jim said. “Your dad can run circles around me when it comes to energy.” He wanted to tell Cain to go back and put on a robe. He didn’t think it was appropriate for Cain to be walking around naked that way. But he decided not to say anything at all. He’d grown up with Cain. They’d been best friends all through school. They’d showered together in locker rooms, they’d undressed in front of each other without thinking twice about it, and they’d even gone skinny dipping on hot summer nights. There had never been anything sexual between them. Of course there were times when Jim had been attracted to Cain. Back when Jim was still in the closet and very frustrated sexually he used to secretly long to be with Cain. He’d sniffed his underwear and socks more than once. But none of this had ever led to anything sexual.

Cain crossed to where Jim was standing, loping in his bare feet. While Jim was still cleaning the counter, Cain put his arms around him and said, “Thanks for taking me in this way. I just want you to know that in spite of everything that’s happened I still consider you my best friend in the entire world.”

Jim stopped moving. He didn’t try to put his arms around Cain. He nodded and said, “I feel the same way about you.” He didn’t feel even slightly attracted to Cain. He felt more awkward than anything else and he couldn’t wait for Cain to go back to bed and leave him alone.

Cain squeezed him hard and then stepped back. He turned and said, “I’ll see you in the morning, man. I guess you want to get to bed. I’m sure my dad, with all his extra energy, is waiting for you right now.”

Jim ignored that remark. It sounded innocent enough. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He knew Cain too well not to suspect there wasn’t a slight hint of sarcasm between the lines. Cain was insinuating that Len was waiting for Jim in the bedroom for sex, not sleep. He obviously still had problems with the fact that Jim and Len were lovers and partners in every sense of the word. But Jim let that remark go on purpose. He had gay friends at work that actually slept in separate bedrooms when their families came to visit them. For some reason, they thought it was inappropriate for their families to see them go into the same bedroom. Len and Jim didn’t do this, not even when Jim’s mom and dad visited from Texas.

As Cain loped back to the guest room with the same cocky swagger he had when he walked down the street fully dressed, he sent Jim a backward glance and said, “Sweet dreams, baby-boy.” Jim hadn’t been called baby-boy in years. It was a nickname Cain’s mom used to call Jim when he’d been a child. He’d never liked it.

Jim looked up and caught a glimpse of Cain’s naked back. The lights were low. From that distance it could have been Len walking back to the guest room instead of Cain. Their naked bodies were almost identical. “Unless you want to be up early, you’d better close your bedroom door. We’re all up around seven in the morning. I take Culum to pre-school at eight, and your dad leaves for the office around the same time.”

“No problem, dude,” Cain said. “I’m an early riser.”

Jim watched him turn the corner. Before he turned, he reached down and scratched his dick. Jim closed his eyes and shook his head. If Cain continued to walk around naked in the house he’d have to say something to him. This wasn’t a frat house; Len and Jim wore clothes at all times, especially with Culum around. If he was going to live with them indefinitely he had to conform to their rules.


Gay Guy Racist Big Brother; Gay Dead for Blowing Kiss; FREE Excerpt Day

Gay Guy Is Racist Big Brother 15

I’ve been posting about Big Brother 15 all summer and how I’ve never seen a more racist, vicious group of people who will do anything…absolutely anything…for the sake of a buck. I have watched this show for what feels like my entire life every summer and this year might be the last. Even the gay guy on the show, Andy Herren, who has been the victim of racial comments this summer from other house guests, has joined up with the hate and racism.

Andy Herren was called a “queer” by Gries and “Kermit the fag” by Clawson, but that didn’t keep him from hopping on the hate bandwagon when he agreed with Zimmerman’s observation that many of the evicted houseguests were “robotic biracials.” The college where Herren is/was employed is trying to distance themselves from his comments and posted the following message on its Facebook page:

The statement from the college is vague, and I wonder if Herren actually worked for the college recently, in what capacity, and what his actual job title was. He’s such a consummate liar on the show it would be hard to believe anything he said.

You can read more here to see a statement from the college. He’s allegedly been fired, like other Big Brother house guests this summer, and like the others who have lost their jobs Herren has no idea. That’s because the house guests are sequestered all summer and they have no idea what’s been happening in the outside world. With that said, they all know they are on camera at all times and that anything and everything they say or do is recorded for the entire world to see.

As a side note, for those who aren’t familiar with Big Brother, one of the reasons people watch Big Brother is to either love or hate the house guests. It’s an interesting game filled with strategy, and the contestants are not supposed to play fair all the time. Lying, cheating, and subterfuge is part of the game and it’s expected in the game. It’s what makes the game interesting. However, racism isn’t a requirement. Unfortunately, some of these people are either too dumb or too clueless to get this.

Gay Dead for Blowing Kiss

This is an unusual story because there seem to be so many various stories surfacing it’s hard to grasp what happened. Even the victim’s name has been misreported, as if someone wasn’t paying attention to the facts.

This piece originally stated that a gay man was murdered because he blew a kiss at a young straight man. An update mentions the victim’s name. Another update mentions he wasn’t really gay.

Steven Torres, a 22-year-old Bronx resident, is facing charges of second degree murder for the death of Ever Orozco after allegedly attacking the man beneath the elevated 7 train station at 90th St. and Roosevelt Ave as he was feeding a parking meter around 1:30 p.m.

“There was a lot of screaming, and all I could see was the guy was stabbing him — stabbing him and stabbing him,” stated Eddie De Jesus, a local stop owner who bore witness to the incident.

According to the New York Daily News, Torres is claiming that he initiated the attack because Orozco “[blew] kisses” at him.

And this piece quotes the victim’s wife.

THE WIDOW of a 69-year-old man knifed to death in Queens Monday afternoon raged at the confessed killer Tuesday, calling him “a liar” for claiming her husband made a sexual pass at him and touched himself.

Unfortunately, we’ll never know the truth because if the victim was gay his wife might not have known it. It happens all the time, and just because a man is married to a woman doesn’t mean he’s not attracted to other men. The wife is usually the last to know, and the first to go into denial. I can’t even count the times a so-called straight married man has made passes at me over the years. And sometimes when is wife is standing right next to him.

But aside from all that, because it doesn’t really matter, this was still a hate crime against the LGBT community, and not the only one that has happened in NY this year.

Overall, NYC has seen a sharp spike in anti-LGBT violence since the spring, with former mayoral candidate Christine Quinn reportedly stating that year-to-year numbers have shown an expected 70 percent increase in anti-gay hate crimes.

FREE Excerpt Day

Here’s another free excerpt from one of my books, Jonah Sweet of Delancey Street. It’s one of my indie releases, it’s a .99 e-book, and can be purchased at several places, including the link above to Amazon.

Although I didn’t hold back with the erotic scenes in this book (far from it), this is from the beginning of Chapter Two where Jonah Sweet meets David Abernathy for the first time. Aside from trying to learn how to cook, Jonah also has the gift of mind reading. The book isn’t a paranormal by any means. But like there are people who can read minds in real life and see into the future, so can Jonah.
From the raw, unedited version…

The next morning Jonah had an exam. He was supposed to cut or chop something and he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. They never told the students in advance; they expected the students to be prepared and to know how to do anything on the spot. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a good day at all. When he glanced into his closet for something to wear, all he found were his tight beige slacks and a pale, faded pink polo shirt that was so short he couldn’t lift his arms without showing off his bare stomach. The rest of his things were in the laundry and his mom hadn’t done them yet. The only alternative to wearing this outfit would have been to pull something out of his hamper.

He shrugged in defeat and slid the short polo shirt over his head; knowing deep down what he wore had nothing to do with how he would do on the exam. It was a progressive school in the sense that they didn’t force students to wear uniforms; just white aprons and hats while they were working with food. He fastened the tight beige slacks and pulled up the zipper, wishing he hadn’t thrown the jeans he’d worn yesterday into the hamper. He didn’t realize he’d forgotten to take off the cock ring until he got on the subway. He felt an itch between his legs when he sat down next to an old man reading the newspaper. When he reached down to scratch, he felt the black leather cock ring and sighed so loud the old man sitting next to him lowered the newspaper and sent him a dirty look.

As usual, Jonah was right on time without a second to spare and he couldn’t run into the men’s room to remove the cock ring. If he had, he would have been late for class. Those cooking instructors were a serious group. The few times he had arrived late they’d made him stand at the back of the class and separate eggs for three hours, or worse, chop garlic. So he ran up to the second floor, down the hall, and skidded into the classroom with his apron strings flying. He’d put on his apron and his hat on the way up the steps. The rest of the students had already arrived and the only work station available was up front. Jonah preferred to work in the back row so he could blend in better if he wasn’t sure about what he was doing. He didn’t have any choice that morning.

When he entered the room, the instructor threw him a somber glance and frowned. Jonah looked up at a clock on the wall and saw that he was on time; not late, but not early either. He wanted to flip the old goat the bird and say, “It’s only cutting vegetables, not cancer research.” But he’d never been the type to do things like that. So he lifted his chin and set his jaw in defense and turned fast. He took his place at the work station in the front row and dropped his back pack on the floor. He tied his apron and took a quick breath. When he stood up straight to face the instructor, he had to stand with his legs slightly spread apart, with his back arched a little. The cock ring was starting to pinch.

As the instructor shuffled a few papers, a tall man in a biege mock turtle neck sweater walked into the room. The entire class, including Jonah, glanced up to see who he was. He held his head high, with a superior attitude, and swaggered up to the long work station at the head of the class where the instructor stood in front of a large industrial sink. The instructor shook the man’s hand, said something no one could hear, and smiled for the first time since Jonah had enrolled in the cooking school. Then the instructor faced the class and said, “We have a guest today. This is Mr. David Abernathy. He not only owns this school, but also one of the largest restaurant chains in the world and some very large casinos. He’s looking for someone to intern with him and learn his business from the bottom up. The internship will count toward your diploma and the person selected will graduate without having to return. It’s a wonderful opportunity.”

A quiet, collective gasp passed through the room and Jonah knew why. He’d read all about David Abernathy in more than one magazine. His photo was hanging in the front hall of the school. Jonah had also seen him on TV and in a few cameos for feature films. From all reports, David Abernathy was worth more than a billion dollars and he’d made it all on his own by starting a small hamburger stand on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. And he was even better looking in person. He stood over six feet tall, with his head held high and even. His short black hair didn’t have a set part. It seemed messy on top as if he’d planned it that way. The muscles in his arms and shoulders and chest protruded through the tight mock turtleneck in an obvious way that suggested he wanted to show them off. The tight dark jeans he wore accentuated his long legs and created a slight bulge in his crotch. From what Jonah had read, David Abernathy always wore basically the same outfit: a black or beige mock turtle neck and jeans. Sometimes he wore a suit and sometimes he wore a suit jacket with jeans. But he never wore colors other than black, beige, or muted olive green. Jonah had read somewhere he was so obsessive about his conservative clothes he had thousands of identical black and beige mock turtleneck sweaters stacked neatly in all of the homes he owned.

David Abernathy glanced at the students and nodded. His face remained expressionless; he laced his fingers together below his waist. Jonah couldn’t help notice how large his hands were. He had long thick fingers and with smooth even knuckles. A man’s hands were important to Jonah: knobby knuckles and tiny fingers made him wince. He’d always had this unproven theory that a man’s fingers resembled his dick.

The instructor frowned at Jonah and spoke to the entire class. “Today I’ll be testing you on your julienne skills. You will be required to julienne red bell peppers, carrots, leeks, and zucchini. You will be given a certain amount of time to do this and you will be evaluated. Mr. Abernathy will observe and he will make his decision at the end of the class. Are there any questions?”

Jonah glanced at the vegetables at his work station that he would be chopping. He hated to julienne even more than he hated to bone chickens. Getting those thin little strips just right made his stomach tighten. And those red bell peppers were a killer, with all those messy seeds and slimy insides. Oh, if he’d known this would be the exam he would have been practicing his julienne skills last night instead of dicing the fucking onions. This instructor always threw him off this way. The man couldn’t be predicted, not even by a mind reader.

Though Jonah knew he didn’t have a chance in hell at being chosen for the internship with David Abernathy, he lifted his French knife and braced for battle with the red bell pepper. When the instructor said, “Go,” Jonah reached for a pepper and did the best he could. While everyone around him seemed to work with precision, Jonah forced a smile and tried to keep the pepper on the wooden work station so he could slice it in half. He lost the first one because he moved his leg and the cock ring pinched his left nut. He squeezed the pepper too hard, it flew off the work station, and landed in the large sink in front of the instructor. When Jonah glanced up, the instructor glared back at him with his arms folded across his chest. Jonah forced a smile and a quick shrug, even though the cock ring was pinching him so hard now he wanted to scream.

Jonah avoided looking at David Abernathy completely. David had piercing blue eyes and a deep intense stare. He knew if he did look at him he’d only screw up even more. Jonah had always avoided men like David Abernathy. When he looked into their eyes a lump always formed in his throat and he lost his voice.

When the instructor told them to stop, Jonah glanced down at his station and frowned. He’d only managed to cut up three red peppers, excluding the one that went over the work station. And not very well either. Instead of thin strips like everyone around him, his resembled thick crooked arrows with jagged edges and dented skins. One looked as if he’d stepped on it and rubbed it between his legs. As the instructor walked up and down the aisles, passing work stations to see what the students had done, Jonah tried to push the ugliest slices of pepper out of the way. But it didn’t work. When the instructor reached his work station and glanced down to see Jonah’s work, he shook his head and sent Jonah a look that combined pity and disgust.

David Abernathy stood behind the instructor, checking to see who had the best julienne skills. David glanced at the mess on Jonah’s work station and his eyebrows went up. After he blinked, he rubbed his jaw and tilted his head to the side. When Jonah got nervous he had trouble controlling his mind reading skills. He heard the instructor thinking, “What a fucking dunce. It’s a good thing he’s cute and he has that hot little ass, because he wouldn’t have a chance otherwise.” Jonah heard a few of the other students around him laughing internally at the mess he’d created. But Jonah couldn’t read David Abernathy’s mind at all. He wasn’t sure why either. And he didn’t try harder. From the confused look on Abernathy’s face, Jonah had a feeling he didn’t want to know what Abernathy was thinking.

The rest of the julienne exams went as poorly as the red bell pepper. The cock ring continued to pinch. Jonah almost lost a finger with the leeks. And those skinny carrots made him bite the inside of his lip so hard he thought he drew blood. By that time Jonah had calmed down enough to control his mind reading skills and he only had to glance at the instructor’s expression to know his thoughts. Each time David Abernathy saw what Jonah had done at the work station his expression went blank, as if he didn’t know what to say.

After Jonah finished working on the zucchini, David Abernathy walked up behind him and startled him so much he gasped and dropped a nine inch zucchini.  It landed on the floor between Abernathy’s feet in a way Jonah couldn’t have planned if he’d tried. He stumbled and wound up on his hands and knees. The back of his short polo shirt went up and exposed half of his naked back. He had to grab David Abernathy’s leg for support so he wouldn’t topple over completely. When he glanced up to apologize, he saw David Abernathy looking down at him with his hands on his hips and what might have been a half smile. It was either that or Abernathy was hiding a sneer.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Abernathy,” Jonah said. “It just slipped right out of my hand. I guess I wasn’t holding it hard enough.” In this position the cock ring pinched even more.

David leaned forward and extended his hands. He grabbed Jonah’s upper arms and lifted him to a standing position without making a face. Jonah’s eyes opened wide; he’d never been lifted by anyone that way before. Then David picked up the zucchini, handed it to Jonah, and said, “This might be a little too big for you to handle. You should try something smaller. Something you can really get your hand around.”

Jonah’s jaw dropped and he nodded. He tried to read David’s mind again and nothing happened. “I’ll do that, Mr. Abernathy. Thank you, Sir.”

When Jonah called him Sir, David sent him an intense stare that lingered a second or two longer than it should have. David nodded fast and said, “You’re welcome.”

At the end of the class, the instructor took a few minutes to evaluate the students and Jonah cleaned up his work station. He didn’t dare look up at David Abernathy or the instructor. He knew he’d never have a chance to be Abernathy’s intern. But more than that, he had a feeling he’d flunked the class and he’d have to wind up taking it all over again. His mind began to wander and he started to think about taking a real estate course instead of cooking school. Maybe his mom was right: he should call Stanley Minford up and marry and settle down. There were worse men than Stanley. At least Stanley would always treat him well. He just couldn’t get past the sex they would have…or wouldn’t have. He’d always believed the sex should be spectacular in the beginning of a relationship. He’d been counting on this.

When the instructor set his notebook down, he said something to David Abernathy and they walked into a small office to discuss who Abernathy had chosen to be his intern. While they were in the office, Jonah ran down the hall to the men’s room to remove the cock ring. He didn’t linger. He went into a stall, shoved his hand down his pants, and undid the snaps. Then he shoved the cock ring into his pocket and noticed that his pants were so tight it stuck out even with the apron. He couldn’t walk around with a cock ring sticking out of his leg, and didn’t want to leave the cock ring in the bathroom. This one had cost him a lot of money. So he snapped it around his wrist and ran back to the classroom.

When he returned, the instructor and David were coming out of the office. The instructor noticed Jonah rushing into the room and he frowned. Jonah looked down at his shoes and took a deep breath, praying this would all be over soon so he could figure out what he’d do now. As the two men walked back to the main work station, the instructor had a strange look on his face. His lips were pinched together and his eyebrows furrowed. David Abernathy stood still, with his head up high and the same blank expression he’d had when he arrived. He even folded his hands behind his back and started rocking on his feet. At one point, Jonah could feel David’s stare and he didn’t dare look up to see why he was looking at him.

The instructor coughed and said, “Mr. Abernathy has made his decision. The rest of you have passed the course and I’ll go over your grades with you in private in my office one at a time.” He stopped talking and glared at Jonah for a moment. Then he clenched his fists and said, “Jonah Sweet will be leaving us so he can apprentice with David Abernathy.”


Rainbow eBooks Shutting Down; Free Excerpt The Arrangement

Rainbow eBooks Shutting Down

I’d heard about this last week, but didn’t want to post anything until I knew for certain and had a link. Rainbow eBooks, which has been selling digital books with LGBT content, is shutting its web site down at the end of this month.

Rainbow eBooks has announced today that they are shutting down their online bookstore. The web store will remain active for purchases through September 30, 2013 and will remain active for customer downloads through December 31, 2013. After December 31, 2013 Rainbow eBooks will provide direct links to publishers.

The rest of the article goes on to mention how important it is to back up your e-books just in case something like this happens. And it has happened before (1placeforromance.com, and fictionwise.com) and it WILL happen again. It’s also why established authors with small start up presses should be seriously thinking about learning indie publishing if they want to survive. If the online retail stores aren’t lasting, the small online presses won’t either. It’s especially important for those with multiple titles at small presses. If that small press shutters you’ll want to release your backlisted books. My prediction is that most authors of the future will be selling their own books directly from their own web sites…kind like what J.K. Rowling did.

The bookstore feature of J.K. Rowling’s Pottermore website went live Tuesday, enabling English-language readers to buy the digital editions of all seven Harry Potter novels—and the audiobook editions—from anywhere in the world. Editions in French, Italian, German and Spanish will be the next wave.
The author who is also the businessperson will flourish in the coming decades.

I don’t think Rainbow eBooks shutting down is any reflection on e-books in a general sense. E-books aren’t going to disappear because a small business shuts down. Brick and mortar bookstores have been going out of business for years and there could be multiple reasons why that vary from business to business.

I think it’s more of a reflection on small businesses, and how hard it is to get any small business off the ground to the point where it’s at least breaking even. It’s also a reflection on how hard it is to get any LGBT oriented business to make a profit, especially in publishing. I see more gay men reading mainstream books than LGBT oriented books all the time. It’s a tight niche market and only a small percentage of the population is going to read LGBT content, and that includes gay people. In the same respect, it was a brave venture for the people who started Rainbow eBooks and I’m sorry to see them go.

Free Excerpt The Arrangement

This is an excerpt from a novella I wrote about a year and a half ago titled, The Arrangement. It was released through ravenous romance as a collaboration with author Andrew Grey who also wrote a novella of his own. The book is titled In Bed with the Boss. My novella is about a young guy during the early l960’s who winds up working in an office building in New York and falling in love with his married boss during a time when anything considered even remotely homosexual was taboo.

Once again, this is the raw version, and you can read the full excerpt with all of the erotic scenes here at my Word Press Blog. I don’t like to add anything with adult content to this blog. And the word press excerpt is much longer than this one.

In l962, if a man was attracted to another man, he was considered a homosexual in clinical terms. In more realistic everyday terms, men like this were considered queers, fags, pansies, deviants, and perverts. Among other crude references, which ranged from pillow-biter to corn-holer, depending on how graphic someone wanted to be, men who were even remotely attracted to other men were, in essence, sick freaks of nature and societal outcasts. And if a man and fell in love with another man, he was one step beyond royally screwed. In other words, there wasn’t much hope.
            Toby McFarlane didn’t think of himself as a freak or a pervert, at least not deep down inside where it really mattered. Though he wasn’t sure two men could fall in love with each other, he didn’t discard the concept either.
It wasn’t until he graduated from college and realized his attraction to men wasn’t a stage when he finally decided to stop fighting his feelings and learn to live with them. And even that wasn’t easy. He never went a day without feeling anxious or worried that someone would figure him out. He was always looking over his shoulder, making sure he didn’t make the wrong gestures or give anyone the wrong look. So he did the best he could to blend in with everyone else, which seemed to be the safest way to live his life.
In the summer of l962, right after he graduated from the ultra conservative Drew Universityin New Jersey, Toby moved to New York City. It seemed like the best thing to do. He took a small apartment in midtown Manhattan on the fourth floor of a building that had once been a large single family home. He figured moving to New Yorkwould be safe and there would be more men like him in an urban environment. He knew there were more men like him; he’d read about them and heard about them. But he just wasn’t sure how…or where…to meet them. There had to be a way to search them out, and he was determined to do it.
A week after he moved to New Yorkhe went on an interview. They offered him the job that day and he accepted it with a huge smile and his strongest, manliest handshake. The next Monday he went to work as an assistant art director for Johnson, Frederick, and Lindsay Advertising, Inc, where he fell into a comfortable routine. It was the golden age of advertising and Toby couldn’t have asked for a better position. He wore dark suits and white shirts to work, with skinny solid ties, boxer shorts in pastel colors, and always white undershirts. On his feet he wore black Thom MaCan’s he had shined once a week by an old man named Otis in the lobby of his office building on Madison Avenue. He ate lunch at Horn and Hardart and ordered cheap Chinese take out three times a week. On weekends, he took long walks in central park and took the bus to Newark, NJ, so he could shop in Bamberger’sbecause he thought it was cheaper than Macy’s. On the third Saturday of every month he rode the subway downtown to little Italy to maintain his short dark hair. The barber on Mulberry Street, between Defazio’s Bakery and Orritelli’s shoe repair, only charged three dollars. In those days, Toby’s ninety dollar a week salary wasn’t considered terrible, but he’d learned how to stretch a dollar and make it last.
            When Toby walked to work in the morning, he looked just like all the other men on the street. He even wore a dark felt hat and a baggy beige raincoat during inclement weather. The only thing that ever really set him apart from the other men was that he often carried a large portfolio to the office instead of a briefcase. Sometimes he took work home, especially when he was working on an advertising campaign that needed extra attention. When he was inside the office among his peers, no one would ever have guessed he was more interested in the cute young guy who brought the mail up at eleven every morning than he was in the shapely blond receptionist in the front waiting area. That is no one except for Brad Lindsay, one of Toby’s bosses and the third and youngest partner in the advertising agency.
Brad and Toby were both in their twenties, both thin and attractive; both had similar hair cuts and wore similar suits. If Toby’s hair hadn’t been a few shades darker than Brad’s, they could have passed as brothers. The only real difference between them was that Brad was married to Carl Frederick’s daughter, Misty, and Brad had been made a junior partner the day after his wedding. And Toby was single and considered a bachelor.
They weren’t men who should have been close friends, and wouldn’t have been if something hadn’t happened one Friday evening the first autumn Toby worked there. Toby had stayed late to work on a project that had been bothering him. He was the new guy in the office and he wanted to impress his bosses. He’d been trying to come up with a new slogan for a baby food company and he’d been working so hard that day his head was pounding. He’d forgotten to eat lunch and lost track of time. When he finally took a break to go to the men’s room, he ran into Brad Lindsay at the urinals. Brad was standing there leaning back, with his legs spread wide and one hand on his penis. He glanced at Toby and sent him a cocky smile, and then started to whistle a tuneless song that made the short hairs on the back of Toby’s neck stand up.
Toby returned the smile and took a quick breath. He regained his composure and tried to act casual. He usually avoided the men’s room at all cost because it made him feel awkward and out of place. He’d never been a man’s man in the sense that he didn’t know how to talk about sports and dreaded it when other men started talking dirty about women. But he didn’t have a choice now. If he left without doing anything he would have looked peculiar. So he walked up to a urinal at the opposite end of where Brad Lindsay was peeing and pulled down his zipper. Toby’s hands felt a little shaky and his heart started to race. Brad continued to whistle; he took his time and remained in front of the urinal far longer than he should have.
Toby pulled his penis out of his pants and glanced down. He didn’t look sideways and he concentrated on what he was doing. But he felt his ears getting red and his heart had begun to race. If he’d known Brad was in there he would have waited another fifteen minutes.
Then Brad caught him off guard. He smiled and glanced in Toby’s direction again. “Working late tonight?”
This was the first time Toby had actually encountered Brad Lindsay up close. He’d nodded hello and smiled at him in the elevator. But he’d never actually been face to face with him alone. Toby froze; he gulped and said, “Ah well, I’m working on the baby food campaign.”
Brad laughed. “Oh, you poor sucker. I heard all about that son of a bitch. He’s one of the worst clients we’ve ever had. It’s impossible to please him.”
Although they were about the same age, Brad was Toby’s boss and Toby knew he had to treat him like a boss, not a buddy. He’d watched the way other people treated Brad: with great care. “I’ll figure out something that will make him happy, Mr. Lindsay. You can count on that.” Toby was ambitious. So far, he liked working there. And he knew he could only depend on his work ethics and his talents to get ahead because there was no way he’d ever marry the boss’s daughter. Toby had overheard the office gossip. They laughed and said Brad would have been working in the mail room if he hadn’t married old man Frederick’s daughter.

“I’m sure you will,” Brad said, with a deep, smooth voice. “I’ve heard excellent things about you.” Then he stepped away from the urinal without zipping up his pants. He turned toward Toby and took a few steps in his direction.

Toby finished what he’d started and he zipped up his pants. But when he turned and saw that Brad’s dick was still hanging out of his dark gray suit pants, he gulped and swallowed hard.

Brad crossed over to where Toby was standing and said, “I’ve been watching you for a while, Toby.” His dick was still hanging out of his pants: semi-erect now. He reached out and placed his palm on the small of Toby’s back without warning.

“Ah well, Mr. Lindsay,” Toby said. He continued to stare down at the urinal. His fists were clenched so Brad wouldn’t see them shake and it felt as if all the blood in his body had rushed to the top of his head.

Brad rubbed the small of Toby’s back and said, “Please call me Brad. We’re almost the same age. Like I just said, I’ve been watching you and I think we might have a lot in common if you know what I mean.”

Though he’d been confused at first, Toby definitely knew what Brad meant now. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to Toby in a men’s room.  Once, during a road trip to the Finger Lakes to visit his Aunt Nan, Toby had stopped at a truck stop to relieve himself and a trucker had made the same advances. Another time, in the men’s room at DrewUniversity, a theology student had followed him into a stall. And then there’d been the time in the bowling alley in Queens, with a young guy who looked like Joe DiMaggio. But Toby never expected this from Brad Lindsay…his boss. And in the men’s room right there in the office. So he took a deep breath and said, “You’re married.”

Brad shrugged. “That’s doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with a nice guy.” He moved forward and started to rub his crotch up and down Toby’s right leg. “And you are a very nice guy from what I can see.” Toby didn’t have to look down to know that Brad was fully erect by then. He could feel the hardness pressing into his thigh. “Besides, we’re the only two in the office now. I locked the doors in such a way that no one else can get inside. Trust me, I have a lot more to lose than you do.”

“Are you sure we’re all alone?” He wondered how he could have locked the doors so no one else could get inside. But he didn’t ask.

Brad rubbed harder. “I’m positively certain, trust me.”

Toby took a deep breath and turned to face him. Brad was grinning now; his hand had gone down and he was squeezing Toby’s ass. This encounter with Brad wasn’t something Toby would have gone looking for, and he’d certainly never expected it to happen. But he hadn’t been with a man this way for six months. And Brad was an exceptionally good looking guy. So Toby reached down, grabbed Brad’s erection, and said, “I’m very discreet.”

Brad leaned over and kissed his neck. He squeezed his ass harder and said, “I’m just as discreet as you are. You don’t have to worry. As you pointed out, I’m a happily married and I’d like to remain that way. But I don’t see why we can’t become better friends, especially since we have so much in common.”

Toby blinked. “Friends?”

“Very discreet friends who can trust one another completely. You do me a favor; I’ll do you a favor.”

“I see.”

“I hope so. I don’t really have anyone I can trust.”


Brad licked Toby’s earlobe and whispered into his ear. “Can I trust you? I promise you can trust me.”

Toby stroked Brad’s cock gently and smiled. It felt so smooth and warm in his palm he almost gasped. Toby didn’t know any men like himself in New York. He didn’t have anyone he could trust either. And the only time he ever was with men like himself was when he ventured downtown to a little private basement bar in The Village he’d read about in an underground newspaper. And even then they weren’t really like him: they wore loud colors and talked like women. They leered at him and made him feel awkward when they whispered behind his back. He usually wound up leaving before he’d finished his first drink. So he released Brad’s dick and unbuckled his own pants without saying a word. While his heart pumped, he pulled down his zipper and then yanked his pants and his boxer shorts down to his knees at the same time. Then he set his palms on Brad’s chest and sighed.

When he did this, Brad moved forward and rested both hands on his bare ass. Toby closed his eyes and took a breath. He’d forgotten how much he liked to be touched this way by a man. While Brad squeezed and fondled him, he felt a rush and he fell into Brad’s strong arms. Toby squeezed the muscles in Brad’s upper arms and rubbed his cheek against the fabric of Brad’s silky gray suit jacket. He squeezed Brad’s shoulders and ran his palms up and down Brad’s back. Being with a man this way sent shivers through his entire body, especially a real man like Brad. And he did this mainly because it happened so infrequently he had trouble containing his natural instincts.

But Toby also knew this wasn’t going to be a love affair or an emotional experience that he’d recall for the rest of his life. This experience with Brad Lindsay would be the same as his encounter with the rough trucker at the truck stop and the hairy guy at the bowling alley. So after Toby squeezed and inhaled as much of Brad as he could, he decided to move things along without wasting time. He slowly went down on his knees, arched his back, and sucked Brad’s dick into his mouth. He knew this is what Brad wanted by the way Brad was playing with his ass.

Brad’s body jerked. His head went back and he moaned out loud in a way that would have sounded painful if someone had been listening from a distance. He grabbed the sides of Toby’s head gently and spread his legs wider. When Toby took him all the way to the back of his throat and Toby’s lips were buried in his crotch, Toby closed his eyes and inhaled his masculine scent as deeply as he could. He’d almost forgotten how wonderful it was. He remained this way for a long time without moving, taking in as much of Brad as he could. While he did this, Brad applied more pressure to the sides of Toby’s head. At one point, he shoved Toby’s face into his crotch so hard his pubic hair tickled Toby’s nose.

The entire act took less than fifteen minutes, with Toby on his knees the entire time. When Toby started sucking and moving his head back and forth, he grabbed his own dick and started stroking it. One of the things he’d learned about men like Brad Lindsay was that the lines were almost always drawn with respect to who would be on his knees and who would be looking down. And Toby didn’t mind this at all. In fact, he’d always preferred to be the one on his knees looking up.

A second before Brad came, he grabbed Toby’s head and looked down. “Is it okay?”

Toby knew what Brad meant. And it was nice of him to ask. Not all men bothered to ask, not in Toby’s experience. They just grunted and came, and then pulled up their zippers and left. Toby’s eyes went up and they met Brad’s eyes. Toby nodded yes twice, with Brad’s dick almost all the way inside his mouth. Then he started sucking harder and moving his head faster. He applied more pressure with his tongue and his lips until he felt Brad swell and explode. A second after that, while Toby swallowed, Toby stroked out his own load on the white tiled floor between Brad’s legs. By that time Toby’s eyes were still closed and he was still sucking as hard as he had been when Brad had climaxed. It had been so long since the last time Toby had done this he didn’t want to let go of him; he wanted to savor every single minute of this experience for as long as he could for those long lonely night when there would be no one around. At one point, Brad had to literally hold Toby’s face and pry Toby’s lips off his dick.

Brad laughed and took a step back. “Hold on, buddy,” he said. “You’re killing me here. There’s nothing left to give.”

Toby took a quick breath and exhaled. “I’m sorry. I guess I just lost control. It’s been a while.” He sent him an upward glance and smiled. “Thanks.”

Brad went over to the sink and said, “I guess it has been a while. I thought I was going to need a crowbar to pry you away. To be honest, it’s been a while for me, too, and I was going nuts. I should be thanking you.” Then he rinsed his dick with warm water, tapped it on the edge of the sink, shook it off, and shoved it back into his pants damp.

When Toby stood to pull up his pants, Brad reached around and grabbed his ass again. He squeezed it a few times and said, “Thanks, buddy. You’re the best. I really mean that.” And then he left Toby standing beside the urinals with swollen lips and sore knees.

Although this encounter between them was the first and the last they’d ever share, they did become friendlier as the months passed. It wasn’t the type of friendship that Brad had with other guys in the office. Toby didn’t go to baseball games with Brad and he didn’t play poker or golf with him. But they did go out to lunch once in a while and Brad always made sure he stopped in to say hello at least once or twice a day to see how Toby was doing.

This left Toby stunned in more ways than one. After Toby blew Brad in the men’s room, he was certain his job was on the line. He didn’t sleep the entire night or the rest of the weekend. His boss was “happily” married and Toby knew how those things went. And even worse, Brad was married to a senior partner’s daughter. At the very worst, Brad would want him out of the way, if not out of sight completely.  At the very least, he feared Brad would avoid him and ignore him as much as possible. And there would always be that unspoken shame between them.

But when Brad popped his head into Toby’s small office the next Monday morning and said, “Good morning, hot lips,” Toby glanced over at him and pressed his palm to his throat. Brad was smiling and leaning halfway into the doorway. He said he was on his way to a meeting but wanted to say hello on the way.

“Ah well, good morning,” Toby said with a dumbfounded expression. Evidently, he’d underestimated Brad.

Brad looked back over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. He turned back to Toby and asked, “You okay about what happened last Friday night?” Then he laughed, brought his fist to his face, and made fake blow job gestures.

Toby shrugged and smiled. He could still taste Brad’s dick. “I’m good,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about me. I told you I’m discreet.”

Brad exhaled and laughed again. “I’m glad. I had a feeling I could trust you completely. You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to our new friendship.”

“You are?” Toby asked. He had no idea what Brad was talking about.

“Buddy, I’ve been looking for a friend like you for years,” Brad said. He glanced at his watch. “I’m late for the meeting. I just wanted to be sure we’re okay. I don’t want you getting the wrong idea about love or anything. That happened to me once before in college and it was nightmare. I never thought I’d get that guy off my back.”

Toby furrowed his eyebrows. “The wrong idea?”

“You know, about what happened last Friday night,” Brad said. He refrained from making the obscene gesture a second time. “I just want it to be clear it was a one time deal and that it’s not going to happen again. But I’d still like to think we can be friends and help each other out every now and then, if you know what I mean.”

Toby didn’t have a clue. But this was his boss and he didn’t want to lose the best job he’d ever had. He knew there was room for advancement in this agency and he wasn’t going to let a simple blow job ruin his career. Besides, there was something about Brad he liked and he didn’t have any friends like himself. So he shrugged and said, “I know exactly what you mean. And don’t worry. I’m fine about what happened last night. I mean that. And I don’t expect it to happen again.” This was the absolute truth, too. The last thing Toby wanted to do was get involved with a married man. He’d had plenty of chances to get involved with women and get married himself. But he’d never felt right about it.

“I knew I could count on you,” Brad said. He looked at his watch again. “I’ve got to run now. But we’ll make plans; I’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good,” Toby said.

“And I promise,” Brad said. “I’ll take good care of you if you take good care of me.”

Toby smiled and watched him leave. He knew Brad wasn’t talking about anything sexual now. He’d made it clear they would never be lovers again. If Toby had been more experienced he might have understood what Brad’s plans were. But he was still so innocent when it came to these things he couldn’t seem to grasp the reason why Brad would even want to pursue a friendship with him.

Free Weekend Excerpt: Small Town Romance Writer

Free Weekend Excerpt: Small Town Romance Writer

I just submitted the ms for Small Town Romance Writer to the publisher and while it’s all still fresh I thought I’d post another raw, unpublished version here. This book ran over 113,000 words by the time I sent it off, and so far I haven’t heard any screams from the publisher. The average e-book romance novel runs about 60,000 words, and I’m usually contracted to only write 50,000 words. I thought this book needed more depth, and I couldn’t help running over word count this time.

The basic premise of the book is literary gay author vs smutty erotic romance gay author. And even though no one will believe me, this book is not even closely related to my own life as a writer. I did take from some of my experiences, but the reason I made the two main characters so different was because I wanted to show how two different writers go through life with different POVs.

In any event, here’s the excerpt. In this scene, Travis, one main character, meets someone he really likes and doesn’t even realize this until he discovers the guy might be dating someone else. It shows how passive Travis can sometimes be a bit aggressive, and it’s highly out of character for him to react this way.

It was evident Scottie didn’t know Ethan very well. Ethan had once had a bad haircut when they’d lived together in Iowa and Travis had told him the truth then. Ethan took his criticism so seriously that time he wound up wearing a baseball cap for the next month. After that experience Travis had learned it was much safer to lie to Ethan in some cases. Like that time he wore an ugly red shirt to a party and he asked Travis for his opinion. The shirt was so bad it made Travis cringe. But he smiled and told Ethan, “I love it. It’s the best shirt I’ve ever seen and I might even ask if I can borrow it in the future.” This made Ethan smile for the rest of the night, and he had no idea everyone else at the party was talking about the guy in the ugly red shirt.  Oh, Travis had learned the hard way what Ethan didn’t know would never hurt him.

            “I have to think about it for a while,” Travis said. “I can’t keep avoiding him forever.”

            “You’ll figure it out,” Scottie said. Then he hesitated for a second. “I have to ask you something. When you say we’re taking things slowly and this is a casual relationship does that mean we’re both allowed to see other people.”

            Travis smiled at his innocence. The poor kid was worried he would date other men. “Yes,” he said. “We are allowed to see other people. After all, this is a long distance causal relationship. It would be unrealistic for you to assume I’m not going to see other people.”

            “I’m not talking about you,” Scottie said.

            Travis opened his eyes wider. “I don’t understand.” He hadn’t expected this.

            “This guy asked me out this morning,” Scottie said. “And I said I would think about it. I wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”

            Well. It didn’t take himlong to find someone else. Travis had underestimated him in more than one way. But he didn’t want Scottie to think he was upset about this, so he laughed it off and said, “It’s fine with me. We are both free to see anyone, or do anything, we want to do. No strings attached.”

            “Good, that’s a huge relief,” Scottie said. “I’m kind of new at all this, and I didn’t want to go out with someone else without talking to you first.”

            “What’s this guy like?” Travis asked. “I’m just curious in a basic sense. It’s not that I care or anything.” He felt a lump in his throat. He hadn’t even thought about going out with anyone else yet.

            “He’s a nice guy,” Scottie said. “He’s about your age and he owns a few small coffee shops in Providence. He has a weekend place in P’town on the East End. You might even know him.”

            Travis placed his palm to his chest and sat up higher. “Is his name Glen?” Provincetown was a small community, and everyone knew everyone else. He’d met a guy named Glen at a few parties and gallery receptions who owned coffee shops in Providence and had a weekend place on the East End. From what he could recall, this Glen was not around his age. He was closer to forty than thirty. He had a good body, but he dyed his hair that obnoxious jet black some middle age men think makes them look younger. And he had the thinnest lips Travis had ever seen on a man.

            “Yes, his name is Glen,” Scottie said. “Do you know him?”

            Travis forced himself not to groan aloud. “Does he have dyed black hair and big white teeth? And painfully thin lips? And does he have a tendency to blink with his entire face a little too much?”

            Scottie laughed. “I’m not sure if his hair is dyed, but it is black and he does have a tendency to blink every now and then. I get coffee at his shop in the morning on my way to class, and this morning we started talking and he asked me out.”

            “I’ll bet he did,” Travis said. He also knew this Glen had a reputation for going after younger men in their twenties. “But just so you know, he’s not around my age. I’m thirty-two. He’s more like forty-two. Maybe even fifty-two for all I know. He’s an old man.”

            “Well I didn’t ask him his exact age,” Scottie said. “It doesn’t matter to me and I didn’t want to be rude. What’s wrong? You sound upset.”

            “I’m not upset about anything,” Travis said. He felt like kicking the chair. “If you want to go out with that old man, who am I to say anything.” Maybe he was one of those younger guys that liked the old ones.

            “Good,” Scottie said. “I’m glad I asked you about it. I have to go study now. I’ll talk to you over the weekend.”

            Travis didn’t want to wait until the weekend. He wanted to know more about this Glen and what he was up to with Scottie. “I’ll call you tomorrow night around this same time,” he said.

            “Call me on Friday night around this time,” Scottie said. “I told Glen I’d get back to him about dinner tomorrow night. And since you’re okay with it, I’m going to call him as soon as I hang up with you. You’re sure it’s okay.”

            Travis kicked the wall. “Of course it’s okay. I’ll call you on Friday night. Have fun with the old guy tomorrow night.”

            When Travis went to bed that night, he tossed and turned so much he had to get up and take a sleeping pill. He never took pills to go to sleep. He’d always been one of those people who could fall into bed and drift off to sleep without any problems at all. He kept thinking about Scottie going out with that hideous old creature with big teeth and dyed black hair that lived up on the East End, of all places. Travis owned a home on the West End, where a more residential dignified group lived. Like most gay men in his position, he cared about his address. He was surrounded by Boston attorneys and people who spent the winters in Key West. The gay couple across the street from him owned radio stations and the gay guy who owned the house behind him came from an old Boston family that had made their money in shoe laces. Travis wouldn’t have been caught renting in the East End, let alone owning a home. In his opinion, the East End had always been for tourists and those who walked through town all summer licking ice cream cones with flip flops on their feet and short that bunched up in their crotches. 

            By the time he finally did fall asleep, he had dreams of the hideous Glen creature dancing at the A-housewith Scottie. He woke up around seven in the morning at the exact moment this Glen creature was about to make love to Scottie. He had Scottie in his arms; they were both leaning backward in the middle of Commercial Street in front of Spiritus Pizza, and all Travis could see were Glen’s big white bleached teeth moving toward Scottie’s beautiful young lips. Travis sat up in bed, with his heart racing and sweat rolling down his face, and punched the pillow so hard he bruised his knuckles on the headboard.

            He spent the rest of the day trying to work. He tried as hard as he could to write that article about gender power in gay fiction, but he kept thinking about Glen’s big white choppers moving toward Scottie’s lips. He grew so frustrated he ripped a sheet of paper from his typewriter, crunched it in his fist, and stormed out of the house. He walked all the way to Herring Cove with his hands in his pockets and his head down to avoid anyone he knew.

            He tried to rationalize his feelings because he’d been the one who had insisted they keep things casual. He couldn’t blame Scottie for going out with Glen. Besides, he’d said it didn’t bother him. When he realized how alive he felt, and how long it had been since he’d cared this much about another guy, he decided not to call Scottie on Friday night. He called him late on Thursday night instead.

            The phone rang about six times and he almost hung up. It was after midnight and he had a feeling Scottie had decided to go home with the old man who owned the coffee shops. He felt a little silly by then, and he didn’t want Scottie to think he was a lunatic stalker.

            Then Scottie picked up and said, “Hello?”

            “It’s me,” Travis said, in a casual tone. Scottie obviously didn’t have caller ID. He could have just hung up and Scottie would never have known he’d called.

            “Hey,” Scottie said. “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing’s wrong,” Travis said.

            “Well it’s after midnight,” Scottie said. “People usually call at that hour when something’s wrong. Are you sure you’re okay?”

            Travis clenched his fist and took a quick breath. “I told you I’m fine. I just called to see how your date went.”

            “It didn’t happen,” Scottie said. “There was some kind of crisis at one of Glen’s coffee shops and he had to cancel. He promised me he would make it up, though. He said he’d bring me up to his house in P’town this weekend. He’s picking me up on Saturday. Isn’t that great? We should all plan to get together for tea dance on Sunday at the Boat Slip.”

            So now this creepy white-toothed idiot was taking Scottie to P’town for the weekend. This made Travis want to pick up the phone, hurl it at the window, and throw it into the bay. But he took a deep breath and counted to ten.

            “Are you still there?” Scottie asked.

            “Yes,” I’m still here, Travis said in his calmest voice.

            “Are you free on Sunday afternoon?” Scottie asked. “I’ll tell Glen.”

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