⭐️Curves In The Road by Amy K.Mcclungs⭐️ 



Author: Amy K. McClung

Title: Curves in the Road
Series: Southern Devotion, Book 2
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 6, 2017
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Designer: Claire Smith

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Living in Nashville with his daughter, Katelyn, single dad Derrick Collins’s main goal is to provide a good life for his daughter. With no social life to speak of, he knows it’s time for a change. He just needs to find the perfect woman who will complete his happy family. The problem is he’s already met her and let her go.

Mary Jane Evans’s life took a path she could only dream of. Though leaving her home in Nashville meant saying goodbye to childhood friends, family, and the first man she ever loved. Now she has to choose if she will return or continue her new journey.

With a decision to make, is it possible for two lost loves to find their way back to each other or are there too many curves in the road?

Most people fall in love several times over a lifetime, but one always sticks out more than others, whether you end up with them or they are the one who got away.
When I was five, I thought I was in love with my best friend, Jimmy, who lived next door. That changed when he fed my favorite Barbie doll to the dog, breaking my heart. When I was ten, I fell for my schoolmate Robbie when he helped me up after someone pushed me into the mud. My heart later shattered when my dad told me we were moving to the big city of Nashville from our small backwoods town in Kentucky, and I had to say goodbye to him. At fifteen, I fell for Marcus Jacobs, the smartest guy in school. He was our valedictorian, and I never told him how I felt. He “came out of the closet” after high school. And then I turned twenty-one and met Derrick Collins.
Derrick was the guy who made me realize that I’d never known love before I met him. Reading about toes-tingling, heart-stopping kisses, and romantic gestures, I always questioned whether such things existed. My lifelong question was answered the first time we kissed, and I felt it course through my body from my lips straight to my toes with electric pulses racing everywhere in between.
Growing up, I always had an issue with weight and never felt comfortable with the opposite sex. Puberty hit and my waistline expanded more than my breasts. Luckily, I had a growth spurt around sixteen. I was taller than average, five eight to be exact, with blonde hair and light green eyes, with that I was happy. My pants size was a different story. My hips were curvy, and my breasts caught up to them, although they didn’t point forward as much as my hips pointed outward.
With friends like mine who built my confidence every day, I thought I knew what it meant to feel beautiful. It wasn’t until the day I felt Derrick’s undeniable passion for me that I truly felt like the goddess Cameron always tried to convince me I was. I’d tried every diet known to man to be skinny; it just was not in the cards for me, and I’d come to terms with that fact. My body may not have been perfect, but I ate right, and I wasn’t lazy. It was just my luck I had a crappy metabolism that allowed me to maintain a softer, slightly rounder stomach. Did it frustrate me? Yes. I would’ve loved to be one of those women who ate anything they wanted and never gained a pound. However, life didn’t deal me that hand, and I’d become content with myself.
It’s true that having a boyfriend wasn’t the most important thing in life, but it sure was nice. I loved my time with Derrick. I didn’t need him to make me happy; I wanted it. Derrick made the sky bluer, chocolate taste sweeter, and the sun shine brighter, at least it seemed that way with him in my life. Prince Charming had nothing on this man. At times I became discouraged, but Derrick was there to make me laugh. Other than Cameron, no other man had told me I was beautiful in a way that made me believe it. He was practically perfect in every way, like a male version of Mary Poppins. Wow, that wasn’t sexy I guess, but if Derrick was one thing for sure, it was sexy.
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 Southern Devotion Series 
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Amy McClung was born in Nashville, TN. She is the second oldest of four girls and occasionally suffers from middle-child syndrome. She met the love of her life online in August of 2004, on his birthday of all days, and married him in September 2005.

Currently they have no human children, only the room full of colorful robots that transform into vehicles and the large headed Pop Funkos who represent their favorite characters. Collecting movies, shot glasses, Pop Funkos, and dust bunnies are some of her favorite pastimes.

Amy began writing in September of 2011 and independently published her first YA novel, Cascades of Moonlight, Book one of the Parker Harris series the following May. Her first book was a means of therapy for her, enabling her to escape reality for a while during a difficult transition in her life.

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⭐️Night Walker by Aaron L Speer⭐️

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Night Walker

(Undeadly Secrets Book 1)

By Aaron L Speer

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You’ll Never Look at Sydney the Same Way Again!

Genre: Paranormal
Print Length: 268 pages
Publication Date: September 3, 2014

AVAILABLE NOW: http://mybook.to/NightWalker

Teaser 3

Blurb

Raised by her aunt as a baby after the death of her father and her mother being institutionalized, Alexandra “Alex” Hensley grew up determined to put the past behind her. As such, her boyfriend Matt and best friend Lauren, became her new family, and her love for them was unquestioned.

On a night out, the trio meet Dante Delavega, owner of the hottest nightclub in Sydney. Despite Lauren’s advances, Delavega hovers over Alex like a mysterious, protective shadow, all but completely ignoring her friends. His actions flatter Alex but confuse and anger both Lauren and Matt.

To prevent losing the two people that have been there for her for as long as she can remember, Alex feels she owes it to them and herself to find out what it is about Dante that is pulling them apart. But once she delves into his world, Alex cannot go back. For Dante holds the key to the truth about her family. When Alex discovers what really happened to her parents, she unlocks an Australian secret kept hidden since the First Fleet.

But no truth comes without a cost. A secret of this magnitude has remained due to one simple rule: they join us or die. Suddenly, Matt and Lauren disappear and Dante’s greatest battle begins. Can he truly save Alex? Or will Alex have to make the ultimate sacrifice, for those she loves?

Teaser 1

How About A Taste of Speerverse?

Alice Ballinger of 2OCCReviews had an opportunity to sit down and chat with Aaron and one of the stars of Night Walker Last May. We thought a few of her questions might help you get a taste of what awaits you in Speerverse.

(I) = Interviewer (D) = Dante (AS) = Aaron
First Up… Dante was in the hot seat:
(I): What is your preferred type in a woman? Do you prefer a woman in heels? Dressed up or casual? Make-up/natural? Long hair or short? Perfume or none? Assertive/Submissive?
(D): It is a cliché, but I truly do not care what modern society’s standards are for attractiveness. A woman is a woman. They are all different. Some feel the need for heavy make up, some light or none. Some pay attention to fashion trends, others don’t care. Some enjoy BDSM style sex, others dabble, some would never go near it. My perfect woman, is and always has been herself. Do what you want, be and say what you want. But do it for you. Not me or anyone else. Alex is kind, and is so not for the benefit of anyone else, it’s just who she is. My perfect woman is assertive and submissive. Whichever is truly herself.
(I): Are you ever worried that Aaron will get himself into trouble by delving into your world? Have you taken precautions to prevent this?
(D): No. As far as everyone is concerned, this is only a story. Not real life. That’s the best way for it to be. As long as they think this is purely fiction, as long as you believe this is him answering these questions, the only thing Aaron has to worry about is bad reviews.
(I): What is your ideal perfect date?
(D): A walk along Sydney harbour, her with a bottle of wine in one hand, my hand in the other. We tell stupid, made up stories, and laugh at the ridiculous. We end the night slowly kissing under the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the stars.
(AS): THAT’S where you end the night?
(D): A great date doesn’t have to mean ending up having sex.
(AS): But the BEST do though!
(D): Well…I’ll give you that. Therefore that wouldn’t be where we would end the night.
(AS): YAS! You sexy beast.
(D): Possibly…
Next it was time for the Man Himself :
(I): Why did you decide to write a book?
(AS): Hello! Because I lurve to write! That and I never had the voice to sing nor the looks to act.
(I): Do you relate to any of your characters?

(AS): All of them in some way. Even the bad guys. We all have evil in us, there is no doubt, but it is the choice to do right, for no reward that separates good people and bad.

Teaser 2

What Do Reviewers Have To Say?

“Aaron Speer leaves you wanting so much more!!! … tons of tension (sexual and otherwise) and suspense to keep you turning the pages desperate to know…” ~ Michele G., Author and Blogger at #Minxes Love Books

“As far as Vampire books go, this one was a phenomenal one…. ” ~ Amber P., Blogger at Nerd Girl

“Just when I thought I had read every good book about vampires Night Walker comes in and proves me wrong… ~ Ruty B., Blogger at Reading Dreaming Book Blog

“Speer baits you, then hooks you, never letting you go.” ~ Brianna W., Author

“This book not only has the vamps that I love. But the world that is created sucked me in, and isn’t going to let me go for a long time to come.” ~ Pam N., Reader and Speerverse Fanatic

Add it to your GoodReads Shelf: http://bit.ly/2r03TYx

AVAILABLE NOW: http://mybook.to/NightWalker

Available Now

CATCH THE WHOLE UNDEADLY SECRETS SERIES by Aaron L Speer

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Vampires and Werewolves Oh My! Speer has all of your PNR book boyfriend needs covered: Which one is going to make you fall?

Night Walker (Book 1) : http://mybook.to/NightWalker
Introduces us to Dante Delavega: The Ultimate Self-Sacrificing Protector.
Day Dreamer (Book 2): http://mybook.to/DyDreamer
Introduces us to Nick Slade: The Young Hot Romantic.
Shadow Chaser (Book 3): http://mybook.to/ShdwChsrAS
Introduces us to Lee Nightingale: The Unapologetic Bad Boy.

Other Books by Aaron

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The Independents:

A traditionally published author decides to self publish a new work in the hopes of igniting her stalled career. Despite roaring success, she uses lies and a fake author personality to build up a following. Her deceitful tactics come to the attention of The Independents, who have a message for her. One that may not stop with words on a screen…

You Insult One. You Insult Them All!

Available Now: http://myBook.to/IndiesSPS

*All of Aaron’s Books are Currently Available on Kindle Unlimited

Works In Progress

The Independents II
Pack Master (Undeadly Secrets Book 4)

Author Bio

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Aaron loves writing adult paranormal fiction. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts….oh my. He’s been writing since he was 11 but has always been a dreamer……often getting caught staring off into space as he created stories in his mind.

When not spending time with family he enjoys dragging his forever patient wife to watch his beloved St George Illawarra Dragons, going to the movies for the latest blockbusters, going to the gym for his dream body. Or just a body. Anything, really.

He and his beautiful wife just welcomed their first child into the world. The New Prince of Speerverse seems to take after his father in his want to build the tension as high as possible…making his parents and loved ones wait 3 long days for him to make his entrance. The ecstatic parents live with the love of their lives in Sydney, Australia; the setting for the majority of Speer’s works.

Stalk Links

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Want More of the Man, Himself? Aaron Loves to interact with fans, potential fans or basically anyone looking for a good time, good conversations and especially….Great Books! He’s a people person. So, he’s made it really easy to stalk…erm…I mean contact him in lots of fun ways. Check them all out here:

FB Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/aaronlspeer/
Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2enuF5L
GoodReads Author Page: http://bit.ly/2ie0qRq
BookBub Author Page: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/aaron-l-speer
Newsletter Sign-Up Form: http://bit.ly/2exvxYK
Blog: https://aaron1185.wordpress.com/

Join other Speerverse Fanatics here: http://bit.ly/2qKTMG7

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#AaronLSpeer #JoLawless #LelaGraycePA

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⭐️Knight Takes Pawn by Martha Sweeney⭐️

 
Author: Martha Sweeney
Title: Knight Takes Pawn
Series: Red Knight #1
Release Date: March 21, 2017
 
 
 

Jagger rules everything. The cities from the elite districts, to the slums, and everything in between are his domain in one of three sovereigns on the planet Jaru. The only law is Jagger Law which can change at any moment. One wrong look or word can get a body part chopped off or have you killed.

Since the beginning of the war, which was almost over three decades ago, the air has had been stale and musty, still smelling of burnt metal. All resources needed to survive are severely limited, causing many Jaruians to pillage one another just to get a single meal for the day.

There are some who wish to end Jagger’s power and they’ve started to infiltrate his organization. Money, amongst other things, are just a farce that Jagger uses to dangle in front of his subjects to keep the population in line and distracted. Those who want to see the end of Jagger’s reign want to take control over the depleting natural resources in order to save the planet and the Jaruian species.

Natalie gets caught up in Jagger’s twisted game of power and control when she’s taken from her sovereign. Against her will, like all women who are caught, Natalie is thrown into the Jaruian sex trade. With her new, unwanted job responsibilities, Natalie takes a stand, willing to die fighting for her life rather than be used. When an opportunity presents itself, is Natalie willing to do whatever it takes to free herself or remain only a pawn?

WARNING: This series contains sensitive material. Reader discretion is advised.

 
  
 
 
 

One – Natalie

The taste of copper coats my tongue as a ringing echoes in my ears. My head throbs from the blow administered after the dacker flailed his body backward, slamming me against the wall. I almost lose my grip on the now sweat-slicked chain, but I refuse to let go. He bucks a second time, forcing my head to fly back and collide with the barrier again. Though I’m wedged between him and the cold, gritty wall, I can tell that he’s on his last few breaths of life.

His fingers frantically claw at the metal that’s wrapped around his neck as his body becomes stiffer with each passing second. Faint gurgling sounds escape his open mouth as he desperately tries to suck in air. His body starts to slump, but my tired muscles flex harder, coaxing his fate to settle in more quickly. After about ten more seconds, his fat, greasy body collapses to the floor.

Positioning my right, bare foot in the middle of his back, I yank even harder on the chain. When the coloration on his face starts to change, I finally begin to slacken the reins. My arms shake violently from how long my muscles have been tense.

While I wait for the others to return, I sit on the edge of the bed with my back against the headboard as my knees are curled up to my chest. I’m unable to cry because that’s what I’ve done the majority of the time for the past few days since they captured me.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but some time later, two guards from earlier come barging into the room which is locked from the outside. They shout profanities and some other words I can’t make out, obviously commenting on the scene displayed before them. It’s not that I can’t understand them; they’re speaking Jaruian. It’s that my brain doesn’t focus on any single word as they bounce around in my head like a set of drums.

One of them comes close to me. His arms whipping around in the air as more unheard words escape from his rank hole. I don’t bother to look at him and continue to stare at the man I just killed. I’ve never taken a life before and I’m not sure how to feel about it. Mixed emotions run through me, but regret is not one of them. It was either him or me, and I chose him. The asshole paid money, I’m not sure how much, to have his way with me for a few hours.

My head flying to the left is paired with a sharp stinging grabs my attention. I don’t whimper. I don’t cry. Everything that has happened to me the past few days feels even more surreal now.

“The boss will hear about this, bitch,” one of the voices threatens.

I guess his slap brought me back to reality, allowing me to finally comprehend their words. My eyes lift to find his. I stare him down, hoping that he sees the anger and hatred in my gaze. He inches his face closer to mine, but I don’t budge.

“Let her be,” the other one states.

“What for?” he questions. “She dacking killed him.”

“The dacker had it coming,” the other says. “Boss didn’t like him that much. He always marked up the girls bad enough where they’d be out of commission for a few days. He was costin’ us money.”

“Whatever,” he huffs, turning away from me. “Help me get him out of here.”

I’m left inside the room without another word. The only sounds that are distinguishable are the door lock being switched into place, the faint percussion of music seeping in through the walls, and my heart pounding in my chest.

The small, makeshift bedroom with a bathroom, that is missing a door, still wreaks of that bastard’s body odor, causing me to dry heave a little. I’m not sure if I’m above or below ground since there isn’t a window in my tiny domicile.

I was knocked out right after they grabbed and bagged me just a few blocks from my home. When I woke up, I had a massive headache that could have been from either being hit over the head or drugged—perhaps both. Sensations of being fondled during my transportation fade in and out each time I dream or am touched by anyone, especially men.

Not long after I arrived, they had a group of women clean me up. My clothes were removed and they bathed me in a large, cement bath that was embedded in the middle of the floor of the room. I timidly kept my body covered as much as I could as they washed and rewashed my body to get rid of all of the dirt and stains. My hair was washed twice before they ushered me to another area. The women hand dried my body with small hand towels and then had me lay down on a leather-bound table where they then proceeded to wax my legs, underarms and genital region. My hair was trimmed next and styled before I was given a thin, skimpy dress to wear without a bra or panties. The women chatted quietly on occasion as they tended to me and most offered me an apologetic smile when we made eye contact.

Once I was ready, the ladies knocked on the door I originally entered. Two guards reached forward, grabbing my upper arms forcefully and escorted me away. They flanked me on either side as we followed one in front of us with one more trailing behind. I was then led to the room where I currently reside and given some food. They gave me just enough to take me away from the edge of hunger, but not enough to fully nourish me.

Two meals came each day with a small snack in between them. The food wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t good either. They gave me some juice a couple of times, but mostly water. If I needed more to drink, I was left drinking from the questionable sink in the bathroom with the use of my hands. Utensils were never given with my food, even if the option was not finger-food.

Yesterday, I was inspected by a male doctor while two other women were in the room. None of them said anything other than the doctor directing me to stand or move as he checked my body. He was very thorough and took a lot of notes.

Each night I’ve slept, it hasn’t been much. I wake to every little noise, worried that an unwelcomed intruder will arrive. I wasn’t exactly sure what they wanted from me, what they had planned, but I had a pretty good guess and it was confirmed when they let that bastard into my room tonight.

A familiar sound draws me from my thoughts and I stare at the closed door, hoping that I was only imagining it. The wooden door creaks open and three men walk into the room. My throat dries and my palms begin to sweat, nervous by their blank expressions. I recognize the two from before, but not the third. I silently pray to the Gods, if they even exist, that he’s not the next customer in line.

“What is your name?” the unfamiliar man asks.

My body trembles with fear as I can’t find the ability to answer him; nor do I want to.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says softly after a few more seconds of waiting for me to respond. He shifts closer and sits on the foot of the bed.

I watch him carefully, concerned with what he may do to me.

His eyes drift down to the spot on the ground where my victim previously laid. “Is that where it happened?” he asks, gesturing in front of him. “Is that where you killed him?”

I don’t follow his hand as I try to gauge his tone and expression. He almost seems amused rather than pissed at the fact that I killed the man.

His eyes lift to my face and his eyebrows raise a little.

I nod.

His gaze drifts down my body and back up. “Where did the chain come from?”

“He brought it in with him, sir,” one of the goons states. From the sound of his voice, it’s the dacker who hit me.

“Who let him bring in his own toys?” the man, who seems to be in charge, asks sharply.

They both remain quiet.

The one in charge slides closer and reaches forward toward me. I flinch, but it doesn’t seem to surprise him. He waits a few seconds before taking my chin. My gaze returns to him. The look in his eye tells me that he doesn’t intend to hurt me. His large, rough hand gently guides my head to turn a few inches to the left and then right. “Which one of you struck her?” he questions a little more calmly.

“Breaker, sir,” the one who didn’t hit me states.

“Quiet,” Breaker seethes through his teeth.

“Leave us,” the man directs.

“Sir?” the one called Breaker questions.

The man in charge shoots to a standing position and without another word, the two guards comply. Once the door is closed behind them, he turns back around and faces me. “I’m not a fan of my good paying clientele being killed,” he states calmly.

I don’t comment, fairly confident that he’ll do something to me regardless if I do speak and doesn’t care what my response would be.

“Do you know who I am?” he inquires.

My head bobs slightly, confident that I know his name; Jagger.

He takes a step forward and studies me for a moment. “You did do me a bit of a favor, though,” he states eerily. “He was costing me some money…more than what he was paying now that I think about it.”

I squeeze my hands together more, nervous about how this can play out.

“But, I still can’t have my clients being killed when they pay to have their way with you.” He pauses for a few seconds. “Though…it was his own fault for bringing in the chain.”

Staring at him, I’m not sure what he expects me to do. I will fight to the death to protect myself.

“I’m guessing you aren’t sorry,” he assumes. “And, why should you be. He would have broken you…physically…but, I’m not so sure that he would have broken your spirit.” He takes two steps forward and places his left hand under his chin as he supports one arm with the other. “And, I’m guessing that you’d put up another fight if I sent another client in here, wouldn’t you?”

I don’t comment, but I’m sure he can read my thoughts when he looks into my eyes.

After a few moments of silence, he says, “However…I think I just might have an idea that would work for the both of us.”

 
 
 
 
 

Martha Sweeney is an Amazon Best-Selling author with five complete novels and a coloring book. With a B.S. in Psychology, Martha utilizes her knowledge of human and animal behavior successfully in the business world and in her writing. She’s been creative since she was little, always drawing, coloring or making crafts, so her venture into being an author was a natural transition. Martha writes in a variety of genres, constantly pushing herself as story-teller.

She lives in sunny California with her husband and enjoys writing poolside most months out of the year.

 
  

Punishing me by Cat Mason 

Punishing Me, Shaft On Tour, Book 6
By Cat Mason
Release Date: April 2, 2016

Book Blurb

Being the new bassist for Shaft is a dream come true for Ireland Tyler. Sold out stadiums and screaming fans are just bonuses to being able to play music she loves. The only downside is it brings her face to face with a blast from her past and her only regret: Dominick Bradford.

The second in command of security for the band may go by Mack now, but all Ireland sees is the boy who used her and left her broken hearted when they were just seventeen years old. Could this be her chance at revenge after all these years, or will it cause old feelings to rise to the surface and cost more than she is prepared to give?

Mack has been the number two and the butt of most jokes for as long as he can remember. When he is suddenly thrust into the top dog position he is determined to prove he has what it takes to run the security team during the last leg of the tour.

The only thing he didn’t count on was Ireland Tyler.

The wild and crazy bassist is far from the sweet and naïve girl he met all those years ago and it has him wondering how well he really knew her at all. Will Mack be able to resist her and do his job, or will he be consumed by the flames and be the one left wanting more this time?

Buy The Book

Buy Punishing Me

Other Books In The Series

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About The Author

 

title

Cat Mason is a thirty year old, married mother of three. When she isn’t writing; she is spending time with her kiddos or reading. She was born and raised outside of St. Louis, Missouri, just over the Mississippi River in Granite City, Illinois. Cat writes romance of all kinds with twists of humor.

Connect With Cat

Website / Email / Facebook / Goodreads

Amazon / Twitter / Pinterest

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💫🌟Handyman by Claire Thompson💫🌟

Title: Handyman
By: Claire Thompson
Genre: M/M Erotic Romance
Tour Host: DRC Promotions

Synopsis

What can a sophisticated Wall Street trader and a simple handyman possibly have in common?

Handsome, sexy and gay, Will Spencer uses and discards lovers as easily as he trades stocks. He is used to taking what—and who—he wants.

Jack Crawford, a recently widowed handyman, never thought of himself as gay. Frightened by an erotic encounter years before, Jack has never embraced his deepest sexual longings.

In an unlikely pairing, Will and Jack explore an incendiary relationship, sometimes humorous, sometimes heartbreaking, always scintillatingly erotic. Jack is forced to confront feelings he’s hidden for a lifetime. Will is faced with something he isn’t sure he can handle—love.

Warning: Hot, delicious male/male erotic romance. Danger: Explicit m/m sex.

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Excerpt

Will awoke with a start, his body jerking in response to a half-remembered dream. He was sitting in his living room, an empty brandy glass still clutched in one hand. After he sent Jack away he’d proceeded to pour himself way too much brandy and drink it all, cursing himself all the while.

I had him. He was reaching out to me. And I rebuffed him. I sent him home like we were characters in some stupid romantic comedy from the fifties. Doris Day and Rock Hudson. Now he’ll go home, sober up and thank God he got out of that one. I’ll never hear from him again. I’m such a fucking idiot.

Will sighed and pressed his hands to his head, which was throbbing dully. Wearily he stood and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water from the new faucet Jack had helped him pick out and stood silently admiring the space.

Jack was more than a handyman, more than a carpenter. He was an artist. The room was elegant, functional and pleasing to the eye. One would never have looked at the burly, masculine Jack and assumed he was capable of such artistry. Will realized he was holding on to a stereotype in reverse—assuming a straight man like Jack wouldn’t be capable of creating something beautiful.

Will drank the glass of water and poured another. Yes, he’d sent Jack away but, though he’d maybe lost an opportunity, he knew he had done the right thing. Any potential erotic feelings Jack was experiencing were too tentative to be taken advantage of while he was under the influence of alcohol. He might have been able to squeeze a one-night something out of it, but that wasn’t what he wanted.

For whatever reason, he had to admit he wanted something more with Jack. Unlike Paul and all the other sex partners he’d had over the years, he felt a connection with Jack he couldn’t explain. It made no sense when he tried to analyze it—Jack wasn’t particularly handsome, he was too old, he was straight, or even if he wasn’t, he came with a lot of baggage to shuck off before they could really have a meaningful relationship. Why would Will want to bother with someone like that? Why waste his time and energy? He could have his pick of men—why choose one so unlikely?

Why indeed? What made a person fall in love? Was it really something so simple as the way the other person smiled when you talked? The way he stroked the wall before applying paint, feeling for any hidden roughness he would sand away? Was it the way he’d touched Will’s elbow as he stood close behind him at the pool table, guiding him with a gentle, sure touch that spoke of his quiet self-assurance? Was it his scent, a sexy combination of male essence and whatever soap he used, mixed with the fresh laundry scent of his faded, soft denim work shirts?

Am I in love?

Surely it was too soon to say. Will knew he was in lust. He knew he wanted to explore Jack’s newfound interest, if that’s what it was. He was dying to pick up the phone and call him—just to see if he got home okay, if he was okay with what they’d talked about. He looked at his watch. Two a.m. was a little late to be checking, seeing as he’d sent the guy away hours before.

With a sigh, he hauled himself off to bed.

~*~

In the morning a single beam of light fell onto Jack’s face, waking him. Before he was fully conscious he knew something had changed. Something had happened that made him feel different, though still in a semi-sleep state, he couldn’t recall what it was.

He became aware of the chirping of birds outside his bedroom window. He sat up and opened his eyes, squinting in the bright sunlight to see two robins, their red breasts proudly puffed as they whistled their springy duet. Jack smiled. He’d always regarded seeing robins as a sign of good luck.

He glanced at the clock. It was after nine. He rarely slept this late. Must have been all that brandy. The night returned to him with a flash, scrolling across his brain like a silent movie. He lay back against the pillows and put his hands behind his head. Just what exactly had gone on last night?

He tried to recall Will’s precise words. I feel a kindred connection, something between us that sometimes I imagine you feel too. I have this crazy idea maybe we could explore it—together.

Men didn’t say that sort of thing to one another. Not straight men, anyway. Yet when Will had said it, Jack hadn’t recoiled, though he hadn’t known how to respond. He felt the same way, really. At least as far as feeling a certain connection—an easiness he rarely felt with anyone.

Will had crept up on him. He’d slipped past Jack’s usual reserve with his disarming admiration and open friendliness. Was that all it was? Was Jack merely lonely? Was Will the first person to bother, since Emma had been gone, to push past his defenses?

Or was there something more? Did he find Will attractive? As a man? As a potential…lover?

Just the word made Jack flush, though he was alone in the room in his empty house. Did he flush because the idea repulsed him? Or because it excited him? Was he finally ready, twenty-six years after the fact, to explore whatever homoerotic feelings he might have buried beneath a lifetime of denial?

Jack got up and went into the bathroom, his bladder for the moment distracting him from his ruminations. After he peed, he turned on the shower and waited for the spray to heat as he shucked off his pajama bottoms and underwear.

He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. What could Will possibly see in him? He was in his forties, the hair on his chest going gray, the laugh lines around his eyes pronounced, as were the grooves along either side of his mouth.

His body was still strong and firm, as a result of steady, hard physical work all his life. No gym workouts and tennis games to keep in shape, not for Jack Crawford. He’d built his muscles through the labor of his back and the sweat of his brow. He grinned at himself, aware for a horrible moment he sounded just like his father.

He turned sideways, consciously holding in his stomach and thrusting out his chest. Then he laughed out loud. He was being ridiculous—acting as vain as any insecure kid.

He climbed into the shower and soaped up his body and his hair, his mind returning to Will. Will’s body was lean and firm—the body of an athlete. He was definitely good-looking—almost too good-looking, Jack thought. The kind of man whose face you’d see in an ad for men’s cologne or fine Italian loafers.

Will had the look of an aristocrat, that’s the word Jack was groping for. He was young, rich and smart. Why in the hell was he interested in Jack?

Was he interested in Jack?

Will might have meant only and precisely what he’d said—that he liked and admired Jack. That didn’t mean he wanted to have anything more, did it? Just because he was gay didn’t mean he wanted to jump into bed with every guy he came into contact with.

Jack rinsed in the hot spray and soaped himself up again, this time lingering over his cock and balls. He sighed with pleasure as his cock elongated and hardened beneath his fingers. He closed his eyes, lifting his face to the hot spray as he massaged his shaft.

Will… Despite himself, Jack saw those brilliant green eyes, fixed so intently upon him. He felt for one ridiculous heart-stopping moment Will was actually there, watching him stroke himself in the shower.

Would Will like to watch such a thing? Jack flushed at the thought but tried not to censor himself from thinking it. Did Will have sexual fantasies about him? Was he way off the mark about Will’s feelings for him? After all, he’d only said he liked him. He’d said he enjoyed spending time with him. Yet when he had tried to respond in kind, admittedly in a clumsy, drunken ramble, Will had sent him away—dismissed him. Though part of him was relieved, it rankled nonetheless.

“My God, give it a rest, Crawford,” Jack said aloud. “For all I know, the guy has zero interest, no intentions. Here I am, gearing up for some kind of gay encounter and Will has probably forgotten the whole thing. Jesus, I’m pathetic.”

He forced himself to think of a naked woman as he finished jerking himself off. Just as he ejaculated his libido got the better of his conscious mind, thrusting the image of Will, bent over the pool table, his hair falling into his eyes, his lips parted as he prepared for a shot…

Jack finished his shower and roughly toweled himself dry. If only he hadn’t finished the job at Will’s place already. He prided himself on working steady and fast—it was a big reason he got repeat business, maybe the main reason. He had two jobs lined up for next week, though neither would take more than a day or two. After that, maybe he could call Will, invite himself over with some plans for Will’s master bathroom. It could definitely use some renovation…

Wait a minute. What was he thinking? Jack never solicited business. He let it come to him. If Will wanted more work done, he had Jack’s number. He wasn’t about to foist himself on the guy just because they’d maybe spoken a little too freely after a little too much to drink.

If Will wanted to see him again, Will could call. Will, after all, had been the one to send him away. Let him call him back—if that’s what he wanted. And if he didn’t, well, that was that. Jack had been doing fine on his own these past two years. There was no reason to suppose he couldn’t go on just as he had been for the next twenty.

Jack went about his business, making himself breakfast, eating it in front of the TV as he watched the Friday morning news, washing the few dishes and putting them in the rack to dry. He had a small job that afternoon—some finishing touches on a sunroom he’d built on a house not far from Will’s. Then the weekend loomed.

As he poured himself a second cup of coffee an uninvited thought slipped into his head. What if you wait for him to call, but he doesn’t? Will you let this second chance slip away like you did the first?

He had no answer.

About The Author

I’ve been writing for nearly two decades, and have published over 60 novels. I write BDSM romance and non-con abduction tales, spanning both m/f and m/m genres. My love affair is with all things D/s (Dominance/submission). My work began as a romantic exploration of the BDSM life style, and then veered somewhat to the darker side of fantasy. I love delving into the dark psyche of a twisted mind, and gaining insight into what might motivate such a person to do what they do. I don’t create all black and white villains and heroes, but rather strive to develop real, complex and flawed human beings. I don’t want to simply provide an erotic thrill or evocative description. I seek not only to tell a story, but to come to grips with, and ultimately exalt in the true beauty and spirituality of a loving exchange of power. My darker works press the envelope of what is erotic and what can be a sometimes dangerous slide into the world of sadomasochism. Ultimately my work deals with the human condition, and our constant search for love and intensity of experience.

 

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Stonehill Romance series by Marci Boudreaux

Series – The Stonehill Romance Series
By – Marci Boudreaux
Genre – Contemporary Romance
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The Forgotten Path, Book 3

No one has ever accused Annie O’Connell of backing down from a challenge. She’s tough as nails and that’s what everyone has come to expect from her. But even the strongest of people need someone sometime.

Marcus Callison has loved Annie for as long as he’s been working at O’Connell Realty. He would stand by her through thick, thin, and everything in between. If only she’d let him.

When tragedy strikes and Annie is left feeling vulnerable, Marcus does everything in his power to make all right in her world again. He just hopes it’s enough to convince her that he is worthy of breaking through the walls she has built around her heart.

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Friends Without Benefits, Book 2

 

Dianna Friedman never expected her husband to leave her. Who does? But she’s making the most of what she has left–a sarcastic near-grown son and a mountain of bills that just keeps growing. She’s in over her head, but she is determined to survive.

Even if everyone else saw it coming, Paul O’Connell was blindsided by his wife’s affair and attempt to bleed him dry. He reaches out to Dianna–the woman who caught their spouses cheating–in hopes that her testimony at his divorce hearing will prevent him from paying alimony.

Dianna and Paul become fast friends and maybe a tad bit over-dependent on each other, but who are they hurting? No one. At least not until Dianna’s life takes yet another unexpected twist, and she and Paul have to step back and reevaluate everything… including what they mean to each other.

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The Road Leads Back, Book 1

Kara Martinson and Harry Canton weren’t exactly high school sweethearts, but they did share one night neither will ever forget. Twenty-seven years later, Harry surprises Kara at an art gallery opening and discovers he left her with more than just memories when he went away to college. Desperate to connect with the family he never knew existed, Harry convinces his son to move to Stonehill—and pleads with Kara to come, too.

Kara hasn’t stepped foot in their hometown since the day she was sent away to a home for unwed mothers. Now Harry’s back in her life and as they put together the pieces of his parents’ betrayal, old heartaches start to feel anew. She wants to be near her family, but returning to Iowa means facing some things…and some people…she isn’t quite ready to.

Can Harry convince her to forgive those who betrayed her so they can embrace the future they were robbed of so long ago? Or will the pain of the past be too much for Kara to overcome?

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About The Author

 

As a teen, Marci Boudreaux skipped over young adult books and jumped right into the world of romance novels. She’s never left. Marci lives with her husband, two kiddos, and their numerous pets. She is a freelance writer appearing monthly in a variety of local magazines as well as a content editor.

Romance is her preferred reading and writing genre because nothing feels better than falling in love with someone new and her husband doesn’t like when she does that in real life.

 

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