The Manse series focuses on the lives of men who play at Manse, a private club in rural Pennsylvania, catering to gay men. Billionaire David Davenport runs the club as he sees fit, and he’s used to getting his way. So when he decides he wants to fill the place with gorgeous men in masks for a night, that’s exactly what happens.
*Note from Author*
Learning from the Master takes place 5 years before Bound by Lies (and tells the story of how Jenner from Bound by Lies meets David & Shea). Loving the Master takes place 10 years before Bound by Lies & 5 years before Learning from the Master.
They were written in reverse order (and the prequels weren't planned), so after Bound by Lies (written 1st, #3 in the series in chronological order) I wrote Learning from the Master (written 2nd, #2 in the series in chronological order). Loving the Master (written 3rd & #1 in the series in chronological order) is meant to be enjoyable whether you've read the other 2 stories in the series or not. You can actually read them in whatever order appeals to you the most :)
Summary:
Billionaire Dominant David Davenport needs a break from the loveless isolation imposed by wealth, responsibility, and the stress of running the Manse, his private gay club. While at lunch with an old friend, David finds himself enchanted by the charming and submissive nature of Shea Whittier, their young waiter. David offers to help the young man out with his personal troubles, never suspecting the danger he’s putting them both in.
Summary:
Most things in life come easily to eighteen-year-old Jenner Parrish, who’s on track to inherit the family business, and is popular, well-liked and good looking. He has everything he could want, except when it comes to love, and sex. Closeted, lonely and desperate, he acquires an invitation to an event at a nearby private gay club, Manse. Feeling out of his element and for the first time quite shy, Jenner is unable to play the wallflower when he captures the attention of the suave, seductive owner of Manse, David Davenport. David is used to getting what he wants, and what he wants is gorgeous young Jenner, who begins to realize every fantasy and wild desire could be his for the taking, if only he dares to ask and obediently serve. (M/M/M - For content labels and excerpt, see details on publisher's site.)
Note from the author: M/M BDSM Romance novella. It’s part of the Society of Masters and a prequel to Bound by Lies, though it can be read as a standalone story! It also introduces the characters David and Shea from my next novel release, Loving the Master, also coming very soon!
Summary:
Brayden Clare never wanted to return to small town life. Blond, athletic, and struggling with his sexual identity, a casual relationship on the beach in Florida suits him much better. When a family emergency calls him home, he is forced to trade his personal freedom for a job as a bartender in a town where everybody thinks they know who he is, and nobody has a clue—including Brayden.
Jenner Parrish is the owner and operator of Parrish Pub, the social hub of Robertsville, Pennsylvania. Jenner is charming, dominant, and popular since they were both in high school together. Brayden finds his new boss intimidating, and is daunted to find that turns him on. Jenner finds his new recruit intriguing but mustn’t dare to ask an employee to submit to him.
The two men find what they’re seeking at a masked BDSM ball in the next town over, and are startled to discover their desires rest much, much closer to home.
Loving the Master #1
Crouching beside Shea, David demanded, “Who did this to you?”
Shea’s face was swollen with a black eye, marbled in terrible colors ranging from yellow to crimson-black. His jaw was ringed on one side with a deep abrasion crusted with blood and dirt. He was holding his left arm against his body protectively enough that David had to assume it was also injured. Some of the light in his eyes had even been extinguished, replaced with a cringing look David had often seen in people who had been viciously mistreated.
At first, Shea just stared at him in utter confusion, looking lost. Inside Teresa’s, people seated by the glass windows were gawking at them and the minor scene David was making, not that he cared one bit. Pedestrians on the sidewalks and in the parking area had also paused to observe. But none of this seemed to touch Shea’s notice. He had eyes only for David and didn’t once divert his attention. David breathed in the subtle submission and crowded further into Shea’s space as if he had been invited.
“Oh my god, the hotter Stark and Brother Voodoo,” Shea said, sounding incredibly bewildered. David hoped he hadn’t suffered a concussion. “You’re David. You left me that crazy tip the other day. This is so weird. Why are you here?”
“Who did this?” David quietly but firmly insisted.
“I-I don’t know. I was mugged on my way home from here. It was actually the same day I met you. Never saw who did it. They took my stuff and beat me up, but when I got home, I…” Shea shook his head and seemed to draw further in on himself. “Never mind. I’m sorry if I’m upsetting you, sir. I’ll go sit somewhere else if I’m disturbing your meal.”
It was the way Shea sounded that was the final straw. There was much more going on here than a mugging, and if David was reading Shea correctly, the beating had damaged more than just skin. He looked like a broken doll, tumbled from his beloved’s grasp, left to rot in the gutters, forgotten.
Anger like David hadn’t felt in a long time suffused him. It didn’t get the better of him, but only intensified his focus and need to gain control of the situation. All he could see were those wounds, the absence of any bandages, and the fact that Shea was at work, not at a hospital or, at the very least, at home resting. And not only was he not actively working, he was sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, like they’d…
“Did they kick you out?” David jabbed a finger at the restaurant.
Shea bowed his head, bracing his forehead against a hand and trying to hide his injuries. “The manager told me to go clean myself up, and I thought they’d let me use the sink in the restroom here, but he doesn’t want me upsetting the customers, and I can’t go home. I don’t… I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Then, David did smile, with a murderous sort of wrath hidden in the hard sparkle of his eyes, as well as the glint of his teeth. He stood and Elet was right there, eyeing him and waiting patiently, knowing David well enough to back off respectfully.
“Okay, this is completely unacceptable.”
“What?” Shea laughed a little, and it sounded hollow, thin, exhausted. “I don’t know what to—”
“Come. Everything will be taken care of.” David extended a hand to Shea. Warily, Shea took it and let David pull him up, wincing with pain as he did, hinting at other bruising, other wounds.
“Come where?”
Learning from the Master #2
Reclaiming his hand, Jenner felt the skin almost tingling where David had touched it, like he had the ability to set the molecules in your skin vibrating and knocking around with excitement.
Jenner’s mind went blank. His tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth and he glanced down with embarrassment at his own less impressive shirt and slacks. If the other guys on his team could have seen him then, they would have laughed their asses off. He’d never felt so out of his element, but he knew he needed to catch up, fast.
“Back to my original question,” David said, his voice low, his tone making it feel like this was a private conversation, just between them. Somehow, he was paying even closer attention to Jenner, and the rest of the room, the rest of the entire mansion, faded back. All that mattered was keeping David’s attention, and doing anything that might impress him. If Jenner could impress David, he’d have it made. “What I’d meant to say was… what in particular brings you here tonight, Mr. Parrish? I make sure to know who my guests are. It’s only polite, don’t you think? But, with someone as… intriguing and attractive as you, I knew I had to come and introduce myself. I know more than your name, you know. I already know exactly what I want from you. What I don’t know is what it is you’re looking for. The reason you’ve sought us out.”
There were discreetly dressed security guys flanking both entrances to the room, keeping an eye on them and everyone else nearby. Jenner didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed them earlier. They must have arrived with David because they hadn’t been there before. The pressure mounted even higher, the thrill of what was happening even bigger but Jenner kept tripping over his attempts to reply, stammering, “I, uh… um…”
He couldn’t tell the truth, which was that he was hard up. It was too pathetic.
“Are you looking to meet someone?” David guessed. His voice was hushed but, other than the guards, no one else nearby was paying them much attention. “Looking for a boyfriend, maybe? Or just a blowjob? Something… dirtier?”
Jenner’s blood pressure shot through the roof, his heart pounding, his skin too tight. Suddenly overheated, he felt constricted by his clothes and too aware of each and every part of his body. It was like being thrown into a game where all of the rules had changed on him and he just had to scramble to figure things out play by play, move by move.
“I’m not sure. I don’t… Not a boyfriend, no. Just… company.”
More people were gathering in the room. Drawn to David, maybe? They kept their distance, but some of them began glancing their way. David raised his eyebrows at Jenner’s answer. “Conversation then? A game of pool or cards?”
“No,” Jenner laughed breathlessly, his skin too hot, his body too big and cumbersome. “Not exactly.”
“Then what exactly? Please. Tell me. It’s all right.” His lip caught between his teeth again, and Jenner stared at that, breathing a little harder. “I mean, I can’t help you get it if I don’t know what it is you’re after, can I?”
Bound By Lies #3
Gripping the bar’s edge, leaning forward against it, a switch gets flipped in Jenner. He goes into predatory mode as his target, his prey, comes steadily closer, their eyes locked. Everything in Jenner screams at him to take, to plunder, to fuck, and it does so with such force that he gets lightheaded with the strength of the need.
But as Brayden approaches, something strange happens to his expression. Briefly, upon seeing Jenner, heartache so profound and poignant crosses Brayden’s face, it makes Jenner feel like he must have just murdered Brayden’s dog or something. He can’t remember the last time he saw someone so distraught. It also makes Brayden look more like the boy he was in high school—forever grieving, tucked away in corners, trying to disappear.
Does he remember me? Did I do something to hurt him back then? Jenner frantically scans years of foggy memories, but can think of nothing specific linking him to Brayden.
With a sense of vertigo, Jenner witnesses Brayden replace the heartache with hope. The boy becomes the man. Sadness lingers behind green eyes, but it’s infused with wisdom and resolve.
It takes Jenner’s breath away.
“Hey, I know you,” Brayden says with a grin that changes his face even more, softening the rougher edges. Captivated by the beauty of that brave smile, Jenner is more drawn in by the stubborn remnant of pain. “Varsity football, right? You were quarterback, I think.”
Of all of the things to say in greeting, that it’s high school Brayden mentions first makes Jenner smile. It’s part reflex, part relief that he’s not the only one still thinking on those terms. “Oh wow. Yeah, I guess I was. That was decades ago. Or it seems like it anyway.”
Jenner can’t stop staring at the rich caramel hue of Brayden’s skin against the crisp, stark white of his button-down shirt, tucked neatly into dark jeans, adorned with a black leather belt. He tries to draw his gaze away from the exposed areas of skin at his guest’s neck and along his bared forearms where the shirt has been rolled up to the elbow. Jenner’s mouth waters at the idea of sealing his lips around the warm flesh, feeling the pulse beating under the skin.
Clearing his throat, Brayden raises and traps Jenner’s gaze. The sweetness of his green eyes draws Jenner in and holds him. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“Parrish,” Jenner blurts, offering a hand from over the bar. “Jenner Parrish. And you’re?”
Cry Baby Braydy.
Stop it.
The secretly-treasured mental image of Brayden in the locker room at the Y—and his bare ass—fills Jenner’s mind, uncalled for, sending a bolt of heat directly to Jenner’s cock. He forces it away. Hard.
“Brayden Clare. I was a year or two behind you in school. You probably have no idea who I am,” Brayden says, giving Jenner’s hand a firm shake.
Oh, you’d be surprised, Jenner’s inner voice provides. He tells himself, Keep playing dumb. Don’t lump yourself in with the assholes you’ve always hung out with. The best way to ruin your chances is to become the bad guy.
But it’s probably useless, you know. He remembers you. He knows you were on the football team. Those were the guys who gave him that nickname. Those were the guys doing most of the laughing.
You’re already the bad guy.
He resists, with effort, the urge to stroke the soft skin of the back of Brayden’s hand with his thumb before releasing him.
Crouching beside Shea, David demanded, “Who did this to you?”
Shea’s face was swollen with a black eye, marbled in terrible colors ranging from yellow to crimson-black. His jaw was ringed on one side with a deep abrasion crusted with blood and dirt. He was holding his left arm against his body protectively enough that David had to assume it was also injured. Some of the light in his eyes had even been extinguished, replaced with a cringing look David had often seen in people who had been viciously mistreated.
At first, Shea just stared at him in utter confusion, looking lost. Inside Teresa’s, people seated by the glass windows were gawking at them and the minor scene David was making, not that he cared one bit. Pedestrians on the sidewalks and in the parking area had also paused to observe. But none of this seemed to touch Shea’s notice. He had eyes only for David and didn’t once divert his attention. David breathed in the subtle submission and crowded further into Shea’s space as if he had been invited.
“Oh my god, the hotter Stark and Brother Voodoo,” Shea said, sounding incredibly bewildered. David hoped he hadn’t suffered a concussion. “You’re David. You left me that crazy tip the other day. This is so weird. Why are you here?”
“Who did this?” David quietly but firmly insisted.
“I-I don’t know. I was mugged on my way home from here. It was actually the same day I met you. Never saw who did it. They took my stuff and beat me up, but when I got home, I…” Shea shook his head and seemed to draw further in on himself. “Never mind. I’m sorry if I’m upsetting you, sir. I’ll go sit somewhere else if I’m disturbing your meal.”
It was the way Shea sounded that was the final straw. There was much more going on here than a mugging, and if David was reading Shea correctly, the beating had damaged more than just skin. He looked like a broken doll, tumbled from his beloved’s grasp, left to rot in the gutters, forgotten.
Anger like David hadn’t felt in a long time suffused him. It didn’t get the better of him, but only intensified his focus and need to gain control of the situation. All he could see were those wounds, the absence of any bandages, and the fact that Shea was at work, not at a hospital or, at the very least, at home resting. And not only was he not actively working, he was sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, like they’d…
“Did they kick you out?” David jabbed a finger at the restaurant.
Shea bowed his head, bracing his forehead against a hand and trying to hide his injuries. “The manager told me to go clean myself up, and I thought they’d let me use the sink in the restroom here, but he doesn’t want me upsetting the customers, and I can’t go home. I don’t… I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Then, David did smile, with a murderous sort of wrath hidden in the hard sparkle of his eyes, as well as the glint of his teeth. He stood and Elet was right there, eyeing him and waiting patiently, knowing David well enough to back off respectfully.
“Okay, this is completely unacceptable.”
“What?” Shea laughed a little, and it sounded hollow, thin, exhausted. “I don’t know what to—”
“Come. Everything will be taken care of.” David extended a hand to Shea. Warily, Shea took it and let David pull him up, wincing with pain as he did, hinting at other bruising, other wounds.
“Come where?”
Learning from the Master #2
Reclaiming his hand, Jenner felt the skin almost tingling where David had touched it, like he had the ability to set the molecules in your skin vibrating and knocking around with excitement.
Jenner’s mind went blank. His tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth and he glanced down with embarrassment at his own less impressive shirt and slacks. If the other guys on his team could have seen him then, they would have laughed their asses off. He’d never felt so out of his element, but he knew he needed to catch up, fast.
“Back to my original question,” David said, his voice low, his tone making it feel like this was a private conversation, just between them. Somehow, he was paying even closer attention to Jenner, and the rest of the room, the rest of the entire mansion, faded back. All that mattered was keeping David’s attention, and doing anything that might impress him. If Jenner could impress David, he’d have it made. “What I’d meant to say was… what in particular brings you here tonight, Mr. Parrish? I make sure to know who my guests are. It’s only polite, don’t you think? But, with someone as… intriguing and attractive as you, I knew I had to come and introduce myself. I know more than your name, you know. I already know exactly what I want from you. What I don’t know is what it is you’re looking for. The reason you’ve sought us out.”
There were discreetly dressed security guys flanking both entrances to the room, keeping an eye on them and everyone else nearby. Jenner didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed them earlier. They must have arrived with David because they hadn’t been there before. The pressure mounted even higher, the thrill of what was happening even bigger but Jenner kept tripping over his attempts to reply, stammering, “I, uh… um…”
He couldn’t tell the truth, which was that he was hard up. It was too pathetic.
“Are you looking to meet someone?” David guessed. His voice was hushed but, other than the guards, no one else nearby was paying them much attention. “Looking for a boyfriend, maybe? Or just a blowjob? Something… dirtier?”
Jenner’s blood pressure shot through the roof, his heart pounding, his skin too tight. Suddenly overheated, he felt constricted by his clothes and too aware of each and every part of his body. It was like being thrown into a game where all of the rules had changed on him and he just had to scramble to figure things out play by play, move by move.
“I’m not sure. I don’t… Not a boyfriend, no. Just… company.”
More people were gathering in the room. Drawn to David, maybe? They kept their distance, but some of them began glancing their way. David raised his eyebrows at Jenner’s answer. “Conversation then? A game of pool or cards?”
“No,” Jenner laughed breathlessly, his skin too hot, his body too big and cumbersome. “Not exactly.”
“Then what exactly? Please. Tell me. It’s all right.” His lip caught between his teeth again, and Jenner stared at that, breathing a little harder. “I mean, I can’t help you get it if I don’t know what it is you’re after, can I?”
Bound By Lies #3
Gripping the bar’s edge, leaning forward against it, a switch gets flipped in Jenner. He goes into predatory mode as his target, his prey, comes steadily closer, their eyes locked. Everything in Jenner screams at him to take, to plunder, to fuck, and it does so with such force that he gets lightheaded with the strength of the need.
But as Brayden approaches, something strange happens to his expression. Briefly, upon seeing Jenner, heartache so profound and poignant crosses Brayden’s face, it makes Jenner feel like he must have just murdered Brayden’s dog or something. He can’t remember the last time he saw someone so distraught. It also makes Brayden look more like the boy he was in high school—forever grieving, tucked away in corners, trying to disappear.
Does he remember me? Did I do something to hurt him back then? Jenner frantically scans years of foggy memories, but can think of nothing specific linking him to Brayden.
With a sense of vertigo, Jenner witnesses Brayden replace the heartache with hope. The boy becomes the man. Sadness lingers behind green eyes, but it’s infused with wisdom and resolve.
It takes Jenner’s breath away.
“Hey, I know you,” Brayden says with a grin that changes his face even more, softening the rougher edges. Captivated by the beauty of that brave smile, Jenner is more drawn in by the stubborn remnant of pain. “Varsity football, right? You were quarterback, I think.”
Of all of the things to say in greeting, that it’s high school Brayden mentions first makes Jenner smile. It’s part reflex, part relief that he’s not the only one still thinking on those terms. “Oh wow. Yeah, I guess I was. That was decades ago. Or it seems like it anyway.”
Jenner can’t stop staring at the rich caramel hue of Brayden’s skin against the crisp, stark white of his button-down shirt, tucked neatly into dark jeans, adorned with a black leather belt. He tries to draw his gaze away from the exposed areas of skin at his guest’s neck and along his bared forearms where the shirt has been rolled up to the elbow. Jenner’s mouth waters at the idea of sealing his lips around the warm flesh, feeling the pulse beating under the skin.
Clearing his throat, Brayden raises and traps Jenner’s gaze. The sweetness of his green eyes draws Jenner in and holds him. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“Parrish,” Jenner blurts, offering a hand from over the bar. “Jenner Parrish. And you’re?”
Cry Baby Braydy.
Stop it.
The secretly-treasured mental image of Brayden in the locker room at the Y—and his bare ass—fills Jenner’s mind, uncalled for, sending a bolt of heat directly to Jenner’s cock. He forces it away. Hard.
“Brayden Clare. I was a year or two behind you in school. You probably have no idea who I am,” Brayden says, giving Jenner’s hand a firm shake.
Oh, you’d be surprised, Jenner’s inner voice provides. He tells himself, Keep playing dumb. Don’t lump yourself in with the assholes you’ve always hung out with. The best way to ruin your chances is to become the bad guy.
But it’s probably useless, you know. He remembers you. He knows you were on the football team. Those were the guys who gave him that nickname. Those were the guys doing most of the laughing.
You’re already the bad guy.
He resists, with effort, the urge to stroke the soft skin of the back of Brayden’s hand with his thumb before releasing him.
Lynn Kelling began writing in order to tell stories that aren’t afraid of the dark, don’t hold anything back and always strive to be memorable, forging lasting attachments between character and reader. Her inspiration comes from taking a closer look at behaviors and ideas lurking at the fringes of life—basically anything that people may hesitate to speak of in mixed company, but everyone wonders about anyway. Her work is driven by the taboo in order to expose the humanity within it. Lynn is an artist, designer and lover of any form of creative self-expression that comes from a place of honesty and emotion, whether it's body art or opera. She has had multiple novels published, has written over fifty works of erotic fiction of varying lengths, and always has several novels in progress.
TUMBLR / SMASHWORDS / AMAZON
EMAIL: lynn@lynnkelling.com
Loving the Master #1
KOBO / iTUNES / FANTASTIC FICTION / ARe
Learning from the Master #2
KOBO / iTUNES / FANTASTIC FICTION / ARe
Bound by Lies #3
KOBO / iTUNES / FANTASTIC FICTION / ARe
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