Padme's Library: 03/20/16

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Sunday's Safe Word Shelf: Three by RJ Scott

Summary:
This story was previously available through DSP as a short story in 2010. The story has been significantly re-worked and extended.

Is this just hot sex, or can two become three?

Mark is finding his way in life after six years in the army. He's always wanted to write scripts for TV, and for one show in particular, Tomorrow's Game.

Half in lust already with the lead actor Zach, he is shocked when he ends up in Zach's bed and finds out that Zach's co-star Rob is part of the package.

Usually short stories get an automatic 1/2 bookmark knocked off simply because I prefer full length novels but when I read Three, that little "rule" went out the window. Some might call Three a little piece of fluff full of fun, that may or may not be true for some but for me, it was a quick, fun read chock full of hope, passion, and promises of love that can happen when you were least expecting it. Though Mark is only looking for a new start and the next leg of his journey, what he finds is Zach and Rob and he just might find a piece of his heart filled along the way. It takes real talent to pack so much story and emotion into so few pages of fun and that is exactly what RJ Scott has done in Three.

RATING:

Several beers later and the conversation was flowing nicely. There was no shortage of things to talk about: Zach, an actor, Mark, a wannabe screenwriter, Rob, mostly just offering incoherent grunting as he dozed on Zach’s shoulder.

When the offer came to continue the smooth, comfortable conversation back at Zach’s house, where Rob had a room, it was a natural progression of their evening. Zach was such an easy person to talk to, and Mark’s gaydar was in confusion mode. As they talked about all kinds of things, from the show to Hollywood, to Mark’s time in the Army, there had been some flirting, Mark was sure of it, but he couldn’t understand why. Zach was the poster boy for heterosexual alpha male, but he was inserting suggestive remarks into everything they talked about and didn’t bat an eyelid when Mark talked about staying the closet in the Army.

Anyway, if this was Zach flirting, why would he be flirting with Mark?

Mark had never rated his looks; he kept himself fit, his hair was short, and he had a naturally muscled body from years of physical exercise, but he was surely not in the league of Zach Cassidy, be he gay or otherwise.

It wasn’t as if Mark had heard anything about the twenty-six-year-old actor being interested in anyone other than the guest star actresses he was seen out with. Rumor had it he was dating one of the girls who had appeared in a few episodes in season one, a short redhead with a thing for murder.

The thing was, it seemed like maybe, in Zach’s eyes, Mark was a little bit better than ordinary, as Zach pushed him up against the wall inside the front door.

Zach was close; his lips close from Mark’s. “Tell me I’m not wrong. Tell me I can kiss you?”

So much for not being gay.

Mark didn’t even answer. He reached up and twisted his fingers, as best he could, into Zach’s short hair, pulling him toward him, mumbling “Not wrong” as he opened his mouth under Zach’s.

It was overwhelmingly hot, tongues searching out the taste of beer, kisses so deep and hard they curled Mark’s toes and left him short of breath. Zach pulled back to grab Mark’s hands, pushing them above his head and holding them in place, just holding him there for a long while, leaning into him, hard and heavy and needy up against him. Before Zach began tracing a path of open-mouthed kisses from temple to ear, stopping to caress the shell of Mark’s ear with the tip of his tongue, it seemed to Mark that breathing was almost impossible.

Whining deep in his throat, he moved restlessly under the onslaught, impossibly hard and desperate for friction, grinding up against Zach to relieve the pressure. Finally, Zach moved his lips lower, focusing all his attention on the fluttering pulse point in Mark’s neck as Mark just gave in and leaned his head back against the wall, helpless against Zach’s exploring mouth. He wanted to say something, anything, but couldn’t.

It didn’t enter his head to think where Rob had gone until another mouth touched his lips even as Zach was marking the skin pulled taut at his neck. He opened his eyes to find liquid-chocolate-colored eyes inches from his. He must have looked startled; Rob blinked once, twisting his fingers into Mark’s hair and pulling his head further back to give Zach free rein on his neck, taking Mark’s lips in a heated kiss then trailing fiery touches over Mark’s high cheekbones to his ear. “Zach wants you… I want to watch,” Rob said in his sleep-deprived growly voice.

Author Bio:
RJ Scott has been writing since age six when she was made to stay in at lunchtime for an infraction involving cookies and was told to write a story. Two sides of A4 about a trapped princess later, a lover of writing was born. She reads anything from thrillers to sci-fi to horror; however, her first real love will always be the world of romance. From billionaires, bodyguards and cowboys to SEALs, throwaways and veterinarians, she writes passionate stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and more than a hint of happily ever after.

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Mike and the Spring Awakening by Bonnie Dee & Summer Devon

Summary:
Young Micah “Mike” Cordett’s privileged life explodes when he is caught naked with a schoolmate. Running away from disgrace, he blunders into a trap in a seamy part of London and endures months of abuse before escaping. But with the help of the Andrews family, he’s begun to climb out of his fear. Yet, when a reminder of his happier past erupts into his life in the form of Lucas Spring, Mike’s not certain he’s ready to face the remnants of the charmed life he’d once enjoyed. He’s certainly not ready for love.

Lucas Spring pined for Mike from afar when they were in school. This shadow of the confident boy he once knew shocks him, and Lucas vows to do anything he can to help restore the person he’d so admired. With patience and determination, he hopes to ease Mike’s fears and perhaps even win his love.

But when a violent figure from Mike’s past looms into his present, will the tender shoots of a new beginning be crushed?

WARNING: Contains themes of sexual abuse that may trigger some readers.

I knew when we were introduced to Mike in Will and the Valentine Saint that his story was going to hold secrets that could break your heart. When Lucas Spring comes looking for his school year crush and finds a man who has not had an easy journey, their lives converge and a new path is formed. Watching them travel this new path gives the reader hope even when they appear at odds with each other. Another great read by the writing duo of Devon & Dee, the Victorian Holiday Hearts series may not be as explosive as some of their work simply because they fall on the shorter side of the length spectrum but they don't fall short on the plotline punch scale.

RATING:

They settled on the tarp to paint the set pieces. Back to back because the damned daffodils were so big, Lucas couldn’t sit next to Mike. Lucas dipped the brush into yellow paint and finished a petal. He already had paint on his hands. His valet, who disliked doing anything more than brushing his suits, would be a wreck at the sight of so much dirt as it was. Lucas was covered with dust and cobwebs. Paint would kill his man.

Lucas wiped his hands on the plain wood of a flower leaf and rose to his feet. Mike, still crouched, looked up at him, and the sudden flash of fear in his eyes made Lucas back away. “I’m just taking off my jacket,” he explained. “And my waistcoat too, I think.”

Mike put down his brush and stood. “A good notion.” He went to Lucas. “Allow me to help you? My fingers are still clean.” He eased Lucas’s jacket from his shoulders and then moved to his front to unbutton his waistcoat.

Lucas tried not to notice how close they were to each other or the way Mike’s chest quickly rose and fell as he worked the buttons. He was used to his valet performing these tasks, Lucas reminded himself.
“Mike.” He whispered the word.

“Hmm.” Mike’s fingers trembled. He slid the waistcoat off too, his fingers grazing Lucas’s arm, and Lucas swore he could feel that touch, even through the linen of his shirt.

He would try for a jovial tone, something light, though his heart pounded and his breath skittered. “You’re very good at this.”

“I help the actors dress and undress. During performances,” Mike said. His voice sounded husky. He deposited the coat and waistcoat on a tree stump next to the gate out to the stage entrance.

He returned to his flower again, without a word, dropping to a crouch and picking up his paintbrush.

“Does it bother you? To undress the actors?” Lucas said.

Mike seemed to watch his hands do the methodical dip and stroke, dip and stroke, as if it were someone else controlling the movements. “Usually, no. I don’t mind doing the work at all. But you’re different. When I’m near you, I feel a touch of fear.”

Lucas’s stomach turned over. He wished he’d taken off his own damned jacket.

“But there’s also something else.”

“Never mind the fear. That second bit of something else sounds good,” Lucas began, but he stopped. Mike’s shoulders were shaking. Damnation. “Mike?”

“It was gone, taken away from me, and now it’s coming back.” A tear dripped down his nose. Lucas wanted nothing more than to go to him and pull him close, but he knew better.

“Heavens, I do hope the ‘it’ you speak of means attraction,” Lucas drawled. “Forgive me if I’m presumptuous.”

Mike sniffed and wiped his nose on his shirt sleeve like a young boy. He twisted and looked at Lucas. His eyes were damp, but his mouth was twisted into a wry grin. “You’re doing it once more, forcing me to feel amused when I’m miserable.”

“That’s good, yes?”

“I hope so. God, I hope I’m wrong. I don’t want to hate physical contact, Lucas, but I’m afraid I will for years.”

Lucas’s vision went hazy and red as anger filled him. He wanted to kill whoever had done this to Mike. At the very least, he wanted to howl with rage. But Mike had said the Andrews’s chatter soothed him, and the stiff upper lip was their heritage. Lucas would give him both and hope it helped. He picked up the yellow brush and got back to work.

“Talk is all very well, but there is only one way to find out, you know, and that’s to try touching a person you might possibly find appealing. That person should know he must not respond badly—or perhaps not respond at all. That’s entirely your choice.” He spoke briskly. “And if anything about your own touch or his presence alarms you, then you stop. And try again whenever you choose.”

Lucas put down the yellow brush and picked up the red to fill in the center of the cheerful flower. A daisy, perhaps. “It should not be a great surprise to know that once again I volunteer myself to you. Outside or inside, in private, clothed, naked, I’ll do whatever you wish, whenever you wish it. Send word at two in the morning, and I’ll drag myself to the spot immediately.”

Author Bios:

Bonnie Dee
I began telling stories as a child. Whenever there was a sleepover, I was the designated ghost tale teller. I still have a story printed on yellow legal paper in second grade about a ghost, a witch and a talking cat.

Writing childish stories for my own pleasure led to majoring in English at college. Like most English majors, I dreamed of writing a novel, but at that time in my life didn't have the necessary focus and follow through. Then life happened. A husband and children occupied the next twenty years and it was only in 2000 that I began writing again.

I enjoy dabbling in many genres. Each gives me a different way to express myself. I've developed a habit of writing every day that's almost an addiction. I don't think I could stop now if I tried.

Summer Devon
Summer Devon is the pen name writer Kate Rothwell often uses. Whether the characters are male or female, human or dragon, her books are always romance.

You can visit her facebook page, where there's a sign up form for a newsletter (she'll only send out newsletters when there's a new Summer Devon or Kate Rothwell release and she will never ever sell your name to anyone).