Tuesday, November 17, 2020

National Family Caregiver Month 2020 Part 3



πŸ’–πŸ’™πŸ’šπŸ’›πŸ’œπŸ’—πŸ’œπŸ’›πŸ’šπŸ’™πŸ’–

As my mother's 24/7 caregiver, November being National Family Caregiver Month has always been important to me.  Not because I want personal recognition for what I do but to help show people that caregiving is more than just medical assistance, that it effects every aspects of a person's life.  I would give anything to make it so my mother did not need the assistance but that isn't possible so I do this so she can have the best quality of life and still live in her own home.  So I realized that there are stories out there that have caregivers and whether it's a big or small part of the plot doesn't matter, they help show people what caregivers provide all within very entertaining romances and reading experiences. 

πŸ’–πŸ’™πŸ’šπŸ’›πŸ’œπŸ’—πŸ’œπŸ’›πŸ’šπŸ’™πŸ’–

Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 4


Sugar and Ice by RJ Scott & VL Locey

Summary:
Arizona Raptors #3
Is it easier to fall into the shadows than hold onto the light?

Injured in a horrific car accident by a man who made him feel like nothing, Henry was left with life threatening injuries, crippling self doubt, and his career as a hockey player destroyed. He’s struggling to see, and as much as people tell him to have hope because he’s young and fit, his vision is compromised and he’s spiraling into despair. Estranged from his family, and his money all gone, there seems to be no hope. Hockey gave him freedom, and now it’s all been taken away.

Adler insists on letting Henry stay in a vast Lockhart-owned mansion in Tuscon, but it's a big and lonely place. When Apollo arrives at the house with his sunny smile and infectious optimism, along with his no-nonsense rules, he slowly becomes an integral part of Henry’s life. But one day, when Henry is better, Apollo will leave, and what happens then? Has Henry really fallen for the dark eyed man, or is it all just smoke and mirrors?

If there is one thing that Apollo Vasquez knows all about it’s helping others and living with quirky athletes. After all, he’s spent most of his adult life tending to one of the richest hockey playing heirs in America. His days have been filled with friendship, laughter, and the knowledge that he’s needed. Or he used to be. Over the past year Apollo’s best friend, Adler Lockhart, has been slipping away, his time spent with his boyfriend, on the ice, or traveling the world with the man he loves. This leaves Apollo feeling like a clunky third wheel or all alone in a luxurious apartment with no one to fuss over.

Knowing that his life is at a crossroads, his loving nature leads him far away from his childhood friend to the dry desert town of Tucson where he signs on to care for Henry Greenaway as the young Raptor recovers both mentally and physically from a near fatal car crash. Henry is also facing a new life, one that might lead him from the sport he has loved for so long. Cooking, cleaning, and providing moral support is just what the doctor ordered for Apollo, and he soon finds himself not only rediscovering himself and a new life he adores, but falling for the sweet, lost, injured man who’s slowly capturing his heart one timid smile at a time.

Original Review March Book of the Month 2020:
It seems like forever that I've been waiting for Henry's story but I was patient and I knew that when he was ready to tell RJ Scott & VL Locey his journey it would be amazing.  HOLY HANNAH BATMAN!!!!  I was not disappointed.

Some might see Henry Greenaway as broken and they might see Apollo Vasquez  in a smiliar light because of certain aspects that have brought them to where they are.  I don't want to go into particulars because if you haven't been reading Arizona Raptors then I feel that I'd be spoiling some of the series.  Each entry is a standalone as it's a new  pairing but characters and elements are carried through.  But back to the broken bit, I know that Henry and Apollo probably see themselves as broken but I don't like that term, I don't think anyone is "broken" they are hurting, they have issues that brought them to where they are, but never "broken".    Is this what makes them such a perfect fit?  Maybe.  I think they work because they each bring something to the table that is both different and similar that gives them strength.  Maybe I'm over analyzing it but whatever "it" is, it works and brilliantly too.

I don't often say this in a series where there is different couples but I believe that Henry and Apollo are my favorite Raptors pair yet.  What surprises me most about that isn't that 99% of the time I fall so hard for the first pair none of the following ones quite compare, but because I was looking so eagerly to Henry's story I was a little afraid it wouldn't match up to my anticipation.  I needn't have worried because Scott & Locey told an amazing story that is entertaining and believable with humor, drama(probably the most dramatic so far, some might even say angsty), romance, heat, but most of all it's got heart from beginning to end.

There's never any doubt that Scott & Locey will bring you a HEA tale but the journey getting there is what makes their work so outstanding.  There is no page filler, no extra bits to cause unnecessary drama, nothing that doesn't enhance their tale.  I can honestly say that for the first time in months I only ever wanted to protect these guys.  Generally I war between Mama Bear Hugs and whacking a frying pan to the back of the head, but not with Henry or Apollo.  I want to give Apollo never ending Mama Bear Hugs, to protect him but also to keep him warm and I would say hugs to Henry but he doesn't always like to be touched so I want to wrap him in warm layers of bubblewrap to let him know he's protected.

I feel like I've given away too much already or am about to if I keep going so I'll end by saying again: HOLY HANNAH BATMAN!!!! I was not disappointed.

For those wondering about reading order, I highly recommend reading them in order of release.  Personally, I can't imagine reading the Raptors series without having read Harrisburg Railers and then Owatonna U but I can't say you'd be lost if you start here but I feel everything flows better especially in regard to friendships, character cameos and mentions.  However you read it, Shadow and Light is a journey not to be missed.

RATING:


The Arrangement by Felice Stevens
Summary:
Soulmates #1
Carter Haywood lives for the weekends - specifically the one weekend every month when he escapes real life, with all the pressures of work and caring for his special needs brother, to do whatever he wants, with whomever he wants. Sex is only a release; he's not looking for love, a relationship or even a second night with the same man, until he walks into a bar and finds someone who makes leaving it all behind impossible. After one incredibly passionate encounter, he breaks his rule and goes back. He needs to see this man again. And again.

Damaged goods. That's all Reed Kincaide sees and hears when he looks in the mirror. Anxiety and ADHD define his life and he's learned to keep people at a distance, never letting them get close enough to know who he really is. When Carter proposes a monthly weekend of sex without strings, it's the ideal arrangement for him. Or so he thinks. Every month, leaving Carter proves to be more and more difficult. It's not only the intensely hot sex they have in their hotel suite; Reed wonders about the secret life Carter refuses to share.

As months pass and they grow closer Reed finds himself falling for Carter, but he needs more than hurried hugs and farewell kisses. He wants it all. Letting Reed into his carefully constructed family life could upset Carter's whole world, but it might be the risk he's finally willing to take, if it means keeping Reed. Once bodies are engaged, the heart is sure to follow, and Carter and Reed discover that holding on to each other is the first step in letting go of the past.



Shadow and Light by RJ Scott & VL Locey
One 
Apollo 
Another sigh escaped me. I poked at the casserole with a wooden spoon, muttered under my breath, then placed the spoon on the blue-and-white checkered placemat. Dinner was ruined. Again. For the fourth time this week. Kicking my foot against a stool, I sat hunched at the new kitchen island Adler had installed for me two months ago, pushed the dried-up husk of what had been vegetarian lasagna away, and stared down at my phone. 

“Why does he disrespect me so?” I asked Madonna as she wheeled around with a puma on the screen— although she sweetly called it a tiger, oh my God wasn’t she just the most amazing person to walk the planet?— in a cage in the backseat of a Rolls Royce. Or I thought it was a Rolls. Didn’t matter. Nothing seemed to matter lately. A big gray cloud of sad had been my constant companion ever since… well, ever since months now. I sighed yet again and turned up the volume on my comfort flick. 

When feeling blue, I watched Who’s That Girl. I’d always loved the movie but the past six months had raised my views through the roof. “Is it asking too much for the man to get home in time for dinner?” My foot was swinging so hard my slipper flew off, sailing across the kitchen just in time to hit Adler in the face. “Good. Serves you right. Where have you been?” 

He blinked, bent to pick up my silver slipper, then gave me that off-kilter smile of his. “Uhm, I was with him.” He jerked a thumb at Layton Foxx standing behind him. 

Ah. Yes, of course he had been. He was always with Layton. They were in love. I was alone with a crusty lasagna and Madonna, sounding like some sort of queer fishwife bitching at her husband. Ugh, I hated that queer fishwife so much. Why did she keep popping up?

“Apollo, I told him to text you,” Layton said, easing into the kitchen, checking my feet in case another slipper went airborne. “He said that you’d know we’d be grabbing dinner after our matinee game.” 

I folded my arms over my chest. Adler gently handed me my slipper before dancing back out of swatting range. I really wanted to rage at my best friend but seeing him so happy and so deeply in love, I found that I couldn’t. I could give him dirty looks though, so I did. 

“Apollo, come on, not the Mama looks, please.” The big oaf huddled in on himself, hugging his midsection. 

“I think I’m missing something here,” Layton said, easing around his melodramatic boyfriend to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“My mother has a look that can gut a man twice her size. Apparently, I have it as well,” I explained as Adler coughed, hacked, and fell to his knees to expire theatrically on the freshly mopped kitchen tiles. 

“Ah, okay, yeah, I saw that look when we went to the Lockhart manor in Maine for her birthday.” Layton stepped over Adler lying dead on the floor while cracking his water. “She was mad at you two for making pornographic fruit sculptures.” 

“That was him,” I stated, pointing at the dead Railer on the floor with my bare toes. “I told him she would get mad when my family saw a banana dick with two big grapefruit balls on the table among the party foods, but did he listen?” 

“No,” the corpse said. 

“Hush, you’re dead,” Layton told the dead man on the floor. “Oh yeah, your aunt from Arizona was the only one who thought it was funny.” 

“TΓ­a SofΓ­a is the bomb,” the corpse spoke up again, so I kicked my other silver slipper off and it hit him in the belly, bouncing off his expensive suit jacket to lie on his chest. “Oh sorry, yeah, I’m dead. Ignore me.” 

“We’re trying,” Layton parried, gave me a wink then padded out of the kitchen. On his way to the bedroom, more than likely. Which, again, was fine. I’d grown very fond of Layton over the time he and Adler had been together. He was a calming influence on the man I called my best friend and the world’s largest toddler. 

“Get up,” I said to Adler. “I’m not so mad anymore. Just kind of mad.” My movie was still playing and I hit the rewind a bit to catch what I’d missed. Adler’s big hand settled over my phone, taking it from me and holding it over his head. As I said, world’s biggest toddler. 

“I need you to talk to me.” 

I reached for the phone, he held it even higher. Given he was six-foot-seven or ten or something crazy and I was five-foot-eight on tiptoes, I never won this game. I’d quit trying when we were thirteen and Adler had shot up a foot overnight. I was still the skinny, short boy who preferred doting on kittens and baby dolls instead of shooting hockey pucks down the marble hallways of the Lockhart home in Palm Beach where the family wintered. 

“You’ve been super surly of late and watching way too much Madonna.” 

“Okay, first off there is no such thing as too much Madonna.” I waved a finger under his nose. “Secondly, how would you know if I’m surly or sad or happy when you’re never here anymore?” Adler lowered my phone, his jaw slack, his eyes wide. I bit down on my lower lip. “Sorry, no, forget that. I didn’t mean that. I’m just… this needs to be cleaned up.” 

Eyes averted, I slid from the stool, wiggled my feet into my slippers, and picked up the cold pan of crusty lasagna. Adler slipped between me and the ruined food, blocking me with ease just as he would someone going after a puck. I nibbled on the inside of my cheek, looking left then right, anywhere but up at him. 

“Apollo, what’s going on with you? I thought you were happy for me and Layton.” 

Ack, sweet Jesus and Mary. He knew just what to say to make me feel like homogenized shit. I drew in a deep breath, tipped my head back a bit, and gazed at the redhead who was my brother in every aspect other than sharing the same blood. A brother from another mother. And father. 

“I am happy for you. I am!” I insisted when his eyebrows knitted. “I am really happy for you, honestly. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m not happy with me anymore.” I thumped my chest. “I’m just…” I searched for the right word to fit my mood. “Stagnant. Lonely. Unneeded. Unwanted.” 

“Whoa, just whoa. You are most certainly needed and wanted, please don’t ever think you’re not. Who else would put up with my stupid shit on a daily basis?” 

“Layton,” I whispered as Griffin Dunne and Madonna exchanged witty banter. 

His wide shoulders sunk a bit before he handed me my phone. I glanced down at my cell to pause the movie. 

“I’m sorry you’re lonely, Apollo. We can come over here more. I know we spend a lot of time at Layton’s but he’s kind of more comfortable there, but I can insist that we—” 

“No, no, no.” I slid around him, grabbing the pan of congealed noodles, cheese, and sauce and carrying it to the sink. “Do not make him do anything. He’s sensitive. If he’s happier at his place, go to his place. This is all on me.” I grabbed a knife from the sink and started chipping at the crusty mess. 

“Maybe you should try dating more.” I threw him another Mama look that made the big man draw back a step. “It’s been a year since… he who must not be named. Maybe I can set you up with one of the guys on the team.” 

“There are no gay or bi men on the Railers that aren’t spoken for, Adler. And I don’t want to have you set me up. I’m a fucking fabulous Latino queer man and I’m quite capable of finding my own dates, thank you very much. Stupid fucking cheese!” I stabbed violently at the mess in the pan. “And do not bring up Jean-Claude again, even in passing and with a fake name! That cheating, pig-faced jackass! I will never cheer for that stupid team ever again! Sweet-talking French goalies are heartbreakers!” 

“Sorry, okay, I just don’t know what to do for you. Can you stop assaulting that poor food?” I paused, breathless, and stared down at the carnage. “Oh man, my lasagna.” I dropped the butter knife and the pan into the sink. Then I covered my face with a sauce-speckled hand. “I’m just not happy anymore, Adler.” One large hand settled on my shoulder, then another on the other shoulder. I shook my head but he spun me around with ease, the big pushy asshole. “What will make you happy?” “I don’t know. I want someone to want me, to need me, to love me.” “I love you,” he said, pulling me in for a big, brotherly hug that felt so good I started crying like that soap opera star Mama adored. That woman could weep at the drop of a hat. Seemed I could too, but my tears were brought on by food murder. “I know, and I love you too, but that’s brotherly love. I want…” I mumbled into his silk shirt then paused. What did I want? “I want someone of my own, Adler. Someone who’ll look at me as you look at Layton. I want something strong, real, happy. I want to feel happy again. I want to be needed.” “I need you.” “Not like you did before.” I wrapped my arms around him and held him. “You found your future; I think maybe it’s time I found mine.” He pulled back to gaze at me. His eyes were dewy. God damn me for making everything so fucking dramatic. “Can it be here in Harrisburg? I’m not sure I can function if you’re not here at my side. We’ve been together since we were kids. I remember toddling around the Maine mansion with you, running outside with Nanny trying to keep up, making mud pies then serving them to my parents when they dropped in. Oh! And that time we snuck out when we were ten to go see that horror movie. We slept together for four months afterwards. Stupid fucking shaky-headed demon women still freak me out.” I smiled, a reedy smile yes, but it was a smile. “I remember all of that, and I treasure each of food?” 

I paused, breathless, and stared down at the carnage. “Oh man, my lasagna.” I dropped the butter knife and the pan into the sink. Then I covered my face with a sauce-speckled hand. “I’m just not happy anymore, Adler.” 

One large hand settled on my shoulder, then another on the other shoulder. I shook my head but he spun me around with ease, the big pushy asshole. 

“What will make you happy?” 

“I don’t know. I want someone to want me, to need me, to love me.” 

“I love you,” he said, pulling me in for a big, brotherly hug that felt so good I started crying like that soap opera star Mama adored. That woman could weep at the drop of a hat. Seemed I could too, but my tears were brought on by food murder. 

“I know, and I love you too, but that’s brotherly love. I want…” I mumbled into his silk shirt then paused. What did I want? “I want someone of my own, Adler. Someone who’ll look at me as you look at Layton. I want something strong, real, happy. I want to feel happy again. I want to be needed.” 

“I need you.” 

“Not like you did before.” I wrapped my arms around him and held him. “You found your future; I think maybe it’s time I found mine.” 

He pulled back to gaze at me. His eyes were dewy. God damn me for making everything so fucking dramatic. 

“Can it be here in Harrisburg? I’m not sure I can function if you’re not here at my side. We’ve been together since we were kids. I remember toddling around the Maine mansion with you, running outside with Nanny trying to keep up, making mud pies then serving them to my parents when they dropped in. Oh! And that time we snuck out when we were ten to go see that horror movie. We slept together for four months afterwards. Stupid fucking shaky-headed demon women still freak me out.” 

I smiled, a reedy smile yes, but it was a smile. “I remember all of that, and I treasure each of those memories. Well, not the shaky-head demon woman, I still can’t do those, but everything else. I’m just lost, I guess. I’ve built my life around you and now you don’t need me.” I gasped. “I sound like Mama!” 

Adler chuckled, pulled me tight to his chest, and then pecked my hair affectionately. “You really do, but I get it. We’ll work on making you happy again. I can’t have my little brother unhappy. Would you like a new car?” 

“Stop,” I said on a weak laugh, my nose pressed into his shoulder. 

“A boat? Boats make people happy. You can float a boat.” 

“Stop.” 

“Oh! How about the entire Madonna musical collection? Oh wait, you already own that.” 

“Stop. What I want can’t be bought.” I squeezed his middle then broke free, wiping at my face as I stepped back. “I’m not sure what it is I do want, but it’s deeper than presents and expensive gifts. I want…” I threw up my hands in exasperation. 

Adler gave me a sad smile. “We’ll figure out what it is you want and when we do I’ll move heaven and earth to give it to you. Mi hermano.” 

My brother. I choked up again then waved him out of my kitchen so I could clean up the mess I’d made out of myself and supper. The pan would need soaking but it’d survive, just a bit more scarred than it had been before. There was some sort of life metaphor or something in that last thought. 

“Be the pan, Apollo,” I whispered to the empty room. Great, now I was patterning my life after bakeware. I really did need to figure out who I was and where the hell I was going. I’d not be able to focus well on an empty stomach or without the queen of pop, though. I’d think better after more Madonna and some chocolate-marshmallow ice cream. Obvs.

The next morning was a bleak one in Harrisburg. The March sky had been dark gray when I woke up, threatening winter fury. As the three of us were eating breakfast, the fury arrived in the form of freezing rain that crippled the city in an hour. Schools were cancelled, office and government workers given the day off, and the Railers morning skate had been scrapped. The game tonight— one of a back-to-back— was still on as far as we knew. It was an in-state game with Philadelphia, so maybe with the bad weather Trent’s Lola would stay home. We all loved the figure skater’s grandmother but she was brutal at times. Talk about a rabid fan. 

Layton and Adler lounged around in bed after breakfast. I cleaned up, ran the vacuum, and then sat at the desk by the window and stared out at the icy landscape of Harrisburg, my light therapy box on and shining on my face. For several years the box had worked pretty well, keeping me off meds for the seasonal funk I’d always fallen into. This year though… 

Rain hit the windows and froze. My mind wandered aimlessly. Winter weather sucked, it truly did. It was depressing the shit out of me. I snuggled into my thick sweater, wishing I were somewhere warm and sunny. Tucking my legs up under me, I sat there until someone lobbed a stuffed lobster at me. It missed, hit the icy window, and fell to the desk where it tipped over a cup filled with pens. 

I didn’t even have to look to know who was responsible. 

“Sorry, that was supposed to hit you in the head then I was going to yell something incredibly funny like, ‘Is that a lobster on your head or are you just happy to see me?’ but I missed and the whole joke is shot in the ass. So, hey, what are you doing?” Adler bounded over to the desk and gathered up his stuffed lobster, which he held to his bare chest. At least he had pulled on lounge pants. Sometimes he didn’t. 

“Watching the world freeze.” 

“Man, your SAD is really bad this year.” He took the back of the chair in his hands then rolled me from the window to the living room where he parked me then sat on the sofa. His ginger hair was knotted from sleep or sex, probably both given that I’d not seen Layton since we’d had breakfast. Adler had more than likely loved his man back to sleep. I so wasn’t envious of the two of them. Okay, yes, I was, and I hated that I was. “So, I was checking in on how Henry is doing.” 

“How is he?” 

“Doing okay. The leg is slow and his vision is still not where it should be, but they’re all hopeful. Anyway, I’m letting him stay at my new property in Tucson. He’s being released tomorrow and he’s on his own. He’ll be looking for someone to move in and take care of him. Clean, cook, drive him to his rehab and doctor’s appointments.” 

“So they’re looking for someone to provide home care. I’m not a nurse.” I wasn’t sure what I was. Adler Lockhart’s… what exactly? Personal assistant? Yes, that had always fit when people asked what I did. Add baby-sitter, errand boy, keeper of important facts, chief cook and bottlewasher, and shoulder to cry on and this was a fair idea of my job/ life. It revolved around Adler and always had. I loved him but was that good? I didn’t have a clue about anything aside from having chilly feet. My toes were icy cold as they peeked out from under my funky, retro bell-bottom jeans. I needed to find my slippers. 

“No, he has a nurse coming in twice a week. He needs someone to live there with him on a temporary basis. A companion. I told his brother Dan that I’d ask you.” 

My gaze flew from my cold tan toes— I needed a pedicure badly as my bright pink polish was chipped to shit— to Adler. He was the picture of earnest affection. Layton liked to say he reminded him of an Irish Setter— all red and pretty and exuberant and overeager to please. That comparison fit perfectly. 

“Me? But I have a job as your handler.” 

He snorted in amusement but the humor quickly faded. “Yeah, a job that you’re not happy with anymore.” He looked down at the stuffed lobster, a memento he’d brought home from a cruise he and Layton had taken last summer.  The summer I’d been seeing that rat bastard Jean-Claude. I spit on his memory in my mind. “You don’t have to even think about it if you don’t want to. I’d be super happy if you stayed here but you’re just so damn sad, and I feel like shit for ignoring you to be with Layton.” 

“Adler…” 

“I just thought that maybe this might be a solution. Get away from the cold weather which I know you hate, visit your Aunt SofΓ­a, hang out with Henry, who’s a nice guy who also had a disastrous relationship with a real dick-bag shithead. Work on your tan, cook food for someone who will be there to eat it, maybe make some new friends and go out, fall in love. I want you to be happy even if it kills me to see you leave.” 

I gave my head a shake. No. This wasn’t what I wanted. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.” 

“But that’s just it, I won’t be alone. I have Layton.” He reached out to place his hand on my exposed toes. “Your toes are like ice. Dude, find your slippers then have a think, okay? It’s not for ever, just until Henry is back to his normal life. Maybe three months or so? I’m sure I can manage on my own for three months.” My right eyebrow climbed up my brow. “I totally can be a grown-up if I have to be.” 

“Do you want me to go?” 

His warm hand on my cold toes felt so good. He squeezed my smallest toe playfully then gave it a tug. “No, Apollo, I don’t want you to go. I want you to be here to take care of all the shitty things about life that I like to ignore. But that’s not fair to you when you’re obviously unhappy with your life now.” 

“You’ve been talking to Layton about this, haven’t you?” I adored Adler but his upbringing made him a little blind to those around him at times. Being so rich and so spoiled, he tended to only see the brightest star in the sky, which was him. Adler was the sun and we were just little piddle planets caught in his gravitational pull. 

“No, actually, I haven’t. Well, not about the thing with Henry.  That was all me. He just suggested I try to look past my wants and needs to focus on yours, for a change.” He gave me that Adler Lockhart look. The one that said he knew he could be self-centered at times but he didn’t mean to be, which he didn’t. Adler would buy anyone anything they asked for. Sometimes, though, what a person needed couldn’t be purchased. “It was just a thought. Why don’t you think about it. I’m going back to bed. You can keep Rocky.” 

He stood then handed me the plush red lobster. “Rocky for the B-52’ s song?” 

His goofy smile lit up his face. “You know me too well.” 

Off he went to his lover. Using one foot, I rolled back to the desk, over a few pens that needed to be picked up, Rocky tucked under my arm, and resumed my moment of reflection. The rain was mixed with snow now. The charcoal sky was throwing everything it had at Harrisburg. The March storm was a sound kick in the balls for those of us who lived for summer. Spring had been so close, just a few weeks away, hiding in April. 

It’s warm in Arizona, Apollo, and sunny. There’s someone who needs you out there too. Someone who’s been broken by love just like you. Someone who’s struggling to find himself just like you. 

The soft sound of male laughter floated over me. Maybe it was time to seek out the sun. God knows living in the shadows wasn’t for me and my brilliantly queer Latino light.


The Arrangement by Felice Stevens
“Um.” Reed consulted his watch. “My shift doesn’t end for another hour.”

“I’ll wait,” said Carter without hesitation. “And I’ll take that Grey Goose now.” He stroked Reed’s fine, thin skin. “But with a twist this time.”

Reed’s eyes widened, and his nostrils flared. Unconsciously he leaned forward and triumph surged through Carter.

Yeah, that’s right, baby. Smell me; you know you want it. Carter quirked a brow, and Reed jerked back to awareness and pulled his arm away. Shooting Carter frequent dubious looks, Reed made him his drink and proceeded to set it on the bar quick enough that Carter couldn’t make a grab at him again. He backed away and began to twist at the cords of his leather bracelet.

Chuckling to himself, Carter sat there for the next hour and sipped his drink, getting just the right buzz on to the point where he could forget everything else in his life except the man who’d be coming back to his room tonight with him.

He looked up from his now-empty glass to find Reed standing beside him, wearing a beat-up leather jacket. “I-I’m finished with my shift now, but I’m not sure—”

“Not sure about what?” Carter stood and slipped his arm around Reed’s waist, inside his jacket. His warmth enveloped Carter, and strangely enough, he wanted desperately to sink into Reed’s arms. Reed tensed, and Carter felt the flex and play of his muscles underneath his clothing.

“I want you, you know that. And you want me too; it’s obvious. It’s only sex.”

“Yeah, I know that, but still.” Reed chewed his lip, suddenly looking very young and vulnerable, and an uneasy thought crept into Carter’s mind.

“How old are you?” Carter asked and held his breath.

“Twenty-seven. I know I look younger, but…”

Relief poured through Carter. A nervous lover he could handle. Still holding Reed around his waist, Carter moved even closer, fitting their hips together, letting Reed feel the weight of his arousal through his jeans.

“I want you to fuck me,” he whispered into the startled man’s ear. “Make me scream.”


RJ Scott
RJ Scott is a USA TODAY bestselling author of over 140 romance and suspense novels. From bodyguards to hockey stars, princes to millionaires, cowboys to military heroes to every-day heroes, she believes that love is love and every man deserves a happy ending.

VL Locey
USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.

Felice Stevens
I have always been a romantic at heart. I believe that while life is tough, there is always a happy ending around the corner, My characters have to work for it, however. Like life in NYC, nothing comes easy and that includes love, but getting there is oh so fun and oh so sexy.

I live in New York City with my husband and two children. My day begins with a lot of caffeine and ends with a glass (or two of red wine). I practice law but daydream of a time when I can sit by a beach somewhere and write beautiful stories of men falling in love. Although there are bound to be a few bumps along the way, a Happily Ever After is always guaranteed.



Felice Stevens
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EMAIL: felice@felicestevens.com 



Shadow and Light by RJ Scott & VL Locey
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The Arrangement by Felice Stevens
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