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Happy Grandparents Day! I asked in a Facebook M/M rec group for some of their favorite grandparent stories and got so many added to my TBR List. For Grandparents Day 2022, I chose the following 5 stories, 3 I've read and 2 I've yet to read. Perhaps the grandparents only play a minor part, some may be a flashback or the reason the MC finds themselves facing the scenario before them, some might not always play a positive role, or 100 other possible roles. Whatever the reason grandparents were featured they made a lasting impact on the MC, the story, and possibly the reader. If you have any grandparent-centric stories to rec, please feel free to comment on this post or the social media post that lead you here.
On a little personal note: I was fortunate & blessed to have most of my grandparents & a few great grandparents in my life and my blog cover above is 3 of the 4 generation pics of me with said grandparents & great grandparents.
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You're the One by Davidson King
Summary:
Thomas Vale is one of Hollywoodâs most sought-after actors. Heâs as humble as they come and adores his family. This Christmas he wants to give his dying grandfather the only thing heâs ever asked Thomas for: for Thomas to fall in love.
Noah Berry has worked for Thomas since before he was a household name. He doesnât have a close-knit family, but heâs fine with the way things are as long as he has Thomas. After all, Noah has been secretly in love with the man for years.
Thomas gets the crazy idea to bring a fake boyfriend home, but Christmas approaches and nobody is worthy enough to fulfill the task. Noah steps inâif he canât have Thomas in real life, he can pretend for a little while and make an old man happy.
Original Review December 2021:
RATING:
Davidson King does the holiday!! YUMMILICIOUS!!!!
Fake boyfriendsâ
Unspoken loveâ
Friends to loversâ
Holiday-loving familyâ
Romanceâ
Humorâ
Heartâ
You're the One ticks all my holiday romance boxes. Thomas and Noah's Christmas journey may not have the mystery, violence, and action that Davidson King often brings to the page but that doesn't make it any less brilliant. Personally, I think those missing elements speak volumes to the incredible talent the author has for storytelling.
Knowing King's penchant for giving her couples a HEA, I think we can all guess where the men's journey ends up but the road they travel getting there is so much fun, so full of holiday spirit, so many edge of your seat smiles that I won't spoil it for anyone. Just know that you won't be bored, you won't be Bah Humbugging, you'll be Santa HO! HO! HO-ing! many hours after the final page.
If you're a fan of Hallmark Christmassy romances, not only will you love You're the One but you'll be blown away because IMO, King's holiday fare is 200% better. Some may call it "holiday schmaltz" but I call it "holiday heart". Davidson King may regret having written such a holiday gem because I am already highly anticipating next year's holiday story.
RATING:

The Sweetest Thing by EM Denning
Summary:
The Blackburn Brothers Duet #1
Scotty St. James has led a complicated life. He was once on the fast track to a career in professional sports but turned his back on a promising future to barge out of the closet in the most dramatic way possible. Now, heâs a hairdresser with a love of feminine fabrics, and a crush on his brotherâs best friend, Nathan.
Nathan Blackburn is fleeing his over-protective mother. Heâs glad to be back in the town he grew up in, even if heâs there to fix up his aging grandfatherâs house. While visiting, he uses a hook up app and falls into bed with an alluring stranger. Only, the man he shares an incredible night with isnât a stranger⊠itâs Scotty.
Despite the short-lived deception, Scotty and Nathan canât stay away from each other. Fighting through family friction, personal responsibilities, and a limit on Nathanâs stay, their relationship turns into the sweetest thing either of them has ever known. With the clock running out and commitments rearing their head, Nathan will have to decide between fulfilling obligations, or following his heart.
Summary:
Memories #1
Ruthless, Controlling, A Loner. All words used to describe Dr. Micah Steinberg by the hospital staff for their next head of surgery. When a letter arrives from his grandmotherâs friend at the assisted living facility, his orderly world tilts dangerously out of control.
Josh Rosen had everything until it was revealed much of his world was a lie. Forced to re-evaluate his life, Josh gives up his career and returns home to New York City to care for his beloved grandmother. What Josh didnât figure on was an attraction to a man who on the surface, appears to be exactly like the life Josh chose to leave behind.
As Micah struggles with the reality of his grandmotherâs illness, the bond they share deepens, as Josh helps Micah heal, then open his heart. Micah discovers there is more to life than work, control and success. Josh is in deep but has yet to tell Micah who he really is. When the fight for the hospitalâs head of surgery turns ugly, Joshâs past and present collide. Micah must let go of the past and accept who he is, if his life is going to move forward.
Life is full of surprises, and as both Micah and Josh learn, love can happen whether you plan for it or not.
Josh Rosen had everything until it was revealed much of his world was a lie. Forced to re-evaluate his life, Josh gives up his career and returns home to New York City to care for his beloved grandmother. What Josh didnât figure on was an attraction to a man who on the surface, appears to be exactly like the life Josh chose to leave behind.
As Micah struggles with the reality of his grandmotherâs illness, the bond they share deepens, as Josh helps Micah heal, then open his heart. Micah discovers there is more to life than work, control and success. Josh is in deep but has yet to tell Micah who he really is. When the fight for the hospitalâs head of surgery turns ugly, Joshâs past and present collide. Micah must let go of the past and accept who he is, if his life is going to move forward.
Life is full of surprises, and as both Micah and Josh learn, love can happen whether you plan for it or not.
Original Review February 2015:
I loved how these two men really shouldn't even be in the same room together let alone a relationship and yet I couldn't really imagine one without the other. I won't lie, there were times that I just wanted to throttle Micah but then Josh didn't exactly just roll over and take it, which thrilled me to no end. Enemies to lovers can be more difficult to accomplish than most people think, especially when the pair do both, fight and love, so amazingly well. Throw in a couple of grandmothers and you have a story that went straight to my heart. Felice Stevens is definitely an up and coming author to keep in your sights.
RATING:
I loved how these two men really shouldn't even be in the same room together let alone a relationship and yet I couldn't really imagine one without the other. I won't lie, there were times that I just wanted to throttle Micah but then Josh didn't exactly just roll over and take it, which thrilled me to no end. Enemies to lovers can be more difficult to accomplish than most people think, especially when the pair do both, fight and love, so amazingly well. Throw in a couple of grandmothers and you have a story that went straight to my heart. Felice Stevens is definitely an up and coming author to keep in your sights.

Summary:
Raised in near seclusion by an agoraphobic mother, Davy Cooper's social skills are almost nonexistent. Now that his mother has died, he needs to make friends for the first time in his life. He catches Gavin Walker's eye, but the sexy, confident, bad boy hipster intimidates shy Davy so much that he throws away Gavin's number every time he offers it.
When Gavin defends Davy from a rude guy, Davy begins to warm to him. However, with his limited experience, he thinks he and Gavin are too different, and anything more than a casual acquaintance will end in complete disaster.
A Demon Inside by Rick R Reed
Summary:
Hunter Beaumont doesn't understand his grandmother's deathbed wish: "Destroy Beaumont House." He'd never even heard of the place. But after his grandmother passes and his first love betrays him, the family house in the Wisconsin woods looks like a tempting refuge. Going against his grandmother's wishes, Hunter flees to Beaumont House.
But will the house be the sanctuary he had hoped for? Soon after moving in, Hunter realizes he may not be alone. And who -- or what -- he shares the house may plunge him into a nightmare from which he may never escape.
Sparks fly when he meets his handsome neighbor, a caretaker for the estate next door, but is the man salvation...or is he the source of Hunter's terror?
Re-Read Review September 2020:
OMG! A Demon Inside is just as, if not more so, creepy as it was 4 years ago. I'm really not going to say anymore than I did in my original review, I don't want to give anything away to any new readers. I'll say this, Demon was my first Rick R Reed book and it was not my last, he has a way of blending heart and creep with just the right flavor of mystery to create not only a great story but a world you get sucked into. You feel every bump in the night, hear every body-less whisper, think every did-I-see-that, did-I-hear-that, did-that-happen? moment. If you love being scared then A Demon Inside is definitely a read for you.
Original Review October 2016:
First off, the fact that most of this story is set in Wisconsin was a real upside for me. As a Wisconsinite, it's always a thrill to read stories set in my state, it's not one often used and on top of that, one of my college advisors has written many books about haunted Wisconsin, we even have one here in my hometown, so the location is just an added bonus. Now, back to A Demon Inside, this is the first book by Rick R Reed that I have read and well, let's just say it won't be the last. To say Hunter Beaumont's life will never be the same when he doesn't follow his grandmother's dying wish to destroy Beaumont House is an understatement. A Demon Inside is creepy, weird, and just plain scary but there's also a little romance which may seem out of place in such a dark story but truthfully, it only heightens the freak out factor. Along with the Wisconsin connection, I'm a bit of an introvert myself so I felt for Hunter immediately and understood so much of what his inner monologue was saying. A great addition to my Halloween/paranormal shelf.
RATING:
Summary:
Hunter Beaumont doesn't understand his grandmother's deathbed wish: "Destroy Beaumont House." He'd never even heard of the place. But after his grandmother passes and his first love betrays him, the family house in the Wisconsin woods looks like a tempting refuge. Going against his grandmother's wishes, Hunter flees to Beaumont House.
But will the house be the sanctuary he had hoped for? Soon after moving in, Hunter realizes he may not be alone. And who -- or what -- he shares the house may plunge him into a nightmare from which he may never escape.
Sparks fly when he meets his handsome neighbor, a caretaker for the estate next door, but is the man salvation...or is he the source of Hunter's terror?
Re-Read Review September 2020:
OMG! A Demon Inside is just as, if not more so, creepy as it was 4 years ago. I'm really not going to say anymore than I did in my original review, I don't want to give anything away to any new readers. I'll say this, Demon was my first Rick R Reed book and it was not my last, he has a way of blending heart and creep with just the right flavor of mystery to create not only a great story but a world you get sucked into. You feel every bump in the night, hear every body-less whisper, think every did-I-see-that, did-I-hear-that, did-that-happen? moment. If you love being scared then A Demon Inside is definitely a read for you.
Original Review October 2016:
First off, the fact that most of this story is set in Wisconsin was a real upside for me. As a Wisconsinite, it's always a thrill to read stories set in my state, it's not one often used and on top of that, one of my college advisors has written many books about haunted Wisconsin, we even have one here in my hometown, so the location is just an added bonus. Now, back to A Demon Inside, this is the first book by Rick R Reed that I have read and well, let's just say it won't be the last. To say Hunter Beaumont's life will never be the same when he doesn't follow his grandmother's dying wish to destroy Beaumont House is an understatement. A Demon Inside is creepy, weird, and just plain scary but there's also a little romance which may seem out of place in such a dark story but truthfully, it only heightens the freak out factor. Along with the Wisconsin connection, I'm a bit of an introvert myself so I felt for Hunter immediately and understood so much of what his inner monologue was saying. A great addition to my Halloween/paranormal shelf.
RATING:

You're the One by Davidson King
CHAPTER ONE
Noah
âYou need to calm down, Miss Thing.â I narrowed my gaze at the blond bombshell standing in front of me who thought she was getting in to see Thomas.
âHeâs expecting me.â She tried to push past security, toward me, thinking weâd roll over because she was Chantel Morrison, a box-office draw.
âNoâŠno, he is not. Shoo.â I made a sweeping motion with my fingers, and her ivory skin flushed red.
âListen, you little gnatââ
âNope.â I covered my ears. âBye.â I spun on my heel and went into the room she was desperately trying to enter.
When I shut the door, Thomas was sitting on the couch, a small smile on his face as he looked at me. âSheâs relentless.â
âWhy, Thomas? Why did you have to take her to the Oscars with you? Now she thinks youâre going to have babies with her.â After locking the door, I went and sat beside him.
âI didnât know sheâd turn into a face-hugger, Noah. She was actually quite relaxed and calm at the show. Then the next day it was bam, letâs get married.â
Thomas Vale was everything in Hollywood, and I was his personal assistant. Iâd been by his side since the days he could only get a minor role on a soap opera. When he skyrocketed to fame, heâd made sure I was holding on. We were friendsâŠand I was madly in love with him. Not that he knew thatâno, he could never. The trust Thomas had in me was worth never telling him that little fact.
âMight I suggest going solo to the next award show?â
He chuckled. âNoted.â His phone buzzed and he sighed.
âWhatâs wrong? Did she get your number? I will go out there right now andââ
âNo, she didnât, and if she had, Iâd have blocked her. No reason to summon your inner Bruce Lee on my account.â
Yeah, I was only five foot seven, and the only exercise I got on the daily was swimming laps at nightâŠwell, when I could. Sure, a swift wind could blow me over. But I was spunky. I had defensive skills, thanks to many bullies while growing up.
âFine. Explain the frown and sigh and dejected body language?â I eyed him, then his phone, which he was scowling hard at.
âChristmas is next month.â
âOookaaay? Iâve never known you to be a scrooge, Thomas. Youâre actually a festive fella.â I laughed when he rolled his eyes.
âI love Christmas. You know I always go home. Spend it with my family in the mountains. Itâs the only time all of us are together for the year.â
âAnd, what, it was canceled?â Getting him to tell me things sometimes was like pulling teeth.
He turned his body slightly, folding his leg so he was now sitting on his foot, staring at me. âMy grandfatherââ
âVictor orââ
âWilliam.â
âOkay, continue.â
âHeâs dying.â Thomasâs shoulders slumped, and as if his pain were mine, I gasped.
âThomas, why didnât you tell me?â I knew his family as if they were my own. Sure, Iâd never met them because Thomas barely even had time to see them himself. But Iâd practically memorized everything about them. Birthdays, anniversaries, where they lived, the pets they ownedâŠall of it.
âI was well aware youâd do this thing youâre doing right now, had I told you.â He waved a hand at me.
âIâm concerned; how is that a thing?â He shrugged. âJust is. Youâre dramatic.â
âSays the actor,â I huffed.
âI know my grandfather is oldâŠlike really old. It was going to happen eventually.â
âYes. Life is funny that way.â He slapped my leg. âWhat? Iâm agreeing with you.â
âAnyway. Last Christmas, he knew he was sick. Lung cancer.â
âSeriously, Thomas, why did you never tell me any of this? You said your grandfather had the flu. I sent flowers from you saying get well soonâŠto himâŠand he had lung cancer.â
âI didnât want anyone to know. Iâm sorry.â
Here I was making him feel bad for not telling me when his grandfather was dying⊠I suck. âNo, forget it. Iâm a brat. Go on. I assume the cancer is back?â
He nodded. âThing is, last year he and I were sitting outside, watching my nieces play in the snow. He took my hand, Noah, and pleaded with me that before he died, he wanted me to fall in love. Of course I swore to him I was fine, but as his dying wishâŠhe made me promise to try and let someone in.â
My eyes widened. âHe made you promise to fall in love with someone?â
âNo. He just said it would be his dying wish. And I really thought he was going to be okay, and Iâd have time butâŠâ He sighed again.
âBut time is running out.â
He nodded. âI wish I could give him that. Show him I have someone in my life to love and Iâll be fine.â
âThomas, you canât force yourself to love someone to appease a dying manâs last wish, even if itâs your grandfather. Donât you think it would hurt him even more if he found out you were putting on a show on his account?â
Thomasâs eyes widened and a huge smile graced his handsome face. I knew that look. âNoah, youâre a genius.â
âUm, Thomas, whatever youâre thinking, no. It canât be good.â
âBecause Iâm happy?â
âNo. Because something you clearly heard made you grin like the Grinch, and nothing I said was a good idea.â
He tilted his head back and laughed so hard his body shook. Carefree Thomas was the best.
âHear me out.â He giggled like a child, excited and quite animated.
âAs if I have a choice.â
My sarcasm was completely lost on Thomas, or he was ignoring it. More likely it was the latter.
âThe doctor gave him three months. If I can bring someone home for the holidays, and itâs massively convincing that weâre in love, it will make his final time peaceful.â
All I could do was stare at him, waiting for the âJust kidding.â It never came. Sweet Mother Mercy.
âThomas, thatâs a disaster waiting to happen.â
âI donât think so. If I find the right person toââ
âLie to? Thomas, youâre going to grab someone and be all, âHey, I love you, meet my family?â â
Thomas huffed. âNo, but Iâm in an industry full of actors. Iâm sure I could find someone willing to do this.â
I had to pinch the bridge of my nose to release the pressure. âAnd you donât think, at the slightest convenience, they wonât sell this story to the tabloids? Thomas, why are you acting dumb? Itâs not who you are. Youâre above average in the smarts department.â
He snickered and sat back. âIt has to be the right person. Someone trustworthy but who could pull it off. We can have them sign an NDA.â
âWeâŠoh, Iâm helping?â
âWho else would be able to find the perfect person for me other than the person who knows me best?â He beamed and fucking fluttered his eyelashesâŠthe asshole.
âOne day I will quit.â
He stood and went over to the vanity. He was about to go on The Tonight Show in fifteen minutes, right before Chantel Morrison, which explained why she was there.
âYouâll never leave me, Noah.â
He looked at me through the mirror and I pouted, knowing he was right. Was it just because I loved him? No, Thomas needed protecting, and Iâd never let anything happen to him.
âFine, let me see what my brain can come up with. Operation Fool Grandpa is in full effect.â
They knocked and told him it was time, and with one last titter, he left the dressing room. I sat on the couch for a few moments wondering how in the hell Iâd help him pull this off.
The Sweetest Thing by EM Denning
Chapter One
Nathan
The city had grown since his last trip back home and Nathaniel almost missed his turn. The grindr guy he wanted to hook up with lived in an older part of town, but so many of the landmarks Nathaniel had been used to had changed.
He recognized the area. It wasnât the cheapest, darkest part of town, but it wasnât the greatest either. Not that it mattered. The guy he was about to hook up with, Aaron, had promised him a good time. He was Nathanielâs type too. Tall, trim, and pretty. Fuck, the guy had a full set of gorgeous lips and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass.
Aaron had warned him about his femme nature, his love of heels and eyeshadow. Nathaniel, who usually went by Nathan, and Neil when he was hooking up with guys, assured him he didnât care. Aaron also announced the various things heâd love to do to Neilâs ass.
Nathan adjusted his package and looked for the apartment building. It was a twelve-plex on a little used street behind a gas station. Nathan parked his car and climbed out. Heâd arrived in town yesterday. Heâd only be around for a few weeks, maybe a month, tops. His mom had called nearly a dozen times and was already driving him nuts. He needed this escape.
He climbed the stairs to the top floor and knocked on 3B. A sing song voice called out to him, telling him to wait a minute. It wasnât more than half that when the door swung open and a gorgeous man greeted him.
Aaron held his hand out, a hand connected to a pair of solid arms. Manicured nails, done in a sparkling blue that matched his top caught Nathanâs eye. âIâm Aaron,â he introduced himself as he not-at-all-subtly raked his gaze over Nathan.
âIâm Neil.â
âCome in.â Aaron stepped aside, revealing a decently clean apartment, which Nathan felt thankful for. âShould we skip the formality?â Aaron turned on his heel, a four-inch spike and tossed Nathan a look over his shoulder. âMy bedroom is down the hall.â
Nathan grinned and followed him, watching the way his ass swayed and his graceful gait.
Aaron stopped inside the door to his bedroom, one hand on his hip. âAre you coming, or what?â
Nathan whipped his shirt off and strode toward Aaron. âHell, yes.â
âGood. Iâd have hated all this,â he motioned to his face and his excellent make up, âto have gone to waste.â
Aaron walked backward, leading Nathan, luring him with a silent siren song. Aaronâs room stunned Nathan. He stopped and looked around. Heâd been in a few bedrooms over the years, but never one that said so much about a person. This room fit Aaron. The vanity off to the side looked cluttered at first glance, but Nathan noticed the different stands and holders for the brushes and lipsticks. Twinkle lights ran up the wall above it, then fanned across the ceiling, and the curtain, also blue, wasnât a proper curtain. Blinds poked out from underneath, but heâd draped a large piece of blue fabric over them. It looked sparkly andâa well-manicured, warm hand touched his cheek.
Aaron stood in front of him and held his gaze as he stepped out of his shoes. Without the extra height, he stood a couple inches shorter. He brushed his fingers down the side of Nathanâs throat and the way that simple touch woke his body, it made him think heâd never been touched there before. Or heâd never been touched at all.
âAre you going to make me wait even longer, Neil? Or are you going to kiss me?â Aaron whispered.
Nathan exhaled. The twinkle lights made everything in the room seem like a fantasy. Like heâd stepped through the back of some fucked up wardrobe and into the bedroom of a guy so beautiful he couldnât be real.
He leaned in and Aaron smelled of citrus and spice. His skin was the softest thing Nathan had ever felt. He held Aaronâs hip in one hand, his thumb grazed under the shimmery shirt he wore.
Then, somehow, they were kissing. It happened in a rush of blind lust and if Nathan were asked to describe it later, heâd say there were fireworks. He cupped Aaronâs face and teased his tongue through his lips into Aaronâs mouth. They battled like that, back and forth, Aaron fighting him for supremacy.
Aaronâs hands skimmed up Nathanâs back, his nails gently brushed against his skin and it made Nathan shiver. He pulled out of the kiss, needing air, because Aaron had taken it all. Nathan inhaled, his chest impossibly tight.
Aaron raked his nails over Nathanâs skin again and smirked when Nathan shivered.
âI could have fun with that,â Aaronâs confident tone made Nathan throb. âBut later. First youâre going to take those pants off and get on my bed.â
Nathan popped the button of his jeans and without breaking eye contact, he stripped out of his pants. âHow do you want me?â
Aaron appraised him, appreciated him, if the hungry look on his face were a proper indication. âI want you however youâll have me.â Aaron brushed a soft kiss against the corner of Nathanâs mouth.
Nathan wanted more of Aaron. Heâd hit the grindr jackpot. Sex would never be the same after this night. He already knew heâd compare every kiss to the fireworks heâd experienced a minute ago. Every touch would be measured against Aaronâs to see if it made him as hot.
Nathan got on the bed, on his back, because he wanted to look at Aaron. And taste him. âKneel over me,â he pleaded. âI want to suck you.â
Aaron grinned at him and pulled his shimmery shirt off and discarded it. âOh, you will. But not yet.â He popped the button on his jeans and peeled them down his legs. For how skinny and tight his jeans had been, theyâd come off in a practiced motion that was more like a dance than undressing.
Aaron knelt on the bed. Naked and lean. Long lines. Trim body. He wasnât ripped, Nathan couldnât see a six pack or anything, but he was beautiful. His had skin like polished marble and his siren voice had Nathan under his spell.
He touched Nathan, slid his hands up Nathanâs furry legs and he looked at him with a hunger Nathan knew would ruin him. Nathan eased his legs apart to make more room.
Aaron seemed to be done talking but instead of going for it right away, Aaron kissed him above the knee. He worked his way up the inside of Nathanâs leg. Nathan watched him and every so often he got rewarded with a glimpse of Aaronâs eyes when he looked up at him.
His hand smoothed up Nathanâs body. It avoided his cock and skimmed up beside it, across the crease of his leg then up his abdomen. He dug his nails in a little, not hard enough to hurt but enough that the sensation shot through Nathanâs body. The sharpness warning Nathan he could be hurt if Aaron chose to, the gentle glide down his side a promise that he wouldnât.
Nathan exhaled and Aaron kissed the base of Nathanâs cock. He had prepared for this, inside and out. Penetrative sex was an option he left open, but he didnât always want it. Tonight, though, he needed it. He needed to have Aaron inside him. He wanted the memory.
Aaron looked up at him and their gazes seared, hot and full of wanting, as Aaronâs tongue poked out of his mouth and he dragged it up Nathanâs cock. He swirled it around the head, teasing Nathan for several long moments of torture that heâd happily endure forever. Then he wrapped his lips around it, closed his eyes, and took Nathan into his mouth.
Just the head at first. Nathanâs hips rose off the bed and unbidden, he wriggled like a greedy slut. His body begged for more, pleaded for Aaron to hurry and take him apart, even as Nathan wanted every moment to slow down so he could remember everything later. Every slide of skin and scrape of teeth and nail on his flesh was a thing he wanted etch into his memory.
Then his cock went deeper into Aaronâs mouth, down his throat and Nathan was close to blowing his load. Aaron pulled off and gave him a look full of wicked mischief before climbing up Nathanâs body, baptizing him in kisses along the way. He hoped Aaronâs lip gloss wore off on his skin and left evidence of him behind. Nathan never got sentimental about his hookups, but maybe heâd been single too long. Maybe there was something about Aaron that appealed to him. Their chemistry was off the charts, but laying here, in his bed, Nathan felt treasured and approved of.
Aaron kissed his throat, up the line of his jaw. His tongue caressed the shell of Nathanâs ear and he shuddered as his lust tore through him. Then Aaron sat up and reached for the supplies on the nightstand. Nathan had noticed them when he walked in, but now it became so very real. Aaron was going to be inside him.
âOf course,â Aaron said as he snapped the bottle of lube open. âPrepping you myself would be fun, but I canât risk you with my nails.â He grabbed Nathanâs hand and cradled it in his. His gaze flicked to Nathanâs face, then to his hand and he painted Nathanâs fingers with lube. âYouâll have to open yourself for me.â
Aaron moved back to give Nathan room, but he also gave him a show. He wrapped his hand around his cock and made a show of it. His knees spread wide apart, his hand slid at a steady pace up and down his cock. His chest heaved. âGet your fingers in your ass. I want to watch you.â
Nathan obeyed. He teased the rim before plunging two fingers in. The sudden stretch made him inhale, but heâd done this earlier and was still partially relaxed. He fucked himself with his fingers. He wanted to show Aaron how much he wanted him. Desperation had him begging after a few seconds, because two fingers wasnât enough. He needed to be filled. Filled and fucked.
Aaron stopped stroking his cock and tore a condom open. Nathan watched with avid interest as he rolled it down his cock. Theyâd traded statuses and decided on condoms when theyâd talked earlier, and Nathan was glad theyâd arranged everything ahead of time. It took the guesswork out of it when everyone knew what to expect.
âHow do you want it?â Aaron asked as he slicked the condom.
Nathanâs fingers left his ass with a wet squelching sound. âI like it when Iâm on my stomach.â
The corner of Aaronâs still perfectly glossed lips curled up. âTurn over.â
Nathan almost didnât want to break the spell of eye contact, but maybe it would be better if he didnât let Aaron fuck him and stare into his eyes. This already felt too big and too real, too amazing. And Nathan was in town for a few weeks. Maybe a month. This wasnât something he could keep.
Aaronâs touch was fire. His hands smoothed down Nathanâs spine. âYouâre beautiful.â Aaron breathed the words against Nathanâs shoulder, and planted a kiss between his shoulders.
If Nathan thought he could escape the weight of this by turning over and denying Aaron eye contact, heâd been an idiot. Because now he noticed everything. The way Aaronâs skin felt hot and smooth against his. The way he touched Nathan with a lusty reverence. The slight tremble of Aaronâs hand as he lined himself up with Nathanâs waiting hole.
âOh, holy fuck.â Nathan said as Aaron gripped his hips and slid inside. The stretch was enough to make Nathan breathe heavy, but not enough to hurt. It felt amazing and Aaron hadnât moved yet.
Then, Aaronâs hands curled around Nathanâs waist and he gripped tight as he pulled out, then slowly, torturously, slid back inside. He did this a few times, until Nathan was drawn tight, his entire body singing out with the desperate need to be fucked.
And Aaron delivered. He plastered himself against Nathanâs back, shoved an arm under him and held him tight. He breathed in Nathanâs ear, not speaking, as he fucked him. He drove into him again and again, and the whole time he did, his heavy breaths in Nathanâs ear reminded him of how real this was. And how not real. Because when they were done, Nathan would leave and this whole thing would be a memory that after time, would fade into something Nathan would convince himself heâd only dreamed.
Aaronâs husky voice brought him back. âFuck, Iâm so close.â
And so was Nathan, he realized. Heâd never been fucked so good before, so completely. Like the dick that was in him was meant to be there. Aaron didnât feel foreign. He felt hot and safe. And Nathan bucked, pressing his ass up, urging Aaron deeper and Aaron redoubled his effort, fucking Nathan at a brutal pace, owning his ass until they both trembled and shuddered and came.
Nathan closed his eyes and waited for the universe to go back to normal all the while wondering if it ever could.
Memories of the Heart by Felice Stevens
What do you care about, Micah?â Josh couldnât help but ask.
âMy grandmother,â he promptly answered. âI know now what a shit Iâve been, dumping her away and thinking my money would take care of everything. I was no better than my parents, was I? Giving shelter and food, but nothing else.â
âItâs not too late, though. Youâve changed since that time I first saw you.â
Micahâs unblinking gaze focused on Josh. âNot really. Iâve spent a little more time with her and I have you and your grandmother to thank for that. But if Iâm going to go for head of department at the hospital, I wonât be able to see her as much again. Iâll have too many responsibilities.â
And once again, Josh saw how different the two of them were. Heâd left all that behind when he left Craig. When theyâd won their big case, heâd let Craig do most of the media interviews, since he was the one who loved being on television and getting recognized. Occasionally theyâd want Josh to speak and he did so, but only when necessary. Josh preferred to use his minor celebrity status for better causes and spend time at local youth organizations, lecturing at-risk teens on how they too could make something of themselves even if their parents and friends had cut them off for being gay.
Josh had no interest in being the biggest or the best in his field. Heâd learned to be satisfied with what he had. Lately though, he thought heâd like to practice again, maybe open a small employment-discrimination law firm.
âWhy do you want it then? What will it do for you that you donât already have?â The money, prestige and power held no allure for Josh. Heâd experienced that already and it had brought him nothing but misery.
âAre you kidding? It lets the world know youâre the most successful at what you do. Youâre respected by all your peers. You have power and control, the best research opportunities. Itâs endless.â Josh might have had four heads the way Micah stared at him.
âBut what about you, your life? Donât you get lonely?â
With the graceful movement of a jungle cat, Micah grabbed Josh around the waist, pulling him close. Their breaths mingled, lips barely touching. âIâm not alone now, am I?â
At those simple words, desire flooded through Josh, spilling thick and rich through his veins like warmed honey. His breath caught in his throat. All the warning signals Josh tried so studiously to pay attention to went out the window when Micah cupped his jaw, smoothing his thumb across Joshâs lips.
The spaciousness of Micahâs living room closed in on Josh, until all that was left in his line of vision was Micahâs dark, hungry gaze. Nerves fluttered beneath Joshâs skin; he struggled for his equilibrium.
âNo, you arenât alone.â Josh could barely choke out the words. He didnât know when the rules had changed, when he had changed them, but Josh wanted this man. The air pulsed heavy with heat and sex. So long, so long. Josh moaned, his mind a whirlpool of sensation as Micah stroked his face with his beautiful hands. He hadnât been touched like this in years, not even by Craig who was supposed to have loved him. Was he merely auditioning for another notch on Micah Steinbergâs bedpost? At this point Josh ceased caring and gave in to the need that seized him, pulling Micahâs head down to kiss his mouth.
âMy grandmother,â he promptly answered. âI know now what a shit Iâve been, dumping her away and thinking my money would take care of everything. I was no better than my parents, was I? Giving shelter and food, but nothing else.â
âItâs not too late, though. Youâve changed since that time I first saw you.â
Micahâs unblinking gaze focused on Josh. âNot really. Iâve spent a little more time with her and I have you and your grandmother to thank for that. But if Iâm going to go for head of department at the hospital, I wonât be able to see her as much again. Iâll have too many responsibilities.â
And once again, Josh saw how different the two of them were. Heâd left all that behind when he left Craig. When theyâd won their big case, heâd let Craig do most of the media interviews, since he was the one who loved being on television and getting recognized. Occasionally theyâd want Josh to speak and he did so, but only when necessary. Josh preferred to use his minor celebrity status for better causes and spend time at local youth organizations, lecturing at-risk teens on how they too could make something of themselves even if their parents and friends had cut them off for being gay.
Josh had no interest in being the biggest or the best in his field. Heâd learned to be satisfied with what he had. Lately though, he thought heâd like to practice again, maybe open a small employment-discrimination law firm.
âWhy do you want it then? What will it do for you that you donât already have?â The money, prestige and power held no allure for Josh. Heâd experienced that already and it had brought him nothing but misery.
âAre you kidding? It lets the world know youâre the most successful at what you do. Youâre respected by all your peers. You have power and control, the best research opportunities. Itâs endless.â Josh might have had four heads the way Micah stared at him.
âBut what about you, your life? Donât you get lonely?â
With the graceful movement of a jungle cat, Micah grabbed Josh around the waist, pulling him close. Their breaths mingled, lips barely touching. âIâm not alone now, am I?â
At those simple words, desire flooded through Josh, spilling thick and rich through his veins like warmed honey. His breath caught in his throat. All the warning signals Josh tried so studiously to pay attention to went out the window when Micah cupped his jaw, smoothing his thumb across Joshâs lips.
The spaciousness of Micahâs living room closed in on Josh, until all that was left in his line of vision was Micahâs dark, hungry gaze. Nerves fluttered beneath Joshâs skin; he struggled for his equilibrium.
âNo, you arenât alone.â Josh could barely choke out the words. He didnât know when the rules had changed, when he had changed them, but Josh wanted this man. The air pulsed heavy with heat and sex. So long, so long. Josh moaned, his mind a whirlpool of sensation as Micah stroked his face with his beautiful hands. He hadnât been touched like this in years, not even by Craig who was supposed to have loved him. Was he merely auditioning for another notch on Micah Steinbergâs bedpost? At this point Josh ceased caring and gave in to the need that seized him, pulling Micahâs head down to kiss his mouth.
Trouble and the Wallflower by Kade Boehme
Chapter One
Davy passed an ice cream cone loaded with two black-licorice ice cream scoops to a beaming toddler who bounced in her fatherâs arms. After a thanks and a tip from the dad, Davy gave his typically shy smile-and-nod routine. He was pretty sure he was the only person who managed to ever get tips off shyness, but he figured it was because working in an old-fashioned soda shop where the majority of clientele were tourists and children, being unassuming was preferable to being overeager. People were at ease around his shy nature and it paid his bills
The bell that hung above the door jingled, followed by laughter, signaling that he had customers. As he turned to greet them, he couldnât even muster a smile when he recognized the group of five guys walking in. Okay. So there was occasionally something about his job that wasnât quite so comfortable, and these guysâmore specifically one of these guysârattled his cage and he wasnât sure why.
Well, that was a lie. He knew why. They were around his age and attractive, his opposites in every way, and they were guys. Cute guys. They had the hipstery look of most Seattle twentysomethings and spoke freely with one another, laughing raucously at their own ridiculousness. They came in at least once a week. In fact, he knew most of their orders by heart at this point. He also knew they were all openly gay after having heard plenty of their carefree conversations. He knew they were students and all of them worked in the area surrounding the market at Pikeâs Place. Heâd seen most of them daily, though he was certain they never noticed him. Not many people did. He liked it that way. But one of them always noticed him. Whether they were in Bartâs Soda Shop where Davy worked or if they bumped into each other on the street, this one guy rattled him the most because he saw Davy.
Davy had figured out the guyâs name was Gavin, mostly because the guy had told him. About a hundred times. Gavin always zeroed right in on Davy even as the rest of the world passed quiet Davy by as if he were a ghost. It was unnerving. Davy didnât know what to do around other guys in general. He could sit in the club for hours being a wallflower, seeing the occasional guy look his way, and never once leave his spot. Heâd flee before anyone thought to approach him. He wasnât a total freak, but being around other guys, especially gay men, tended to make him a nervous wreck. But damn if he never gave up.
Gavin with his beanies and skinny jeans that hung low in the crotch and his wicked grin that sported two devastating dimples was definitely someone Davy couldnât ignore. And those eyes. Big brown eyes that were shadowed by his ridged forehead and prominent eyebrows. Those eyebrows were perfect. Dimples and glinting brown eyes aside, Davy had heard enough of their conversations to know Gavin wasnât exactly a blushing virgin. Not by a long shot. Davy didnât intend to be a notch on that guyâs bedpost any time soon. Not that he was a notch on many guysâ bedposts willingly, but he did his damnedest to avoid it where this guy was concerned.
Of course, Gavinâs gaze locked on Davyâs before anyone elseâs as his small group of friends made it to the counter. Gavin shot Davy what he must think was his most winning grin. Davy gave his usual responseâhe rolled his eyes. Gavin laughed, his friends shook their heads at him, but he was never discouraged, damn him. He hung back as usual as his friends came up one at a time to order their milkshakes, floats, and cones. Davy kept peeking out of the corner of his eye as, one by one, he handed each of the other guys their treats. They looked at him apologetically, rolling their eyes right along with him, always confirming that the only reason they came in the shop was so Gavin could throw himself at his potential conquest.
Davy often wondered how Gavin was so certain that Davy was gay. Not that he wasnât gay. He most definitely was. But it still seemed he was way too quiet for anyone to make an assumption other than perhaps thinking he was asexual. Perhaps Gavin hit on all men that shamelessly, but he seemed overly confident that he might have a chance with Davy. Which he did not. At all.
Finally, it was Gavinâs turn and Davy plastered on his best fake smile, but crossed his arms over his chest as Gavin slid smoothly up to the counter with that annoyingly sexy smile and those devilish eyes and leaned in as close as he could, elbows propped on the top of the counter, chin in his hands. Davy quirked and eyebrow as Gavin shamelessly appraised him, causing Davy to blush. Damn how easily he blushed for giving him away every time. Didnât matter that his skin was naturally a honeyed tan, his blush still shone bright on his high cheekbones. Gavinâs smile grew smug every time Davyâs cheeks colored and it really pissed Davy off. Another one of many reasons he wouldnât give this guy the time of day.
âHeya, Davy.â Gavinâs voice dripped with suggestion and Davy rolled his eyes. Again.
âHello, sir. Cherry limeade, as usual?â Davy kept his tone even.
Gavin gripped his heart dramatically and his friends snickered behind him. Davyâs lips thinned in annoyance. âOuch, Dave-o. I remember your name. Do I mean so little to you?â
âLess than youâd think,â Davy said with a glare. He hated this guy for getting a rise out of him. He tried to tell himself it was because he couldnât stand the guy, but he knew it was because he actually wanted to jump the counter and lick the guy from head to toe. Thankfully Gavin didnât know that he was the only person who inspired any type of reaction out of Davy, who was normally shy enough he wouldnât backtalk someone who jumped in front of him in line. Damn this Gavin dude.
Gavin leaned in again with a smirk. âNow, I just donât think thatâs so, Davy. I donât see you talking smack to my friends. I donât see you talk back to anyone, really. So I think youâre just playing hard to get.â
Shit. âWhatever.â
Clever. Gavinâs eyes practically widened in excitement. Davyâs lack of a poker face must have shown Gavin that he was right. Although heâd call it never gonna get before heâd say hard to get. He looked to Gavinâs friends, beseeching the strangers with his eyes to intervene. They were all too busy turning red from laughter or shrugging apologetically. No help there. Before he embarrassed himself with this jackass any further, Davy turned to the soda station and started squeezing limes for the cherry limeade. He just wanted them gone.
He concentrated on the work at hand, breathing in and out. If only Gavin understood. Heâd give anything to be normal enough to just take his number one of the million times heâd offered it. Heâd love to go have that coffee with him. But Davy wasnât normal. He was struggling past a panic attack now. The only thing stopping him from freaking out totally was the familiar actions. Cut the lime in half, juice it, add sugar and carbonated water. Shake. Shit. He forgot grenadine. He had to look at Gavin again because the grenadine was under the counter. Damn. He avoided eye contact but he could feel the smirk on Gavinâs face, and part of him wanted the throw the guyâs drink in his face. The rest of him wanted to run into the back and hide. He hated being noticed. Why couldnât Gavin just figure that out?
When he went to pour the drink into a to-go cup, Gavin cleared his throat, making Davy look up at him, startled. âSomething got you flustered?â Gavinâs smugness really, really made Davy reconsider running and vote for slinging the drink in the guyâs cocky mug. Gavin nodded down at Davyâs hands, and Davy noticed heâd dumped the damn limeade on the floor instead of into the cup.
Shit!
Davy had to control the growl that wanted to escape.
Get a grip. Now Gavinâs friends were in full hysterics, and Davy hated them for it. He wanted to die. He flung the cup in the trash and turned to make another limeade, and poured it into the cup this time instead of the floor. âOn the house,â he said. Please just leave.
Gavin held his hands out as if he was surrendering.
âNo, no, no. I insist.â Gavin pulled some cash out of the pocket on his plaid button-down shirt.
âI messed up the first one, so this oneâs on the house.â Davy flashed his best grin at the friends, then with a âHave a good afternoon,â he escaped into the back room, wishing he could get farther away from Gavin than that. From the stockroom he could hear choruses of âshamelessâ and âcreeperâ from Gavinâs cackling crew of friends.
After the bell over the door signaled their departure, Davy waited for their laughter to recede like the coward he was, then sighed and headed back out into the shop. He came up short as soon as he opened the curtain that separated the front counter and the back rooms. Gavin was still there, leaning on the counter and sucking on his drink through a straw. Yeah, those lips wrapped around that straw held a promise. A promise Davy had to will his body to ignore. All he needed was for that pest to see him get hard for him. This was one of those moments where Davy was sorry they employees had gotten rid of their uniform aprons, though heâd originally been the one to suggest it.
Gavin noticed Davy before he could even think of slipping back into the storeroom again, but he knew heâd look silly sneaking off. âYou didnât think Iâd leave without giving you a tip, did you?â There was that suggestive tone again. Who was this guy, The Most Interesting Man in the World? It was as though his voice dropped an octave just to sound sexy. It was as though he studied too many noir films to get his come-ons. Davy almost laughed at the idea of the shaggy-haired guy before him in a trench coat and fedora. Then Gavinâs eyes got that predatory gleam again. Shit. He must have seen that almost-smile. Shit.
âUh. Really, it wasnât necessary. I messed up.â Davy busied himself with a mop, cleaning the spilled drink from the floor, but Gavin didnât take his hint to bugger off. But why should this time be any different?
âNo. I insist.â He made sure Davy saw him slip a ten-dollar bill in the tip jar. Davy wanted to pull it out and throw it at him, but he couldnât turn down a tip. And didnât this guy know a tip was a tacky way to try to pick someone up. What am I, a hooker? âYou know, my gramps loves peanut-butter shakes. I remember you saying to someone that you made the best. Mind whipping one up for him? To go, of course.â
Davy huffed. Damn was he glad his boss wasnât here to see him being so rude to a customer, but wasnât this sexual harassment, anyway? He had a sudden urge to look up how he could deal with that in the handbook. He hoped it involved pruning shears.
With a scowl, Davy scooped the ice cream and peanut butter to make the shake. He knew Gavin watched him the whole time and could feel his ears burning. Of course Gavin looked pleased with himself when Davy handed him the shake red-faced and fidgeting. He laid down more cash on the counter. âKeep the change.â
Davy looked at him defiantly. âThatâs ridiculous, Gavin.â
âSee! I knew you remembered!â Gavin looked as though heâd won a prize. Damn him for being adorable when he was excited. And smug. Who made smug look cute? Apparently Gavin. Davy blamed it on that button nose and the dimples. Bastard. Gavin picked up one of the to-go menus they kept on the counter and a pen from beside the cash register, then jotted down his phone number for the millionth time. When he slid it across the counter toward Davy, they locked gazes and Davy had to force himself to look away. Gavin chuckled. âUse it.â
âHave a good afternoon,â Davy said, using his most annoyed tone, which just got another chuckle from Gavin. Oh yeah. Gavinâs figured that trick out already.
âSee you next time, Davy.â Gavinâs voiced dripped sex. Davy refused to look at him, wiping the counter viciously though there wasnât a smudge on it. The bastard had the nerve to chuckle all the way out the store. When the door closed behind Gavin, Davy let out an exasperated grunt and smacked his hand on the counter. At least he had avoided a panic attack. He looked over at the to-go menu with the phone number and Gavin Walker written on it. Davy was always surprised at how neat Gavinâs penmanship was. That didnât stop him from wadding up the paper and throwing it in the trash before removing the liner to take to the dumpster.
The Demon Inside by Rick R Reed
But there was someone. A very handsome, strapping someone who was staring down at him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. The man was about Hunter's own age but tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders, curly, unkempt blond hair, a full beard, and the most piercing blue eyes Hunter had ever seen.
"Are you okay?"
The guy squatted down next to him. Hunter smelled wood smoke.
Hunter tried to stand, but his legs failed him. The day, so far, had been too much. He fell back on his ass and smiled at the guy, realizing he must look every bit the lunatic he worried he was.
"What happened?" The guy's gaze drifted toward Hunter's hand, still buried in the snow.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
"I pulled a pan off the stove without a hot pad is all." Hunter found the coordination to stand, brushing wet snow off his ass. What was this guy doing in his backyard, anyway? "And you are?"
"I'm sorry. My name's Michael Burt. I work on the Beasley place next door. Caretaker, general handyman, and jack-of-everything-else." He nodded back toward a place behind Beaumont House, and Hunter suddenly remembered the little cottage he had seen on his first visit.
Hunter didn't know if he was up for making chitchat with a neighbor, not after all that had gone on today. And what had gone on, anyway? He looked at Michael Burt, wanting to speak, but the facility for language seemed to have momentarily deserted him.
Michael smiled, giving Hunter a glimpse of perfect white teeth with a tiny gap between the front two. This little bit of imperfection only served to make the man better looking. He furrowed his brows. "Is something wrong? You look like -- well, you should pardon the cliché -- you look like you've seen a ghost."
Hunter wondered if he should tell Michael about his day so far. Would he think him insane? Or better yet, was the perpetrator of his sparkling clean and ordered house standing right before him, maybe amused by Hunter's discomfort and fear? He hoped not. He had run away from people doing bad things to him. It would be just his luck if he'd only run to a place where worse things were done. But if Michael Burt hadn't unpacked for him, who had?
The thought of a human perpetrator was much more comforting, really, than the alternative.
Hunter found his voice. "I just moved in." He cocked his head. "And the oddest thing happened when I got up today."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I had all this unpacking to do and furniture to place, but when I came downstairs, it had already been done for me. Isn't that weird?" Hunter forced Michael's gaze to meet his own. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"What do you mean? What would I know? I just saw you moving in yesterday. Today I was out back and saw you come outside. Thought I'd come over and introduce myself."
"You didn't have anything to do with it? Really?" Hunter felt his heart begin to beat a little faster. He realized he wanted Michael Burt to laugh and put his hands up in a gesture of surrender and say something like "You got me" or "We have some strange customs up here in Wisconsin."
But he didn't. "Um ... no. I wouldn't presume to go inside your house without an invitation. And as much as I'd like to welcome you to the 'hood, such as it is, I really don't have the time to do what you described. I've been on the phone and the computer most of the morning, taking care of some medical bills for Mr. Beasley. I just came out for a smoke -- I know, filthy habit -- when I saw you."
If Michael Burt was lying, he was a damn good actor. And Hunter couldn't really press the man, but what other explanation could there be?
"Of course it wasn't you." Hunter peered back into the kitchen and saw a haze of smoke still hanging near the ceiling. "I've never had this happen before, but maybe I did it all in my sleep. I've read about such things happening."
"Very weird. Are you sure you're okay? Would you like me to come in and have a look around?"
"Are you okay?"
The guy squatted down next to him. Hunter smelled wood smoke.
Hunter tried to stand, but his legs failed him. The day, so far, had been too much. He fell back on his ass and smiled at the guy, realizing he must look every bit the lunatic he worried he was.
"What happened?" The guy's gaze drifted toward Hunter's hand, still buried in the snow.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
"I pulled a pan off the stove without a hot pad is all." Hunter found the coordination to stand, brushing wet snow off his ass. What was this guy doing in his backyard, anyway? "And you are?"
"I'm sorry. My name's Michael Burt. I work on the Beasley place next door. Caretaker, general handyman, and jack-of-everything-else." He nodded back toward a place behind Beaumont House, and Hunter suddenly remembered the little cottage he had seen on his first visit.
Hunter didn't know if he was up for making chitchat with a neighbor, not after all that had gone on today. And what had gone on, anyway? He looked at Michael Burt, wanting to speak, but the facility for language seemed to have momentarily deserted him.
Michael smiled, giving Hunter a glimpse of perfect white teeth with a tiny gap between the front two. This little bit of imperfection only served to make the man better looking. He furrowed his brows. "Is something wrong? You look like -- well, you should pardon the cliché -- you look like you've seen a ghost."
Hunter wondered if he should tell Michael about his day so far. Would he think him insane? Or better yet, was the perpetrator of his sparkling clean and ordered house standing right before him, maybe amused by Hunter's discomfort and fear? He hoped not. He had run away from people doing bad things to him. It would be just his luck if he'd only run to a place where worse things were done. But if Michael Burt hadn't unpacked for him, who had?
The thought of a human perpetrator was much more comforting, really, than the alternative.
Hunter found his voice. "I just moved in." He cocked his head. "And the oddest thing happened when I got up today."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I had all this unpacking to do and furniture to place, but when I came downstairs, it had already been done for me. Isn't that weird?" Hunter forced Michael's gaze to meet his own. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"What do you mean? What would I know? I just saw you moving in yesterday. Today I was out back and saw you come outside. Thought I'd come over and introduce myself."
"You didn't have anything to do with it? Really?" Hunter felt his heart begin to beat a little faster. He realized he wanted Michael Burt to laugh and put his hands up in a gesture of surrender and say something like "You got me" or "We have some strange customs up here in Wisconsin."
But he didn't. "Um ... no. I wouldn't presume to go inside your house without an invitation. And as much as I'd like to welcome you to the 'hood, such as it is, I really don't have the time to do what you described. I've been on the phone and the computer most of the morning, taking care of some medical bills for Mr. Beasley. I just came out for a smoke -- I know, filthy habit -- when I saw you."
If Michael Burt was lying, he was a damn good actor. And Hunter couldn't really press the man, but what other explanation could there be?
"Of course it wasn't you." Hunter peered back into the kitchen and saw a haze of smoke still hanging near the ceiling. "I've never had this happen before, but maybe I did it all in my sleep. I've read about such things happening."
"Very weird. Are you sure you're okay? Would you like me to come in and have a look around?"
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
When she's not writing you can find her blogging away on Diverse Reader, her review and promotional site. She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she'd tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you're afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
EM Denning
E. M. Denning is a writer from British Columbia. She loves her family and animals, and anything cute and fuzzy. She writes romance for the 18+ plus crowd because she's both a hopeless romantic and a dirty old woman.
You can find her on her website, Facebook or on her blog.
Felice Stevens has always been a romantic at heart. She believes that while life is tough, there is always a happy ending around the corner. Her characters have to work for it, because just like life in NYC, nothing comes easy and that includes love.
Felice is the 2020 Lambda Literary Award winning author in best Gay Romance. She lives in New York City and has way too much black in her wardrobe. If she's not writing, you'll probably find her watching reality TV or procrastinating on FB in her reader group, Felice's Breakfast Club.
Kade Boehme is a southern boy without the charm, but all the sass. A long time New Yorker, heâs now exploring life in the desert of Tucson. He still lives off of ramen noodles and too much booze.
Most of his free time is spent dancing, arguing with his cat, debating politics, or with his nose in a book. He is also a hardcore Britney Spears fangirl with an addiction to glitter.
It was after writing a short story about boys who loved each other for a less than reputable adult website that he found his true calling, and hopefully a bit more class. He hopes to write about all the romance that he personally finds himself allergic to but that others can fall in love with. He maintains that life is real and the stories should be, as well.
Rick R Reed
Real Men. True Love.
Rick R. Reed draws inspiration from the lives of gay men to craft stories that quicken the heartbeat, engage emotions, and keep the pages turning. Although he dabbles in horror, dark suspense, and comedy, his attention always returns to the power of love. Heâs the award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction and is forever at work on yet another book. Lambda Literary has called him: âA writer that doesnât disappointâŠâ You can find him at his website or blog. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA with his beloved husband and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix.
Real Men. True Love.
Rick R. Reed draws inspiration from the lives of gay men to craft stories that quicken the heartbeat, engage emotions, and keep the pages turning. Although he dabbles in horror, dark suspense, and comedy, his attention always returns to the power of love. Heâs the award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction and is forever at work on yet another book. Lambda Literary has called him: âA writer that doesnât disappointâŠâ You can find him at his website or blog. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA with his beloved husband and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix.
Davidson King
EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com
EM Denning
EMAIL: emdenningauthor@gmail.com
Felice Stevens
EMAIL: felice@felicestevens.com
Kade Boehme
EMAIL: kadeboehmewrites@gmail.com
Rick R Reed
EMAIL: rickrreedbooks@gmail.com
You're the One by Davidson King
The Sweetest Thing by EM Denning
Memories of the Heart by Felice Stevens
B&N / iTUNES / iTUNES AUDIO
KOBO / AUDIBLE / GOOGLE PLAY
Trouble and the Wallflower by Kade Boehme
A Demon Inside by Rick R Reed
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