Matesummer Monday: Lucian and JD (The long wait for a mate is over)

 

Stretching out a leg, Lucien winced at the pins and needles that rushed up and down it. The ears on his bunny slippers bounced as he wiggled his toes, his Brooks grinning at him when he’d first come down the stairs wearing them.

You’re adorable.

Not immature, or ridiculous. All things his grandfather would have called him if he’d seen them, which was why he’d never owned a pair before. He’d purchased them two days after his grandfather left, along with a pair of tye-died stuffed bunnies for the twins Zane was carrying.

His grand-pups, if the bond between him, Brooks and JD were truly to be cemented. Already there were more lines and more colors on both his wrists, bright silver star patterns on the one that meshed with JD, while the pattern he had from Brooks shimmered like golden glitter. He’d expected moving in to feel awkward, after all, Brooks kept odd hours depending on when council business was being held, while JD had spent his days up until then, helping to set up the garage, along side the bulk of the MC.

Now, he was rearranging the office, making more space for them to focus on their task. Every now and again, he’d glance over at Lucien and smile, as he carried more books out. The shelves were being moved to what had been a formal sitting room, one out of place with who Brooks was, but had been necessary for council business.

I’ve got chambers for a reason. The house is for us now.  

They all knew it might be temporary. That any rearranging JD did would have to be undone and packed up if Brooks couldn’t sway the council to at the very least, extend Lucien’s ability to remain on pack lands. Lucien was quickly coming to learn that Brooks always had a contingency plan and was looking at land to purchase outside of pack boundaries, and log cabin blueprints so they could get a basic shelter over their heads before winter if the worse would occur.

A quick glance at the clock showed it was a quarter until two, damn. Half a day wasted and no fresh clues.

“Ready to take a break?” JD asked as he picked up the empty bookshelf and walked off with it, revealing another patch of wall. Brooks had already brought home a huge dry erase board in addition to several corkboard that, from the looks of things, would be up before the end of the day.

“I think I could use some, and maybe a fresh set of eyes if you wouldn’t mind sitting with me while our food settles,” Lucien offered.

“I’d like that,” JD replied. “Give me a few minutes to set this down and I’ll pull something together for us.”

Since the kitchen had never been a place Lucien was fond of, he was more than happy to let JD come up with something, the wolf calling him to the kitchen twenty minutes later, savory, tantalizing scents assailing Lucien’s nose the moment he headed up the hall.

“I was expecting a sandwich or something, damn, how the hell did you pull this together so fast?” Lucien asked as he sat at the place JD had set for him.

“It’s all about timing. Pan searing the steaks first, then quickly sautéing the yellow squash and zucchini in one pan while the scallops cook in the pan drippings from the steaks. I can do it all over a campfire in one pan but saw no reason not to take advantage of this amazing six burner stove.”

“It smells delicious.”

“Thanks.”

Sitting across from his mate, Lucien took the opportunity to study him in between each bite. It dawned on him then that he didn’t know how old JD was, or much about him beyond his family name and where he came from.

His skin was like frost, hair as shimmering as stars on snow. It was like looking at an ice sculpture, only JD was warm, as Lucien had found out each time he’d tugged the unsuspecting wolf against his chest. Each time, he looked confused, scanning the room like he was expecting there to be some danger Lucien was pulling him out of the way of. Clearly, his time among the MC had him primed for danger and little else. The wolf kept his face hairless, unlike Brooks who sported a close cut, neatly trimmed beard and mustache. It really was like looking at the sun and moon to see them together, though it did make Lucien wonder what that made him.

“Oh yummmm,” Lucien remarked as the surf and turf melted on his tongue, so soft and juicy. He might have questions, but he sure as hell was saving them until after he’d eaten because swallowing that first taste was like a light switch to his wolf who snarled and demanded to be fed.  

Across the table, JD chuckled, smugly casting him a look that Lucien took to mean he was quite proud of himself.

“I didn’t realize I was so hungry,” Lucien remarked, letting out a belch that made his cheeks heat up.

“Can I ask a question I maybe shoulda asked a couple days ago?” JD said, a hint of hesitance reflected in his tone.

“Of course.”

“Do you prefer Lucien or Lucille?”

Shit. He shoulda known one of them would ask eventually. Sitting there, mouth half hanging open, the only thing he could think to do was shove another bite of food between his lips while he worked out an answer.

“Depends. Do you prefer Jake or JD?”

“JD, but, it isn’t the same. They’re my initials. I don’t want to call you something you don’t want to be called.”

“What if there are times when I want you to use one over the other?” Lucien asked pointblank, never breaking eye contact.

“Then you tell me when those times are until I know how to spot them myself.”

Blinking. Lucien felt a rush of warmth flood him, something JD seemed to cause without effort.

“I want to know you,” JD said. “Everything there is to know. I want the ability to make you happy, and if that means that there are signs and clues I need to learn so that I can give you everything you need from me, then I’m willing to learn them.”

Read the first chapter of swamp wolf here!

Rainbow Snippet 12/18/2

  Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).

In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.

I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  

This weeks Rainbow Snippet comes from Swamp Wolf, the fifth book in the Comet Lake Chronicles. 

“And you wonder why I’m over here feeling like a train wreck.” Lucien said. “I won’t be the reason you lose your pack and your family.”

“No, you won’t. They will.” Made him growl just thinking about the way they’d chosen to do all of this without even a heads up, then expected him to be do with it.

“You don’t know how to relax, do you?”

“How am I supposed to….” Brooks growled.

“Like this!” Lucien snarled, shoving him back against the couch and surging over top of him, kisses aggressive, demanding and hot as fuck, chasing the thoughts from Brooks’ mind until there was nothing left but promises of things to come.

Book one of the Comet Lake Chronicles, Waiting for Raine can be found here!

A sneak peek at book 2 can be found here!

Throwback Thursday: The Art of Displacing Nero

 

“Early Night?” Vance asked, trying to keep his gaze on Nero’s chartreuse eyes rather than the drops of water sliding down his chest, disappearing into the treasure trail half hidden by a second towel. One would think that after two years of watching Nero wander around the apartment half-naked he’d finally be unaffected by the sight, but so far, nothing regarding Nero had gone according to plan.

“Yeah, I switched shifts with Tucker, he needed to stay late at school for an exam, so…yeah. I don’t envy the guy. I wouldn’t want to spend three hours answering essay questions on Willa Cather and her works, then have to go strip for a room full of horny drunks who think the essays in the nudy magazines are literature.”

Snickering, Vance covered his mouth, willing himself not to laugh, it sounded like a donkey braying, and he hated it, especially when it happened in front of Nero.

“I’d much rather a beer and a hottie stripping for me, at least then the night would be worth something,” Nero remarked.

“I’m sure the value is in the grade, provided he gets a good one.”

“He’s wicked smart, I’m sure he did fine,” Nero said. “He was all hyped on Monday when he came in ‘cause his professor had given him an ‘A’ on the essay he’d written about the influence of Dionysianism on modern music culture.”

“Yeah, you lost me at Dionysianism,” Vance muttered.

Snickering, Nero burst into a riot of musical laughter, clasping Vance on the shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I told him the same thing. Should have kept my mouth shut, he spent the next ten minutes explaining Dionysis to me and drunken, celebratory orgies.”

Instead of removing his hand, he let it linger, gently massaging the muscle until Vance let out a shaky groan.

“Someone’s tense,” Nero commented pressing his fingers a little deeper into Vance’s flesh.

Damn, that felt good.

“More like someone spent most of their shift chopping veggies and stirring pots.”

“Thought you got promoted to sous chef? Don’t you have someone who’s supposed to do the prepping for you?”

“Danial called out sick, pretty convenient considering Black Label Society is playing at The Garden tonight and he’s a huge fan. I swear if I find out he cut work to go see them he’ll spend the next three shifts doing all the prep work for the Coq au Vins and Paellas.”

“Yeah, um, remember what you said about Dionysianism?”

Vance snorted. “Coq au Vin is…”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Nero interrupted. “When will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?”

Available on Amazon

Warrior Wednesday: Where Dez is feeling a bit protective of Riley

“So, there’s nothing else you’ve ever wanted to do.”

“Professionally, not really.”

“That’s not exactly a yes or no.”

“It’s more like an apathetic indifference to just about everything else I’ve ever attempted. I mean, I guess if someone came along and said I could never play music again or have anything to do with the music industry, now go out and make a living, I’d try my hand at carpentry. At least then I’d still be creating something. What about you, what would you be doing?”

“Professional alcohol taster, ‘cause if I had to walk away from music the only way to survive it would be drunk off my ass and oblivious to every moment of it.”

Like he wasn’t oblivious enough as it was, at least, to most everything around him that wasn’t Dez. He felt the impact of his body hitting another body a second before Dez reached out to steady him.

“Why don’t you watch where the fuck you’re going,” the other guy snarled, his voice jarring Riley straight out of the pleasant mood he’d been in.

“Joy.”

“I heard you guys were going to try and play this, but I was hoping you’d come to your senses and back out before you embarrassed yourselves more.”

“Piss off Wade,” Riley snarled, moving to sidestep him.

“You never could handle me speaking truth to you, could you?”

“Truth I can deal with just fine. It’s you being an ass I can do without.”

“One would think you’d want to know how you weren’t cutting it so you could work on making improvements instead of excuses.”

“What I would like to work on is a portion of my lifespan in which I never have to talk to you again.”

“I’d expect that out of Damien, even Zakk to some extent, but I thought you’d understand. Too bad it turns out you’re as blind as the rest of them.”

“And what is it that I’m supposedly blind to.”

“How much I put into the band. How many proposals I made and set designs I came up with. Who thought up the pyro and video package for that last tour? Who worked with the artist to revamp the logo and work out the designs for the last batch of t-shirts. Who…”

“We all poured our hearts into the band, Wade, the difference was, the rest of us were willing to continue sharing in our success equally, while you suddenly got it in your head to demand more than what you were entitled to.”

“I was entitled to be compensated for all the time, effort and creative energy I was putting into creating something unique and different for us, even if the rest of you refused to acknowledge it for what it was. Brilliant.”

“You had your opinion, we had ours. In your mind it was brilliant, in ours it was disjoined shit.”

“Not my fault you have no vision.”

“Whatever. You’re on your own now, so create what the hell ever you want to, no one has a single fuck left to give you. You got what you wanted, so what’s the point in standing around harping about how we didn’t let you have your way.”

Eyes narrowing, Wade turned his attention from Riley to Dez, eyeing their big man up and down with that smirking scowl of his. “Be careful you don’t step too far out of the box they wanna pigeonhole you into. It gets impossibly constricting really fucking quick, trust me on that.”

“There’s a big difference between you and me, Wade.” Dez shot back, taking enough of a step to put himself directly between Wade and Riley. “I actually enjoy the style of music that we play. In fact, I excel at performing it. Writing new pieces of it too. It’s not their fault you struggled to do that. In fact, it seems to me like you might have done them a favor in quitting. That way they could find someone who enjoys the creative high of a team project, unlike some people, who only seem to get pleasure out of jerking off.”

Without another word, Dez shouldered past Wade, his fingers entangling with Riley’s as he did, which meant Riley was tugged along too, a swirl of emotions running through his mind making it difficult to focus so maybe it was a good thing he had Dez to guide him through the crowd.

“Don’t waste your time thinking about anything he just said.”

“Hard not to.”

Dez stopped so abruptly that when Riley kept walking he ended up feeling a sharp tug on his arm before being yanked back against Dez’s chest. His much bigger bandmate crowded him against a nearby light post and kissed him breathless.

“Look at me.”

Apparently, Riley didn’t lift his head fast enough because Dez slipped a hand beneath his chin and raised it that way.

“You wanna get lost thinking about something, get lost thinking about me. Get lost thinking about this band and what we’re going to do tomorrow. Get lost thinking about the album we’re going to record in a few months and the tour Damien has been drawing up. Get lost imagining all the places we’re going to see. The downtime when you and I can slip away and explore each other and anything else we want to see. Focus on the coming winter and some pickup games of hockey. Think about Christmas and snowboarding. You promised me a tour of your cabin in the mountains and I have been looking forward to seeing all those evergreens and the fireplace you claim even I can stand upright in. Don’t waste a millisecond more of your time on that piece of shit. Anyone who’d treat someone the way he’s treated you guys was never a friend in the first place.”

Read the first chapter here!

Available on Amazon and KU!

Tantalizing Tuesday: Vance and Nero, a little after shower conversation

 

“Early Night?” Vance asked, trying to keep his gaze on Nero’s chartreuse eyes rather than the drops of water sliding down his chest, disappearing into the treasure trail half hidden by a second towel. One would think that after two years of watching Nero wander around the apartment half-naked he’d finally be unaffected by the sight, but so far, nothing regarding Nero had gone according to plan.

“Yeah, I switched shifts with Tucker, he needed to stay late at school for an exam, so…yeah. I don’t envy the guy. I wouldn’t want to spend three hours answering essay questions on Willa Cather and her works, then have to go strip for a room full of horny drunks who think the essays in the nudy magazines are literature.”

Snickering, Vance covered his mouth, willing himself not to laugh, it sounded like a donkey braying, and he hated it, especially when it happened in front of Nero.

“I’d much rather a beer and a hottie stripping for me, at least then the night would be worth something,” Nero remarked.

“I’m sure the value is in the grade, provided he gets a good one.”

“He’s wicked smart, I’m sure he did fine,” Nero said. “He was all hyped on Monday when he came in ‘cause his professor had given him an ‘A’ on the essay he’d written about the influence of Dionysianism on modern music culture.”

“Yeah, you lost me at Dionysianism,” Vance muttered.

Snickering, Nero burst into a riot of musical laughter, clasping Vance on the shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I told him the same thing. Should have kept my mouth shut, he spent the next ten minutes explaining Dionysis to me and drunken, celebratory orgies.”

Instead of removing his hand, he let it linger, gently massaging the muscle until Vance let out a shaky groan.

“Someone’s tense,” Nero commented pressing his fingers a little deeper into Vance’s flesh.

Damn, that felt good.

“More like someone spent most of their shift chopping veggies and stirring pots.”

“Thought you got promoted to sous chef? Don’t you have someone who’s supposed to do the prepping for you?”

“Danial called out sick, pretty convenient considering Black Label Society is playing at The Garden tonight and he’s a huge fan. I swear if I find out he cut work to go see them he’ll spend the next three shifts doing all the prep work for the Coq au Vins and Paellas.”

“Yeah, um, remember what you said about Dionysianism?”

Vance snorted. “Coq au Vin is…”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Nero interrupted. “When will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?”

The Art of Displacing Nero, available on Amazon. 

Matesummer Monday: Introducing Baz, Charlie and Kale

 

“The fuck do you want?”

Seeing hatred in the eyes of his mate was something Baz had grown used to from Charlie over the years, but today it was harder somehow, or maybe it was the fact that he didn’t have his vest on to buffer him from it.

Karma. The fates. Who knew what entities orchestrated the swirling black and gray bond marks that had appeared upon his wrist almost eighteen years ago, he just wish they’d chosen better. That or made him a better wolf, to actually be deserving of the mates they’d given him.

“Five minutes of your time and a conversation,” Baz replied, feeling none too hopeful his request would be granted.

Instead of opening the door for him, Charlie’s shrewd eyes appraised him thoroughly. “Where’s your Kutte?”

“Burnt up in a bonfire last night.”

“Shame you weren’t in it when it happened.”

“Who says I wasn’t?”

“You’re looking awful good for a crispy critter?”

“That you saying I still look good?”

“Compared to a charred bag of bones, maybe. If a wolf was desperate enough, they might decide you were worth a night of fun.”

“Any chance you’re that desperate?”

“Not a one.”

“Damn,” Baz remarked, disappointment hammering down at him, despite having expected the answer. The whole moment felt surprisingly out of place like time had spun backward, hurling them through time to a moment when there had been friendship between them.

“You gonna tell me why you’re here, or waste some more of my morning?

“Can I get a cup of coffee while we have this conversation?”

“Nope, would take more than five minutes for it to brew, and you’ve burned two minutes already.”

Throwing up his hands, Baz considered just walking away, only, he had three minutes left to stare at the wolf he’d spent over a decade missing and mourning, drowning in regret over the things he desperately wanted to say and didn’t dare.

Brooks had called him a coward when all these years Baz had believed it a noble, honorable thing he did, trying to preserve a relationship that had always been important to Charlie, even at the cost of something Baz had desperately wanted, despite how many times he denied it.

Good intentions will kill ya.

Hadn’t Charlie told him that when they were pups and hadn’t Baz laughed, still too optimistic to realize that some wolves could practically kill themselves trying and still fail as spectacularly as a matchstick in a downpour?

“And now you’ve burned three,” Charlie griped, letting the door bang shut behind him, no doubt to keep any more of his cold air from spilling out the door and air conditioning the forest. “You plan to keep staring at me and waste the other two or tell me why the fuck you’re over here so god damned early in the day.

“How’s Kale?” Baz blurted because that could be considered a natural topic and one he was genuinely interested in.

“Same as he was when you called yesterday,” Charlie replied. “If something were wrong, I’d text you.”

“I um, got him a phone, in case he ever wanted to talk,” Baz replied, pulling it from the pocket of his jeans and holding it out, not that Charlie took it.

“Already took care of that, weeks ago, when I brought him here. Thought you trusted me to keep him safe? Wasn’t that the whole point of me bringing him out here?” Charlie replied, checking his watch. “You’re going to be late.”

“Shops closed for the day.”

“Why the fuck is it closed, it ain’t a holiday and there are orders to take care of. you know that,” Charlie snapped.

“And I will get them done,” Baz huffed. “Just didn’t need the music, noise and constant god damned conversations today, so I told the other three not to come in.”

“What part of structure and responsibility do you not understand,” Charlie growled, “These wolves are assigned there because they need guidance, supervision and purpose. I will not have you fucking up the whole program with some selfish whim.”

“First of all, let’s get something straight right now. I take my responsibilities seriously, even those that are thrust on me by someone wanting to hold shit over my head so they can make me squirm. Niko has been using the skills he’s learned in the shed to revamp some things over at his grandparents’ place and Sierra offered to help him, so that’s what they’re doing today. I made sure they had supplies and I told them that if they got stuck they could take a picture of the problem and send it to me, or you and we’d talk them through it.”

“And you were going to tell me this when, exactly?” Charlie asked, his impatience showing, as it always did whenever they spoke. “When I was staring at a message trying to figure out what the fuck it was about?”

“I’m here, we’re talking, that was all part of why I dropped in, and to say that as of midnight, Cage is the new president of the Howling Devils, may the fates have mercy on his soul.”

Snorting, Charlie shook his head. “And what exactly is the response you were hoping for?”

Shrugging, Baz met his gaze, the brilliant colors always hitting him like he was seeing them the first time, mesmerizing. Should have stayed in that moment and never moved. Maybe then everything wouldn’t be so broken and fucked all to hell.

“Hell if I know,” Baz rumbled, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Everything was off-kilter, slipping sideways and drifting into that surreal realm he’d found himself dropping into ever since he’d made the decision not to keep his kutte after he stepped down as president.

“Well, good thing that’s settled, then. You can be going now, and make sure you don’t leave a fuckin’ mess for me to clean up when I get back there,” Charlie remarked, turning away.

“Someday, I hope we can have a conversation the way we used to,” Baz said, voice low and as controlled as he could manage, which wasn’t easy when he wanted to snap and snarl, howl, growl and demand Charlie put the past aside for one day, one fuckin’ day.

“You should know better than that by now. If I was going to forgive you, it would have been back then, when I still believed you were looking for the bastard who really assaulted those wolves, not letting them pin the whole damn thing on me.”

Huffing, all Baz could do was stand there with his fists clenched, hating that every attempt at conversation between them someone came back to this one point of contention.

“I think you’ve always known who was responsible, but it was easier to let me take the fall than test club loyalties by bringing the real perpetrator to justice,” Charlie said. “After all, I was just a prospect. A throwaway. Someone on the fringe you could cut ties with and not have to suffer any consequences.”

There was a moment when everything froze, and Baz opened his mouth to admit the truth. That he had known, that he did know, and had suffered every day since that information had wound up in his hands. Why someone else couldn’t have been made privy to it, like Brooks, who would have known how to handle things differently, he’d never understand. That had been all fate, like the split vote that had left him president when the goddess knew he was the wrong person for the job.

“I thought so,” Charlie remarked over his shoulder, their eyes meeting again, the hate in Charlie’s as bright as ever, right before he disappeared back inside. Baz was two blocks away when it dawned on him that he’d never said what he’d gone to Charlie’s to say.

Another missed opportunity in a string so numerous it was embarrassing to think about. Lately, there were very few positive things to speak of, at least not in his life, where the banner accomplishment was the discovery that it hadn’t been a member of the Howling Devils that had been working with the traffickers, but rather, someone hell-bent on destroying them from the inside out.

Sins and secrets.

Grudges and revenge.

The Devils might have been all about protecting pack, but they’d stomped on more than a few paws doing it, and some hadn’t been justified, despite what they’d told themselves. 

You can find Book 1, Waiting for Raine here!

Book two, Howl Down the Moon, will be released in January, but the first chapter can be read here!

Sleepy Sunday Cinema

 Welcome to the third sleepy Sunday Cinema, featuring Sweet Home Alabama, one of my favorite romantic comedies and second chance romances. The whole concept of going home again, even if only temporary, is one I love to play with in my own writing. In this case, Mel going home to get divorce papers signed after she was already engaged to another person, great setup, but the argument, and subsequent slapstick comedy of her first run-in with her husband when she goes to get her divorce papers signed, was seriously on point. I loved the whole slam the door, shade rolling up, yank the shade down, shade rolling up again, shade falling back down, shade giving him one hell of a time until he ended up wadding it up in frustration. That really set the tone for the comedy part of the movie. 

"If you two are still married it's her house too." -Small town sheriff (Sweet Home Alabama)

Trying to rat each other out to the cop, getting Mel locked up for dumping a tractor in a fish pond, the misadventures of a well-spent youth hurled back and forth with one another showed the chemistry that was still there. I don't think chemistry like that ever dies completely. 

Daddy in the old pickup coming to get her from jail, the look he and her mom gave one another, like oh boy, what did she do now, rather than holy shit shock that she wound up there in the first place, just helped establish who Mel was before she left home, and how much of herself she's tried to bury to fit into the New York City fashion world. 

See, now, this is why I'm not in a hurry to get back to Colorado.

Well, hi Bellamy, not sure this is the right movie for you, but okay. 

Meh, it appeals to the secret snob in me. 

Really? Now that I didn't know about you, you hide it well. 

Just never wanted my folks or my club to know that a part of me wishes I'd been born into a different lifestyle. 

You're always free to leave. In fact, isn't that how you got to North Carolina in the first place.

A mistake I can't regret, seeing as how it's landed me Wreck and Cody. Damn, she fucked around and redecorated his whole house, holy shit. 

I know, right, but it almost got his name on the paper.

Don't know if I could handle the way they try to outdo one another when it came to being damned irritating. I'd lose my shit trying to deal with that. 

See, now I love it. I get the feeling it's the sort of thing Wreck's into too. Look at the way he is with Cody, pretty sure that's a big part of the dance they've been doing these past few years. 

Then I'll leave that to them. There are far more interesting dances I'd rather being doing with them both. 

Speaking of dances...

"No dancing on the table with spurs." - Sign in the bar (Sweet Home Alabama)

You know someone had to pull that shit for there to be a sign about it. 

What I want to know is what kind of dance they were doing to warrant that, and how little clothing was involved. Then I was to see if Cody can duplicate it, preferably on the pool table in the rec room. 

You guys scratch up that table and Mark might reupholster it with your hides. 

I believe the proper term is refelting. 

You're right, you do have snobbish tendencies. 

Just wait until you see me order at the bar. 

Guess it's a good thing you spend the bulk of your time behind it. 

There is some truth to that. 

"People need a passport to come down here." -Mel (Sweet Home Alabama)

You know that turning point in a movie, where the characters start to see each other in a different light, that's where it feels like the tone of it moves from comedy to romance. 

It's that way in life too. I was all set to walk away from Cody when it hit me that I'd be missing out on something amazing if I did. Even when he was being an utter and complete brat, there was this appeal, this fire that challenged me to allow myself to get burned. 

Isn't that how love is supposed to be?

"The girl I knew used to be fearless." -Jake (Sweet Home Alabama)

Once upon a time, I was fearless too. 

What happened?

Wish I knew. 

I feel ya. I used to think I was untouchable. Talk about a kick in the nuts, driving fifteen hundred miles for a catfish. Ya know, everyone needs a grandpa like the one firing off those anvils, holy shit, that was pretty epic. I think I'd shit myself if I accidentally wandered into the middle of the target zone like Mel did though. 

You and me both. 

The past hits us all a little differently. The places we've been get colored by the place we are and the places we want to go. The ocean doesn't make my love of the mountains any dimmer, but it does give me a better perspective of how big the world is and how small we are in comparison. Loss colors things too. Age. A kiss can change the shade of everything, but the same can be said for a punch in the mouth. 

"You are just like your father, one minute you're brilliant, controlled, steadfast, the next you're throwing it all away on some young piece of ass." -Fiance's mom (Sweet Home Alabama)

Reminds me of my uncle. There's not a god damned thing he can't do with an engine, but he's on wife number seven, two of them Vegas weddings, Elvis impersonator for the official and everything. 

That's a bit much, I guess, I mean, if it works for him, then more power to him. Who are we to judge. 

Personally, I think he's in love with the lightning, rather than the whole storm. Me, I love the way the clouds gather and blot out the sun. The roll of the thunder, lazy sometimes, like morning sex, wild others, when you can't even wait to get the door closed before your ripping someone's clothes off. I'd love to know if it's a real thing, the glass when the lightning hits the sand, because that is something to cherish, something solid, something only nature can create. Something like....Cody. 

I couldn't have said it better, Bellamy. Guess this movie really did speak to you after all. 

Yeah, I guess it did. 

Claiming Cody, the follow up to Burning Luck, coming April 2022 from Encompass Ink. 

 

Rainbow Snippet: In the interest of fairness w/ Cody, Bellamy and Wreck

 Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).

In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.

I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  

Today's Snippet comes from Claiming Cody, a follow-up to Burning Luck and the second of the Rolling Jokers MC novels.

“Not….fair…” Cody huffed.

“Want me to stop?”

“Like that’s a fair question,” Cody grumbled, closing his eyes and letting out a puff of air.

“He keeps coming back to this concept of fairness,” Bellamy said.

“Yet his missing one very important part,” Wreck joined in.

“Yeah…” Cody grunted, exhaling as he nailed the cue ball with the pint of the stick. “What’s that.”

“Who defines what’s fair,” they both remarked as the balls spread and the eight spun free and kept on spinning, in place, while the rest of the balls flowed out on the table around it. 

And if interested the first chapter of book one of the Rollin' Jokers series, Burning Luck can be found here!

Flirtatious Friday: At the observatory with Dare and Sionn of Desolation Angel

 

SIONN AND DARE had spent dinner laughing and joking about some of the people who’d come into Sionn’s studio earlier in the day. Particularly a harried-looking lady with her three kids, whom she’d wanted posed with stuffed reindeer for her Christmas cards. According to Sionn, the eldest boy kept pulling the bows from his sister’s hair, while the youngest kept biting the eldest for trying to hold him in place. The woman had lost her temper and yelled at the kids, who had started crying and pitching fits, quickly eating up all her scheduled time. When Sionn had politely pointed out that he had people waiting for their appointments, she’d gotten upset and told him she’d never come back there for pictures again.

“And a Merry Christmas ta me is what I was saying as she headed out the door, the screaming trio in tow.”

Dare laughed. “Oh man, I do not envy you. I think taking pictures would be awesome, but not of people. If I was a photographer, I think I’d have to take pictures of graffiti, or some of the really awesome buildings downtown, and street musicians, and festivals and stuff. Just not people coming in to pose.”

“Some o’ that I wouldn’t mind doing myself. Maybe we should go together. I can teach you ta work the DSLR and the software that goes with it, see what we come up with.”

Dare’s face lit up. “I’d love that.”

“It’s settled then. We’ll head out Sunday mornin’ and see what we find.”

“Awesome. I can’t wait.”

Sionn chuckled, enjoying their first official date. The cheesecake was amazing, better than he’d remembered, but what really blew Sionn away was when Dare took off his scarf and blindfolded him. It was a little disconcerting, walking down city streets without being able to see, but Dare made sure he didn’t run into anything, and in next to no time, Sionn felt a change in the air and knew Dare had guided him into someplace warm. Dare’s hand was steady on his back as he steered Sionn into an elevator, and soon they came to a stop.

“We’re here,” Dare announced, but he was holding both of Sionn’s hands, so Sionn couldn’t reach for the scarf to pull it away.

“Well then, are you gonna let me see where here is?”

Sionn was startled for a second when he felt something soft brush across his lips, until he realized it was Dare, kissing him lightly before taking the scarf away. Sionn’s eyes widened when he saw where they were. The big domed roof, the telescopes, the star maps and detailed charts, graphs, and images—it was almost too much for Sionn to take in at once.

“Dare, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d remember.”

“Of course I remember. I used to love listening to you talk about how the constellations got their names.”

“You always did love my stories.”

“I still do. And I couldn’t think of a better way to spend our first date than staring at the stars with you.”

Sionn was so moved by that simple admission that he pulled Dare close and held him tight, momentarily furious with himself for the way he’d treated Dare for so long. The fury was fleeting, however, chased away by the joy of the moment and the knowledge that he now had a chance to make it right. The two gazed at the stars, arm in arm, basking in each other’s company.

If you enjoyed this snippet you can read the first chapter here!

And if you'd like to find it on Amazon you can find it here!

Throwback Thursday: Gypsy's Rogue

 

“Were you wanting a few of those birds?” a lean man in a blue shirt and overalls asked, as he stepped up to the other side of the pen.

“Yes, please,” Gypsy remarked. “Four actually, a Tom and some hens.”

Picking them up, the man made quick work of sorting out the males from females, before doing a quick count of the remaining birds.

“Tell you what, I’ll throw in a forth hen for free if you’d like her. I’ve got too many hens here at the moment.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” Gypsy replied, as Rogue glanced down at the cage he carried and back at the birds.

“I think we need a bigger cage,” he suggested.

“Least it’s not a bigger boat,” Gypsy shot back, giggling.

“I’ll run back to the truck and get one,” Rogue offered.

“Forget it, you’ll get lost in this place if we leave you to your own devices,” added George. “That or have another unfortunate encounter with a guinea fowl.”

“Nope, only one I’ve had an unfortunate encounter with today has been you.”

“Ha, ha,” remarked George, before heading back in the direction of the truck. By the time he returned, the money for the turkeys had changed hands and Gypsy and Rogue found themselves the new owners of a flock of young turkeys.

“What’s wrong? You look like you just swallowed a lemon?” George asked Gypsy as he set the cage down beside the pen.

“He’s named them.”

“What? Why?”

“To make it easier to call them when we want to feed them,” Rogue admitted.

The man in the overalls snickered but had the good graces to cover it up with a series of coughs, which was more than George and Gypsy managed to do, as the pair howled with laughter, prompting a series of gobbles from the turkeys, who’d fled to the other side of the pen, fortunately, cordoned off from the rest of the flock.

“What?”

“Dude, you don’t name the food.”

Read the first chapter here!

Find on Amazon here!

Rainbow Snippet 12/4/2021: Claiming Cody: No Problems before 10 am

 Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).

In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.

I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  

Today's Snippet comes from Claiming Cody, a follow-up to Burning Luck and the second of the Rolling Jokers MC novels.

“We’ve got a fuckin’ problem,” Mark growled, stepping in the kitchen of Wreck’s house before the coffee was ready.

“No we don’t, isn’t there a standing rule, no problems before ten a.m.?” Wreck muttered.

“Yeah well, tell that to the universe.”

“I will when I’m awake.”

“Shawn broke his ankle at Shenanigans last night, and Taylor got arrested for brawling in the streets with a couple other girls. She’ll be cooling her heels in a cell for thirty days at least.”

“Which puts us down two for tonight’s demo,” Wreck concluded.

“Now you see the problem.”

Flirtatious Friday: Reconnecting with an old flame, Librarian's ex roars back into town on a big machine, and sparks fly

 

Chuckling, Derrick lowered himself gingerly to the ground and got comfortable leaning against a stout tree. “Was glad to see the book group was still up and running.”

“I was glad to see you show up. Shocked you didn’t mention it at the bar.”

“Was too busy getting drunk.”

“Ugg, don’t remind me. That still ranks as one of the top five hangovers I’ve ever had in my life. I can’t believe you weren’t feeling it in the morning, even a little bit.”

“Not even a smidge.”

“You suck.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that when you were moaning into the phone the next morning. Guess you weren’t one for frat parties and the whole drunken college experience.”

“Oh, believe me, I got drunk, plenty of times, but it had been awhile since I’d drank that many. Pretty sure my tolerance has dropped considerably since I hit thirty.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s ancient. Next thing you know we’ll be sitting on a park bench talking about our glory days on the football field and how todays generation doesn’t understand what it’s like to walk to school uphill, both way, in a snowstorm, barefoot, with frost giants chasing them.”

Mason snorted, then busted out laughing, doubling over he laughed so hard.

“No one ever said anything about frost giants,” Mason managed once he could speak again.

“Yeah, well, we’ll need to make it seem more strenuous then previous generations did if we’re going to have any hope of topping their claims, so frost giants it is. Figured I’d stick with the whole winter motif and maybe the young whippersnappers will get the point.”

That just left Mason laughing harder, so Derrick stared off over the falls until he’d found his composure again.

“No one uses the term young whippersnappers anymore, even around here,” Mason pointed out.

“The maybe it’s time for a resurgence.”

Snickering, Mason shook his head. “Either way, when those kids came through the door for story hour Thursday Morning, I popped two Advil and retreated to the second floor. Spent an hour and a half in the reference section making sure everything had been returned to it’s proper place.”

Now it was Derrick’s turn to laugh. “Lightweight.”

“I prefer to keep my faculties about me. Saves on those instances of saying or doing dumb things.”

Now that gave Derrick a moment of pause. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to ask, but Mason had thrown open the door and like a stampeding wildebeest, Derrick decided to plunge right through.

“You mean like telling me you’d loved me and missed me,” he asked, eyes locked with Mason’s.

He watched his former best friend sigh and pick at his nails.

“You heard that, huh?”

“Yeah, kind of fumbled around to get the garage door open and by the time I did, you were gone.”

“Decided to try and burn off some of that alcohol with a jog,” Mason replied. “Figured I’d either pass out on someone’s lawn, puke my guts out in their trash can, or drag myself to my door. Either of the three were better options than having to look you in the eye after saying that.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Just wondering if it was the booze talking or you actually meant it.”

“I meant it, just hadn’t intended to tell you, especially not that way, so can we drop it?” Mason asked, as he scooped up a rock and hurled it over the edge of the falls.

“Only if you let me say something first.”

Growling, Mason hurled another rock, an edge to his voice when next he spoke. “Fine, go ahead.”

“I missed you too. Missed what we shared. You wanted to know why I didn’t write you? Didn’t want you to try and talk me into coming back. Between you and my folks, I knew you’d break me down sooner rather than later. I…”

Sighing, Derrick rubbed the back of his neck.

“If I’d known where you were, I would have gone and gotten you. Fuck letters, I wanted you to look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t want to come back. I wanted you to have to look at me before you left me.”

“If I’d told you, if I’d looked you in the eye and tried to tell you I wouldn’t have gone, and I…”

Again he paused, sucking in a deep breath before continuing on. “…I thought I needed to go. Turned out the reasons I had were wrong. I should have stayed.”

“Yeah, you should have, but, you’re home now, and we’re not kids anymore, we’re too old for bullshit and games. I loved you. A part of me will always love you. I wanted you with me. I wanted us to be together and hell, maybe we’d have fallen apart the same as me and Billy, or maybe we’d have made it. I’d like to think we’d have made it.”

“I loved you too,” Derrick softly admitted. “I didn’t realize it then. Think it took me years and several meaningless hook ups to get it through my head that it was better when there were emotions involved and some kind of basic connection that went further than playing twenty questions online. I’m sorry I ruined what we had.”

Turning, Mason shifted so he was facing him, fingers still toying with the rocks in the dirt.

“Could have just as easily been me who ruined it, who knows what would have happened,” Mason replied.

Another moment when he wavered between the inner voice telling him to shut the fuck up and cut his losses and the sudden urge to ask a question he wasn’t sure he’d like the answer too. Would he ever learn? Oh well, Mason was the one who’d said they were too old for bullshit, so once again, he took the plunge.

“Think it’s too late to try again?”

Read the first chapter here!

Find on Amazon here!