Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Big Surprise—I’m late *g*

I’ve had some technical difficulties, so that’s my excuse. One of them, anyway.

My niece was checking out her facebook today and started laughing. She read this to me and I had to laugh, too. It struck me as universal, no matter the race, creed, or sexual orientation.

Although, when I mentioned it to a friend (straight and proud of it) he asked, “So, if they’re gay, who makes the sandwich?”

I’ve been tugged in a million different directions, but don’t think I’ve been ignoring my beloved Torquere Books. :- ) I’ll give you an excerpt from the story I’m sending them in a day or so. (I know, I know—I say that all the time)

That story has been in the hopper for awhile. It’s been a thing for me lately. I’ve had some deaths in my animal family. That seems to happen every time I pull that particular story out. I refuse to consider that happenstance as anything other than a sad coincidence.

Keep in mind, this hasn’t been through edits yet and could be changed here and there.

So, here you are, the story blurb and the place I left our guys…

Rainy Day Lover
Sometimes a man just needs a break--something for a rainy day. There aren't many rainy days in Denver, though.

Louisiana averages 114 inches of rain each year. What better place to find--or be--a rainy day lover?

1- Je Te Veux

Two men meet on a rainy day. Is it fate? Is it destiny? Or is it just a lucky happenstance?

Everyone needs something special for a rainy day. Their meeting might not save the world, but who knows?

It just might.


The air around them seemed to thicken, punctuated with desire, growing heavy with meaning. Slowly, oh so slowly, as if giving Ebon every opportunity to change his mind, to pull away, Zimi lowered mouth to Ebon's, eyes locked until their lips met.

Zimi's eyelids closed, seemingly of their own volition. Before he knew what was happening, Ebon's own eyes drifted closed, his arms wrapping tightly around his lover, pulling him closer, lips parting, tongues tangling, drinking deeply of one another.


"Bed," Zimi agreed, moving backward and off of Ebon. Once standing, he smirked and turned toward the door, looking over his shoulder long enough seer Ebon with a lascivious, ravenous gaze--a look so fraught with blazing hunger that Ebon couldn't move . Zimi's eyes traveled from the top of the Ebon's still- bed-tousled hair, slowing at his torso, lingering long on the open zipper of his pants--long enough to cause his aching cock to twitch in response. "Bed," he repeated.

When Zimi disappeared through the entry door, Ebon startled, surprised to realize he was still lying on the porch swing. With a great heave, he corrected that oversight, pushing himself off the swing and hot on the other man's heels.

Upon reaching the bedroom, he found no sign of Zimi . He wondered where the Cajun disappeared to, but shrugged it away. They both had the same goal in mind. Zimi would be along soon. A musical clatter of glass against glass told him that his lover was in the bathroom.

The other man was probably brushing his teeth or something, Ebon decided, pushing the clinging denim and cotton boxer shorts down and off. The steamy heat seemed to suck at his energy and he couldn't help but collapse backward onto the pillow.

He felt so languid suddenly that he almost forgot about Zimi. The sound of a low growl in the general direction of the bedroom door corrected that unbelievable oversight.

The dark man stalked forward, the green scrub pants dipping low enough that Ebon could see the hood of Zimi's cock. His heartbeat kicked into high gear as Zimi tossed something onto the bed, skimming the cotton pants down and off.

And that's it for  now. Watch for me and more of A Roaming Heart on October 30th at Torquere Press' Happy Hour's Journal--

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1 comment:

J.J. Massa said...

Thanks again, Torquere PTB, for having me here today.