Saturday, March 31, 2012

NEW RELEASE!! Two men search for a mystical Aquamarine


Aquamarine: Courage and Comfort” blurb:
Edmund’s sister Mavis was tragically widowed by a hit-and-run driver, when he was rushing to the hospital for the birth of their son. Now Mavis can’t cope with the loss of her husband and a new fatherless baby to care for.
Mavis’ friend, AJ, tells Edmund that he and his partner, Utah, must go and retrieve an aquamarine. The stone will bring courage and comfort to Mavis. It will hold the spirit of her dead husband and she will be able to rear their son and have a fulfilling life.
Only lovers can find the stone. Edmund and Utah are a little skeptical, but very willing to try.


“Aquamarine: Courage and Comfort” WARNING. PG13 Excerpt

Utah just smiled at his partner. Edmund had all the confidence in the world, and likely some naughty plan in mind. Well, they'd soon see just how doable his plans were. One of the things Utah loved about Edmund was his insouciant acceptance of sex as an integral part of daily life. And Utah's dick was always ready to get involved in sex with Edmund!
Even just looking at Edmund in that tight, body-hugging wetsuit, made Utah's cock grow and harden, and his balls tighten. Down boy he thought widening his stance a little to ease the pressure on his equipment. First we find this mystical aquamarine for Mavis. Then we fuck each other's brains out.
The more he thought about it, the crazier it sounded. Here on a public beach where dozens, even hundreds, of people swam every day, they were going to swim out to a sandbar and find a precious stone. They would then give this stone to Edmund's sister, and with no other help -- no therapy, no psychiatrists, no lawyers, nothing else at all -- she would accept the loss of her husband and focus on rearing her kid. When he put it like that, it almost sounded like he was the one who needed a good therapist. Deluded didn't come close to explaining the lack of logic in those thoughts. Ah well, all he could do was support Edmund. AJ had made it quite plain Edmund would not succeed if Utah wasn't there with him. And anyway, he wanted to be with Edmund. Wanted to help him.
Shrugging his shoulders he swung around to look at Edmund. "Are you ready to go fetch this rock?"
"Yes, sure. But how are we supposed to recognize it?"
"Hell if I know. Isn't it supposed to call to you, or something?"

BUY LINK: http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=78_89&products_id=3547

Berengaria Brown
http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/

http://berengariabrown.webs.com/

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Friday, March 30, 2012

Flashback Friday - "Where He Belongs" by DC Juris

Hi folks! ::waves:: DC Juris, here. For my Flashback Friday contribution, I wanted to give you a little snippet of my m/m/m bdsm romance, "Where He Belongs."



Here's the blurb:

Vance and Raine had the perfect little life, until their shared sassy sub, Andrew, threw a hissy fit and left them. But the big, wide world turned out to be far too lonely, and Andrew is back, wanting to come home. Vance is willing -- he knows he'll always do anything he must to keep Andrew -- but Raine isn't. Raine's heart still hasn't mended, and he's going to need some convincing before he lets Andrew back in. Fortunately for Andrew, Vance has a plan.


And here's a little taste:

Startled, Vance tossed down the book he'd been reading and stood. He stepped into his slippers, frowned at his lounge pants and tank top. Well, he hadn't been expecting visitors, after all. The old house creaked and groaned in protest as he descended the stairs, taking them two at a time in response to the pounding at the front door. He glanced out the large bay window as he passed, raising an eyebrow at the accumulation of what was surely over four feet of snow. It was surprising anyone would be out in this weather.

But not nearly as surprising as who actually stood on his doorstep. Covered in a dusting of snow from his head all the way down to his feet, coat pulled tightly around him, gloveless hands white-knuckled around a notebook, there was Andrew. Vance opened the door and peered out into the night, beams from the overhead light making the snow glisten and glitter. "Andrew?"

Andrew nodded. "Hi. My, um... my car b-b-roke down a few m-m-miles back." His lips held a slightly blue tint and moved stiffly around the words. Shivering, teeth chattering, he jerked his head in the direction he'd come from.

"Christ. Come inside." Vance stepped back to let him. "Get out of those clothes," he instructed as he hurried into the kitchen and grabbed up the bottle of vodka from off the counter and unscrewed the cap. He returned to the foyer, pressed the bottle into Andrew's hand, took the coat and notebook from him, and tossed them onto the bench by the door. Andrew still hadn't undressed all the way, and Vance wondered if it had more to do with modesty than anything else. It'd been nearly seven months, after all.

Andrew's hands shook, but he managed to get the bottle to his lips and took a long draw, letting out an appreciative grunt as he swallowed. He wiped away the trickle that escaped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Thanks."

"I'll get you something more substantial in a minute. C'mon, lets get you warmed up." Vance took Andrew by the elbow to lead him upstairs to the bathroom, but found their way blocked.

"Well. Look what the cat dragged in." Raine stood on the bottom step, barefoot, and wearing just a pair of tight shorts, long blond hair cascading loose over his wide shoulders and shirtless, muscular chest. Vance's cock stirred and he had to focus in order to keep from shoving Andrew aside and throwing himself at Raine. Damn, but that man did things to him.

"Raine!" Andrew gasped, immediately looking to the floor.

Raine's gaze slid up and down Andrew, and though he put up a valiant effort to keep his features calm and neutral, Vance saw the lust and the longing burning in his eyes. Of the two of them, he had taken Andrew's departure the hardest, and he was clearly more offended by Andrew's presence now than Vance was, if the fists balled at his sides were any indication. He raised an eyebrow and dragged his gaze away from Andrew to stare at Vance in that look of his that meant just what the fuck do you think you're doing?

Vance returned the look with a glare of his own. "Not now." He pushed Andrew past Raine and up the stairs.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Whatizname?

That post title got your attention, didn't it? *grins* The proper version is "What's his name?" and yes, today's post is all about names--specifically, the naming process when it comes to characters. Now, I'm not saying that all authors do it this way, so don't think we do. It's just how I've always played the name game, no matter the story I'm writing.

The process itself really isn't that complicated (at least I don't think it is), but for me, it's necessary. I put a lot of thought into what I name my main characters, male and female. Are there times when the character blows my plans out of the water and insists on a certain name? You betcha! And believe me, I listen. But aside from moments like that, here's how I go about it.

I have a huge baby naming book with over 100,000 names for boys and girls. There are popular names lists, meanings, origins--you, well, name it. Then there are a couple of sites I use: Seventh Sanctum (tons of generators of all kinds--not just names) and 20000 Names (this one has origins). There are other sites I randomly visit, but those two are the most prominent in my bookmarks folder.

When searching for the perfect name, I take several things into consideration. The two most important aspects are: sound and meaning.

Sound doesn't just mean how the name sounds by itself. I also play with surnames to find the right combination. I don't like multiple (meaning more than 2, usually) S sounds, for instance. I also try to avoid S sounds at the beginning of both words. Middle of a name and beginning of surname? Sure. Example: Seth Ellis (from Hearth & Home). See? But too many and it starts sounding...snaky. I definitely was NOT going to name the man Seth Sexton. Just...no. Didn't work. So Robbie got Sexton. This guideline applies to the letter S itself, and the sound: Lance Shaw (soft-C sound, S at beginning of last name).

I like hard letters for names (especially first names): K, R, D, T, G, hard C, etc. Despite being an angel, Cian got the hard-C name, partly for the sound, but partly for the meaning (of both names, to be honest). Spelling can also play a part in hard names: Seth is definitely not a soft name, but Robbie is. Triarius is something of an extreme example, but it's a harder name than Lance. Jonah is more fluid than Riley (surprising, if you've read these two guys in the Arcanum books).

Meaning is a biggie. Unless a character absolutely insists on a certain name, I will defer to name meaning when finding the perfect moniker. Cian (The Prince's Angel) is a great example here. Both his first and last names (Cian Carmichael) have special meaning in regard to his angelic nature. Cian is a Gaelic name meaning 'ancient'. Kinda fits when you think about the fact that Cian is over three thousand years old. Carmichael is also Gaelic and, loosely, means 'follower of Michael'. When you consider that Cian's under the Archangel Michael's command, well, yeah, there you go.

Once I have the first name, I'm usually more lenient on the surname. Granted, that's not always the case (Cian, for example), but usually, I can go with randomness. Robbie and Seth? Those were randoms. I just kept hitting the Generate button at Seventh Sanctum until something 'clicked' for them both. I do take into account how the names sound together: Seth/Robbie, Riley/Jonah, Triarius/Lance, etc. I try to avoid doubling beginning sounds whenever possible, and sometimes, that rule of thumb spills over into last names (except in brotherly love stories like Riley/Jonah, both of whom are Pierce).

So...there you have it! My rather convoluted but entirely necessary method of naming the men my readers (and I) have grown to love. :D

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

On Sale this Week

This week we have books by Elizabeth Brooks, Berengaria Brown, Dakota Dawn, Juniper Gray, and Alexa Snow on sale at 20% off.


Check them out!

New Releases for March 28

Aquamarine: Courage and Comfort by Berengaria Brown

Edmund’s sister Mavis was tragically widowed by a hit-and-run driver when he was rushing to the hospital for the birth of their son. Now Mavis cannot cope with the loss of her husband and a new fatherless baby to care for.

Mavis’ friend, AJ, tells Edmund that he and his partner, Utah, must go and retrieve an aquamarine. The stone will bring courage and comfort to Mavis. It will hold the spirit of her dead husband, and she will be able to rear their son and have a fulfilling life. Only lovers can find the stone. Edmund and Utah are a little skeptical, but very willing to try.

Get you copy today!


On the Dotted Line by Alexa Snow

When college drop-out Paul LeBlanc first meets pediatrician Dr. Cameron Fraser at the emergency room, he isn't hoping for anything more than good news about his best friends' James and Alison's baby. He's more involved in baby Gabby's life than the average guy his age might be, but there's a good reason for that -- she's his biological daughter, a gift given to his friends when it turned out James wasn't able to father a child.

Cameron asks Paul to go for drinks, but Paul doesn't want to hope for more than a few dates and maybe some hot sex. As it turns out, Cameron isn't into casual sex, but Cameron also knows right away that what he wants with Paul is anything but casual.

Paul's life is complicated. He has a mountain of debt that no one knows about and just paying the bills is a struggle. He's sick of rummaging in the couch for change to do a load of laundry and worrying about when his junky car will break down next. Still, he suspects that the added complication of a boyfriend might be worth it if that boyfriend is Cameron.

Pick up your copy today!


Assumption of Desire by Elizabeth Brooks

When Craig walks into the Cerulean Sphere looking for a one-night stand to enliven his business travel, he is definitely NOT looking for Jesse, a flaming twink sporting a pink feathered boa. But Craig finds himself surprised by the charmer, and is forced to reevaluate his initial impression of the young man, and to reconsider his prejudices. But when they meet again by surprise several years later, Craig puts his foot in it again, and Jesse won't hear a word of his apology. Will Craig be able to break through Jesse's hurt and finally say what he really means?

Find out today!


Snow Day by Juniper Gray

Jim and Johnny have been best friends and neighbors for two years, and although neither knows that the other is gay, they secretly yearn for their relationship to be more than it is. Jim has had a difficult year, and Johnny doesn't want to add to his worries and possibly alienate him by confessing. Jim would like nothing more than to take Johnny in his arms, but is afraid Johnny won't feel the same.

A bitter snow storm helps them both to realize that life is all about taking chances.

Get your copy today!


The House Sitter's Surprise by Dakota Dawn

Hollis’ heart is one aching mess. He’s in love with songwriter Foster, but Foster’s life is full of stars and glamour. A lowly restaurant manager could never catch the attention of someone so famous. At least that’s what Hollis thinks until Foster starts giving him attention.

Hollis’ hopes are quickly shattered, though, when Foster seems only interested in friendship. Sucking it up, Hollis decides to be the best friend he can be. Then, while doing a favor for his boss Hollis comes face to face with a totally naked Foster. Sparks fly, but will Foster's secrets kill Hollis’ love for him.

Pick up your copy today!

Monday, March 26, 2012

Coming this Week

Coming on Wednesday:

Courage and Comfort by Berengaria Brown (Birthstone, M/M)
On the Dotted Line by Alexa Snow (Novel, M/M)
Snow Day by Juniper Gray (Short Story, M/M)
The Assumption of Desire by Liz Brooks (Novella, M/M)
The Housesitter's Surprise by Dakota Dawn (Short Story, M/M)

Meme Monday: After Sex Snacks

What is your favorite snack after a good roll in the hay?

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Spring Has Sprung Sale!

Everyone's talking about it -- Spring has sprung! So we're offering 15% off your purchases from now through the end of day Tuesday! Just put 'sprung2012' in the coupon code box any time you check out at Torquere Books before Tuesday at midnight to get 15% off your order.

Sale good now through Tuesday March 27 at Midnight (est).

Celebrate spring with a book from Torquere Press today!

Discount codes are provided as a courtesy to our customers. Torquere Press Inc. cannot be responsible for discounting purchases made before coupons/sales are announced, and cannot issue discounts to customers who fail to use the coupon or discount code during the purchase process.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

A little help here!


I'm so torn. I'm going to need your help here. See, I've been digging in my old storage places--mind you, the damnedest things didn't get saved… anyhow, I found a trove of stories that I'd been working on. Two of them are vying for attention, so I need you guys to tell me which one you want first.
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I like them both and I fully intend to finish them both. I'll finish them right along with the boatload of other stories trying to crowd out all the rational thought in my head. (If you think I don’t have any, just keep that to yourself *g*)
I've posted a little of this first one, A Friend in Need -- but here's a little more:
Excerpt- A Friend in Need --
After the third circuit around his living room, Emrys made a decision. It was time to get active about the Tyson Smyth situation—which was, in fact a non-situation. And therein lay the problem. Tyson was in Salinas, working for Adrian Blake.
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Sadly, Emrys Neil was in San Francisco, not making mad passionate love to Tyson, or doing anything else to lavish him with attention and affection. Emrys had a lot of love and affection to give and he wanted to give it all to Tyson. While he'd been attracted to the younger man instantly, he had more than hope and hubris that gave him reason to think Tyson might accept him. Tyson had shot him more than one admiring glance during his brief sojourn as Emrys' TA. Unfortunately, that was years ago, when Tyson was still getting out into the world. Besides, as long as Tyson was a subordinate, it would have been wrong.
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Tyson was in his late twenties and had been out of college for five years. He'd spent time in county law and was now working for a notable law firm…small, yes, but decent, aside from the fact that it also housed Adrian Blake. At present, that was neither here nor there. What was important was that Tyson was still single as far as he knew, and there was no good reason not to get in touch with him.
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It was time to quit dithering and just do the thing.
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>From: Emrys Neil
>To: Tyson Smyth
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Tyson,
I know it’s been quite some time since we’ve corresponded, but I wanted to inform you of my new email address. This is my private address so I hope you’ll feel comfortable letting me know how you are. We’re colleagues now, no reason we can’t have an enjoyable correspondence. I’ve missed chatting with you.
Emrys Neil
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There now, a change of email address was a good reason to contact a colleague, right? And there was nothing aggressive in his note. A bit forward, perhaps, but Tyson was reticent at the best of times. If ever they were to get anywhere at all, Emrys would have to be the one to reach out. He didn’t mind that a bit.
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The next move was Tyson’s. Hopefully, in the years to come, he and Tyson would laugh about how Emrys had made up an entire email address just to have a reason to contact him.

*&^
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“Smyth! Do you have the Anderson file?” an abrupt voice demanded from the outer office.
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“It’s right here, Blake,” Tyson answered, his voice snappish.  Adrian had been more of a jerk than usual lately.
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The handsome face of Adrian Blake appeared in the doorway. “Thanks, man,” he said, snatching it off the desk corner, opening it immediately and rifling through its contents. . “I don’t think I’ll make it to lunch today, Smyth,” he informed Tyson, not looking up. “I’m afraid I’m meeting with Mrs. Williams at Le Sunsines.” He wandered out of the office, not bothering to say anything further to Tyson.
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This was always the way with Adrian. When work was heavy or he didn’t have someone lined up for a date, he was all over Tyson. Let a pretty woman walk into the office, or a pretty man, and Tyson was relegated to in case of emergency status.
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Male or female didn’t matter; Adrian had no preference except more and new. He liked a revolving door. Tyson was only important to him when he needed help, or when he was lonely. How many times had Tyson considered letting their relationship cross the line from work friends to something more? Bedmates, perhaps? Just as many times, however, Adrian proved it was a colossally bad idea, no matter how lonely Tyson was.
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When a casual email from Emrys Neil turned up in his inbox, Tyson was more than surprised. He was quite pleased that he’d never changed his private email address when he came to work here at the firm. Of course, he did get email through Blake, Livery, and White, but that was work. Emrys Neil had always been pleasure for Tyson, even when he’d worked for the man.
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He had exchanged business greetings emails from the law offices of Emrys Neil, Esq., but that was expected. Personal correspondence was just that. Personal.
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A little thrill ran through him as he read the note a second time. Unless he was very much mistaken, it sounded like Mr. Neil wanted a more relaxed relationship. That was the stuff of dreams for Tyson. 
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He’d always had a thing for Emrys Neil.
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In a way, this email was almost an omen. Okay, that might be a bit much, but it seemed like a reminder of what he really wanted and it couldn’t be had with Adrian. Not at all.
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He hit the reply button and considered. What should he say? Mr. Neil wanted a correspondence. If nothing else, they could be some sort of friends. Tyson would like that. He’d enjoyed Emrys Neil’s company a great deal. Any sort of ongoing conversation with him would be welcome.
>
To: Emrys Neil
From: Tyson Smyth
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Dear Mr. Neil,
I was pleased to get your note. Thank you for sending me the new email address. I hope all is going well for you in San Francisco. I truly miss being there.  
I’m fine, simply working quite a bit. I would be very interested in the goings on both at the office and at school.
Sincerely,
Tyson Smyth
~~^~~
The second book, called Under Contract has been an on again, off again love of mine LOL  I know I posted bits of it at the start, but it's been years. So, here you go. Let me know which one you want first.

Excerpt--Under Contract

Fall leaves caught in an icy breeze eddied and churned beyond the cool window pane. In his mind’s eye, Indigo pictured those leaves transforming into sheets of steamy water as they whirled and swirled around a tall, pale body.
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The longer he looked, the less he saw of the turning November leaves. His imagination provided the dark head and lean, muscular body of Silas Meade--Silas Meade who was his guide, guard, attendant, steward—all of that and more.
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Indigo would be honest enough to admit that he had a crush on the older man, if he were the type to get crushes. But Indigo had interests or obsessions. There was no in between for him.
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Ever since the morning he’d walked in on Silas showering, thankfully unknown to anyone but himself, Indigo hadn’t been able to concentrate at all.
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And so it was that he’d set his house on fire. Distracted. Daydreaming about Silas.
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“Well, humph, am I a scientist or what?” he mumbled to himself, still focused inward, ignoring the lemony yellow, burnt orange, and deep, rich scarlet flashing and spinning as the wind lifted the leaves from reluctant limbs and the pavement below. “It’s a simple matter of math. I know what the end result should be…with the right components in place, the end results should be a given.”
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Indigo turned sharply from the window, purpose surging through him. Seating himself at the small desk provided, he pulled a pad of paper forward.
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“The equation: Silas and Indigo equals…” he murmured to himself, writing as he planned. “Silas has to change his view, and the result must be his idea. All his idea. So...” He tapped the pen against his lips thoughtfully. “We’ll name opportunity “x”, idea will equal n— but that isn’t quite enough. A catalyst is necessary, perhaps more than one.” He ordered his thoughts, writing them down carefully. 
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Once finished, Indigo smugly reviewed his work. “The right formula will always provide the needed result. Therefore, if the main catalyst is the contract, or c, the formula should be: c(x+n)=Silas and Indigo.”
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Indigo considered his work narrowly. Something more was needed. His formula was sound but incomplete.
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“Well, since a fire worked so well last time…” he mused, moving into the kitchen.
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Pulling down a bowl, Indigo placed it on the kitchen table. He folded the paper he’d written on and doused it with scented hand sanitizer. After a short internal argument, he emptied a miniature, hotel-provided bottle of aftershave on top of it. Glancing around, he nudged the bowl closer to the fire alarm. He quickly located the suite’s fire extinguisher. Tucking it under his arm, he pulled out a book of matches.
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“Time to negotiate a new contract,” Indigo announced to the tiny flame.           
~~^~~


And that's all the time we have for today! Let me know which story you want first. I'll look forward to hearing from you!
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And a hearty THANKS! to Torquere for letting me hang out here today.
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J.J. Massa
www.jjmassa.com
join me on Twitter, Facebook, my Blog,or my NCP Space

Books for a rainy day




So, how's your day going? Mine is going slow, not that I mind. It's a bit rainy out, and I guess someone heard me whining about the weather.  I don't know the exact temperature, but I'm sure it qualifies as chilly.
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Okay, enough about that. Who cares about chilly weather when you have hot reads, right?  I told you a little bit of where I got the inspiration for Garret. Langley emerged from a couple of sources--namely a guy I went to college with and a boy I had a crush on when I was eight. Obviously, at eight, I didn't know a thing about what was sexy and what was not.
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Still, this one boy was attractive to me somehow. He was older, and though he moved in a relaxed, loose fashion, it always seemed like he dressed in a hurry. His hair looked shiny and such, but always messy. Dare I date myself? Well, this was in the 70s, long before the artfully-messy look was "in."
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One thing he had in common with Vinnie, my buddy in school, was that people always talked about how "slept in" he looked. At eight, that didn't mean much to me, but years later, I got it.
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As a writer, I tell folks that the air we breathe is tax deductable, because you never know what will inspire you. Not only that, you could find yourself researching shoelaces or buying various styles of little bells, just to compare the noises they make. Anyone, anything, and everything is fodder for inspiration.
With that in mind, let me share a bit of a new story I'm working on. I plan to release an episode at a time, because that's how the story works. Besides, the entire book looks to be at least 280,000 words, give or take a few  :- )
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Anyhow, here's a bit from Rainy Day Lover --part of it I posted on TRSParties yesterday, but you need not go looking--
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Excerpt:                             
Cliff wasn't sure what had driven him to Louisiana, of all places, and during one of the rainiest months of the year. It did feel right, though. The steady patter of rain on the windows played out a rhythm of peace. Peace was something he badly needed right now.
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His onetime girlfriend and mother of his children had dumped them on him just as he'd wrapped up a bid on a large and expensive project--the first of his new partnership, in fact. Just as he had settled himself and his children into a routine, she'd whirled back in and brought a cloud of chaos with her. She had the children this week and he needed some time to de-stress.
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There was a jarring note in his tranquility. Literally. Someone named Oni-something intended to be in late tonight. Apparently he'd had to go see to something important.
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It had been hard to miss the fact that this Oni-whatever had been there, because aside from his note to the landlady, his luggage was stacked just inside the door. At his first onceover of the note, Cliff had decided he'd send the interloper on his way, no questions asked. Listening to the intensifying rain as he poured himself a drink, Cliff was beginning to vacillate. It didn't seem right to send someone back out into this driving rain after they'd been in and out all day. Not to mention how out of the way this out-of-the-way getaway really was. The person who'd reluctantly ferried him over to this small island in the bayou had made quite the point of telling Cliff how lucky it was that he, the boat pilot, was available just then.
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His musings were cut short by the slamming of the front door.  He couldn't see the man clearly as he was soaked through and moving quickly.
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"Gah- lee!" the stranger grumbled to himself. "Pleuvoir beaucoup out 'dare tonight!"  He shucked his sopping jacket and hung it near the door, peeling the shirt off over his head, his back to Cliff. He had a pinkish scar skating the curve of his bicep, starkly at odds with his slightly tanned skin. Cliff gasped slightly when he realized that the mottling on the man's shoulder neck and back must be bruising.
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Stepping forward, Cliff started to speak when the man, who surely had to be Oni-whatever, looked up as he turned, making eye contact with Cliff. The man was breathtaking. He had a sculpted, angular face, an abundance of thick, dark hair, currently dripping, and eyes so black…No, they were purple--the color of a fine pinot noir. As he looked on, Simon's t-shirt landed on the floor with a wet plop.
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Realizing he was staring, Cliff laughed at himself. With a head-clearing shake, Cliff once again strode forward. "You must," he cleared his throat and started again. "You must be Oni-uh-something," he mumbled, hoping to disguise his ignorance.
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The other man's expression was affable, but somehow inscrutable. "Qui ça va?" Cliff responded with a brief frown. It wasn't as if he could remember his high school French.  "Who you are?" the man repeated.
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"It seems there's been some kind of mistake here," Cliff began as he strode quickly to the closet where he'd found towels earlier for his own dripping entrance.
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"F'true?" the newcomer murmured, interested but distracted. The tone of his voice seemed to caress the ear. "What kind a mistake?"
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 Cliff turned around slowly, not sure what he intended to say. The other man's eyes had darkened to India ink as they skimmed Cliff's form intently.
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With a quiet cough, he drew his watcher's gaze back to his eyes."I'm renting this place for the next week. It looks like you've…" he swept one hand wide to indicate the situation, handing over the towel as he spoke. "I don't mind if you take the couch tonight. We can figure it out in the morning."
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" T'es sûr?"
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"What? Am I sure?"  He was beginning to worry a little. The man, Oni-something, seemed to speak very little English. "I've never met a Frenchman named Oni…well ," he mumbled aloud. "I can't even say that name."
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Humor glinted in the other man's eyes before he threw back his head and laughed heartily, a full, ringing laugh that brought heat to Cliff's cheeks and a curve to his lips.  "Me neither, podna. I do my bes' to speak American from now on, yeah? You jus' fix up my name so you like it. Over to work, they jes call me Démêler." To Cliff, it sounded like Day-meh-lei. That, at least, he could pronounce, albeit badly.
~~^~~

In that story, I always think of Robert Redford for Cliff. The other character is a mix between Johnny Depp and every Acadian, Creole, and Cajun man I've ever known. Since I've spend some time along the bayou, I know a fair few of them.
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Let me just say, there's nothing quite like rain on the bayou.

A book that I have with Torquere that's one of my favorites is Civil Liberties. I've always liked those characters. I re-read the book recently and couldn't help but think of all that I could have added to it. Ah well, it is what it is.
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I'm not going to tell you where Denny came from. Well, not specifically. He sprung from a characterization in a TV show my daughter and I used to watch together.
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Here's a little excerpt from that book:


Starting at: $3.99
by J.J. Massa
When cop Christian Parker meets D.A. Denny at a bar and takes him home, they have one steamy night of passion. That might be the end of it, but a deposition brings Christian back into Denny's life. Denny tries to deny his feelings for Christian, preferring to be a player, but when a family tragedy brings Christian down, Denny is there to comfort him.
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Everything that can go wrong for these two does go astray, and Christian is ready to give up. When another tragedy threatens to tear them apart forever, though, it might just be Denny who has to convince Christian that he's ready to settle down. Can they struggle through everything life throws at them and find a way to stay together?

Excerpt: 
Once inside his apartment, Christian turned toward his guest, determined to do things right.
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“Would you like something to drink?” he asked nervously.
.

“I want you, Christian,” Denny stated firmly, walking right up to him, taking him by the shoulders and pinning him to the closed door. His mouth came down on Christian’s as he murmured, “I want you every way I can have you.”
.

Oh, Christian was spinning, he felt like he was floating free, yet clinging. Such heady kisses, lips stroking over his, tongue seeking, caressing, sucking on his and all he wanted to do was climb inside this other man and stay there forever.
.

Before he knew what was happening, his tight t-shirt was over his head and off, the top button of his jeans open, and long, elegant fingers caressing him everywhere at once.
.

“Where’s the bedroom, Christian?” Denny murmured, and they turned, moving toward it.
.

Shoes, socks, pants, boxers, all of it melted off, floated away somehow and both men were naked when Denny tugged Christian toward the large bed that dominated the room.
.

“I can…I can touch you, too, right?”  Christian scooted onto the bed, pulling the comforter back.
“I told you, I’m sorta new at this and…its stupid, but I didn’t know if there were rules.”
.

Denny grinned. “There are rules,” he said, sitting facing Christian, his hand stroking through the hair on his chest, fingers teasing a nipple. “You can touch me, if you want, but you have to tell me if you do or don’t like something. Do you have lube? Condoms?”
.
The question sent a thrill, and a spark of fear through Christian. This was real. The man he wanted was really going to make love…have sex with him. It was real.
.

“In the drawer,” Christian nodded, his words a dry croak.
.

“Hey,” Denny murmured, arms sliding around Christian, drawing him down on the bed to lie facing him. “It’s okay, relax.”
.

Denny wasn’t giving this up, this beautiful young body, so clean and cute, so hot and handsome. No, but he would calm his skittish tiger, and then have his way with him. When Denny’s hard cock brushed against Christian’s half-hard shaft, the younger man groaned, his erection growing again.
~~^~~

And that's all for now. I'll be back soon. Don't forget to look around at all of the amazing books out this month at Torquere.

www.jjmassa.com
join me on TwitterFacebookmy Blog,or my NCP Space

It's a J.J. Day! :)


Can you believe that Spring has already arrived? Here in New Jersey, we're shocked at the low snowfalls of this past, so-called winter. Now, right out in front of my building, the entire row of trees is in full bloom, white flower petals  all over the place.
-
And the birds! I happen to have two birds in my home, one of whom is watching me closely as I type. But my birds don't start singing at midnight and continue to warble until I can't stand it anymore and give up sleep altogether.
.
Aside from my surprise at the crazy weather this year, I wasn't really going anywhere with all of that…except that our buddy Langley, from Hauling Ashes, doesn't get enough sleep either.
`
Nice segue, huh? I had to work for it, but still, I did manage to connect my ramblings to my latest release.
.
The Sip--Hauling Ashes--came out Wednesday at Torquere Press. I mentioned over at the TRSParties site that the story was written because a friend of mine was looking for a whole-life change. There aren't any do-overs in life, but this particular friend and I like to talk about it when things are tough. He usually asks me just to write him another life and is sometimes quite specific about it.
.
Sometimes, he wants to try life as a college professor. Other times he fancies himself a lawyer. Sometimes he wants to be gay, other times straight, or more often, bi.  This time, I used him as a template for Garret, both in personality and nationality.  
.
So that's where this story came from. My friend wanted a do-over, and he wanted a fit young secretary with bed hair. What can I say? I cherish my friends. So I gave him what he wanted.


Starting at: $2.49
It's been too long since Langley has had his ashes hauled - -so long that even his snarky old supervisor looks good to him.
Garret keeps a tight rein on his passions… his burning desires. For two years, the fire for his assistant has smoldered. After two years of Langley Johnson stumbling into work looking debauched and delectable, that fire is blazing out of control.
What will it take to bank the fire? Or is it too late for anything but ashes?

Excerpt:
Garret had seldom been so grateful to see the hands of the clock reach five.
.
What a day. What a long and tedious day.
His assistant had been late again. The little bastard. Did he have to be so damned sexy in the mornings?
.
Langley Johnson had a natural, just-rolled-out-of-bed look that ate at Garret. It wasn't fair. Did any other manager in the company have this to deal with? How did the young man find suits that clung to his tight little ass like that? Did he have them measured? Most men aimed for something a little less… revealing, perhaps.
.
That messy dark hair, those drowsy blue eyes, sleep-soft face… it was worse if he came skidding in with his tie half-off like this morning. He had a freshly-fucked look that fairly screamed to the ravenous, dangerous part of himself that Garret kept locked away most of the time. 
.
It wasn't hard to keep his… proclivities contained, usually. He was from an old-fashioned family and worked for an old-fashioned firm. It had taken him many years to get where he was today. He wasn't at the top, exactly, though he was the manager of his section. He was settled, comfortable. That is, until his assistant stumbled in appearing debauched. Every time the man wandered in, late for work and looking used, Garret had to fight to keep from making sure the job had been thoroughly done. 

~~^~~


www.jjmassa.com
join me on TwitterFacebookmy Blog,or my NCP Space

Thursday, March 22, 2012

like a chicken with its hed cut off--

man, am I running amok today! Well, this week. BA Tortuga and I have family in from Arkansas, and we've shopped until we dropped. A 16 year old and an 11 year old can try on clothes, man!

BA and I got some neat stuff for the grill. We got veggie clips, which are these giant alligator clip you use to cook veggies like asparagus. We also got this steel plate that dips in the center to keep all the good stuff from running off the sides. We're using it for nachos.

The boys of mine voted most likely to grill are Ross and Tank, from Taking the Leap. Where they live in Texas, you grill out two-thirds of the year because it's so hot. Tank makes spice rubs and sauces, so you know he's always trying out new stuff on Ross and the dogs.

You can find Taking the Leap here!

It even has bluebonnets on the cover! It's bluebonnet season right now!

Thanks for listening, y'all

XXOO

Julia

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Bookstore Announcement

Dear Valued Customer:

Due to the high volume of orders our site has been experiencing, our cart is encountering some slowdown issues. If your order fails to deliver or if your book file isn't immediately available, please do not place the order again. Contact our help team at help@torquerepress.com with your order information and the email associated with your account. If your order went through, we will email your books, or give you directions to download books direct from your account page.

We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, and we hope to have the issue resolved as soon as possible. Please let us know about any issues you may have, and we will try to resolve them as quickly as we can during regular help desk hours.

The Torquere Press Team

On Sale this Week

This week we have books by Lee Benoit, J.J. Massa, Sean Michael and AR Moler on sale at 20% off.

Check them out!

New Releases for March 21

Solitary, a Hammer Novel by Sean Michael

Greg's on a downward spiral. He broke his back a few years into a promising stunt career, then his master died shortly after they began living a BDSM lifestyle together. He's just lost. So lost, that he can't keep a Master for more than two weeks. So lost that he's been arrested several times and is this close to winding up in jail. So lost that Master Oliver doesn't know what to do with him anymore.

In desperation, Oliver calls on his friend Appleton who lives in isolation in Northern Canada. Ap enjoys working with subs, and has both the time and the inclination to work with a lost soul like Greg. Not to mention, there's no way to get into legal trouble or run away from Ap's house given its location. So, Ap takes Greg in, hoping to help Greg find his center and himself again.

Will Greg find what he needs with Ap? Or will he find so much more?

Find out in this latest addition to Sean Michael's Hammer Club series.

Pick up your copy today!


Seeking the Balance by AR Moler

Lt. Cameron Bradshaw is an adrenaline junkie. You have to be to be a navy fighter pilot. It would never occur to him that his new lover, Dr. Mason Flynn, would think buying a new motorcycle to replace the one that was destroyed in his near fatal accident, was an insanely stupid idea. A vicious argument, an opportunity to cheat and some mistaken assumptions lead to worry and stress between the two men. A dying patient and assignment in Boston leads Cam and Mason to making choices that are both uncomfortable and difficult.

As Mason tries to come to terms with the concept of a patient he cannot save, seeing an old lover, and realizing that Cam Bradshaw’s love for him may run deeper and stronger than he dared to hope all weave together into Mason working toward learning when it’s time to let go of old fears.

Originally published as the Chaser series: Seeking the Balance

Get your copy today!


Fireflies in the Bathtub by Lee Benoit

Arthritic hands and bathroom renovations aren’t sexy. Well, not usually. When Master Preston’s hands prevent him shaving himself, neither he nor Paulo expect how sexy it will be for Paulo to serve his master in a new way. With Preston’s birthday approaching, refurbishing their old bathroom to accommodate their shaving scenes gives Paulo the perfect opportunity to show his master the depth of his love.

Fireflies in the Bathtub was originally published in Toy Box: Shaving.

Pick up your copy today!


Hauling Ashes by J.J. Massa

It's been too long since Langley has had his ashes hauled - -so long that even his snarky old supervisor looks good to him.

Garret keeps a tight rein on his passions… his burning desires. For two years, the fire for his assistant has smoldered. After two years of Langley Johnson stumbling into work looking debauched and delectable, that fire is blazing out of control.

What will it take to bank the fire? Or is it too late for anything but ashes?

Find out today!

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

YAY for our Three Finalists

http://www.lambdaliterary.org/foundation-updates/03/20/24th-annual-lambda-literary-award-finalists-announced/ 

We are so proud to announce that there are three finalists from Torquere Press in the Lambda Literary Awards.

Gay Mystery
Boystown: Three Nick Nowak Mysteries, by Marshall Thornton

Gay Romance
Settling the Score, by Eden Winters

LGBT SF/F/H
Steam-powered: Lesbian Steampunk Stories, edited by JoSelle Vanderhooft

Welcome to New Amsterdam

Welcome to the world of New Amsterdam: it's the NYC landscape, Chicago's political machine, and Gotham's darkness. Murder, mayhem, intrigue, and intimacy are the stock in trade on these city streets, and rarely is anything exactly what it seems.

The tale begins with Hearts Under Fire, continues in "The New Deal", expands to different parts of the city in "Luck in the Making" and "Swing Shift", and will further unfold in Winter's Knight in April and other shorts set in the city, all slated for 2012. Join me, H.J. Raine, and my co-author, Kelly Wyre, for a tour of leather, lust, and love.

Our books are available from Torquere Press and on Amazon, and Hearts Under Fire will be available in print later in 2012.

And also join the two of us this Thursday, March 22nd, on the Torquere Social Blog for behind the scenes action, a prompt fest, and moderate amounts of entertaining chaos. See you there!

Much love and many thanks!
Kelly Wyre & H.J. Raine
Kelly's Blog
Kelly's Facebook
Raine's Blog
Raine's Facebook

COMING ON APRIL 11TH TO AN ONLINE SHOP NEAR YOU
Winter's Knight:

The Second New Amsterdam Tale

Lucian Gray is the son of the infamous city mayor. By day, he's a beautiful demagogue. By night, he's the king of a vigilante organization hellbent on protecting the city when the legal channels must turn a blind eye.

Shea Ollivander is the genius son of the family who show Lucian the only love to be found when Lucian's a boy. Shea knows he's Lucian's friend and rival. He understands he's one of the few people Lucian likes. But what Shea doesn't know is that he's Lucian's reason for living.

And when Lucian discovers someone dared to hurt the only man in the world whom he loves, the streets will flow red with his vengeance.

Hearts Under Fire:
Ten years ago, Maxwell you-can-just-call-me Clark thought he would spend his life as a military man. But his world turned into a nightmare when a suicide bomber destroyed Clark's career. It's been a long road to recovery, littered with surgery, alcohol, and secrets, but Clark finally has peace. His bar, Glow, is the place to be in the city of New Amsterdam, the son of the mayor employs Clark as a confidential information man, and Clark’s side venture as part-owner of a BDSM club is quite the profitable release. Clark’s life is a good one, so long as no one gets too close.

Then a man walks into Glow who will forever change Clark’s rules and reality. Thinking Professor Daniel Germain is just another handsome face ripe for Clark’s kind of good time, Clark puts on his smoothest moves. When the professor turns him down, Clark goes on the hunt, and what he discovers shows him that even the deepest wounds can be healed by submitting to love.


"The New Deal" .
It's been a year since Clark and Daniel found one another in Hearts Under Fire, and the bartender and the professor have found harmony. However, Clark's work for Lucian Gray, the New Amsterdam Mayor's son and leader of an underground vigilante network, still continues, and it's not without danger. Clark knows it's only a matter of time before the risks become too great for Daniel to bear, and his prediction comes true when a BDSM scene turns into a captive discussion. Find out what happens when the men must balance life's passion with true love.


"Luck in the Making"
For Jeffrey Ross, life is all about disaster management and recovery. Even a ride on the subway presents its challenges. Thankfully, though, Jeffrey works for Maxwell Clark, who not only notices difficult struggles and brave deeds, he believes in easing the first by rewarding the second. And this Valentine's Day, Clark's decided that Jeffrey is long overdue for some sweet strokes of manmade good fortune.



"Swing Shift"
Valentine's Day is just another day in the line of duty for Officer Ed Sorenson: investigate a murder, save a life, file the paperwork. But when Ed has to step out of the closet to help an injured boy and to be a role model for the New Amsterdam Police Department, Ed finds unexpected solace in a man who understands what it takes to keep the city and its citizens safe.

Coming this Week

Coming on Wednesday:

Fireflies in the Bathtub by Lee Benoit (Short Story, M/M)
Hauling Ashes by J.J. Massa (Short Story, M/M)
Seeking the Balance by AR Moler (Chaser Compilation, M/M)
Solitary, a Hammer Novel by Sean Michael (Novel, M/M)

Monday, March 19, 2012

Meme Monday: Weather Dislikes

With it being Spring in most parts now, most people are dealing with rainy weather and even storms.  So that brings to mind the question...


What is the one weather condition you could happily live without?

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Review Round-Up on LiveJournal

Come on over to the LiveJournal and see our latest Review Round-Up! Let us know of any that are out there that we missed.

Steam Powered

Steam power evokes many sepia toned memories. Great trains carrying people on jaunts to the sea. Ladies in fine dresses sipping tea from delicate china. It harkens back to a time which, to us, seems simpler. A life a million miles from the 24/7 rat race many of us now live in.

So it comes as no surprise that steam power, and all it evokes, is making a come back in a huge way. People are hosting tea parties and dressing up in the clothes of the era. For one weekend a year, the city of Lincoln here in the UK grinds to a halt and turns the clock back over a hundred years.

My name's Rae and I come from a tiny industrial town in the heart of England. My novel, Mars on the Rise, will soon be available. Set in a world of sex, drugs and steam power, it explores what happens when our dreams come true. Whether we want them to or not.

To celebrate, we're been planing a Steampunk soiree and you're all invited! It's taking place on May 12th at the Century Theatre in Coalville. The Century Theatre is an old travelling theatre which was built in my home town of Hinckley. It was transported around the country on the back of four trucks and set up in village greens. It now has a permanent (and loving!) home at the old colliery in Coalville.

For a mere £20, you will receive the following:

- Signed copy of the book
- Various Victorian and Steampunk themed goodies.
- Music and comedy provided by Count Rostov, The Cogkneys and Sci-Fi Mafia.
- Stalls selling Victorian and Steampunk goods.
- Your name and link to website/blog/store etc on the website and Facebook pages.
- Music, dancing, laughter and general splendidness into the early hours.
- The chance to have a jolly good night out!

Should you choose to join us (and I really hope you do!), you're invited to dress in Steampunk outfits. It's not compulsory but, should you choose to, then you'll be in good company.

Tickets are strictly limited to 100. If you'd like one (or even several!), or would just like more information, please feel free to drop an email to:

Take care, thank you for allowing me to be on the blog and I do hope to see you in May!

Friday, March 16, 2012

Too Sexy Sale!

Our books are too sexy for full price! So we're offering 15% off your purchases from now through the end of day Monday! Just put 'toosexy2012' in the coupon code box any time you check out at Torquere Books before Monday at midnight to get 15% off your order.

Sale good now through Monday March 19 at Midnight (est).

Come get a sexy book from Torquere Press today!


Discount codes are provided as a courtesy to our customers. Torquere Press Inc. cannot be responsible for discounting purchases made before coupons/sales are announced, and cannot issue discounts to customers who fail to use the coupon or discount code during the purchase process.

Endearing Young Charms by Charlie Cochet

As a special treat, a little St. Patrick's Day gift to you. I've written a little holiday special with Bruce and Jace.

For those of you unfamiliar with Bruce and Jace, they are the protagonists of my Valentine's Day Sip, When Love Walked In which takes place in Manhattan, New York, 1933.

Blurb: Bruce Shannon is a Private Investigator dealing with case after case of missing persons and infidelity. None of which inspire warm, fuzzy feelings during the week of Valentine’s Day. Then again, Bruce isn’t exactly a fuzzy feelings kind of guy, which suits him just fine. He doesn’t need anyone anyhow, only his cat, Mittens. That is, until the handsome Jace Scarret wanders off the streets and into Bruce’s life. Will Jace end up showing Bruce that maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t so lousy after all?





Endearing Young Charms - a St. Patrick's Day Special by Charlie Cochet



“Bruce!”

There was no reply.

"Bruce?” Jace knocked cautiously on the grumpy detective’s office door, all the while wondering what on earth the man could be doing in there. It had been a slow day, so Jace knew there weren’t any clients, nor were they working any cases at the moment. With any luck, Bruce was finally getting somewhere with the previous month’s expenses. He knew how much Bruce hated paperwork, but it had taken Jace over a month to undo the damage done to Gladys’ pristine filing system. The man had a talent for disorder.

After Jace’s request, Bruce had growled at him, stomped into his office, and slammed the door, but soon it was clear that the detective was indeed working on the expenses—made evident by the sheer amount of cursing that had been expelled. However, that had been hours ago, and Jace had begun to get rather concerned, especially since he’d been attempting to get Bruce’s attention for the past fifteen minutes now.

Walking to the outer office door, he locked up. He didn’t need any clients walking in while Bruce was in the middle of one of his colorful outbursts. With that done, he went to Bruce’s office and quietly let himself in.

“What the—” Fuming, Jace marched over to Bruce’s desk, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at his boss, and lover. “What are you doing?”

Bruce sat with his legs propped up on his desk, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, tie crooked, a dime novel in one hand, and a glass of whiskey in the other.

“Reading,” he murmured, without looking up.

“That much I gathered,” Jace replied through his teeth, somehow managing to summon patience. “Is that what you’ve been doing for the last three and a half hours? Reading a dime novel?”

That earned him a frown, but Bruce didn’t bother looking away from his book to do so. “Don’t be a bunny. It doesn’t take me that long to read one of these. This is my third.”

“Your…” Jace gaped at him before his gaze shifted to the archive box on the desk. It was filled to the brim with balled up pieces of paper—Bruce’s preferred method of filing. Jace picked one up and held it out to Bruce, who casually took a sip of his whiskey as he continued reading. “How am I supposed to sort out the expenses if you keep turning your invoices into something the Yankees could use for practice?” Receiving no reply, he opened his mouth to begin another bout of scolding when there was a faint rustling sound. For a moment, he thought it had come from the box. Leaning in, he peered at the sea of wadded up foolscap. Suddenly, they attacked him. With the manliest of yelps, Jace jumped back, his hand flying to his chest as he attempted to get his pulse back to a normal level. “Jesus Christ! What the hell is that?”

Gingerly, he approached the box to get a better look. As soon as his finger touched the cardboard edge, a white paw swooped out and batted it. “For crying out loud! Mittens!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” Bruce put his book down and grinned up at him. “She crawled in there about an hour ago. Don’t know what the hell she’s been doing in there, but she’s obviously enjoying it.”

“Well, at least one of you is doing something with these invoices. Shame it can’t be the one capable of dialogue,” Jace grumbled, wishing he could stay mad at Mittens, but as the only thing visible was her pink nose poking out from under all that paper, he couldn’t help but forgive her. Bruce on the other hand…

“Dialogue is overrated,” Bruce grumbled. “Besides, you’re wrong about Mittens.” He rapped his knuckles against the box. “Sweetheart, talk to Jace.” As instructed, Mittens began to meow. Jace was unimpressed—with Bruce anyway, and arched an eyebrow at him.

“What? It ain’t her fault you can’t understand her.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jace closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He wondered how Gladys had managed. One thing was certain; the woman deserved a medal or sainthood. “Bruce, you are not leaving this office until you at least make some headway on these invoices.”

“Nope.” Bruce stood and started rolling down his sleeves. Swiping his cufflinks off the desk, he handed them to Jace, who was so taken aback by Bruce’s response that he took the cufflinks without a second thought. Had he missed something?

“What do you mean ‘nope’?” Jace asked dumbly, as Bruce extended an arm out to him. Granted, Bruce was the boss, and although most of the time he griped about things, when Jace had a point, Bruce usually gave in.

“I mean nope. I’m done for the day. And so are you.”

“I am? We are?” He fastened Bruce’s shirt cuff then started on the other. “But it’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“It’s St. Patrick’s Day,” Bruce declared with a big grin that had Jace’s stomach filling with butterflies. How was it possible for the man to be so excruciatingly frustrating, yet terribly irresistible at the same time? And the worst part was that Bruce was completely aware. Despite his arrogance, Jace couldn’t keep himself from melting under the man’s gaze. He quickly shook himself out of it.

Jace blinked, puzzled. “So?”

“You obviously ain’t Irish,” Bruce muttered, allowing Jace to straighten his tie for him before he walked to the coat rack, put on his suit jacket, and picked up his overcoat and hat.

“What does that have to do with anything?” He was still confused. Not an unusual state for him where Bruce was concerned.

“We’re going to go celebrate.”

Jace’s gaze went to the half empty bottle of whiskey on the desk before it shifted back to Bruce, who narrowed his gaze. “There something you wanna say?”

“Nope.” Jace shook his head for emphasis.

“Wise guy.” Walking over to the desk, Bruce tapped the side of the archive box. “Sweetheart, it’s time to go home.”

Mittens leapt out of the box, sending balled up invoices in all directions. After being deposited on Bruce’s shoulder, the two followed Jace into the outer office where he picked up his own overcoat and hat.

“You spoil her too much,” Jace muttered as they left and he locked up. Mittens had to be the most pampered cat in all of Manhattan. Not that he was jealous or anything.

“She deserves to be spoiled,” Bruce replied, scratching Mittens under her chin. As they walked out of the building, Bruce was still smiling, which was rather unusual for him. Was it because it was St. Patrick’s Day? It wasn’t as if the man didn’t drink at all hours any other day. What was so special about today? “Come on,” Bruce added. “We’ll drop Mittens off and then head to McBride’s. Corned beef and cabbage is on me.”

Jace followed quietly along and in no time they were at Bruce’s apartment. He waited in the living room as Bruce dropped Mittens off and disappeared into his bedroom. When he came out, Jace couldn’t keep the dopey grin off his face. Bruce was sporting a green tie. Further to his surprise, Bruce handed him a similar one.

“I have a tie,” Jace said, looking down at his own less ostentatious one.

“You don’t want to go in there and not be wearing green. Believe me.”

Not entirely sure what Bruce was getting at, Jace removed his tie and replaced it with the new brighter one. Having been a bank clerk, his ties had usually been restricted to black, gray, or deep blues. He had to admit, he was a little tickled that he was wearing something of Bruce’s—even if it was a little garish. It was silly, he knew, but it always made him feel somewhat closer to Bruce whenever he had the chance to wear something of his. It reminded Jace of when they’d met.

“What’s with the face?” Bruce asked, ushering Jace toward the door. “You’re not jealous of Mittens are you?”

How was it that Jace never had any clue as to what Bruce was thinking, but the man could read him like an open book? Not that Jace had any intention of admitting as much. “Who said I was jealous?”

“Your bottom lip,” Bruce replied, poking at it softly and sending a shiver up Jace’s spine. “It juts out whenever I’m not paying you enough attention, and you get all mopey like a puppy.”

That brought a raised brow from Jace. “Well someone certainly has a high opinion of himself.” Doing his best to keep his wanton thoughts at bay, he made to open the door only to have Bruce smack his hand against it and shut it. Jace pulled on the doorknob to no avail. “Do you mind? What on earth has gotten into you?”

“I’m more concerned about what needs to get into you,” Bruce replied, his voice low and throaty. Jace’s cheeks flared up as Bruce leaned into him, his lips inches away.

“Must you be so crude?” He hated the tremor in his voice, but it couldn’t be helped. It had been days since they’d been intimate. Bruce had been busy working cases, which usually meant he was in a foul mood, and Jace was still learning when to initiate contact or leave him be. Bruce Shannon was a conundrum. One Jace had yet to figure out.

“Am I insultin’ your delicate sensibilities?” Bruce asked, his arm wrapping around Jace’s waist and his hand finding its way to his backside. He gave it a firm, sudden squeeze, drawing a gasp from Jace.

“Um… no,” he managed feebly, uncertain of what to make of Bruce’s bold move. “I thought you said we were going to celebrate?”

“Are you complaining?” Bruce asked, and started to draw away.

In a bout of panic, Jace grabbed Bruce’s jacket and crushed their lips together, thrilled by the deep, slow moan that escaped Bruce. Jace’s kiss was returned with exceptional enthusiasm and he had to admit to nearly sighing when Bruce’s strong arms enveloped him in a tight embrace. Their kiss grew more ardent and needy, until they were forced to come up for breath. The lust in Bruce’s eyes was enough to make Jace go weak at the knees.

“Forget the pub,” Bruce said gruffly, as he all but tore off Jace’s clothes. “Let’s celebrate here.”

Jace was hardly about to argue, and even if he had anything at all to say on the matter, it was gone the moment Bruce had him stripped down to only his shirt—having given up by the third button. He grabbed Jace, hauled him off his feet, and pressed him against the door, using his weight to hold him there. With his legs wrapped around Bruce’s waist, Jace swiftly went to work undressing his lover as much as was physically possible from his position. His hands took advantage, running all over those hard, delicious muscles. There were kisses, licks, bites, and plenty of grinding coming from both of them.

Bruce pulled Jace away from the door and precariously carried him into the bedroom, dropping him onto the bed with a bounce. As he pulled off his tie and flung it somewhere across the room, followed by the rest of his clothes, he paused to sweep his gaze over Jace.

“God damn, you are somethin’ else.”

“You know,” Jace purred, his fingers tracing a line down Bruce’s chest. “I can see myself really enjoying St. Patrick’s Day from now on.”

“Less talk, more celebrating,” Bruce ordered, kissing Jace to the point of making his toes curl. He wrapped his legs around his lover and gave himself up freely and wantonly. One thing was certain, Bruce had one hell of a way of celebrating holidays.

The End




If you'd like to read about how Bruce and Jace first met, you can pick up a copy of When Love Walked In here: Torquere Press Books



You can also find out more about me and my writing at my blog, The Cat's Pajamas!