Just in time for summer – since it’s right around the corner. I have two fun little collections going at the same time and they’re not necessarily designed to do anything but kick up the heat in your life, your sex, your passion, your worlds, your summer, your day… Well, you get the idea, right? I think somethings writing something that’s simply fun and reminds you that we all seem to take life a little too seriously is okay. Even if its the dreaded erotica… Don’t get me on THAT soapbox. Anyway, I have two coming out on the 17th. One is designed to be read at lunch at 5k words and all for $1.99 – less than the price of a stinkin’ cheeseburger. These are m/m or m/f and interracial and kickin’ fun and… Not serious. They are a HOT moment in time and an event and that’s why they’re called Dirty Little Lunches. Purr..
The other is a bit more poignant and all m/m and just a moment in the summer where a guy takes a vacation or a respite from work or is on leave from the military. I’ve already had one come out that immediately received a little coveted silver star from All Romance E-books. These are a little over 12k and are priced at $2.99 – so a bargain. There is a bit of romance in these, so not all kinky sex – but then again… Let’s take a look at both in a tiny little way… Then tell me what you think.
HOT SUMMER NIGHTS – ST. MARTIN
Being fired from a prestigious modeling job certainly wasn’t the best situation for Morgan Fields to find himself in. A musician at heart, the modeling gig was simply a way of masking a haunted past. Unemployment, given his lifestyle needs, wasn’t an option. When his two best friends suggested a jaunt to the French side of St. Martin, he had to be convinced. Then again, it had been four years since he’d been on vacation. Arriving on the sensuous island, they knew exactly what their first destination would be – Orient Beach, one of the most elusive and sought after nude beaches in the world. Pristine in every manner, the natives were convinced every man and woman could find their soul mate gazing into the crystal clear waters.
Happening upon an exclusive bar catering to the upper echelon of French society, Morgan met Dante Richeau and the myth suddenly seemed magical. When he was asked to sit in as a bass player with a local band, an unexpected moment of passion with the Frenchman was nothing short of rapture. Sadly, the shared bliss also reminded him of an ugly relationship. Pushing away his desires, Morgan was determined to end the slice of ecstasy before it started. After all, Dante wasn’t who he purported himself to be. Thank God his friends had other ideas. With a little push, suddenly the hot summer nights became more than just a heightened level of hunger.
“Oh for the love of Christ. What the fuck is wrong with you, Morgan? You act like your body is in a state of animated suspension or worse. Death becomes a mannequin.” Flipping off a switch, the pulsing music and flashing neon instantly ceased, filling the wide-open space with ugly fluorescent lighting. Hissing, he slammed his camera down on the table and sauntered toward the bank of windows over looking the darkened Manhattan skyline.
Inhaling deeply, Morgan Fields had to clench his fists to keep from manifesting a weapon, a very sharp weapon. While Jody Munro was without a doubt “the” photographer and one who could make or break his career, Morgan wasn’t certain he could accept either the man’s brazen advances or his harsh methodology any longer. After all, Morgan was a model and not a stud for hire. Then again, he wasn’t certain any longer which one might pay better. How many times had he been promised the coveted cover position only to be thwarted by a younger version of himself? “I’m doing the best I can today. How about giving me more of an idea what you’re going for with the shoot.”
“Excuse me?” Snapping his head around, Jody narrowed his eyes before closing the distance, dragging a magazine from its precarious perch on the corner of the table. As he flipped several pages he continued to shake his head back and forth. “And to think you came highly recommended. You’re nothing but a lifeless stick and it doesn’t matter you’re a golden haired God with a hard body either. You’re as dumb as a stump.”
There were so many things Morgan wanted to retort but he had to think about the rent that was due in a few short days and then there was the leather furniture he’d been eyeing for some time, not to mention his huge cell phone bill. Hell, he simply wanted to be able to eat next week. The asshole reminded him of his boyfriend back home, domineering and nasty. While Morgan enjoyed taking the sub role in a relationship, he had to have trust and a level of respect. Jody was a man who exploited all things beautiful and wild, as the asshole loved to tell him. There was no doubt if Morgan had succumbed to the man’s advances they wouldn’t be arguing like cats and dogs. Yuck. The thought was too ugly. Remaining quiet, he gave Jody a harsh glare but glanced down at the cover spread as the magazine was thrust in his face.
“Here. This is what I’m talking about. You’re supposed to look and act like you’re a hot rock star, not a blond bimbo. You’re also supposed to pretend you have some emotion. How much more help do you need with that? Now, do you think you can wiggle what God gave you or do I need to give you some additional inspiration?”
“Oh, I have it down cold now.” Inspiration? How about if I thrust a stick up your tight ass? The thought giving him a grin, Morgan grabbed the bass guitar and moved back in the middle of the stage. Striking a pose, he gave Jody an eat-shit-and-die look and waited as patiently as he could. Modeling wasn’t what he thought it would be when he’d moved to the bright lights and big city almost three years before. While he was still on the fast track for making a cover, he was disillusioned from too many harsh tactics and not enough sleep. Then again it was all reminding him of a pipe dream.
“Better. I knew you had it in you, darling.” Pressing a button on the CD player, Jody tossed his hair back and grabbed the camera. “Now pretend you’re sticking that big cock of yours in your boyfriend’s ass and keep moving.”
Strumming the strings on the base, Morgan had to stymy his need to actually play his beloved instrument. Dear God, interrupting the master as he worked was sheer blasphemy. At one time he wanted to do nothing but play in a rock band so the gig should be easy. Too bad he’d succumbed to the lure of big money. And boyfriend? Yeah right. Not in this town. He’d had his share of wannabe’s and learned the hard way. Few men he could tolerate. They wanted one thing from him and he wasn’t willing to be the latest flavor of a one-night stand.
As he moved and gyrated, Morgan closed his eyes as the sultry strains of alternative rock electrified the entire space. Becoming lost in the moment, he twisted and turned, finally enjoying the shoot as he heard the click of the camera shutter and the shameless sexual coaxing Jody was giving. Perhaps this would be his best fashion job after all.
“That’s it. Give me more ass. The leather pants are tight enough. Turn around and let me see your sweet bulge. You know how the readers love to see that sexy body of yours,” Jody cooed as he drew closer to the stage. “Yeah, baby. Work it. Much better.”
Licking his lips, Morgan turned and danced and growled as he hunkered over the bass now feeling every rockin’ vibe. While he tried to concentrate on Jody’s directions, he was lost to the moment, savoring the thought of being sought after by men and women alike as he as his band played gig after gig in a heated arena. God, he could have been a rock star.
“Go for it. Give me all you got,” Jody purred and inched closer to the stage. “There you go, big boy. I knew you had it in you.”
Tipping his head back, Morgan was now completely into the music, gyrating and swaying back and forth as he took a step forward. As the heat of the lights showered down around his body, he could almost hear the roaring screams of an adorning crowd and was totally into the realm – until he moved too far toward the front of the stage. Falling smack on top of Jody, the sound of something hard cracking was met with a strangled scream. “Fuck.”
Several seconds later Jody disengaged his body from under Morgan’s and struggled to stand. “Fuck is right.”
And now the synopsis for
DIRTY LITTLE LUNCHES – CREDIT CARD DECLINED
Natasha Spencer hungered for her boss, RT Brace, but the hunk of a man didn’t know she existed. Then again few at his advertising firm knew anything about the mysterious and very wealthy man. During one luncheon adventure with a friend she was coerced into picking out a few naughty pieces at Victoria’s Secret meant for seduction. A brazen hussy she wasn’t so they enjoyed a late lunch and prepared to return to work. When Natasha pulled out her credit card to pay the bill she was shocked – it was not only declined but also reported stolen. To her horror the restaurant manager called the police. As she was led away in handcuffs and directly to a waiting limousine she realized she’d been duped. When the man of her dreams opened the door, offering a tasty way of paying off her debt, she knew she couldn’t refuse. Eyeing the chocolate-laced manager as a third Natasha knew a dirty little lunch was in the making.
What do you think – a little hot and spicy to kick start your summer?