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Welcome, everyone! Here's where I blather about writing, life with my wife BA, and my two basset hounds! I love to hear from readers, so comment here or email me!

Thursday, December 11, 2008

New release!

5'O'clock Bar has just been released by Torquere Press!

The 5 O'clock is a fictional bar just outside of Denver, and it's the brainchild of me, Sean Michael, Chris Owen and BA Tortuga

We wrote it as a Turn of the Screw serial, and it features lots of neat boys each with their own chapter, or set of chapters. I did two sets of working class boys, Hector and Wally and Sam and Mac. Hector has lost in love a lot, and he has no idea his buddy Wal has been looking a long time. There's more to Wally than meets the eye, and Hector will be happy to explore it all. Sam and Mac meet over a fistfight at the 5'Oclock, and man do sparks fly.

You can buy it in paperback or ebook! http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=1674

here's a wee bit of Sam and Mac

"Lord, we're a pair, huh?" Mac went and got the ice cream, then came on over with two spoons. Those long legs just ate up space, moving Mac across the floor. It was hot.

"Uh-huh." His eyes were focused on the tempting bulge under the denim. He bet that was a nice, long bit of rope.

"Hope you like butter pecan." Settling next to him, Mac scooted close. Close enough to share the dessert.

"I like ice cream, honey. I ain't picky." He took a spoon, moaning as the cold hit his throat.

"Feels good, huh?" They both chowed down, not even turning the game on.

"No shit. My throat feels like I gargled with sandpaper."

"I hear you. And my kidneys." Mac gave him a hard look. "You didn't have to hit me so hard."

"You didn't have to call me short, man. I'm tall enough that my feet touch the ground."

"Your legs go all the way to the floor, huh?" Mac grinned. "Mine go to my neck."

"Naw. There's some nice shit between them legs and your neck." Some real nice shit.

He got a look, kind of sideways and hot as hell. "You could get a closer look."

"You think?" He put his spoon in the carton, shifted a little. "You'll have to take it easy on my poor bones. You tore my ass up last night."

"Yeah. Yeah, I hear that." Still, Mac's hand was sliding on his thigh. "I figure something light. Easy."

"Works for me." He scooted closer. "Something to take the edge off, let us be all melty and shit." Sam could so do melty.

"That's it." One hand strayed right into his lap, pressing against his zipper, just hard enough to make him feel it.

His hand headed for Mac's shirt buttons, giving him a look at that bruised and beaten chest. The guy looked about as horked as he did, but damn, it was still pretty. Lean muscles. A fine dusting of hair. Ridged belly.

"It's fine. You're fine." He reached out, petting that belly, letting the back of his hand nudge Mac's hard-on.

"Mmm. You got good hands for a midget."

Oh, he was so going to kick Mac's ass. As soon as the man let go of his cock, which Mac was pushing at through his jeans.

"Don't make me beat you again, stud. I'm tired and horny."

"I can go with the horny." Mac leaned right over and kissed him, pressing down against his mouth. A better use for it than sarcasm.

His eyes flew open and he went still for about half a second before he started kissing back, diving right on in and tasting the lingering flavor of ice cream in Mac's mouth. Mac's free hand cupped the back of his head, holding him still. The other one was anything but still, rubbing up against him, hot even through the cloth. Oh, damn. He could handle this. His legs spread, the ache in his cock superseding any bitching from his muscles.

"Mmm. Nice. Wanna see now, huh?" Mac didn't waste any time. The man just started unzipping and pulling and pushing.

His cock jerked, waving like it had a little horndog mind of its own.