Sunday, 29 June 2014

Wednesday Briefs Special Event - Rainbow on Board

The day has finally arrived! The Beth Wylde Event begins very soon, so head off over to Beth Wylde Yahoo Group to meet the flashers, ask questions, read snippets of information, engage in conversation and win prizes. Many of the authors are giving away copies of their books, and we are giving away three $25 Amazon gift cards

Don't forget you need to join the group before you can join in the fun - so go ahead. Do it now. Can't wait to see you there.

Many of us have written themed flashes based on the same gay cruise. Here is mine.




Bow was entranced. The perpetual chatter that had irritated Thorne and Cammy in the car had been replaced by awed silence. It was simply too much for him to process.

“There are so many windows,” he whispered, at last. “It’s so shiny. And there are pink lights.”

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Cammy breathed, gazing up at the cruise ship. Thorne smiled indulgently at his two boyfriends. They were so different in many ways, and so similar in others.

“Hurry up,” Bow urged, “I want to get on the ship. I really want to get on the ship.”

“You’ve changed your tune,” Thorne said. “I thought it was way too big and scary for you.”

Bow tilted his head and gazed up at Thorne through his indecently long lashes. “I’ve been thinking about it,” he said, “and I have some ideas for how you can reassure me when I get scared.”

“Y-you have?” Thorne swallowed, wondering if he’d got the wrong idea. That look had been… hot.

“Mhm.” Bow rubbed his cheek against Thorne’s leg. “The boat’s quite small, really. I’ll probably be able to walk most of the time. We can stroll on the deck thingy in the moonlight, and Cammy can help. And if it gets too hard, you can carry me back to our…. What’s it called, Cammy?”

“Cabin. Carry on. I like where this is going.”

“You can carry me back to our cabin, and we can… do all kinds of things we’ve never done before.”

“I thought you weren’t ready to do those things.” Thorne’s heart thudded in his chest, just thinking about… things.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I was too young. You know that. I wasn’t allowed. I’m grown up now. Well, almost—and Luke isn’t here.” Bow tucked his rainbow-coloured hair behind his ear and fluttered his eyelashes.

“The moment you turned eighteen, you turned into a monster.”

Bow giggled. “That’s just what I’m going to be—a monster in the sack.”

“What did you say?” Cammy gasped, his eyes wide.

“Isn’t that right? I’ve been… uh… researching.”

“O… kay.”

Bow reached for Cammy’s hand. “I know you’ve wanted to do it for a long time, and I’ve been a prune. But I talked to Star, and we agreed this would be a good time to bite our cherries.”
Cammy choked, and put his hand over his mouth. “It’s prude, Bow, not prune, and I think the words you’re looking for are ‘pop our cherries’.”

“Don’t be silly, cherries don’t pop. Do they, Thorne?”

“What?” Thorne had been staring at Bow, but only heard half of what he’d said. “Bow… did you say you’ve been talking to Star about sex?”

“Why not? He’s my brother. I’m not going to talk to Dad about it. I hardly know him.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with our precious Rainbow?” Cammy asked, stifling a giggle.

“I’m here,” Bow said cheerfully, “just the same, but less prunish.”


“Whatever. I’m not that anymore.”

“How fast can we get to the cabin?” Cammy asked. “Let me take the chair, I’m faster than Thorne.”

“Whoa there.” A man standing at the top of the ramp stopped them. “You need a run-up on that side, but it’s a different story going down. Do you want a hand with that?”

Cammy growled at him. “I may be small, but I’m strong. I can manage.”

The man grinned at them. “I’m not suggesting you’re not strong, but I’ve seen enough chairs go over to know that no matter how strong you are, gangplanks are not easy to negotiate. I know all the lumps and bumps that cause trouble.”

The man, whose name they discovered was Mark, chatted cheerfully as he helped them manoeuvre Bow’s chair down the ramp and all the way to the cabin. They were surprised to find their luggage had arrived before them and had been unpacked and neatly stored.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Nothing but the best for our star guests,” Mark said, cheerfully.

“I’m not a star,” Bow said, “Thorne is. Oh and Star, of course, and Orbit and…Well, all of Cosmic Explosion. That’s a band, you know. Star’s band. He’s my brother.”

“Oh, I know who Cosmic Explosion is.  Everyone knows who Cosmic Explosion is, but on this ship, everyone is a star. Right, I’d better get back. If I stay away too long, someone’s going to fall off the ramp, and I’ll be in trouble.”

“You won’t really get into trouble, will you?” Bow asked anxiously. “Not for being kind to us?”

“No, I won’t get into trouble, I promise. There’s a brochure on the table, and an interactive programme on the television, telling you what’s going, for the whole of your stay. Once you’re settled, you might like to take a swim in the Poseidon Pool, or relax in the spa. They’re just the thing after a long journey.”

“Ooh, that sounds nice. Maybe later. I’m going to be… um… eating cherries with Cammy and Thorne for a while.”

Cammy choked, and Thorne turned away so the steward wouldn’t see the blush on his face. Appearing slightly confused, Mark left with a cheerful farewell and promise to see them again later.

As soon as the door closed, Bow got to his feet and sidled up to Cammy. He was much stronger on his feet now, over a year after the shooting.  He still limped, but rarely needed the chair, except when chronic fatigue literally swept the legs from under him. It made him seem frail, even though that was far from the truth. 
Everyone hoped he’d improve quickly in the relaxed atmosphere on the ship.

Cammy slipped his arm around Bow’s waist. “What does the most beautiful boyfriend in the whole world want to do now?” he asked in a husky voice.

Thorne put his arms around Bow from behind. “Yes, do tell, beautiful boyfriend.”

Bow gave a wicked grin and showed them.

Friday, 27 June 2014

Tequila Mockingbird by Rhys Ford

I am a total fan of Rhys Ford's work. I mean fangirl fan. I don't know where I got the nerve to ask for an interview, but I did, and here she is. 

Tequila Mockingbird (Sinners #3)

Lieutenant Connor Morgan of SFPD’s SWAT division wasn’t looking for love. Especially not in a man. His life plan didn’t include one Forest Ackerman, a brown-eyed, blond drummer who’s as sexy as he is trouble. His family depends on him to be like his father, a solid pillar of strength who’ll one day lead the
Morgan clan.

No, Connor has everything worked out—a career in law enforcement, a nice house, and a family. Instead, he finds a murdered man while on a drug raid and loses his heart comforting the man’s adopted son. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about men — it’s just loving one doesn’t fit into his plans.

Forest Ackerman certainly doesn’t need to be lusting after a straight cop, even if Connor Morgan is everywhere he looks, especially after Frank’s death. He’s just talked himself out of lusting for the brawny cop when his coffee shop becomes a war zone and Connor Morgan steps in to save him.

Whoever killed his father seems intent on Forest joining him in the afterlife. As the killer moves closer to achieving his goal, Forest tangles with Connor Morgan and is left wondering what he’ll lose first—his life or his heart.

Purchase Tequila Mockingbird at: Dreamspinner Press


First off, thank you very much for having me. I appreciate the time and space you’re allowing me so thank you!

Out of all the characters you’ve written which one has affected you most? Not necessarily which one you like most, but which one ‘got to you’?

Wow, I’d have to say Kismet from The Four. That’ll be published by Dreamspinner Press in 2015. But yeah, Kismet. Whose last name I might have to change. I think I might have made it Andrade but used that for Rafe. So…. Woot, conflict!

Which character caused you most difficulty to write?

Not so much characters as scenes. I hate writing sex scenes because I know that I’m going to repeat something. Or at least that’s a fear of mine. The dreaded…did I do this already? Sooooo frightening. It has to be interesting and unique to the characters as well as forward the story. So not so much characters as what they do in bed. Or on tables.

When do you do your best writing… morning, afternoon, evening, night?

Ah, once again. Mostly the time doesn’t matter so much as the environment. I like submerging myself into a near sensory-deprivation state with only music, headphones and the occasional cat tail across my keyboard. I get interrupted a lot when I write—which does two things… irritate me slightly and jerks me out of that state. It also takes me a few minutes to readjust realities. So it’s like I’m a drunken, grumpy garden gnome if I’m writing and have to stop mid stream.

Which story caused you the most difficulty to write?

Whiskey and Wry. I actually had to toss out 45,000 words from that book. You see, I’d started it at the wrong point and discovered I was writing towards a scene. If that happens, then yeah, out it goes. Wrong starting point. Always start at the right starting point.

Which character is most like yourself?

I’ve been told Miki—which is a hell of a lot of truth. But also Quinn. I’m kind of excited about writing for Quinn because I can use a lot of things I stumble across in my brain for him. It’ll be either great or suck donkey ass to write.

Do you have any music that you associate with a character or scene?

Wow. I have so much music I listen to. I don’t have any specific band or such earmarked for a character or scene. I do write while listening to things in the tone of what I’m writing—so that usually determines what’s playing. I’ve been listening to instrumentals of late… very thoughtful crap. A far cry from Metallica or Tool which I bust out for action scenes. VAST and Black Rebel Motorcycle sometimes for sex scenes. G-Dragon and a few others for other stuff. It really varies.

Do you plan your stories and, if so, to what extent?

Oh I plan them extensively and then it all goes to shit and hell after a few turns. So I’ve sort of sketched out books now and hope for the best. Stuff happens along the way. It’s not my fault.

Do you plan your characters?

Yes, and this I actually stay very true to. I plan out personalities and traits as well as flaws so I have a clear picture of who I’m writing. This is probably the most important thing for me while I write.

How many times have you started a story and abandoned it?

Abandon? Never. Swear and set on fire and start over or rearrange? All the time. If something isn’t working off the main idea, then the fault lies in how I constructed the story and characters. Those need fixing and then
I’m off and running.

How many stories do you work on at any one time?

One. And I write in a straight line. Chapter One, word one till Fin.

Are there any hidden messages in any of your stories?

Rarely but I do leave shout outs to other authors in them and a lot of pop culture references. Kind of a wink-wink nudge-nudge know-what-I-mean thing.

Do you have any other hobbies?

I have no hobbies. I have no life. Really. I have 2.5 full time jobs. I think I’m going to take up sleeping as a hobby.

Um, I read. Which becomes work. I do cook a lot. I enjoy cooking. Driving is also nice. Alone time is always good.

What is your most treasured possession?

I cannot even begin to answer this. Seriously. Wow. Um…shit. I’d say my car? I have a 1979 Pontiac Firebird but see, if something happened to it but everyone I knew was okay, I’m fine with that. I’d mourn things but really, they’re things.

Maybe my laptop? It’s got everything on it but see, I back that shit up. So… there you go. I don’t count my cats and dog as possessions.

What one thing in life can you not do without (coffee? Music? Sex?)

Coffee, music, books, friends and stupid things I find on the internet. Mostly coffee. I’m pretty sure if you cut me, I bleed coffee beans.

Is there anything you’d like to tell us about your stories, plans, other works in an orgy of blatant self promotion feel free.

Be excellent to each other.

Okay, let’s see. I’ve got Tequila Mockingbird coming out or is already out. It drops June 27th from Dreamspinner Press. And there’s going to be three more releases this year; Duck Duck Ghost (Hellsinger 2), Creature Feature 2 which I cowrote with Poppy Dennison and Down and Dirty which is Bobby and Ichi from the Cole McGinnis series.

I’m working on Down and Dirty right now and after I’m done with that, I’m working on a new series which I haven’t even named yet so woooot! But I’ll be starting that soon.

Thank you again for having me and please, let’s not be strangers!


Rhys Ford was born and raised in Hawai’i then wandered off to see the world. After chewing through a pile of books, a lot of odd food, and a stray boyfriend or two, Rhys eventually landed in San Diego, which is a very nice place but seriously needs more rain. Rhys admits to sharing the house with three cats of varying degrees of black fur and a ginger cairn terrorist. Rhys is also enslaved to the upkeep a 1979 Pontiac Firebird, a Toshiba laptop, and an overworked red coffee maker.

Thursday, 26 June 2014

Circle of Dishonor by Carla Swafford

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Carla will award one copy of CIRCLE OF DISHONOR at every stop to a randomly drawn commenter, and a $25 Amazon/BN GC to one randomly chosen winner via Rafflecopter during the tour. Please click the banner to see the other stops on this tour.

John “Ice” Takahashi’s final job for The Circle has an unexpected hitch in it; he’s fallen for an innocent civilian and his enemies know it. With his mission in a shambles, he’ll do anything to protect her, including kill. So how can a man without honor prove he’s worthy of her love?

Lena Matthews feels like she’s playing with fire by dating the mysterious Master J. He’s exotic, dangerous, and exactly what she needs in her boring life. With the bad guys bearing down on them, she discovers a whole new world of sensuality that binds her heart to his forever.

Now enjoy an excerpt:

John Takahashi, also called Ice in the more deadly corners of the world, watched from the shadows as the woman slid into her Nissan Altima. He wanted to be certain she safely reached her car.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

A burly fellow strolled by Lena’s car and continued to the next lane without glancing her way. John’s hold eased up. If the man had attempted to attack her, bloody fat limbs would be scattered across the parking lot within seconds. He’d never allow anyone to harm her. Hell, if the man only spoke to her, John was unsure of his reaction. He’d never felt this way before. Possessiveness wasn’t his usual response. He only knew she belonged to him.

From the first moment he saw her five weeks ago, intently watching him from the coffee shop, he’d decided to meet her. Her contradicting shyness and boldness amused him. The two times he’d allowed her to see him watching her, she’d looked away, blushing. He liked that. From the way she walked and held herself, he suspected she was a woman used to taking orders from a man. After being with so many women with that certain need, he had a sixth sense about such matters.

His contacts reported that her husband had died three years earlier. She wasn’t a flirt and hadn’t dated during that period. She dressed stylishly but modestly. Her hours were spent working in her house and in the flower beds surrounding her home. Occasionally, she had lunch with friends and attended charity functions, but nothing more.

Of course, their time in the coffee shop had been a test. If she’d been too timid or too bold, their time together would have ended without a dinner invitation. He wanted a woman willing to take commands but strong enough to demand what she needed in return.

Carla Swafford is a lithe twenty-nine year old with long auburn hair and sparkling dark eyes who loves dancing with her gypsy friends. Geez! Can you tell I love writing fiction? Now for the real stuff: I'm married to my high school sweetheart and live in Alabama. I swear my stories are more exciting.

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Wednesday, 25 June 2014

Wednesday Brief Cyan Ch 10

Well what do you know, another Wednesday and another flash. This week I chose the prompt

It's in less in the sense of time flying but more the past catching up. I also have a character jogging

The day passed in relative peace, except that Gillian wouldn’t leave Robin alone.
When her initial attempt to persuade him that he hadn’t really meant to break up with her didn’t work, she tried to wheedle her way into friendship. That was harder to get out of.

“Nothing good will come of it,” Aivah warned him, and he knew she was right, but what could he do?

It certainly seemed that Gillian was making more of an effort to be civil to Cyan, but she still couldn’t help little barbs shooting out. It was clear she didn’t like him, and was only suffering him because she knew full well she would be out of the group once and for all if she didn’t.

On the up side, Gillian’s re-inclusion into the group, and her civility toward Cyan did a lot to influence the general mood of the school toward him.

Once he realized he was no longer the focus of negative attention, Cyan began to relax and his whole personality seemed to change. He morphed from someone who was polite and pleasant, but quiet and reserved, to someone who was eloquent, funny and academically brilliant.

If Robin had enjoyed his company before, he now hung on every word and gesture. It seemed as if the light in the classroom, which had been dimmed by the gloomy weather outside, had suddenly got a lot brighter. Even Gillian seemed to forget her animosity for a time.

The pattern continued over the next few days, and Robin began to think things were going to be okay. Now he’d relaxed and was showing his true character, Cyan was beginning to charm everyone.
The little group of friends grew and. Robin knew he should be happy that Cyan was making so many new friends, but there was something bitter about the fact Cyan’s focus was no longer entirely on him. That wasn’t t say he didn’t still stay close to Robin whenever he could, or that his eyes didn’t light up every time Robin came into the room. It was just that he didn’t seem to need him anymore, not really.

Having examined his feelings, Robin decided they were entirely selfish. Why shouldn’t Cyan have his own friends? Why should he always rely on Robin for his security? Objectively, he could see he was being unreasonable and unfair, but that didn’t change a thing. He still bristled whenever anyone else dominated Cyan’s attention or dared to lure him away for some activity that didn’t involve Robin.

Part of the feeling, Robin decided, was that he still wasn’t entirely certain they weren’t sitting under a sword of Damocles. He was absolutely certain that Gillian had something up her sleeve. He couldn’t tell whether it involved Cyan or not, and she was doing her very best to hide it, but something was definitely up with her.

On Friday morning, Robin met Cyan at the gate as usual and walked down into the school side by side. They were surrounded by the usual morning bustle, and no one really paid them any mind. Cyan was excited about something he’d read the night before, and was talking non-stop. He didn’t notice the atmosphere change, but Robin did.

By the time they entered the school building, almost every eye was on them, and there was a lot of whispering going on. Robin groaned inwardly. Oh no. What had she done? He had no doubt whatever was going on had something to do with Gillian. Neither did he have any doubt that it was going to be real trouble. The only thing he was unsure of, was whether it was directed at him or Cyan. He prayed it was him. He was 

As they walked along the corridor toward the sixth form common room, Cyan caught on that something was wrong, and looked around him at the silent, staring children.

“What’s going on?”

“I have no idea. Hey, what are you staring at?” The girl Robin had shouted at stared at him with wide eyes, then turned and fled.

Then they passed a little knot of boys and one of them said, loud enough to be heard. “Got what he deserved. Fag.”

Robin was going to stop and have it out with the boy. To tear a strip off him for using that word and to find out what was going on when a call from ahead drew his attention.

“Robin.” It was Alex. He jogged down the crowded corridor toward them. “Get him out of here. Now.”

“What the hell’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you later. He looked around nervously, then dragged Robin through the nearest door. Cyan followed, looking scared.”

“Alex, we can’t go in here,” Cyan said. “It’s a teacher’s room.”

“Don’t worry. None of the teachers will mind today.”

“What’s going on?”

“This.” Alex handed Robin a piece of paper. It looked like a copy of a newspaper article.


“Read it. They’re all over the school.”

Robin frowned, puzzled, then glanced at the heading. His heart stopped and he was almost too afraid to read on. He tried not to look at the picture that accompanied the article.

When he’d finished reading, he scrunched the paper into a ball and squeezed it in his hand, too angry to speak.

“What is it?” Cyan asked, nervously. “What have I done?”

“It’s not what you’ve done.”

“Let me see.”

“No way.”

“I’m going to find out soon enough,” Cyan said reasonably. Robin knew he was right, and wasn’t it better it happened here, with friends to support him? His common sense told him it was the right thing to do. His heart told him Cyan was about to be destroyed and he couldn’t bear it to be by him.

“What is it?” Cyan insisted.

Robin thought of the words that screamed from the paper in his hand. The heading that read –‘Schoolboy Raped and Beaten in Brutal Anti-Gay Attack’

“Gillian,” he spat with venom.

Now, why don't you go ahead and read the rest of the flashes. You'll find them all, with a teaser of their work at

Sunday, 22 June 2014

Wednesday Briefs Event

If you're a fan of the Wednesday Briefs, or even if you're just curious or want to meet some of the best m/m writers around, head on over to the Beth Wylde Yahoo Group on Sunday 29th June.

You'll get to meet and chat with the briefers, win prizes, ask questions, read exclusives briefs all centered around the same cruise ship, during the same fun gay cruise, and oh so much more.

Come join us for a day of fun and frolics. Can't wait to see you there.

The Edge Series by L M Somerton

Blurb(s): The Edge is a training company with a difference. Its weekend clients come for classes in bondage and domination, not team building and problem solving.

The management, staff and customers of The Edge do not lead boring lives. In fact they have a habit of getting themselves into all kinds of trouble. Put Dominant, possessive alpha males together with bratty, loveable submissives and sparks are bound to fly. These Tales from The Edge are their stories.

Cover Artist: Emmy Ellis
Publisher: Totally Bound

Reaching the Edge:

When you reach the edge, you can't avoid taking a leap of faith.

Joe Dexter leads a complicated life. In one world he is a consultant criminal psychologist—in another he runs The Edge, a successful corporate training company. He's also an active Dom in the London BDSM scene.

A social call to The Underground, a club owned by an old friend, turns into much more when Joe is introduced to a prospective sub. Falling hard for the boy's tumbling blonde curls, huge blue eyes and desperate need for protection, Joe carefully coaxes him out of his shell. By the end of an intense weekend, unbreakable bonds have been forged and Joe is well on the way to becoming Olly's Master.

Joe knows that there is trauma in Olly's past, but it is not until his professional and private lives collide that Joe discovers the truth. He knows he shouldn't have let Olly out of his sight but it's too late—Olly's old Master is back on the scene and he's not in the mood to forgive and forget.

With Olly's life on the line, Joe risks everything to save him. Has Joe found his perfect submissive only to lose him in a horrible twist of fate, or will love win the day? They've reached the edge and there's no avoiding a leap of faith.

Living on the Edge:

Sometimes it takes willpower to resist temptation but courage to give in.

Aiden Keller is a brilliant and intriguing young man. When he's convicted of hacking, his sentence takes him to The Edge, a high-end corporate training company with a mysterious sideline. There he is given into the custody of its owner, the enigmatic and demanding Heath Anders, and his business partner Joe Dexter.

From the moment Heath takes charge of Aiden he recognises the boy's submissive nature, even though it is well hidden beneath a veneer of snarky attitude. But for twelve months, Aiden will be his responsibility and Heath cannot allow himself to get involved whilst the boy is obliged to obey him.

Aiden settles into his new life with the help of Olly, Joe's pretty, submissive boyfriend, who is very perceptive when it comes to noticing the sparks of attraction flying between Aiden and Heath. Slowly and gently, he teaches Aiden that submission is not a weakness and to accept his desire to be dominated.

Unable to resist, Heath starts to test Aiden's willingness to be obedient, and against all the odds, love (and lust) start to bloom. Aiden, however, is not quite what he seems and his past is about to endanger all their lives.

Dancing on the Edge:

Life is a dance. Whether you lead or follow, the passion of it should sweep you away.

Carey and Alistair have the kind of relationship that is the envy of their friends. Carey is an old-fashioned Dom who appreciates quiet obedience. Alistair is a sub who is comfortable in his skin and finds peace in his submission. Needless to say, their happiness is too good to last.

When Alistair's powerful father chooses his reputation over his son, all hell is let loose. Forcibly committed to a clinic for reversion therapy, Alistair can only hope that his lover will save him.

Carey calls on his friends from The Edge and they band together not just to rescue Alistair but also to protect his future. They've all flirted with danger in the past—but friendship is worth any risk. As the tension mounts and the stakes get higher, new bonds are forged but will Carey and Alistair's love survive?

A Double-Edged Sword:

How do you stay standing when the ground is torn from beneath your feet?

Becket and Christian are taking the first, tentative steps towards the committed D/s relationship they both crave when the world literally explodes around them. In a frightening reversal of roles, Becket has to deal with his own vulnerability and Christian must find the strength to take care of his Dom. With the help of their friends at The Edge, the two men come to realise that dominance and submission cannot be switched on and off.

Events that could have ended in tragedy provide the catalyst that affirms their trust in each other, but there are still questions to answer. Is the safe path always the right one to take? Is control simply a state of mind?

One thing’s for certain, life’s too short for compromise

Author Bio: 

L M lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.

She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She's fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.

Author Links: Pinterest

Twitter: @lmsomerton

Excerpt - Book 1

“I like chains.”

Oops. That had slipped out accidentally.

“Did I say that aloud?” Olly felt himself go hot all over.

“Mmm. You did.” Joe encircled him with his arms from behind. “It’s something we have in common.”

Olly whimpered as Joe’s exploring fingers reached his nipples and pinched them both at the same time.

“These would look pretty clamped and chained.”

Joe rubbed small circles round and round, occasionally flicking the hard raised nubs until Olly wanted to scream. Every touch sensitised the flesh more and sent lines of fire to his swollen cock. Joe trailed one finger in a line to his groin. “Perhaps another chain to a nice metal ring here?” With the pad of his fingertip, he circled the root of Olly’s cock just once, so lightly that it was barely a touch at all. “Would you like that, Oliver? To be decorated in chains for me?”

Olly yanked hard on his wrist cuffs. He was desperate to touch himself, but the chain was far too short. Joe remained behind him, pressed close to his back, stroking everywhere but the place Olly really needed him to touch.

“Look in the mirrors, Olly. How does it make you feel, knowing that I can do anything I want to you? Touch you anywhere and everywhere.”

On the last word, Joe stepped back and grasped Olly around the waist. With his legs forced apart by the spreader bar, Olly couldn’t even attempt to get away as Joe stroked his hips with tantalising tenderness.

“Look at your cock, swollen and dripping. Your arse—so perfectly tempting. What do you want, Olly? Would you like me to bend you over the rail and fuck you?”

Olly couldn’t manage anything more than a squeak as Joe moved to cup his arse, then stroked each cheek gently. Then Joe was gone and Olly had to grip the rail to maintain his balance and stay upright. He watched with wide eyes as Joe went to the cupboard and came back with a pump bottle of glistening lube.

“Hold this.” Joe pushed the bottle into his shaking hands. “Pump some onto my fingers.”

Olly could barely do as he’d been asked, but eventually managed to release a shiny puddle into the palm of Joe’s hand. Then he was being bent over the rail. The bottle fell to the floor as Joe wrapped his slick hand around Olly’s cock and spread the silky lubrication over his shaft and around his balls.

“Please… Sir!”

Joe picked up the bottle and slicked his fingers again. He placed it carefully on the floor, then pushed Olly against the rail, holding him there with one arm. Olly squirmed and panted as lube smeared his arse, then Joe dragged his cool finger down the line between Olly’s cheeks to probe gently at the tight bud of his entrance. He gripped the rail like a lifeline. His body demanded more, craving sensation and pleasure. His mind, however, screamed with alarm.

Joe gripped his swollen shaft and began to jack him slowly before moving to cup his aching balls and roll them gently. He was still rubbing Olly’s pucker, not breaching him, just stroking and smoothing. Olly could feel his muscles tensing and started to panic. His body rebelled, thrusting hard into Joe’s hand, demanding release, but his mind flashed back to another time, another man with a different face.

“No… No!” Tears flooded his face as he came with a desperate shudder into Joe’s hand. Then he was being held close and tightly, his hair stroked, his neck kissed gently.

“It’s all right, Olly. I’m not going to…”

In just a few seconds Joe had swiftly unbuckled the cuffs from his ankles and wrists, then Olly found himself gathered into a warm embrace. Somewhere inside him, a wall broke down and he sobbed into Joe’s chest. He couldn’t look at him and the sobs came anew as he realised that he had just destroyed any chance he’d ever had of being with this wonderful, beautiful man.

Sales Links

Taking part in the book tour, each with their own individual excerpt, are

June 24: The Hat Party
June 25: Hearts on Fire
June 28: Iyana Jenna
June 29: Tara Lain
June 30: Velvet Panic
July 2: Elisa Rolle
July 3: MM Good Books

Rafflecopter Code: a Rafflecopter giveaway

Friday, 20 June 2014

Happy Birthday Flying With Redhaircrow

On July 1st Flying with Red Haircrow will be four years old. To celebrate, there will be some very special free giveaways. From July 1st until the end of the month, the following will be free on Smashwords.

  • The Agony of Joy, winner Global Ebook Awards 2013, Best LGBT Fiction
  • Silence Is Multi-Colored in my World, winner, Rainbow Awards, 2012, Best Gay Biography/Memoir
  • CORE: A poetry collection
  • Variance, which is my collected short stories, from rated All to Mature, not all but some are LGBT related
  • The Runaway, A book on love, life and the price of fame by Nephylim

CORE is a poetry collection with themes of suicide, loss and grief, but also of courage, joy and deeply passionate love. It is a journey of healing and survival that has taken the author around the world. It is the revealing of darkness and light, of beauty and hideousness, and a reliance on the strength of one's ancestors and their beliefs to inspire hope and perseverance. 

VARIANCE. From the author of "The Agony of Joy", winner of a 2013 Global Ebook Award Best LGBT Fiction, Variance is a collection of ten short stories and novellas by Red Haircrow ranging from the contemporary to the fantasy, from the surreal and thought-provoking to the innocently poignant.

AGONY. Former model turned actor Adrian Lee can barely list age range '23-29' on his resumé anymore nor stand his life of empty social events and appearances, meaningless roles and casual partners. When he meets Alexander Skizetsky by clever arrangement of his agent, the enigmatic yet infinitely attractive Russian kindles a little light of hope in his aching heart. Yet even the beginnings of a friendship and love beyond his wildest dreams cannot assuage a life spiraling out of control.

SILENCE. An imaginative collection of memories and observations written from the perspective of a young man who was orphaned early, who was gay, deaf and Russian. He was simple and complex, light-hearted and serious, whimsical and infinitely strong, and when he loved, he loved with all his heart and soul. Winner in Rainbow Awards 2012 category: best biography/memoir.

THE RUNAWAY. Ciarrai is running away from a past that’s still breathing down his neck. Jack has no past, his memory wiped in the accident that killed his parents. They meet and their lives move forward like stones skimming the surface of the water, dipping into memories that want to surface and those that want to lie buried forever.

Red Haircrow is an award-winning author/poet, chef and activist/photojournalist of Chiricahua Apache/Cherokee descent who lives in Berlin, Germany. Red is also a psychological counselor, publicist and owner of the multi-media entity Flying With Red Haircrow. Red's works have appeared in magazine such as Sibling Rivalry Press' Assaracus, Sword & Saga's American Athenaeum, Danse Macabre, and native current events network, Indian Country Today.

Main website:
Other links:

Book Links 

Wednesday, 18 June 2014

Wednesday Brief - Cyan - Chapter 9

It seems like forever since I last posted a brief. My computer got kidnapped, in that it went to the doctor for a new keyboard and general clean up but the shop was closed for a over a week due to illness and it was trapped in there, with me out here pressing my nose against the window :) Metaphorically speaking, of course. Now wasn't that interesting. It's past 1am and I should be in bed. I initially typed metaphorically sleeping and I think my inner mind is sending me a pretty clear message here, so once this is up I'm off to the land of nod - well I hope I am. My son has a bad cough and we've been three nights with pretty much no sleep - which is probably why I'm rambling.

Anyway. I'm back and here is this week's instalment of Cyan when we learn a little more about what's going on inside his head - but not from him.

I apologise that I haven't included a prompt, on the basis I lost them and Julie has been way too busy getting this whole thing up and running that I haven't got them re sent in time. On this occasion, at least, the fact I write before the prompt comes in handy.

When Cyan had gone, Robin drifted back to class, feeling far more upset than the situation warranted. The headmaster had been less than forthcoming with what the hell was going on, and Cyan wasn’t up to talking about it either. Whatever happened had clearly happened before, because Cyan’s mother obviously had the feathers and material ready. What the hell was with that?

Robin found Aivah in the common room and plonked down on the seat next to her, with his feet up on the edge of the table.

“What’s up? Where’s Cyan?”

“Gone home.”

“Home? Why?”

robin tried to explain as best he could what happened. Aivah smiled and nodded. “Ah,” she said.

“What do you mean ‘ah’? Do you have an idea of what happened, because I’m sure as hell I don’t.”

“Sounds like he had an anxiety attack. Autistic people like bright colours and different textures. I guess that’s what the feathers and fabrics are for – to calm him down.”

“How do you know?”

“I looked it up.”

“You what?”

“Well, when I told my mother about Cyan, she said she thought he was probably autistic, so I googled it and read loads of stuff. Did you know Tim Burton’s autistic. He’s one of my heroes. Andy Warhol was too, and Lewis Carroll who wrote Alice in Wonderland. Loads of famous people are. It’s so sad though. Because they’re kind of wired different to us they’re given all kind of unkind labels when they’re really quite fascinating and brilliant. Do you think Cyan will mind if I ask him questions about it?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Cyan.”

“Of course. I will. You should read about it, Robin, especially if you’re going to be Cyan’s friend.”

“I…guess so.”

That night, Robin did what Aivah suggested, and looked up autism. There’s a lot of information out there. Aivah was right, there are a lot of well-known people who’re on the spectrum. That was one of the first things he learned – that autism isn’t just one condition but a whole spectrum of different conditions that range from severe, where there is no speech or interaction, to high functioning autism, or Asperger Syndrome, which seems to be a different name for the same thing.

There are lots of common traits, like facial tics, linear and logical thought, inability to read body language, and awkwardness in social situations. There are also sensual differences, like very sensitive hearing, or touch. That was probably why Cyan didn’t like to be touched – and why he liked to stroke the little scraps of velvet.

It was a fascinating couple of hours, after which Robin concluded that Cyan simply didn’t see and experience the world the same way he did. There was no point trying to understand Cyan or expect Cyan to understand him, because they were working from different frames of reference they’d just have to find a middle ground and do the best they could.

Another thing Robin discovered about autism was that it went hand in hand with anxiety, probably because people had to work so hard to try to fit into a world they didn’t understand and that didn’t want to understand them. Just like school, really. No one wanted to help people fit in. Either you did or you didn’t, and if you didn’t you weren’t their problem.

Right then Robin made a promise to himself. He was going to make damn sure Cyan fit in, or at least felt as if he did. Yes, he was weird, and intense, and even a little scary sometimes, but God he was beautiful and that had very little to do with how he looked. There was something about him, something pure and simple that made Robin feel good to be around him. He was…clean. Maybe that was a weird way to put it, but it was what popped into Robin’s head.

Robin wasn’t expecting Cyan to be in school the next day, but he was waiting for him at the gate. There was no sign of his mother.

“Are you feeling better?” Robin asked.

“Yes. I have…um…episodes. That’s what the doctor calls them. My mother used to call them tantrums but she knows better now. I can’t help it.”

“Is it like an anxiety attack?”

Cyan looked at Robin thoughtfully. He didn’t know what he was thinking about – whether he was wondering how Robin knew about anxiety attacks, or whether he was pondering if it was one.

“Yes,” he said at last, “sort of. It was only a little one yesterday because I knew what to do and my mum brought my stuff. Sometimes I freak out a bit—“ He paused. “A lot.”

“I’ll help you, if it does.”

They were walking down the hill from the car park into the school, surrounded by other children, coming from the buses. Cyan stopped in the middle of it all, and turned to stare at Robin. “Do you mean that?” he asked after a long, tense moment. “Will you really help me? You won’t freak out and run away?”

He said it as if it had happened before and Robin felt bad for him, to have put his trust in someone who let him down when he needed them so much. “I can’t promise I won’t freak out, but I can promise I won’t run away.”

Cyan gave Robin a sudden bright grin. “That’s okay then.” He started walking again, as if he was totally unaware of the stares and comments of the people who hadn’t appreciated the sudden stop. “We should work on the history project today. I found some notebooks last night. I knew I had them somewhere. There are lots of details, dates and stuff.”

“You were looking up homework last night? After what happened?”

“It doesn’t last long, Robin. I have medicine to take that calms me down. I sleep for a couple of hours and then I’m fine. It probably won’t happen again for ages.”

“That’s a relief.”

Okay, now go check out the rest of the flashers. I may not have been active for the last couple of weeks but I have been actively reading and these stories are seriously good. You won't get quality free fiction like this anywhere else.