Guest Author: Grace R. Duncan!

This is the twelfth and last stop on the Music Clues part of the blog tour. Links to all the stops can be found on my website at the blog tour page:

I’m a huge music fan and when I sat down to write Patience, I’d figured out pretty quickly that Chad was, as well. He absolutely loves 80s music and has a tendency to quote (or, rather, refer to them since I didn’t want to get into copyright trouble) the songs. Twelve of those 80s songs were referenced by Chad throughout Patience.

For twelve of the stops on the tour, there will be a clue (the reference) to one of the songs and an answer with excerpt for one of the other songs. You can see which blogs are participating on the blog tour page above.

For today, the answer song is Money for Nothing by Dire Straits.

The clue was: “Even turning off Dire Straits going on about microwaves and TVs didn’t help.”

You can see the video here:


And the excerpt from Patience:

When Jamie’s phone rang and Chad saw Tanner’s number, he had to quell the instinctive jealousy and hope to hell it meant they had tickets. He was just about to outright buy tickets so they could get going.

“Hey, Tanner, what’s up?”

Chad wished right then for the same supersensitive hearing the wolves had. Even turning off Dire Straits going on about microwaves and TVs didn’t help. He had to be content with second-hand conversation, and considering his mate was talking to another man—a gay man, at that—it didn’t sit well with their bond. He took a deep breath and let himself touch Jamie to calm himself.


And the next clue is:

“The song changed, and even he recognized the opening piano chords. A few seconds later, Chad slid across the wooden floor in nothing but underwear, white socks and his button-down shirt. He was holding a hairbrush, not a candleholder, but Jamie knew what he was doing.”


Each tour stop will have an individual prize as well as an entry into the grand prize. Good luck! And thanks for participating!


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Follow tour here.



Jamie Ryan was almost ready to accept he’d never find his destined mate. They’re uncommon to begin with and same-sex versions downright rare. Since his gay best friend found a destined mate, Jamie figured he was out of luck. Until end of semester stress forces him to go through the full-moon shift early. Stuck in wolf form, he runs into none other than his destined mate. Who’s human.

Chad Sutton has always had good instincts. They served him well as a detective and continued on when he went private. Those instincts tell him there’s something about the dog that comes up to him while running away from animal control that isn’t quite right. He works to put the pieces together, but is unsuccessful until his dog turns into a human before his eyes.

Jamie has no idea what a shifter’s mate bite will do to a human. He’s terrified to try—and possibly kill his mate. They hunt together for answers while working together on a case for Chad. It’s easy to see they belong together, but Jamie fears the gods gave him someone he can’t keep.


Buy links: Dreamspinner ◊ Amazon ◊ AReB&N ◊ Kobo



noh8About Grace:

Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination.  She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble.  Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.

A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States.  She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.

As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics.  She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

Find Grace here:

Website  ◊ FacebookTwitterYouTubeGoodreads



Bonus Scene & #Giveaway : A Tested Love by Kayla Jameth!

Today we’re all in for a treat–Kayla Jameth is sharing a bonus scene from her new book A Tested Love! It’s wonderful, so i’ll let you get to it!

ATL Final Cover

A Tested Love Bonus Scene: Homecoming

Aphrodite rose when Apollo did and followed him out onto the cloud-bathed portico. Eros and Himeros bowed to him and Apollo once again felt the passions they incited in his breast. Did Halys not wait for him in his bed Apollo might be tempted to sample the favors of one or both of the winged youths.

But these days, Apollo found himself more interested in mahogany skin and ebony curls. He smiled at the thought of his wanton lover. Halys could stir his blood in ways the gods of lust couldn’t.

He gently grasped fair Aphrodite’s hands and raised them to his lips. The delicate scent of anemones and hyacinths mixed with the hint of the sea on her skin. “I bid you farewell, Lady of Love. Do as you wish with the kryptes and his helot, as long as you do nothing to interfere with my plans for them.”

“Why, Apollo! Do you imagine I would steal them from you?” Her laughter was light and filled with mischief.

“Andreas is already sworn to me and I do not believe you would tear the lovers apart. We both know what it is like to lose a mortal to whom we have entrusted our heart.”

“True.” She gazed over the sea of moonlit clouds. What she saw, he neither knew nor felt the need to press her for.

And if his eyes glittered as hers did, she gave no indication of noticing.

The hollow clop of hooves echoed on the pale marble. A pair of fiery steeds approached, drawing his chariot. A bronzed youth held their bridles as they tossed their heads, snorting with impatience.

Aphrodite beamed at the young man and he flushed with pleasure. Who would not with her attention focused on them?

She followed Apollo the few paces toward his chariot, her slender feet silent. She placed her hand on the youth’s shoulder and trailed her fingers down his golden skin. Apollo watched as goose flesh rose on the mortal’s skin. He had no doubt who would be gracing the goddess’ bed in short order.

“Good even’, my lady.” Apollo inclined his head.

“And to you as well. Do remember me to that delightful daemon of yours.” Her sweet smile turned wicked as if she were imagining just how he would do that.

Apollo’s cock thickened at her words. He almost wished Halys were here with him. The show that scoundrel would give her. And she… well, she would not be offended if they made use of her temple. She would likely consider it her just due and a fitting offering.

Taking the reins in his hands, Apollo stepped up into his chariot. Aphrodite drew her youth back, and Apollo turned his steeds toward Mount Parnassus and his own palace.


Halys knelt on the cool marble of the antrum, awaiting his lord’s return. The doorkeeper had kept watch and informed him when his lord Apollo’s chariot was seen approaching. Halys had hurried to the bench next to the door with a pile of soft cloths and a bronze bowl of warm water.

The torches guttered, throwing wild shadows on the walls. Smoke filled his nostrils and spoke of secret things, passions best shared in the dark. Had the goddess of lust and sex exerted her wiles on his lord?

Jealousy blossomed like a poisonous thing in his chest. How was a demi-god to compete with one of the Olympians?

He was still breathing heavily when Apollo strode through the brass-bound doors of his palace. His gaze swept over Halys as warm as the summer sun or the eternal flame in his temple. The heat licked at Halys’ skin and he squirmed, Aphrodite forgotten. He flushed with desire.

Halys hoped Apollo was unable to see the darkening of his skin, preferring Apollo to think him more coolly wanton than was the truth.

How his brothers would tease him if they knew how unworthy he felt every time he threw himself at the god’s feet. He had never dreamt that his attempts to seduce the Lord of Light would bear, and continue to bear, fruit. Halys could not afford to allow Apollo to see his insecurities, not if he wanted to keep his affections.

He would do whatever was necessary to retain Apollo’s regard.

Apollo settled on the bench, sandal straps winding up well-muscled calves. Halys’ mouth watered at the warm musk rising from the god’s skin. With fingers eager for their task, Halys slowly unwound the leather bindings and stroked Apollo’s legs. He wanted to do so much more for his lord.

Halys dipped a cloth into a bowl of warm rose-scented water and wiped the non-existent dust of his travels from Apollo’s feet. He allowed his hands to wander. Apollo’s muscles bunched and relaxed in his grasp.

Anyone could have performed this service for Apollo, but Halys had been looking for an excuse to kneel before him and touch the god’s pale skin. He craved it more than food and drink.

Apollo sighed and leaned back, allowing Halys to ease between his legs.

Halys leaned forward and kissed Apollo’s knee, working his way up his thigh. “Welcome home, my lord,” he mumbled against him, unwilled to be separated from his goal. He extended his tongue and traced random designs on Apollo’s skin.

His lord moaned and reached for him as his cock thickened before Halys’ eyes. He buried his hands in Halys’ hair, dragging his nails over his scalp. Halys moaned when Apollo grazed one of his sensitive horn buds with a fingertip. He leaned forward, rubbing the little nub against Apollo’s finger.

Drawing a deep breath, Halys forced himself to concentrate. If he did not, he would lose control and embarrass himself. But even then, he almost could not resist Apollo’s touch.

He ran his hands up Apollo’s thighs, shoving his chiton higher, exposing him. Trailing kisses closer and closer to his prize, he breathed in the dark, sultry scent. Halys loved the way golden light seemed to shine through Apollo’s alabaster skin when he was aroused.

Apollo’s balls pulled up tight as first Halys’ breath and then his lips ghosted over his sac. He tongued the wrinkled skin, savoring the taste of his god.

Fisting his hands in Halys’ hair, Apollo drew him close. Halys moaned at the sharp tug and sucked one ball into his mouth at Apollo’s insistence. Apollo’s eyes fell closed as he sucked and rolled it over his tongue.

“Yes… like that….” Apollo breathed out and held him in place. Halys moaned once more and Apollo shuddered as if the sound had torn through his body. The grip on his hair loosened. “Now the other.”

Halys complied, releasing one orb and swallowing the other. He reached up and stroked the first, wondering if he could manage both.

Groaning, Apollo brushed his fingers over his horn bud. Halys moaned around his mouthful and lost himself in sheer bliss as the caress went on and on.

When Halys thought he could stand no more, Apollo clenched his fingers in his curls and drew his head back. Almost reluctantly, Halys released him.

Apollo licked his lips and Halys could not look away.

“I have something else for you to feast on.” Apollo turned his gaze down toward his cock, dancing fitfully in his lap.

Halys smiled. “Oh yessss…. You are ever generous with your gifts, master.”

Tousling his hair, Apollo returned his wicked grin. “Shameless slave!”

“Ah… but that is what you like about me.” Halys pressed his lips to the base of Apollo’s cock.

Apollo groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. Halys loved forcing those raw, needy sounds of desperation out of him—like Apollo would die without his touch.

He licked along the vein throbbing on the underside of Apollo’s shaft. The skin soft and warm over a core every bit as hard as the marble Halys knelt on. He pushed the foreskin down with his lips, exposing the purpled head. The girth was always a bit of a surprise.

Licking and nibbling on the crown, Halys swallowed the ambrosia welling up, the essence sweeter than life. But the droplets were not enough. He needed more, wanted to fill himself with Apollo. Dipping his tongue into the wellspring was of little avail.

Clenching his fists once more in Halys’ hair, Apollo pulled him down to the root. Halys opened his throat to accept his lord. Golden hairs tickled his nose and would have smelled strongly of sex had he been able to breathe.

He relaxed and gave himself over to Apollo. His master had a fine sense for these things.

Apollo slipped one hand to the back of Halys’ head, holding him still. Then once more circled his fingers around Halys’ horn bud. He moaned and nearly choked on Apollo’s cock wedged in his throat.

“Yes! So good.” Apollo drew his fingers upward. His other hand moved to the second nub. “You can pull back any time you wish, but I will stop when you do.”

Halys grew lightheaded from the caresses and lack of breath. Reaching under his chiton, he took his cock in hand. He had to hurry if he were to come before he passed out.

“Hands behind your back, scamp!” Apollo admonished.

With a groan, Halys clasped his wrists at the small of his back and sat up. True to his word, Apollo stopped stroking him. Halys only managed to draw in three huge breaths before Apollo guided him back down to his cock and—oh, thank you lord!—returned to slowly driving him mad.

“Good. So good.”

Halys lost track of how many times Apollo repeated this. He was drooling and panting and unable to think. He wanted to spill his seed at the god’s feet, but with his hands still behind his back could not take that final step over the edge.

“What you do to me. I never imagined….”

Apollo pushed him back, groaning as his cock left Halys’ mouth.

Gasping, Halys knelt, awaiting his master’s command. Apollo’s cock wove and bobbed before his eyes, continuing to cast a spell over him.

Finally, Apollo stirred. “I’m not done with you yet, but I think we should continue in my bed.”


Apollo watched Halys totter somewhat unsteadily toward his bedchamber. Served the rascal right for trying to seduce him in the antrum. Why had he allowed it? He should have sent Halys to his bed as soon as the ritual foot bath had been carried out.

How could something so new tie him in knots like this? He was an immortal, by all that was holy. But all he could think about was Halys’ fingers, lithe and limber on his flesh. His sly smile doing all kinds of unexpected things to Apollo’s belly.

With a groan, he pushed to his feet. His slave awaited him in his bed. More than a bed slave if he were honest. A lover to rival Hyacinthus.

When he pushed the door to his chamber open, Apollo caught his breath at the sight of Halys in all his magnificence. He knelt on the bed with his chest pressed against the mattress, his back arched and his ass in the air. Golden light shone on his naked form—all warm skin and dark good looks.

He glanced over his shoulder, jet eyes glinting and his lips spread in a wicked smile.

Apollo moaned and reached for dusky demi-god, and his cock, impossibly, hardened further. He traced the ebony stripes on Halys’ back, drawing his hands over the firm mahogany expanse. Halys shuddered.

Leaning forward, Apollo kissed the back of the daemon’s neck and smiled at his sigh. He proceeded to lick his way down the markings as they arrowed their way toward Halys’ ass. He bit one cheek and Halys jerked.

“Oh! Not fair, my lord.”

“More than fair. How can you expect me to resist something this exquisite?”

Halys chuckled and shook his head.

Apollo parted the perfect globes. “What have we here?”

Oil gleamed in the furrow of Halys’ ass and coated the puckered ring of his entrance. Halys had made good use of his time while waiting for Apollo to join him.

Apollo drew a finger down the cleft and circled his hole. His body gave readily, eagerly to Apollo’s probing and his finger slipped inside the tight heat.

Halys shivered and a deep groan welled out of him.

“Yes, my lord. Please!”

A dark sultry musk filled Apollo’s nostrils. He knew Halys would be steadily dripping now in anticipation of his release. Halys pressed into his hand, rubbing against Apollo finger. The wanton creature would do just about anything to encourage his touch.

“You may not touch yourself without my permission,” he growled.

Halys whimpered and writhed under him. “Please… lord.”

“Not without my permission.”

“Yes.” He pressed his face against the mattress, tightening his hands on the blankets.

Apollo smiled and rewarded him with another finger, dragging both over the swollen nub within. Halys cried out and slammed back against him, channel clenching on him.

“Would you like more?”

“You know I want you. Do not tease me any longer.”

Even as his cock jumped at the thought of taking his ebon godling, Apollo could not resist stroking that place again. Twisting his fingers, Apollo pressed firmly.

“Please!” Halys’ shout broke off into a raw groan.

Apollo applied sweet almond oil to his cock, squeezing the base and pausing a moment to regain control. He intended to take his time, wring every drop of pleasure out of them both. And if Halys found sitting difficult tomorrow, he could always kneel.

“If you want me inside you, hold yourself open for me.”

Halys turned his head and rested his chest on the mattress. Then first one hand and then the other crept back and grasped his ass. He pulled those perfect globes apart and breathed heavily, eyes tight shut.

Taking a moment to admire the startlingly pink flesh centered in Halys’ crease, Apollo squeezed his shaft again. Soon he would be buried in the sweet heat of Halys’ depths, caressed and cradled in his body. But before he allowed himself that pleasure, he would indulge Halys’ desire to be toyed with, and his insatiable taste for penetration.

“In me, my lord!”

“Patience. I will give you what you need.”

He whined again, but remained in place. Perhaps realizing Apollo’s control was slipping.

Apollo stroked his cock down the length of his cleft and back up. He throbbed painfully and painted Halys’ skin with his desire. Halys pulled himself wider and caught the head of Apollo’s cock in the opening.

“There….” he groaned.

Pushing forward, Apollo dipped the head inside and pulled out.


He pushed in, a little deeper this time, stretching the pink ring around his crown. Halys grunted. Apollo retreated again to Halys’ wail. He continued his relentlessly slow invasion, completely withdrawing every time and forcing Halys’ hole to spread further with the next dip.

“Deeper…. I need to feel you!”

Halys was begging and cursing in a steady stream. Apollo doubted the lovely creature even knew what he was saying by now. Finally, Apollo was deep enough to probe the secret source of Halys’ delight. And probe it he did, reducing his lover to inarticulate grunts, no longer even capable of begging.

Apollo took Halys’ wrists in his hands and slid them forward, holding him down as he covered his back. Biting Halys’ shoulder, he drew back and pushed all the way inside. He paused and Halys shoved back with a shout.

“You will hold your release until I tell you. Understood?” When Halys shifted beneath him, Apollo repeated, “Understood?”

Halys glanced up, inky eyes gleaming under sooty lashes. Blinking like one lost in a dream, Halys opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. He wet his lips and tried again. “Yes,” he croaked. “But I cannot….”

“Yes, you can. Now let me show you.”

Apollo drew back and thrust deep, sharp pushes that forced Halys down against the mattress. He kept up this hard rhythm until Halys began to tighten and thrum under him. Then he slowed, gentling his movements while catching his breath.

Halys objected, his words lost in a groan of frustration. He twisted and attempted to push Apollo deeper. Pinned to the bed, panting, he could do little but accept what his lord gave him.

Kissing his neck and shoulders, Apollo began to pick up speed and drive deeper into the welcoming depths.

“Yes… yes… yes….” Halys chanted hoarsely with every thrust. He wailed when Apollo once more slowed.

“Peace.” Apollo bit his shoulder again, breathing through his mouth. He could not take much more of this himself. The need to fill Halys with his seed was overwhelming. As good as delaying it would be, he would stop denying them both.

“This time.” Apollo released the tenuous grip on his control. He rose onto his knees, pulling Halys up with him. With one hand on the curve of Halys’ hip, he buried the other in the springy curls of Halys’ groin.

Halys’ cock was slippery with desire and so hard that Apollo squeezed the base to prevent him from spilling.

Balls tightening with anticipation, he slammed into Halys over and over. He barely heard Halys’ grunts of pleasure over his own gasps as he gave them what they both wanted, needed.

When he could hold on no longer, Apollo stroked his hand up the length of Halys’ cock, rubbing the dripping head in his palm. Halys choked off a scream.

“Now,” Apollo whispered in his ear and picked up speed.

Halys thrashed and howled, ribbons of seed pouring from him. His channel clamped down on Apollo’s cock in forceful rolling waves. And Apollo finally gave into his release.

With a strength that nearly stunned him, Apollo buried himself within his lover’s body. Heat flooded him, cresting and spilling over into Halys, pumping him full of his essence. Apollo could do little but ride out the surge and swell, twisting in the irresistible, insatiable rush. He never wanted it to end.

But even a god could not prolong something so pure and absolute. With a great shuddering sigh, Apollo’s limbs went slack, all his urgency draining out.

Halys collapsed, dragging Apollo with him. They lay there in a tangle of tingling limbs and panting, gasping breaths.

Leaning forward, Apollo kissed Halys’ slack mouth. Saliva gleamed wetly on his lips. The most depraved and debauched of all creatures, but Apollo’s.


Whew! That was good… Thanks again, Kayla!

Here’s all the info you need to get your copy of A Tested Love!

The Apollo’s Men series is set in 5th century BC Greece. Apollo is gathering warriors and their lovers (m/m) to protect his prophet, the Voice of Apollo. The Spartan arc—A Spartan Love, A Tested Love, and A Shared Love—follows Andreas and Theron as they come to understand one another despite their nearly overwhelming differences. Can a helot and a kryptes co-exist?

Rafflecopter Giveaway: Win a $25 ARe Gift Card. Enter through March 17!

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Buy A Tested Love by Kayla Jameth

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ATL Final Cover
Lured by seductive promises, Andreas risked his life to be with Theron, only to find himself betrayed. Abandoned and alone, Andreas resigns all hope of seeing his fierce warrior again and resumes his life as a helot.

All too aware of the harsh punishment Sparta demands of men who love other men, Theron reluctantly surrenders Andreas in hopes of keeping him safe. The warrior returns to Sparta to embrace his destiny in place of the helot he has grown to see as a man, not just a slave. Cold but honorable duty will be his new lover.

Duty proves to be a jealous lover when Sparta demands the final test of Theron’s loyalty. Sent to kill Andreas, Theron must find a way to come to terms with his burning desire for his handsome helot before their forbidden love destroys them both.



About the Author:

Award winning author of historical romance, including A Spartan Love, Kayla Jameth grew up on the family farm in Ohio. An unrepentant tomboy, she baled hay and raised cattle, and her father taught her to weld before she graduated from high school.

She attended Cleveland’s Case Western Reserve University and later, Texas A&M University in her pursuit of veterinary medicine, taking her far away from her rural roots.

But it wasn’t all hard work for her, her sojourn as the princess of the Celestial Kingdom left her with the title “Sir” and a costume closet the envy of many knights, lords, and ladies.

After declaring for years that she was not an author, Kayla now finds herself writing m/m erotic romance outside of Houston, Texas. While you can take the girl out of the country, you can’t turn her into a city slicker. Kayla would still rather be outside getting down and dirty with the boys.

She shares a full house with her favorite animals: a dog, two guinea pigs, a gerbil, three guppies, as well as her husband, son, and daughter.

For more info on Kayla and her books, visit her Dreamspinner Author Page, catch up with her on Facebook or Twitter.

Sequel to A Spartan Love
Spartan Love: Book Two
The Epics of Apollo’s Men
Pages: 324
Cover Artist: Catt Ford


Guest Author: Joe Cosentino!

Welcome back to Joe Cosentino! Today he’s visiting to talk about his new release, Drama Muscle. I just love this cover!

Hello, Joe. Welcome back!

It’s great to visit again.


It seems like you’ve written a great deal this year.

My friends tease me that I write faster than they can read. My mother said, “I like your books, but maybe you should get a life.” I wonder if Stephen King’s mother said that to him. Hah. My novellas An Infatuation and A Shooting Star did so well as e-books that Dreamspinner Press is releasing them together as a paperback on March 21. So many readers told me those novellas changed their lives, which makes me so proud. Dreamspinner Press also released my holiday short novella taking place on the gorgeous island of Capri, A Home for the Holidays, in December, and they are releasing my gay take on favorite fairytales, The Naked Prince and Other Tales from Fairyland, on January 27.


And Lethe Press is publishing your Nicky and Noah mystery series. Why did you set the series in a university?

As a college professor/department head, I have always been aware that colleges are rife with mystery, romance, and humor. In each book Nicky and Noah eavesdrop, seduce, role play, and finally trap the murderer, as pandemonium, hilarity, and true love ensue for a happily ever after ending—until the next book. The Nicky and Noah mysteries are set in an Edwardian style university founded originally by a gay couple (Tree and Meadow) whose name the university bears: Treemeadow College. It is a gay cozy mystery comedy series, meaning the setting is warm and cozy, the clues and murders (and laughs) come fast and furious, there are enough plot twists and turns and a surprise ending to keep the pages turning, and at the center is a touching gay romance between Associate Professor of Directing Nicky Abbondanza and Assistant Professor of Acting Noah Oliver. Along the way, Nicky and Noah fall in love, as I’ve heard the readers fall in love with them.


When did the first book release?

Drama Queen, released in June as an e-book, paperback, and audiobook with Michael Gilboe performing all twenty-four roles. Reviewers called Drama Queen hysterically funny farce, Murder She Wrote meets Hart to Hart meets The Hardy Boys, and a captivating whodunit with a surprise ending. One reviewer said it was the funniest book of the year! Who am I to argue? In Drama Queen college theatre professors were dropping like stage curtains and amateur sleuths/college theatre professors Nicky and Noah had to use their theatre skills, including impersonating other people, to figure out whodunit. When the e-book reached the Amazon bestsellers list in its category and sold like tickets to The Lion King on Broadway, it was time for another Nicky and Noah mystery.


Which is why you stopped by to visit today. So tell us about Drama Muscle, the current Nicky and Noah mystery.

In Drama Muscle Nicky and Noah don their gay Holmes and Watson personas again to find out who is murdering musclemen in the Bodybuilding Department. In the novel Nicky is directing bodybuilding students in Treemeadow College’s annual Bodybuilding competition on campus. Bodybuilding students and faculty drop faster than barbells until Nicky figures out the identity of the murderer, as well as Noah’s secret revolving around Van Granite, one of the bodybuilding professors. Noah’s hysterically funny parents visit from Wisconsin and are drawn into the action, and Nicky and Noah reach a milestone by the end of the novel.


Why did you set the second novel in the Bodybuilding Department—besides the obvious reason?

As someone who attempted bodybuilding and ended up with a frozen shoulder, pulled lower back, and bruised ego, I have always been fascinated with bodybuilders. The concept of eating protein every two hours, lifting weights for three hours a day, shaving every body part, spray tanning, and posing in tiny gold trunks is amazing to me. When watching a bodybuilding competition on television (okay, maybe more than one) I noticed the link between bodybuilding and theatre. So I realized the second Nicky and Noah mystery would take place in the Bodybuilding Department at Treemeadow College.


Like you, Nicky is an Italian American college theatre professor. Is he based on you?

Actually Martin Anderson, Nicky and Noah’s department head, is based on me. He’s a loyal, hardworking department head and professor who fully supports his faculty colleagues, office assistant, and the students in his department. Like me, he is also a little bit, well quite a bit, of a gossip. Nicky is a terrific character. He has to flirt his way into some places to get certain information, so his handsome face, muscular body, and huge penis (yes!) are definitely assets. Most of all, Nicky uses his theatre skills to impersonate others and his smarts, always a fine asset in an amateur detective. Nicky has such amazing wit, perseverance in the face of adversity, and smarts. I love his sense of determination in not only nabbing the murderer, but also getting his man—Noah. Nicky knows what he wants and how to get it. He is genuinely concerned for others, and he wants to help them. He also has no problem taking on the role of hero. Finally, he is a one-man man, and Nicky is proud to admit that man is Noah Oliver. However, my favorite character in book two is Noah’s mother who is devoted to her son—almost as much as she’s devoted to her camera!


Are the other characters in the book based on your faculty colleagues and students?

My colleagues kid me that if anybody at my college ticks me off, I kill him/her in the series? Hah. To be honest, I like my colleagues and students too much to murder them in my books. The other characters and the location came from my head. As my mother says, “How do you think up all these crazy things? Well, you always were a bit crazy as a kid.”


Which character in the current novel is most unlike you?

Professor of Bodybuilding Van Granite has huge muscles and a chin like granite, but he appears to be after Noah. Since Noah is with Nicky, that’s a definite no-no.


How do you find the time to be a college professor/department head and write all these books?

I’ve cloned myself. Hah. Actually I write in the evenings. Being a little tired helps loosen my creative energies and flow. Plus my spouse has gone to bed, so the house is quiet. The voices in my head are free to take over—and they do!


Is it hard to write comedy?

I’ve always had a funny mind. I can hear almost anything and see the humor in it. I think I get this from my mother. For example, for Christmas one year my parents bought me a sweater and my sister a house. When I asked my mother if I was an orphan, she replied, “Orphans don’t have sweaters. Appreciate what you have.”


Why do you write gay fiction?

Obviously gay stories are part of my life. Also, there are still many untold stories about gay people. Go to the mall and look at the movie posters sans any gay characters on them. However, just as my Jana Lane mystery series with its gay supporting characters has huge crossover appeal for gay people, the Nicky and Noah series with its straight supporting characters has a tremendous amount of crossover appeal for straight people. Besides, everybody likes a clever mystery, a sweet romance, and a good laugh.


Tell us about your Jana Lane mystery series.

I created a heroine who was the biggest child star ever until she was attacked on the studio lot at eighteen years old. In Paper Doll (Whiskey Creek Press), Jana at thirty-eight lives with her family in a mansion in picturesque Hudson Valley, New York. Her flashbacks from the past become murder attempts in her future. Forced to summon up the lost courage she had as a child, Jana ventures back to Hollywood, which helps her uncover a web of secrets about everyone she loves. She also embarks on a romance with the devilishly handsome son of her old producer, Rocco Cavoto. In Porcelain Doll (releasing from The Wild Rose Press on March 15), Jana makes a comeback film and uncovers who is being murdered on the set and why. Her heart is set aflutter by her incredibly gorgeous co-star, Jason Apollo. In Satin Doll (not yet released from The Wild Rose Press), Jana and family head to Washington, DC, where Jana plays a US senator in a new film, and becomes embroiled in a murder and corruption at the senate chamber. She also embarks on a romance with Chris Bruno, the muscular detective. In China Doll (not yet released from The Wild Rose Press), Jana heads to New York City to star in a Broadway play, enchanted by her gorgeous co-star Peter Stevens, and faced with murder on stage and off. Since the novels take place in the 1980’s, Jana’s agent and best friend are gay, and Jana is somewhat of a gay activist, the AIDS epidemic is a large part of the novels.


What’s next for you as a writer?

Nine Star Press is publishing my two novels that take place at a gay summer resort on the Jersey Shore: Cozzi Cove: Bouncing Back and Cozzi Cove: Moving Forward.


You are certainly prolific. Best wishes with all of your books!

Right back at you. Keep up the good work! And, readers, please contact me via my web site at Let’s all pump up—or at least read Drama Muscle.


Buy Drama Muscle:

Lethe Press:




It could be lights out for college theatre professor Nicky Abbondanza. With dead bodybuilders popping up on campus, Nicky, and his favorite colleague/life partner Noah Oliver, must use their drama skills to figure out who is taking down pumped up musclemen in the Physical Education building before it is curtain down for Nicky and Noah. Complicating matters is a visit from Noah’s parents from Wisconsin, and Nicky’s suspicion that Noah may be hiding more than a cut, smooth body. You will be applauding and shouting Bravo for Joe Cosentino’s fast-paced, side-splittingly funny, edge-of-your-seat entertaining second novel in this delightful series. Curtain up and weights up!


As the ethereal sound of horns parted the heavenly clouds, the young gods and goddesses appeared in a ray of white light. Standing as strong as the stone columns behind them, the deities displayed stunning muscles, colossal beauty, and mammoth ambition housed in the smallest and most seductive of white garments. Lightning flashed as they formed a resilient line and each struck their first flawless pose. Zeus was dark-skinned and as powerful as thunder. Ganymede at his side had skin of white porcelain and a clever stare. Hercules and Adonis were the perfect blend of masculine vigor and physical splendor. Athena was a gorgeous, olive-skinned warrior, and Aphrodite a lovely, fair-skinned temptress. Achilles watched them all, vowing to be victorious in the end.

“Good work, everyone!”

That was me, Nicky Abbondanza, Professor of Directing at Treemeadow College, a white-stone Edwardian-style private college in the quaint and picturesque village of Treemeadow in the equally quaint and picturesque state of Vermont. As inscribed on the two bronze statues at the college’s entrance, the college’s name comes from its founders, Harold Tree and Jacob Meadow. Tree and Meadow were madly wealthy, madly generous, and madly in love. The old gents would no doubt be proud to know that Noah Oliver (Professor of Acting) and I have become a current generation couple at Treemeadow College. That’s not to say Noah and I look anything like our college’s founders. We aren’t made of bronze for one. We wear dress shirts, slacks, and blazers in the fall season rather than heavy dark suits. Also, the Treemeadows were small, thin, scholarly types. Noah and I are both tall. I am of the dark hair, long sideburns, Roman nose, pumped body (thanks to the gym on campus) variety. Oh, there’s one other small thing. Well, it’s not really small. To the delight or horror of my past boyfriends, I have a nine-and-a-quarter-inch penis—flaccid. Luckily, Noah is delighted and totally open (pardon the pun) to new adventures. Noah has luxurious curly-blond hair, batting blue eyes, and the warmest heart in New England. His body is firm and smooth, but not toned as he never goes near the gym—until now!

Each year the top students in the Bodybuilding Department compete in a contest to be named the Top Toned Tan Trojan at Treemeadow (Try saying that three times fast). Actually, the real name is Treemeadow’s Annual Bodybuilding Competition. The winner receives an enormous gold cup, and more importantly, the year’s college tuition free. Given the rising cost of tuition at Treemeadow, this is no lightweight matter (pardon the pun again).

Bodybuilding Department Head Professor Brick Strong asked my Theatre Department Head, Martin Anderson, if Noah and I could use our theatrical expertise to add a dramatic flair to this year’s bodybuilding competition. Since I was not directing a play that semester, Martin agreed to give Noah and me release time, thereby changing our mantra from “Let’s put on a show” to “I’m gonna pump you up.” That led to Noah and me hauling lighting, smoke, sound, and set equipment, along with a number of skimpy Greek period costumes, from the Theatre Department building to the Physical Education building. The plan was that I, as a directing professor, would direct the production, and Noah, as an acting professor, would work with the student-athletes on stage presence for their individual poses.

“Okay everyone, Professor Oliver will take it from here.” I stepped aside and leaned against the gym wall.

Noah flicked back his gorgeous blond locks and took my place in front of the students like a new king taking the throne after a revolution. Sounding delectably butch, he said, “Let’s take a little time to discuss each of your characters. The Greek period was a—”

“That’s the period we’ve selected for the competition in terms of characters, set, and costumes,” I said.

Noah smiled in my direction.

I think Noah and I are the perfect couple. “Rodney, we know that your character, Zeus, was the father of gods and men—” Rodney Towers was tall, dark, and massive with muscle. “—which is why your toga has a thunderbolt on it,” I said.

Noah stiffened.

“I’m always happy to help,” I said.

“So I see.”

“But Professor Oliver is totally in charge now. So everyone, please listen to Professor Oliver,” I said.

“Thank you.” Focusing back on Zeus, rather Rodney, Noah said, “The Greek gods in mythology were part god and part human—”

“Which is why I selected this motif for the competition. You all have human emotion, but your strength and powers are supernatural.”

“Right,” said Noah with a tight jaw.

I folded my arms across my chest. “Professor Oliver is really good at working on character development, so pay close attention to him.”

Noah took in a deep breath. “And the Greek gods were quite amorous—”

“With both sexes,” I said. “Zeus and Ganymede were just one pair of famous lovers who influenced the arts.”

“Excuse me, everyone.” Noah put a hand on my shoulder and ushered me to a corner of the gym. “Nicky, I appreciate your help, but—”

I put my arm around Noah. “You don’t need to thank me. I love you, and I am always here to help you.”

“Well can you please…stop?”

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked dumbfounded.

“I would like to be able to finish a sentence! Will you let me do that?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“I won’t say another word,” I said as we walked back to the students.

“Promise?” Noah whispered in my ear.

“Of course.” I looked at my watch. “You should move the rehearsal along, since there’s lots more to do.”


About the Author:

Amazon Bestselling author Joe Cosentino wrote Drama Queen and Drama Muscle Nicky and Noah mysteries (Lethe Press), An Infatuation, A Shooting Star, A Home for the Holidays, The Naked Prince and Other Tales from Fairyland (Dreamspinner Press), Cozzi Cove: Bouncing Back (Nine Star Press), Paper Doll (Whiskey Creek Press) and Porcelain Doll (Wild Rose Press) Jana Lane mysteries, and The Nutcracker and the Mouse King (Eldridge Plays and Musicals). He has appeared in principal acting roles in film, television, and theatre, opposite stars such as Bruce Willis, Rosie O’Donnell, Nathan Lane, Holland Taylor, and Jason Robards. His one-act plays, Infatuation and Neighbor, were performed in New York City. He wrote The Perils of Pauline educational film (Prentice Hall Publishers). Joe is currently Head of the Department/Professor at a college in upstate New York, and is happily married. His upcoming novels are Drama Cruise Nicky and Noah mystery (Lethe Press), Satin Doll and China Doll Jana Lane mysteries (Wild Rose Press), and Cozzi Cove: Moving Forward (Nine Star Press).


Web site:






Publisher: Lethe Press

Cover Art: Denny Minonne

Cover Design: Inkspiral Design


What Happened in Vegas?? #BlogHop ~ “This is the Future, Baby” Original Fiction From Kelly Jensen!

Vegas-Hop-GraphicThanks for following the “What Happened in Vegas??” Blog Hop! I’d like to highlight The Attic Youth Center in Philadelpha. The Attic creates opportunities for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Questioning (LGBTQ) youth to develop into healthy, independent, civic-minded adults within a safe and supportive community, and promotes the acceptance of LGBTQ youth in society.

Computer generated 3D photo rendering.This is the Future, Baby

by Kelly Jensen

The holo outside of Destination Weddings darkened and the projection stuttered as the program restarted, a bud of light growing in the center of the virtual marquee. The light expanded and diverged like an old fashioned firework. Each streamer arced out from the display. Kale ducked as a point of light sailed past his ear. He could have sworn he felt a flash of heat. Turning, he checked to make sure Toby hadn’t been in the path of any errant streamers. His lover stood well clear by chance alone. Head tilted back, lips parted, he was watching the lights dance over and around him with the wonder of a small child.

“Look, Kale! It’s a map!” Toby spun around, arms flying out from his sides, mouth open in a wide grin.

Around him, shimmered a map of the world connected by a ghostly network of lines. Instead of a mall on the 56th level of the dirt scraper, Minneapolis Deep, Kale stood somewhere in the middle of Europe, the bright light of Paris blinking just to his left. Toby was lost somewhere in the south west, the lights of scattered cities glittering around him. He reached out to tap the closest point and the holo projection flickered.

“You have selected Las Vegas, Nevada. For more information on this exciting destination, please step inside the store.”

Kale frowned. “This map is seriously out of date. Vegas is nothing a strip of broken hotels in a desert valley.” And had been since the great drought of 2020. Kale tapped the point next to him. “What about Paris?” Europe still had surface water, and most of their cities towered above the ground instead of below.

“That’s where Max and Itsuki got married.” Toby said. “I want to go somewhere completely different.” Somewhere wondrous and unforgettable—and Kale would do anything, go anywhere, to make sure Toby got exactly what he wanted.

The holo stuttered again, preparing to relaunch the display. Grabbing Toby’s hand, Kale tugged him beneath the marquee and into the store. “C’mon, let’s go inside. I’m gonna have an epileptic fit if I stand out here much longer.”

“And thought I was the dramatic one.”

Kale pressed a kiss to Toby’s temple. “I learned from the best.”

“Welcome to Destination Weddings!”

Kale had expected to be greeted by another holo. The woman standing in front of them defied reality in every other way, however. She wore a white robe with a thigh high slit on both sides. The neckline plunged toward her navel. Twist the fabric, and she’d fall out. A wide belt of blue and gold cinched the waist. A sash of matching fabric hung about her shoulders.

Toby surged forward like an over excited puppy. “Oh my God, is your hair real?” From another band of gold set with blue jewels, hair as black as space fell all the way down her back. Uninhibited as always, Toby caught a strand between his fingers. “It’s so smooth. What products do you use?”

Leaving Toby to discuss hair and shampoo—a conversation that could extend from minutes to an hour, he was a stylist, after all—Kale wandered deeper into the store. Small, more constrained holo displays flickered from nearly every surface. Photos of happy couples tying the knot, interspersed with images of famous landmarks. Kale let each display capture his attention in turn, but despite the bright colors and cheerful smiles, there was something off about every destination. He couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong until he saw the Vegas display.

Behind a cycling holo of smiling couples was an aerial photograph of Las Vegas Boulevard at night. The glittering path of The Strip was easy to pick out—and shouldn’t be. The desert had reclaimed the valley eighty years ago. Las Vegas wasn’t a viable destination.

Kale turned to look at the displays he’d just walked past and frowned as he recognized landmarks no longer in existence. The ruins of Pompeii were buried under another layer of ash and the Golden Gate Bridge had been swept down by the tsunami of 2089. Giza was closed to visitors, and had been for over seventy years.

He looked at the bright lights of Vegas again. The background image had switched to a daytime view, each casino still a jewel against the desert. Of all the lost places, this would be the one he’d most like to visit. A city carved from the sand, in defiance of all natural law. A culture built out of sin, now dead and buried. Oh, the stories those ruins could tell if anyone cared to dig through the shifting sands of the Mojave. A dead city wasn’t exactly the most romantic wedding destination, though.

“Kale!” Toby was beckoning him—and bouncing on his toes. “What do you think?”

He still stood next to the woman, whose costume now made sense. She was dressed as an Ancient Egyptian something. The reenactment idea was pretty cool, but Kale really didn’t want to get married on a movie set. He wanted his wedding to Toby to be real.

“Not sure this is what we had in mind,” Kale said, trying to keep his tone light. What if Toby thought it was a great idea? He loved dressing up.

“I know it’s not what we discussed, but this could be way cooler. Our special day will be truly unique!”

At the package price of… How much did these illusions cost, anyway? “Toby…”

The light in Toby’s eyes was dimming, but also sharpening. Wrapping slender fingers around Kale’s biceps, he turned to their hostess. “We’ll be right back.”

Crap. They were going to do the adults-need-to-talk thing before they even got married?

Toby tugged him into a corner, coincidentally near the Vegas display. “What’s up?”

Kale captured Toby’s beautiful face gently between his palms. “I want to make you happy, but this doesn’t feel right to me. I want our wedding to be real, Toby, not some scripted play. I want to go to an actual place, somewhere we can revisit whenever we’re feeling sappy, so we can remember the day we exchanged our vows.”

“I love your romantic soul.” Which Kale tended to keep well buried. Engineers generally weren’t hired for their idealism. Toby covered his hands, lacing their fingers together. “But, babe, these places are real. Destination Weddings is a time travel agency.”

Kale tried not to wince as he added a couple of zeroes to his imagined price. “Time travel?” Keeping the strain out of his voice proved just as difficult. “That’s…” He glanced over his shoulder at the shining seductress of the desert, Las Vegas at its height. “Is it safe?”

Time travel had been an inevitable development, really. Once dimensional doorways had become a reliable form of transport, a dozen or more agencies had funded research into moving forward and backward through time, instead of simply from point to point. But like trips to Mars, time travel had been always seemed the provenance of the wealthy and the daring. Or stupid. Kale hadn’t realized it was available for vacations. Affordable vacations.

Their hostess had drifted close again. “Destination Weddings has been transporting happy couples to the past for over five years.” But had any of them come back? “It’s as safe as walking through the d-door from the first level to the fiftieth of Minneapolis Deep. And we’ll provide you with everything you need for the time period and location you choose. We’re a full service agency.” Her smile was bright and very white.

Kale prepared to broach the subject of money. Of course, Toby had adopted the eager puppy look again. Damn him. “I…can we afford it?” Could you really put a price on happiness?

Toby stepped back, turning his hands so their fingers remained entwined. “Ultimately, it’s not where we go. I know that, you know that. But I think this could be really neat. Did you know men weren’t even allowed to marry men in some of these periods of history? Not that I want our wedding to be us thumbing our noses at our ancestors. I’d rather go where we can celebrate.”

“We could go to the Lakes.”

“The Puddles, you mean.” No one called them the Great Lakes anymore. “I don’t want to get married by a reminder of just how badly we’ve messed up our planet. I’d rather risk a trip to Mars. But this…” Pulling one hand free, Toby made a dramatic, sweeping gesture that encompassed the Vegas display, among others. “This is when we were great!”

“That’s kinda depressing, Tobes.”

He sobered. “Yeah, I know. Think of it this way, then. Time travel is a way to revitalize our present. To set us to dreaming again.”

Kale felt a sideways grin pulling at his mouth. “And that’s a lot of philosophy for one wedding.”

“Ah hell. I just want to get married and you haven’t stopped looking at the pictures of Vegas since we got here.” Toby had both of his hands again. “Hang the expense. They’ve got payment plans. This will be the trip of a lifetime. It will be unforgettable!”

Toby could come across as frivolous, but when he really wanted something, he would work at it from every angle until it happened. And just as Toby loved the soft stuff Kale hid inside, Kale loved the core of iron within Toby.

He squeezed Toby’s fingers. “Let’s do it.”

Two white dices isolated on white.Las Vegas was hot. Ungodly hot. And completely surreal. The entire place made no sense. Each casino was like a village—completely self-contained and culturally distinct. Kale felt as if he’d time-traveled again every time he stepped through a new pair of doors. They’d been to the tropics, Egypt, and New York City. They’d seen animals that only existed in these towering institutions of greed and vanity. After five hours of sightseeing, they’d seen more of the world than either of them had expected to see—except it wasn’t real. Any of it.

For Toby’s sake, Kale refused to acknowledge the small curl of disappointment hidden beneath what could only be described as awe. Artifice or not, Las Vegas was amazing. He’d never forget the experience of being here.

“Let’s go to Paris next.” Toby held up a glossy map. He looked like a tourist, but so did everyone else surging up and down the wide sidewalk. They’d been told to dress down a little for 2015, but Toby loved color. His hair stood out from his head in crimson spikes and the green lenses in his eyes flashed brightly every time he blinked. The shirt he wore combined both colors in a lurid pattern of palm trees and sunsets. According to their guidebook, the shirt was appropriate to the culture and time. Kale had yet to see anything quite like it, but while the sometimes bland world of Minneapolis Deep needed the brightness of people like Toby, Las Vegas seemed designed for him.

Kale touched the corner of the map, expecting a menu to coalesce in the air in front of it. For about the tenth time that afternoon, he started when it didn’t happen.

Toby pointed to a spot somewhere along the boulevard. “It’s here.” He moved his finger down a way. “We’re here.”

Half a kilometer away, and not a glidewalk in sight. “I can’t believe we’re really eighty-five years in the past.”

“It hits me every now and then too. I mean, being outside in the sunshine is weird enough.”

“Right?” And sort of thrilling. “Speaking of which, how long before we need to replace our SPF patches?”

“We have another hour.”

Kale studied the map again. “It’s a long walk to Paris.”

“Yeah, they could use a d-door or two along Las Vegas Boulevard.”

The futility of it all hit Kale, then. Glancing up from the map, he murmured, “It’s kind of eerie, isn’t it? Knowing all of this will disappear in five years?”

Toby smacked his arm. “Don’t. We can’t do anything about it, you know that. And that’s not why we came here.”

“But don’t you feel a bit, I don’t know, icky? As if we’re taking advantage. Trading on their doom?”

Toby gaped at him. “I feel like every other tourist here.” He gestured the crowd. “Besides, none of these people would listen to us if we told them what the future holds. We’d either be ignored, spat on, or locked up. And, you’re forgetting the most important fact.”

“That we can’t change history?” There’d been a brief lecture on the fallacy of paradoxes and multiple continuums. Or had it been the fallacy of continuums and multiple—

“No! That we’re here to get married.”

Blushes didn’t show well on Kale’s dark skin, but Toby always said his cheeks glowed when he was embarrassed. And that he looked like a chastened bulldog. “Toby, I…”


Toby stood on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his lips. Kale caught him around the waist and hauled him closer, deepening the kiss. He stopped short of making love to Toby’s mouth—he wasn’t an exhibitionist—but he was always ready to show his lover the depth of his desire.

“Fucking queers.”

Jostled from behind, their mouths came apart. Kale tightened his hold on Toby before looking around.

Toby caught his chin. “Ignore it. This was a less tolerant time, remember?”

“But they just ruled same sex marriage legal in all states.”

“And how long did it take for black men to gain respect in this country?”

Kale growled under his breath. “I’m starting to wonder why we came here. Maybe a holo wedding would have been better. Or the Roman Empire. Did you know two of the emperors were married to men?”

Toby smiled. “I love that you’re so passionate about history. But while we might have lost much of this, we’ve gained a lot too.” Bigotry seemed to be a hardwired aspect of human nature, but their present—nearly a hundred years in the future—was a time of tolerance, respect and unequaled enlightenment.

Kale squeezed Toby a little tighter. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Now put me down so we can go to Paris. I want to check out the wedding chapel there.”

He set Toby back down on the pavement. “It’s kinda neat that we’re getting to do Vegas and Paris in the same trip.”

“See? This is the future, baby.”Two white dices isolated on white.Paris turned out to be just another casino, and less culturally distinct than many of the others they’d visited. Or maybe all the bright lights and ringing slot machines were starting to blur into a mind numbing symphony. Either way, Kale was disappointed. He was also tired. He and Toby lived in one of the largest underground cities in North America, but the streets of Minneapolis Deep were lined by moving pathways and joined by lift tubes. D-doors allowed commuters to traverse fifty levels at a time.

After inspecting another disappointingly bland wedding chapel, he pulled Toby out of another over-caffeinated crowd and into a corner of relative quiet. A space behind a pillar. There was a reassuring scuff of dust on the floor.

“I’m done in.”

“Yeah, me too,” Toby said, leaning into him. The tips of his spiky hair tickled Kale’s chin. “Let’s check out our hotel room and maybe indulge in some virtual tourism.”

They had the internet in 2015. It didn’t come alive, projecting holograms and three dimensional maps into the air, but after an afternoon of casino floors and tourists, that would almost be a relief.

Destination Weddings had booked them into a room at the Bellagio, which was just across the boulevard from Paris. Across the boulevard could turn into a distance of a kilometer or more by the time they exited one hotel and entered another. Half an hour later, they reached their room, which overlooked the fountains Kale had been too weary to appreciate as they passed.

Toby sidled up next to him and leaned into his side. “The fountains will be spectacular at night.”

“Mmm,” Kale agreed. He turned to survey the pleasingly large bed. “Where are our bags?”

Their luggage was supposed to have been delivered while they did their sightseeing. “Unpacked and stowed,” Toby said. “I could get used to this luxury living. Let’s check out the bathroom!”

It was small, but well appointed. And it had a tub. Kale swallowed any comments about the amount of water required to fill it. They were here to celebrate their wedding, and… “Think we could both fit in there?”

“You and me and not so little you?” Toby fondled Kale’s crotch.

“Mmm-hmm.” Kale rocked forward into Toby’s palm. “Now I kinda want to test the bed too.” He bent down to kiss Toby’s brow, nose, and lips. Then he picked up his lover and carried him to the great expanse of creamy linens, intending to muss them into irrevocable wrinkles.

After testing the bed, bath, and shower, they returned to the bed dressed in robes made of an odd, furry fabric Toby identified as cotton. The towels had had the same thick feel. Sprawled across the rumpled sheets, Toby activated the bulky tablet computer their tour assistant had assured them was all the thing in 2015, and followed the instructions for gaining access to the internet.

“Do you think it’s always this slow?” Toby muttered as they waited for the results to his search for Vegas wedding chapels.

“Dunno. Try this one.” Kale pointed to flashing advertisement under the map of Vegas that had appeared on the right side of the screen.

Toby tapped the picture and a video interface opened. Together, they watched the dashed circle in the middle chase its own tail. Finally, the video loaded. It was advertisement for cat food, featuring singing cats.

Giggling, Toby touched the screen. “Aww, this one is so cute.” As he stroked the gray and white tabby, the screen reloaded to show a second video, this one of a fat orange cat forcing its way inside a box that might accommodate one of its paws. Then the screen split into a preview of six new videos, all of cats. Toby touched another and they watched a series of cats falling from tables, in between couch cushions, and behind bookcases. They moved on to a video of a woman dressing her cat in ridiculous outfits, then another about a cat with a sad, sad face, who spoke of resignation, boredom, and the silliness of humans.

Kale fell asleep listening to the sound of Toby’s chuckles, and awoke to the feel of a cat’s tongue licking his cheeks, only to realize Toby was nuzzling him.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

Kale grunted.


Nosing his way toward Toby’s ear, Kale caught the delicate pebble of flesh between his lips. “Always hungry for you.”

“Mmm, I did mean the other hunger, though.”

Kale’s stomach added its opinion, growling loudly. “I could eat.”

“Then I think it’s time to do the buffet and maybe a show.”

“Did you find a chapel, or did you watch another million cat videos?”

“I have a list of three places to check out and they’re all open at night.”

“Awesome.” Kale nosed below Toby’s ear and sucked on his neck. “Do we need to go right away?”

Two white dices isolated on white.After another round of bed, bath, and shower testing, Kale stood in the midst of continent of food. He’d never seen such variety, such plenty. Fruits and vegetables he couldn’t reliably name, and meat in shapes suggesting it had been cut from an actual carcass. Bread of different colors and textures. Baked casseroles. A pasta bar. Seafood.

“Oh my God, they have fish.”

“I want to move to the past,” Toby said.

“Against the rules,” Kale reminded him. “I’m glad they issued us with digestives. We could kill ourselves eating all of this.”

“We don’t have to eat all of it. But I’m going to taste as much as I can.” Toby plucked a plate from a teetering stack and began arranging fruit around the rim.

“We can come back as many times as we like, right?”

“That’s not the point,” Toby said.

Kale smiled. No, it wasn’t. Regardless of how many visits he could make, Toby would want each plate to look pretty.

Grabbing a plate of his own, Kale arrowed toward the island of seafood and spent half a minute dithering between snow crab legs and jumbo shrimp before remembering he could sample both. And clams, calamari, and little gray nuggets of flesh in black shells called oysters. He peeled slivers of firm, pink flesh away from a display arranged to look like a fish.

With his plate more than half full, he veered toward the vegetable island and layered seven different kinds of leaves with thin slices of cucumber, tomato, radish, and carrot. Like seafood, and meat that actually bled on the plate, fresh vegetables were a luxury deep city dwellers rarely saw.

He met Toby back at their table and they passed a lively half hour sampling everything from both plates. Then they went back for more. Kale’s tummy started rumbling before he finished his second plate, but he’d discovered the dessert bar and wanted to taste at least four of the delectable treats on offer. Maybe five. Six if he wanted to include some fresh fruit.

He managed one dessert, a slice of apple pie. Beside him, Toby was working his way through a sundae he’d constructed himself. With his gut stretched beyond satiety, Kale found the sight of all that ice cream vaguely nauseating. But he enjoyed Toby’s enthusiasm. As he sipped his coffee, though, a vague sense of melancholy wound through him. At first, he thought it might be homesickness. The amenities of the hotel far surpassed the tiny apartment he and Toby shared, sixty-one levels below the surface of what had once been a thriving city. But Las Vegas was loud, and the city seemed to move and breathe around them. The sun shone so brightly—almost relentlessly on it all. And the heat, the smells. People sweating and… He eyed the buffet again. Consuming.

His belly grumbled again.

The excess bothered him. Not just because it would all be gone in five years. More, it was that no one around him seemed to care. They didn’t understand.

They didn’t know.

“Hey.” Toby elbowed him gently in the side.

“Watch it. Dig that elbow any deeper and I might show you what I ate last.”

“So gross.”

Kale smiled.

“You’re looking a bit too thoughtful,” Toby said.

“Just a little homesick.”

Toby opened his mouth, expression set to friendly rebuke, then he stopped, smiled, and reached up to caress Kale’s cheek. “We’ll be home soon enough, big guy.” He grabbed Kale’s hand. “C’mon. I want to go see the fountains.”

The push through the still crowded casino floor wore on Kale’s nerves. Lingering heat from the day stole his breath when they finally emerged into the night. There was a slight breeze, but the press of so much humanity stunted its effectiveness. The crowds of Minneapolis Deep had never bothered him this much. He must just be tired.

Toby used his smaller stature to elbow through the throng. Kale wedged his bulk into each opening. Every disgruntled sound from the people they passed scratched against his psyche. Then the fountain show started and a collective gasp quieted the night.

Music, color, and water surging upward in symphony. It was beautiful. It was tragic. Kale blinked against tears that made no sense, and decided that perhaps he’d caught some spray in his eyes. But the ache in his chest couldn’t be explained so simply. He hadn’t realized he’d stepped back until Toby looked up at him, bright eyes reflecting the leaping plumes of water.

“What’s wrong?’

Shaking his head, Kale directed his lover’s attention back toward the fountains. Toby pulled him backward instead. They worked their way through the spectators until they reached the fringe, then Toby asked his question again.

Biting his lips, Kale considered his response before giving it. He didn’t want to break Toby’s heart, but… “I don’t want to get married here,” he finally said.

The hurt he’d expected flashed through Toby’s eyes. “But why?”

“It’s too sad, Tobes. It’s amazing. I’m glad I’ve seen it, but I can’t stop thinking about the fact all this will be gone in a few years. The waste and the futility. That’s not how I think of us.”

“We’re going to be together for longer than five years, Kale.”

Kale sought the right words to explain what felt like irrational thoughts. “But Las Vegas won’t be here. Not like this.”

Toby was silent for a while. Around them, the music continued to swell and dip, and the water that would eventually evaporate beyond humanity’s ability to recover it, cavorted and played in rhythm. He gazed toward the fountain, something like longing on his face, then he squeezed Kale’s hand. “Okay. Let’s go home.”

Two white dices isolated on white.The colors were brilliant, the rising sun picking vibrant hues of red and gold from the sand and stone. Kale wriggled free of his sleeping bag and pushed to his feet, turning his face toward Sunrise Mountain. A vivid lip of sunlight blazed between the peaks. Below, the desert was quiet and serene, the dawn air almost cool. A breeze stirred against Kale’s skin. He could smell only dirt and sand and warming sunshine. And Toby, who always smelled the same to him, regardless of how often he changed his cologne.

Kale nudged his husband’s sleeping bag. “Rise and shine, babe.”

Blinking, Toby sat up and tugged on his sleep flattened hair. He mumbled as he encouraged a wide, green brush to stand straight up from his scalp. The rest of his skull was covered by a soft orange fuzz that glowed in the morning light. He’d changed the style for their wedding, which they’d had at home. Kale had been right; Minneapolis Deep needed the color of men like Toby, and exchanging their vows there, where they lived and loved, had felt good.

But so did their choice of honeymoon destination.

Kale held out his hand and Toby struggled out of his sleeping bag and came to join him. Together, they gazed out over the valley. The ruins of Las Vegas threw long shadows across the desert. The casinos were there, half buried, and between them, you could still trace The Strip. Las Vegas Boulevard. A roller-coaster curled above a drift in the vicinity of New York, New York, and Paris’s Eiffel Tower drew a more complicated pattern across the rising tide of sand. Kale couldn’t pick out the colors on the turrets of Excalibur, but he remembered them.

“It’s beautiful,” Toby said.

Kale looked down at his husband. “And sad.”

Toby cocked his head. “Still?”

“A little. Not like it was then.” A week ago for them, eighty-five years in the past for the rest of the world. “It’s more like a held breath now. As if it’s waiting.”

“For what?”

For us to come back and remember it.

Sand covered most of what had been outlying suburbs and industry, but with a holographic overlay map, you could match the smooth areas, bumps, and depressions to old landmarks. But the valley would never be reclaimed by humanity. Not in their lifetimes, anyway. And the substructure beneath the desert was too unstable for a dirt scraper.

Kale squeezed Toby’s hand. “Maybe it was waiting for this. Our first dawn as husband and husband.”

Toby’s smile was as bright as the rising sun. “My romantic fool.”

“Mmm.” Kale nosed Toby’s temple. “It’s wondrous and unforgettable, which is what I wanted for our wedding. And it’s a monument to what we’ve been able to achieve. Who we were. Who we still are. Who we will always be.”

“You’re saying we’re going to keep trying to build cities in the desert.”

Kale extended a finger toward the sky. “Frozen deserts now, millions of kilometers away, but yeah. And some of what we’ll build will be useful and some of it will be just like this. A city with no real purpose.” Of greed and lust and waste. “Something just for fun.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“I don’t know, Tobes. But isn’t that what makes us human?”

“Well, I kinda liked that city of sin.”

“I did too. But not as much as I like this. Us, together, with the rising sun painting pictures across the sand. It’s quiet now. Restful.”

Toby turned back toward the view. “Yeah. And it’s not going to change much in five years, is it?”

“Nope. Or ten, twenty, thirty. The casinos might just be lumps beneath the sand in fifty years.”

“I’ll still love you then,” Toby said.

Kale’s chest swelled with the joy of his husband’s simple statement. “And I’ll still love you.” Tugging on Toby’s fingers, he drew him back toward the sleeping bags. “C’mon. I think the sun can finish rising without us.”


Two white dices isolated on white.


KellyJensenIf aliens ever do land on Earth, Kelly will not be prepared, despite having read over a hundred stories of the apocalypse. Still, she will pack her precious books into a box and carry them with her as she strives to survive. It’s what bibliophiles do. In the meantime, she plans to keep reading, writing about reading, and writing stories of her own.

Find her on Twitter @kmkjensen, or visit her website at

Guest Author: Grace R. Duncan!

I’m thrilled to welcome Grace R. Duncan back to my little corner of the net today! She’s on tour for her new release, Turning His Life Around, and has brought a special treat or two so i’ll just get out of the way and let you enjoy…

Thanks for visiting Grace!


Hello and welcome to the Turning His Life Around blog tour! I wanted to do something a little different this time around and so starting today and for the next eight days, I’ve put together a running short story. This story happens a couple of years before Turning takes place, when Ian is learning he’s in love with Kane but hasn’t quite accepted what all that means for him yet, since Kane doesn’t return that love.

The story will continue for all nine tour stops! Be sure to catch each one because everyone who reads all nine and can answer a scavenger hunt questionnaire based on the story will be entered to win $25 a Dreamspinner Press! Check the end of this post for a link to the tour page.

TurningHisLifeAround_headerbanner“Come on, let me take this off,” Kane grumbled again and reached up to pull at his blindfold.

Ian laughed and swatted his hand away. “No. You couldn’t decide where to go to celebrate the new job, so I get to surprise you. And if I’m going to surprise you, I’m going to go all the way with it. So, you’re just going to have to deal.”

“Ian…” Kane whined.

Reaching over from the driver’s seat, Ian gave Kane a light pinch to his leg. “Stop. We’ll be there soon.”

Kane sighed and mumbled something Ian didn’t catch, but he stopped complaining. Ian turned his attention to driving and was grateful when, a few turns later, he pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot. “Okay, stay put. I’ll be around to get you.”

“Okay,” Kane said, gripping the side of the seat, obviously working to keep from moving the blindfold.

He hurried around the car and opened Kane’s door then guided his friend out. “Okay, ready?”

Kane bit his lip, undoubtedly holding back a retort that would piss Ian off, then said, “Yes. Please.”

Ian grinned and pulled his mom’s silk scarf from around Kane’s eyes. “HOLY SHIT!” Kane nearly shouted then spun around, huge grin on his face. “Really?”

Smile spreading even wider, Ian nodded. “Yeah, really. I take it you’re okay with it?”

“Oh hell yeah! I’ve been wanting to go here forever. Holy shit, thank you,” Kane said and grabbed Ian in a hug, followed immediately by a hard kiss that briefly left Ian stunned.

When Kane turned back around, Ian had to shake his head hard to get his sanity back. He tossed the scarf into his car and shut the door. “Well, then, shall we?” Ian asked and they started around the building.

Kaishoku was one of the few truly authentic Japanese restaurants in the city. One of the Japanese gentlemen Ian worked with had recommended it some time ago. He’d said the food was very much like he’d had at home even if some of the sushi choices were still western. But the rest of it reminded him of home and that had been good enough for Ian.

The understated building certainly looked like a transplant from Tokyo, or, at least, from suburban Japan. One long, wide level rose up from the ground slightly with a long porch stretched across the front of the painted white exterior. Cherry wood trim ran around the windows and doors and along the bottom of the black, pointed roof. The doors were also done in a cherry wood with slatted windows inset and they slid open like traditional shoji doors.

When they stepped into the interior, Ian’s breath caught. It was gorgeous. A small stream ran behind the hostess station with a variety of koi swimming in the water, all of them almost as large as Ian’s forearm, some in bright red, a few with orange spots and some black and white. One looked almost translucent. Ian had to fight the urge to kneel down next to the stream to look closer.

Instead, he took in the rest of the relatively small room. The stream ran under walls on either side of the entry way, disappearing into the rest of the building. A lighter wood here in the interior, made up most of the walls and floor. The rest of the walls were white and looked like traditional rice paper, as were the shoji doors leading off to the left and right. Across from them and over a tiny footbridge, an archway led to a hallway filled with more shoji doors.

Soft music that sounded like it was some sort of lute and flute combination floated from invisible speakers to accompany the burble of the stream. The hostess’s voice added to the sound as she talked to someone on a cordless phone. Ian couldn’t tell if she was speaking English, Japanese, or some other language because she was talking too fast for him to make it out.

As they approached the stand, she looked up and smiled at them. “Yes, thank you. We will see you then,” she finished in a heavy Asian accent. “Very good. Good bye!” She pushed the button on the phone and set it down, looking up at them. “Good evening!” she greeted them, bowing slightly. “Welcome to Kaishoku! How may I help you?”

“Hello,” Ian said, returning her smile and putting his hand on Kane’s back. “Reservations for Kelly.”

“Oh yes! Very good. Very good,” she said, pulling out menus. She consulted a map of the restaurant as she pulled out a long piece of paper, then glanced up at them again. Her eyes widened a little when she spotted Ian’s hand on Kane’s back and Ian tensed, not sure what to expect for a reaction.


* * *

Remember, be sure to follow the whole tour to get the full story and a chance to win a $25 gift certificate at Dreamspinner Press. One person who comments here by telling me your favorite type of restaurant will win an ebook of any of my backlist titles (any published prior to Turning).

turning blog tour SmFollow the tour here:

* * *

TurningHisLifeAroundFSCan Kane recognize what’s right in front of him before he loses everything?


When Kane Harris’s world turns upside down, his lifelong best friend is the only one to catch him.

Years ago, Ian Kelly accepted Kane would never return his love, since he knows Kane believes he’s incapable of it. Ian is willing to settle for what he can get—a best friend, sometimes casual lover, and occasional submissive. He’s learned he can’t live without Kane, but he can’t let Kane know. Because when, not if, Kane confirms that Ian’s love will never be returned, Ian won’t be able to take it. But when Kane loses his job and asks Ian to step up their play to help him deal, Ian’s ability to hide his feelings falters. Then Kane starts his own computer security firm and asks Ian to join him, and Ian struggles further.

It’s not until they visit the exclusive BDSM club the Iron Door that things come to a head. Kane screws up big time, and he’s afraid he can’t fix it. He’s sure he’ll lose his best friend, his Dom, his everything… forever.

* * *

noh8About Grace:

Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination.  She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble.  Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.

A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States.  She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.

As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics.  She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

Find Grace here:

Website  ◊ FacebookTwitterYoutubeGoodreads


Guest Author: Drama Queen by Joe Cosentino

Today i’m happy to host Joe Cosentino. He’s brought an excerpt from his new release, Drama Queen!
Thanks for visiting, Joe!


DRAMA QUEEN (a Nicky and Noah mystery)

a comedy/mystery/romance novel by JOE COSENTINO

from Lethe Press paperback and ebook available now in all formats

audiobook coming soon


It could be curtains for college theatre professor Nicky Abbondanza. With dead bodies popping up all over campus, Nicky must use his drama skills to figure out who is playing the role of murderer before it is lights out for Nicky and his colleagues. Complicating matters is Nicky’s huge crush on Noah Oliver, a gorgeous assistant professor in his department, who may or may not be involved with a cocky graduate assistant…and is also the top suspect for the murders! You will be applauding and shouting Bravo for Joe Cosentino’s fast-paced, side-splittingly funny, edge-of-your-seat, delightfully entertaining novel. Curtain up!


With the student actors and technicians sitting in the front of the theatre (obliviously texting on their phones), my student stage manager, SuCho, screamed for everyone’s attention, and for me to come to the front of the theatre house to give them my notes. This thankfully sent David off to his office in a huff.

After I had given my first few notes, I noticed Noah Oliver standing in the back of the theatre. Noah is tall and lean with curly blond hair, blue eyes, and the sweetest smile I have ever wanted to kiss in an Assistant Professor. While I teach Theatre History and Play Directing, Noah is our department’s specialist in Acting, and for good reason. Noah is a terrific actor, a creative and passionate teacher, and a wonderful colleague. More importantly, I have had a crush on him since the moment he made his entrance into our humble campus three years ago. Noah is single, gay, and seems to really like me. Why don’t I ask him out? Noah is twenty-eight years young. As a junior professor in my department in need of my vote for tenure this year, if I make a pass at him it could be considered attempted coercion on my part.

It was difficult for me to concentrate on giving my notes to the students since Scotty Bruno, my graduate assistant and Assistant Director of the play, was talking, laughing, and obviously flirting with Noah in the rear of the theatre. I had reason to be concerned. Scotty has bleached blond hair, contact lens turquoise eyes, ultra-white bonded teeth, and muscles as if sculpted by Michelangelo, housed in multi-colored, stuffed shorts and tank top (in winter) that were not unnoticed by Noah. Unless I was becoming nearsighted, I could have sworn that Scotty whispered something into Noah’s ear then handed Noah a box. What the heck is in it? Love letters? Condoms? My heart on a silver platter?

“Any notes for me, professor?” Paul Amour, my leading man, sat front row center and winked at me. Identifying as bisexual, Paul uses his charms with men and women alike to get their attention. Tall with shiny, wavy black hair climbing down his neck, chiseled features, and a body like a Greek god, getting attention wasn’t too difficult for Paul.

“You were like terrific tonight, Paul. I really believed you were like the murderer!” Ricky Gonzalez, Paul’s co-star and last onstage murder victim, sat next to Paul like an art dealer admiring the Mona Lisa. Ricky is shorter and darker than Paul with a smaller but equally cut physique. After he graduates from college and gets over his crush on Paul, Ricky will no doubt make some guy a wonderful husband.

“Thanks, Ricky.” Paul squeezed one of Ricky’s abdominal muscles.

Ricky beamed like a floodlight.

Kayla Calloway and Jan Annondale, who play murder victims one and two in the play, sat on the other side of Paul to reward their peripheral visions. Zaftig, giggly, and insecure, they hung on Paul’s every word, wishing they could hang on Paul.

“Your fight scenes were totally awesome tonight, Paul,” said Kayla.

Jan added, “And you really like aced your cool monologue at the end of the play.”

Before Paul could sign autographs, I said, “I have five more pages of notes tonight, people. Can I have everyone’s attention?”

As the cast members groaned I noticed that Noah and Scotty had left the theatre (to have a quickie in the lobby?). The students listened while I gave notes for improvement on their diction, movements, timing, reacting on stage (or lack thereof), character development, and emotional levels. After my last note, the students presented me with a blueberry cheesecake (thanks to the organic dairy farm bordering the college), singing “Happy Birthday” in four-part harmony (the lesbians at the lower notes and the gay men hitting the high notes). I was filled with gratitude until I noticed the thirty-five candles on top of the cake (obviously leaked to my students by Eve Harrington, my graduate assistant Scotty Bruno).


Purchase the paperback from Lethe Press at:

Purchase the paperback from Amazon at:

Purchase the ebook from Smashwords at:

Purchase the Kindle from Amazon at:

About the Author: Joe Cosentino is the author of Drama Queen the first Nicky and Noah mystery (Lethe Press), An Infatuation (Dreamspinner Press), Paper Doll the first Jana Lane mystery (Whiskey Creek Press), and The Nutcracker and the Mouse King (Eldridge Plays and Musicals). He has appeared in principal acting roles in film, television, and theatre, opposite stars such as Bruce Willis, Rosie O’Donnell, Nathan Lane, Holland Taylor, and Jason Robards. His one-act plays, Infatuation and Neighbor, were performed in New York City. He wrote The Perils of Pauline educational film (Prentice Hall Publishers). Joe is currently Head of the Department/Professor at a college in upstate New York, and is happily married. His upcoming novels are Drama Muscle the second Nicky and Noah mystery (Lethe Press), A Shooting Star (Dreamspinner Press novella), A Home for the Holidays (Dreamspinner Press holiday novella), and Porcelain Doll the second Jana Lane mystery.

Web site:






Paperback: 194 pages

Publisher: Lethe Press (June 6, 2015)

Language: English

Cover Design: Ben Baldwin

ISBN-10: 1590214676

ISBN-13: 978-1590214671

Release date: June 6, 2015

Guest Author: Grace R. Duncan!

I’m so excited to announce my new novel Turning His LIfe Around is up for pre-order with an amazing cover from Paul Richmond!


Title: Turning His Life Around
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release date: July 6, 2015
240 pages, 87k words
Cover Art: Paul Richmond

Can Kane recognize what’s right in front of him before he loses everything?

When Kane Harris’s world turns upside down, his lifelong best friend is the only one to catch him.

Years ago, Ian Kelly accepted Kane would never return his love, since he knows Kane believes he’s incapable of it. Ian is willing to settle for what he can get—a best friend, sometimes casual lover, and occasional submissive. He’s learned he can’t live without Kane, but he can’t let Kane know. Because when, not if, Kane confirms that Ian’s love will never be returned, Ian won’t be able to take it. But when Kane loses his job and asks Ian to step up their play to help him deal, Ian’s ability to hide his feelings falters. Then Kane starts his own computer security firm and asks Ian to join him, and Ian struggles further.

It’s not until they visit the exclusive BDSM club the Iron Door that things come to a head. Kane screws up big time, and he’s afraid he can’t fix it. He’s sure he’ll lose his best friend, his Dom, his everything… forever.

Pre-0rder it now from Dreamspinner Press!



IAN COAXED his ancient Toyota into the parking spot next to Kane’s Accord and shut off the engine. He was exhausted. He’d gotten into a fight with the IT director again, was given another project to work on with the database developer whom he hated with a passion, and had been forced to sit through no less than three completely useless meetings in the afternoon. All he wanted to do was eat something and go kill something. Not necessarily in that order.

He dragged himself out of the car and locked it, tossing his bag over his shoulder. He trudged up the steps, giving a halfhearted wave at their elderly neighbor, a sweet old lady not entirely with it anymore. She was out on her balcony in little more than a nightgown, watering nearly dead plants. She smiled a wide, toothless smile and he gave a weak smile back.

He finally made it to the apartment door on the third floor. He slammed the door deliberately so Kane would know he was home, then kicked off his shoes, hung his keys up, and shed his jacket. He put it in the closet before heading down the hall.

Their living room wasn’t all that big, but they didn’t care. Half of it was taken up with their computer desks, stuffed next to each other and covering one entire wall. Opposite them was the large flat screen TV and entertainment center, complete with all three major gaming consoles, a home theater system, and large collection of movies and games. In front of the TV, between it and their desks, was the one piece of furniture they’d spent any real money on: their couch. They’d had more than a few friends crash with them, and they’d finally broken down and bought a decent one for them to sleep on. It had certainly come in handy a few times when they’d decided to fuck there in the living room too.

Ian shook his head at the thought and turned his attention to Kane. He had his headphones on and there was a battle going on the screen, one hand was on the keyboard, and the other was on the mouse.

“No, goddammit! He was… fuck. What do you mean you’re out of power? That’s not what I see! Just… send in the pet. Fine. Look, we’re in the bottom of fucking Moria. You can’t fuck around like that!”

Ian leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and watched the battle. There were way too many enemies for Kane’s group—he could see that from there.

Goddammit!” Kane shouted, ripping his headphones off and throwing them onto the desk.

“Pick-up group?” Ian asked.

Kane spun around, and Ian glanced over Kane’s shoulder to see his character’s corpse lying on the ground. “Yeah. Why do I get into them again?”

Ian shook his head. “I don’t know. They’re not usually that bad in Middle-earth, though, are they?”

“No, which is why I’m so pissed.” He sighed. “Must be the daytime players.”

“Want to order in tonight?” Ian asked, crossing the room to stand next to his friend.

“Chinese?” Kane looked up hopefully, and Ian laughed.

“Sure. If we can order from the place that does the sushi too.”

“Done!” Kane grinned and snatched at the menu he kept pinned to the small bulletin board over his desk. “How was your day?” he asked as he looked over the menu.

Ian sighed. “Long. Meetings all damned afternoon. I hate meetings. I hate people. And, um, don’t you have to deal with your group?” He pointed at the screen.

Kane shook his head. “No, I dropped it. I should port back, though.” He turned back to the computer and clicked a few things. His corpse revived, the pretty green swirls surrounded him, and the loading screen came up, complete with a twenty-four-inch version of a spider.

Ian shuddered and looked away. Instead, he turned to inspect his friend. He could tell something was bubbling under the olive skin and nearly black eyes. He knew it was very likely the old job, the new job hunt, and the frustration Kane was likely feeling over it. Kane always thought too much, spent way too much mental energy worrying about things.

“Did you work out today?” he asked, giving in and playing with a bit of Kane’s shaggy ebony hair.

“Yeah,” Kane said, and that one syllable told Ian enough: that while the workout might have done some, it most certainly wasn’t enough. He knew Kane would have gotten started on what he had to do, would have done what he felt he needed to, and hated every second of it. He was likely worried about money and not looking forward to working for another bullshit company with bullshit politics and bullshit people.

He knew his friend well.

They’d been friends since they were six. He’d met Kane one hot summer day behind his house, and from that point on, Kane had just always been there.

Kane spun back around in his chair and surprised Ian. He wrapped his arms around Ian’s waist and pulled until they were tight against each other, burying his face in Ian’s stomach.


It’s not that they never hugged or touched. They did—quite often, in fact, for two people who weren’t committed lovers, but this was… different.

“Sorry. Just….” He didn’t continue, instead shook his head a little.

At a loss for what to do, Ian wrapped his arms around Kane’s shoulders.

They stayed that way for a few moments, and then Kane pulled back. “I’m sorry. Just overthinking things today.” He peered up at Ian. “And you’re tired. Let’s get dinner ordered. Want to play for a while?”

Ian considered him for a moment. As much as he wanted to log in and play too, he knew Kane’s current state of mind was not conducive to making any kind of progress. They’d end up dying more than once; then they’d get frustrated over it. Death in the game was relatively painless, but it was still annoying and inconvenient. Which would only serve to make things worse.

Maybe what he needed was another type altogether. “Maybe. Maybe what you need is a different kind of play tonight.” Ian watched Kane’s eyes. His pupils expanded just a bit and his breathing quickened. “Would you like that, pet?”

“Yes, Sir.” Kane’s voice was clear and deferent, his eyes dropping away.

Ian’s own breath quickened and he worked to get hold of himself. “Very well. Strip, get the cushion, and get on your knees. Wait here for me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Kane answered, voice already rough with anticipation, and as Ian stepped away, he hurried to obey.

* * *

About Grace:


Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination. She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble. Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.

A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States. She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.

As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics. She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

WebsiteFacebookTwitterGoodreadsEmailAmazon Author Page


Guest Authors: Erin McRae and Racheline Maltese

 I’m very pleased to host the lovely Erin McRae and Racheline Maltese today! They’re talking about their new release Midsummer, the first in their Love’s Labours Series.

Thanks for visiting, ladies!

If you’ve ever been involved with a theater company that does Shakespeare, you know that somewhere, there’s always a skull, even when you’re not working on Hamlet. In Midsummer a real skull found on the grounds gets mistaken for a stage prop by a theater troupe’s eeriest actor. While a contemporary non-paranormal romance, Midsummer spends a lot of time with the possibility that we live in a magical world, and never really decides. After all, theater is a type of magic. We all suspend our disbelief and believe, at least for a little while.

But as much as theaters (and theater people), can be okay with the weird, and with hints of magic, an unexpected human skull tends to freak people out. The troupe’s reactions to this skull represent some of our favorite parts of this story to write. At one point the direct of the show event declares, when our hero swears it’s all no big deal, “There’s a skull in my dining hall!”

For everyone who has felt like the only sane man in a sea of peculiar events rapidly spirally out of control, we hope Midsummer‘s mystery skull b-plot will remind you that your day job could probably be worse.


John Lyonel, a long-time theater professional and teacher, heads to Virginia to play Oberon in the Theater in the Woods’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, intending to focus on his work. John is recovering from the tragic loss of his family and needs a break. The last thing he expects is to become captivated by Michael Hilliard, the professional actor playing Puck, especially since John has never been attracted to men, let alone one so much younger.

They rush headlong into an affair which falls apart dramatically over secrets that John and Michael are keeping from each other. A steep learning curve, the gossipy cast of the show, and the sometimes sinister magic of the woods conspire to keep them apart. But stage lights and stars might work their magic and help them define a new future.


Erin McRae is a queer writer and blogger based in Washington, D.C. She has a master’s degree in International Affairs from American University, and delights in applying her knowledge of international relations theory to her fiction and screen-based projects, because conflict drives narrative.

Racheline Maltese lives a big life from a small space. She flies planes, sails boats, and rides horses, but as a native New Yorker, has no idea how to drive a car. A long-time entertainment and media industry professional, she lives in Brooklyn with her partner and their two cats.

Together, they are co-authors of the gay romance series Love in Los Angeles, set in the film and television industry — Starling (September 10, 2014), Doves (January 21, 2015), and Phoenix (June 10, 2015) — from Torquere Press. Their gay romance novella series Love’s Labours, set in the theater world — Midsummer (May 2015), and Twelfth Night (Fall 2015), is from Dreamspinner Press. They also have a story in Best Gay Romance 2015 from Cleis Press and edited by Felice Picano. You can find them on the web at

Connect with Erin & Racheline online:

Blog | Facebook Page | Erin’s Twitter | Racheline’s Twitter | Erin’s Goodreads | Racheline’s Goodreads | Erin’s Amazon Author Page | Racheline’s Amazon Author Page

Buy Links:

Amazon | AllRomance | B&N | Dreamspinner


Costume fittings and dress rehearsals means that John finally gets to see Michael costumed as Puck. The human characters are dressed contemporarily, in suits and cocktail dresses that become increasingly disheveled as the show goes on. The fairies, though, are dressed in greens and browns with crowns of strange wildness — thistles, cornsilk, and Queen Ann’s lace. Michael as Puck looks deeply inhuman, covered in leaves as if dragged in from the wooded grounds. For their first dress rehearsal, it takes all of John’s considerable experience and willpower to actually focus on the play and not Michael. As taken as Oberon is meant to be with Puck, he should actually be able to remember and deliver his lines.

“Whose idea was this?” he asks Michael afterward, catching him before he can change. Michael blinks at him with eyes done up in silver and green. John wants to devour him.

“Do you like it?” Michael asks, more distant and coy than usual, sliding his hands up John’s chest which, like his own, is bare.

All John can do is groan when Michael looks up at him from under his lashes. He stands on his tiptoes to kiss John briefly, and then vanishes. When he reappears he’s Michael again, in t-shirt and shorts, but John can’t forget the image of him transformed.



Guest Author: Sight and Sinners by Susan MacNicol!

 Today i’m pleased to welcome back the lovely Susan MacNicol! She’s talking about the playlist for her latest release, and has brought an excerpt and giveaway. Thanks for visiting, Susan!

Playlist for Sight and Sinners

One of the things I really enjoy doing is creating my own play lists on Soundcloud. Each book I write inspires me to take a look at the different music out there on offer and find something new and fresh.

Of course, I have my old favourites, and you can see these in most of my playlists. The new Sight and Sinners playlist features some of my favourite music, and is a rather eclectic mix of old, new, classical and indie techno.

One of the composers I love is Julien Boulier, an artiste living in Brest, France. Julien was kind enough to let me use some of his music in my book trailers. He’s really talented and I love listening to the new pieces of music he showcases. You can find quite a bit of it in the Sights and Sinners playlist.

This is Julien’s profile if you want to check it out.

It’s something special listening to music as you write and something I do often. I do find that classical music is very inspiring and seems to spur me on when it comes to being creative. I’m not sure how many of you find this to be true?

There’s a really interesting article here by Steve Silberman that tackles this subject….

Contained in this article is an interesting link to an author called John Schwartz who wrote a NY Bestselling book about life with his gay son, affectionately titled ‘Oddly Normal’. You might like to take a look at the book here.


The man Taylor was blowing definitely didn’t know how the hell to keep quiet. Taylor’s lips were wrapped around his dick, while above him a man stood, panting and moaning, turning the air blue with his curses. Taylor stopped what he was doing, causing the blowjob recipient to groan in dismay, and glared at the sweaty face above him.

“For Christ’s sake, Georgie, can you stop it with the fucking porn noises?” He glanced around him nervously. “This is where I work, damn it, and if anyone hears you they’ll come outside to see what all the fuss is about.”

Georgie’s wide eyes cast a quick glance around the deserted alleyway behind ‘Music Mayhem’ where Taylor was employed, then looked down at Taylor kneeling between his legs.

“Sorry, mate, it’s just that you’re so damn good at this and it’s been a while.”


Buy Sight and Sinners:


Rafflecopter Prize: 2 copies of Double Alchemy and Double Alchemy: Climax
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Dates:


Rainbow Gold Reviews

Up All Night, Read All Day

Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words



MM Good Book Reviews

Inked Rainbow Reads



Nic Starr

Amanda C. Stone



The Novel Approach

Prism Book Alliance



Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews



Emotion in Motion

Wicked Wolves and Dreaming Dragons



Boy Meets Boy Reviews




Bike Book Reviews

Because Two Men Are Better Than One



Hearts on Fire



Parker Williams




Foxylutely Book Reviews

Decadent Delights



Wake Up Your Wild Side



Bayou Book Junkie

3 Chicks After Dark



Cate Ashwood



The Blogger Girls

Molly Lolly



Iyana Jenna



Cathy Brockman Romances

My Fiction Nook



Velvet Panic

Love Bytes



Kristy’s Brain Food



Multitasking Mommas

BFD Book Blog

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

About Susan:

Susan Mac Nicol is a self confessed bookaholic, an avid watcher of videos of sexy pole dancing men, self confessed geek and nerd and in love with her Smartphone. This little treasure is called ‘the boyfriend’ by her long suffering husband, who says if it vibrated, there’d be no need for him. Susan hasn’t had the heart to tell him there’s an app for that…

She is never happier than when sitting in the confines of her living room/study/on a cold station platform scribbling down words and making two men fall in love. She is a romantic at heart and believes that everything happens (for the most part) for a reason. She likes to think of herself as a ‘half full’ kinda gal, although sometimes that philosophy is sorely tested.

Lover of walks in the forest, theatre productions, dabbling her toes in the cold North Sea and the vibrant city of London where you can experience all four seasons in a day , she is a hater of pantomime (so please don’t tar and feather her), duplicitous people, bigotry and self righteous idiots.

In an ideal world, Susan Mac Nicol would be Queen of England and banish all the bad people to the Never Never Lands of Wherever -Who Cares. As that’s never going to happen, she contents herself with writing her HEA stories and pretending, that just for a little while, good things happen to good people.

Where to find the Susan:









Guest Author: Brynn Stein!

Today my guest is Brynn Stein–fellow Dreamspinner and Harmony Ink Press author! Welcome Brynn and thank you for visiting!

This is the ninth stop on my blog tour. I’m having such fun, as I always do on these tours, talking about various aspects of writing in general, and Ray of Sunlight in particular and getting to know all of you. Thanks so much for following the tour. If this is your first stop, feel free to go back and comment on the others, listed below, to be entered to win one of five prizes. More about that later.

Thanks so much for having me on your blog today, Charley. I always love dropping by.

Characters inspired by real life people…sort of.

I’ve already mentioned that Russ was inspired by my students and the homophobes in the story by the people I work with. Now I’d like to talk about CJ’s inspiration. At least part of it.

Years ago, when I was a homebound instructor, raising my own two small children, I taught a little girl with the same kind of cancer CJ has. Let’s call her Jessica.

Jessica was twelve and a half years old and had been fighting cancer for six months when I first met her. Because she was in and out of the hospital and even when she wasn’t she was way too sick to go to school, she need homebound instruction. That means the county schools paid for me to go into her home and work with her so she wouldn’t get too far behind in her studies.

When she was in the Children’s Hospital, of course, she had an educator on staff there who worked with her, but I still visited and kept up to date with what was going on with her. So, by virtue of working so closely with her, I know the symptoms of that kind of cancer, the toll chemo takes on a young body, how education in a children’s hospital works, and unfortunately, how it feels to lose someone so young to cancer.

I worked with her for almost two years. She had just turned fourteen when she went into the hospital for the last time. I visited her, as I always had, but she told me that day that she wouldn’t be there tomorrow. She said that for the first time in two years, she didn’t hurt. (She was always in pain, even with the high powered pain killers she was on). The nurses explained to me that that sometimes happens. The patient’s body shuts down enough toward the end that it doesn’t carry pain impulses anymore.

She was right. She died that evening. Her dad called me the next morning. (I didn’t know him as well as I knew her mom, but mom was justifiably distraught and wasn’t making phone calls.) I think I cried for the rest of the day. She wasn’t the first student I lost to death. And she wasn’t the last. But each one is devastating.

So, now, it feels like a little part of her is immortalized in CJ. He’s really nothing like her, except maybe that indomitable twinkle in his eye. He’s a different age; he has a very different home life. But still…Jessica is sort of the inspiration.


What about all of you? Writers, do you find that your characters are inspired by real life people? Maybe they’re not really anything like them, but the fact that you knew this one real life person went a long way toward your development of this fictional character? Readers, I’m sure far too many of you have had experience with loved ones, or at least people you know, having cancer. I’d love to hear your stories, if you’d like to share short memories, or better yet triumphs, of the people in your life who have fought or are fighting cancer.

Comment below for a chance to win.

Here’s how the giveaway will work. Visit as many sites as you want, as often as you want. Each comment will enter you to win one of the following prizes: 1st) An autographed paperback copy of Ray of Sunlight, 2nd) An electronic copy of Ray of Sunlight, 3rd) Your choice of audio or electronic copy of Living Again, 4th) An electronic copy of Through the Years, and 5th) an electronic copy of Haunted. The takeovers for Harmony Ink’s blog and Facebook page will be part of the tour, so comments on there will count. I will draw the winners during the FB takeover and will announce them then, but will come back and announce it to all the sites too. So, you don’t have to leave your email address here if you don’t want to, just remember to check back. You’re also welcome to leave your email in the comments if you’d rather or email me at with the subject heading of “just in case”, so I can contact you if you win, if you don’t want to have to stop back by the blog sites. You don’t have to be present at the FB takeover to win.

Thanks for playing.


Blog Tour Stops
3/3/2015 Bike Books Review
3/4/2015 Grace Duncan
3/5/2015 Susan Laine
3/6/2015 Jo Ramsey
3/7/2015 Alicia Nordwell
3/8/2015 Jana Denardo
3/9/2015 Lex Chase
3/10/2015 Sean Michael
3/11/2015 Charley Descoteaux and Charli Green
3/12/2015 Anne Barwell
3/13/2015 Karenna Colcroft
3/14/2015 Anna Butler
3/15/2015 Nic Starr
3/16/2015 Shae Conner
3/17/2015 Jessica Davies
3/18/2015 Aidee Ladnier
3/19/2015 Emma Tett
3/20/2015 Harmony Ink Blog
3/21/2015 Harmony Ink Facebook Page


Ray of Sunlight

Brynn Stein


Russ Michaels has his whole life ahead of him but no plans beyond dropping out of school as soon as he turns eighteen. He’s been in and out of juvenile detention for the last four years and thoroughly expects to end up in an adult penitentiary at some point. He hates life and everyone in it, especially this latest community service that he earned in lieu of juvie yet again.

CJ Calhoun has big plans. He wants to bring joy and happiness to sick and injured children for as long as he can by performing as a clown. The problem is, he has stage-four cancer and a horrible prognosis.

When circumstances throw these two polar opposites together, they find they have more in common than they imagined. CJ discovers Russ’s talent for art and arranges for Russ to create a mural in the hospital foyer, which leads to a tentative scholarship to the Art Institute. As life changes in ways neither of them could have expected, Russ must work harder than ever to better himself as CJ struggles with his deteriorating health.

Buy Ray of Sunlight:


Brynn Stein has always loved to write. Fan fiction, original fiction, whatever. While Brynn wrote in numerous genres—everything from mystery, to contemporary, to supernatural—she had always tended toward strong male characters. And then she discovered “slash,” male/male romance, and all those strong male characters were finally allowed to express their love for one another. It seems that there are always at least two characters clamoring to tell Brynn their story.

Brynn lives in Virginia near her two grown daughters who encourage her writing and provide a sounding board for fledgling stories. When she isn’t writing, Brynn teaches children with special needs. In free time, when such a thing exists, she reads anything she can get her hands on, and haunts bookstores. She draws and paints, and enjoys the outdoors—especially if she can get to the beach—and is always thinking about her next story.

Please feel free to contact Brynn at any of the following: