A few more sentences won’t hurt…

Hola Snippetteers!

Here’s another bit from SB, it picks up right where last week’s left off. We’re still in Ezra’s POV, so the “he” is Red. The usual caveat to squint while reading (and ignore the creative punctuation :)) applies.

 

He always wore nice button-down shirts, in videos or going to the Mini Mart in Drop—jewel-tone red, purple, black—that looked like silk.

“Where are you headed?”

“Nowhere, just out driving.”

Even in the dark I could see his brilliant smile; he probably paid good money for that whiteness. I couldn’t see his long black hair or whether he was clean shaven or had that short patch of beard he sometimes wore on his chin, but the smile did me in on its own.

“Where are you headed out here on foot in the middle of the night?” Red asked.

“Home.” A few steps closer won’t hurt. Maybe.

 

Thanks for reading, and for the “on sub” luck! *fingers still crossed*

Let me know what you think in the comments, and then head over to the Snippet Sunday group on Facebook for links to more snippets!

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More from the side of the road…

Hola Snippetteers!

Last week I promised a proper intro to my new story so here it is—along with another snippet.

My latest project that’s out on submission is an LGBTQ+ Romance featuring Ezra Cook, who was assigned female at birth and identifies as bisexual and genderqueer. Ezra is caregiver to older brother Tray, who’s living with early-onset Alzheimer’s, and they live in an unincorporated area outside the small town of Drop, Oregon. Drop is about halfway between Portland and the coast, near where i used to live, and is completely fictional. 🙂

The story, which i’ll call SB for now, is told in alternating first person POV. This snippet picks up right where we left off last week so we’re still riding along with Ezra, who was walking home in the dark and the rain when a car pulled off the road.

 

Red Richardson, also known as Ellred Long, the name he got the day he was born. Back from Los Angeles where he never really made it but came close enough to be a Big Man in this little backwash town of five hundred (give or take). What he was doing that far off the highway or any of the main roads, I had no clue.

“Hey,” he shouted. Even just hearing him shout you couldn’t help but know the man could sing. “Let me give you a lift. It’s starting to rain again.”

Slowly, to give myself time to figure out what was going on, I approached the passenger side of the car. I didn’t want to get in—that was trouble waiting to happen if I’d ever seen it—but I wasn’t looking forward to walking for another two hours either. I bent at the waist to look in the window, a safe four feet between me and the car; a blast of warm air hit my face and I tried not to look too hard at him.

Thanks for reading!

Let me know what you think in the comments, and then head over to the Snippet Sunday group on Facebook for links to more snippets!

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It’s been a while…

Hola Snippetteers!

I’ve missed you guys! Today i hit send on another novel, so i thought i’d share a bit and see what you-all think. And if the story gets a little “on sub” luck out of the deal, so much the better.

These are the first 10 sentences so i’ll hold off on an intro for now, but will warn you that this is an unedited snippet, best read while squinting. 🙂

 

It had been a while since the last time a moving vehicle hit me, but I wasn’t in the mood to take chances. The night was dark—no moon and only a smattering of stars peeking between the clouds, but at least the rain had stopped—and even though the county road I walked along was flat I’d just passed a blind turn. A blind turn the locals had been known to straighten now and then, especially when the weekend and low visibility coincided.

I ran toward the neighbor’s fence, their patched fence with a boulder guarding the apex of the turn, and hoped whoever sat behind the wheel didn’t mean to run me down. The way my luck was going that night, with the unexpected rain and Granddad’s truck quitting, it surprised me when the car stopped and I still stood upright.

The GTO, the 1964 stock GTO that I knew to be deep purple but looked black just then, rocked gently and then settled. It rocked again when he leaned across the seat to roll the window down. Even if he’d seen the truck he wouldn’t know who I was. He’d left town before we moved here, and only one thing about me is at all noteworthy anyway. Everyone knew the day he came back to town.

 

Thanks for reading!

Let me know what you think in the comments, and then head over to the Snippet Sunday group on Facebook for links to more snippets!

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A “first time” snippet…

Hand drawing heart in sand on the beachHola, Snippeteers!

 

This has been one crazy summer at Casa Des and I’ve missed everyone at Snippet Sunday.

Here’s a long one, to make up for being away. It’s from Buchanan House, which will be released on Wednesday! This is Eric and Tim’s first date so there’s a little awkward to go with the smexy.

 

Tim rested his palm on Eric’s chest and slowly turned toward him. They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Tim didn’t look away when he unbuttoned Eric’s shirt and eased him back against the arm of the couch. By the time Tim’s lips found his, Eric was almost squirming in anticipation. Tim kissed him until he felt like he’d become part of the sofa, as though his muscles had no tension but that which Tim shared with him.

Eric whimpered when Tim’s mouth left his and began a slow exploration of his body. He’d thought maybe Tim didn’t have much experience making love, or maybe he’d just hoped they would be on even footing in that arena. It didn’t take long before he was proven very wrong. And how wonderfully wrong he was. Maybe Tim hadn’t always been so reserved and inscrutable, or maybe men on the coast cared less about things like that. In Portland, if you weren’t a social butterfly, you might as well be invisible.

Just then, Eric couldn’t be mistaken for invisible. Tim’s lips and tongue, his hands and the warm weight of his body, made Eric feel more than he’d felt… ever. He’d never made any noise during his few stolen encounters with his “boyfriend” while Jewell spent time with friends. Before long, Eric was convinced it was all about his partner. All about the ways Tim touched him, the way Tim sighed in open appreciation when he freed Eric from his clothes. Tim Tate had him moaning like a porn star, and the kicker was, Eric didn’t feel one iota of embarrassment or self-consciousness. Nothing but wonderful.

 

Thanks for reading!

If you’d like to read the whole story it’s available for pre-order from all the usual places, and will be released on Wednesday, August 19th! I have a book blast and blog tour planned, with giveaways of course. The schedule is here and i’ll be updating it with links as the posts go live to make it easier to enter.

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 Check out more flashes of fiction at Snippet Sunday, you’ll be glad you did!

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Red, blue…and brown?

Hand drawing heart in sand on the beachHappy Snippet Day!

Now that the witches are out in the world i’m turning my attention to my August release, Buchanan House, a nice, normal contemporary ERom. I’ve shared from it before, but not for a while.

Since it’s 4th of July weekend, here’s a slightly holiday themed snippet. Eric, the MC, is a chef so–fair warning–i’ve been told that reading this story will make you hungry. I must be hungry right now because the food sections are calling to me louder than the smexy ones. Maybe next week… 😉

 

Eric greeted his bleary-eyed family with coffee and chocolate chip-blueberry pancakes with strawberry compote. Everyone sat around the long table and made appropriately quiet yummy noises to save the slightly hungover Nathan and Paulie from the pain of the full force of their appreciation.

“You guys have to tell me how you like this breakfast. I’m thinking of serving it opening weekend.” The table’s complement pointedly looked away from him. The only explanation Eric could think of was that the food didn’t fit the theme. “Fourth of July weekend?”

“Red, blue, and brown doesn’t scream Fourth of July.” Alex seemed to be startled by her own voice.

“But they’re delicious,” Nathan purred.

 

Thanks for reading!

 Check out more flashes of fiction at Snippet Sunday, you’ll be glad you did!

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It’s all Greek to me…

PinchOfTheGame[The]FSHola Snippetteers!

Yesterday got away from me but better late than never, yeah?

Here’s another snippet from The Pinch of the Game. I’ve posted some smexy bits, and some worldbuilding, and today i’m sharing a little magick. I’m up against the limit of what i can post from this story now, though, so i’ll have to figure out something new for next week. 🙂

 

 

“Hey.” Michael growled, low and menacing. It turned me on more than it should have. “Maybe you want to keep your voice down? We’re not alone here.”

“See what I mean? I don’t mean to insult you, Michael, but those two over there are listening because they think it’s cool we’re speaking Greek.”

“Greek?”

“Yes. They haven’t understood a word of what we’ve said, and they won’t unless I want them to.” I charmed the taste from the rest of that rotgut scotch, and tossed it back like it was smooth single malt.

Thanks for reading!

If you’d like to read the rest of The Pinch of the Game, today is a good time to buy. My 2nd anniversary sale runs through the 28th at the Dreamspinner store, and all of my stories are 30% off.

Okay, now it’s time to visit more snippets. If you didn’t come from there (or even if you did :)), check out the Snippet Sunday group on Facebook. Have a lovely Sunday!

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Out of context…

poker5-01-111413-2065Hola Snippetteers!

Finally, a weekend in which I’m not so busy there’s no time for snippets!

Here’s a bit from The Pinch of the Game. If you like it, you can read the whole thing starting Wednesday!

Incidentally, that’s also when you can get context for this snippet. 😉

 

“You don’t have to—”

“There’s a lot I have to do. And the first thing is to get you out of these.” He fumbled with the first button on my shirt, but made quick work of the rest. He sighed, a soft rush of air across my chest. It could’ve been intentional, or maybe not, but that sigh suspended time for a few beats. Or maybe that was my imagination, because the sensation only lasted seconds, and then we were both pushing off our clothes, kicking shoes across the room, and stumbling over each other to the bed.

 

Thanks for reading!

Okay, now it’s time to visit more snippets. If you didn’t come from there (or even if you did :)), check out the Snippet Sunday group on Facebook. Have a lovely Sunday!

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Craving chocolate?

Hand drawing heart in sand on the beachHola Snippeteers!

This week I’m sharing from the Oregon Coast story, now simply titled Buchanan House. Edits are going well, and I should have a cover soon…then it’s on to a mid-August release!

Putting this snippet in context would be spoilery, so hopefully it’ll stand on its own well enough. The first dialogue is Tim’s.

 

 

“Nate’s always watching everything and everyone, figuring the angles. He lives very much aware of his surroundings.”

“And where do I live?”

“You live in the beautiful and creative space—” Tim took Eric’s face in both big, warm hands and leaned closer. “—right here. You think about flavors and textures and how to make people happy.” Tim softly touched his lips to Eric’s—reverently, like he was tasting the finest chocolate. He held Eric’s face in his hands, the hands that could tear down walls and lay bricks and, evidently, also be so gentle they wouldn’t dent the fuzz on a baby duck. Eric savored the warmth of Tim’s kiss, the feeling spreading from his lips throughout his body not unlike a rich Irish coffee. Tim pulled back, just a bit, and gazed deeply into Eric’s eyes. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

 

Okay, now i feel a little bad for being so cagey about the context, so here’s the blurb.

Eric Allen, thirty-three-year-old line cook, moved in with his grandmother, Jewell, after a disastrous coming-out when he was in middle school. She raised him, and he cared for her when she fell ill. When Jewell died she left everything to Eric—angering his parents and older brother. The inheritance isn’t much, but Eric and his bestie Nathan pool their money and buy an abandoned hotel on an isolated stretch of the Central Oregon Coast. The hotel isn’t far from Lincoln City—a town with its own Pride Festival and named for a president—so they christen it Buchanan House after James Buchanan, the “confirmed bachelor” president with the close male friend.

Eric and Nathan need a handyman to help them turn Buchanan House into the gay resort of their dreams. Eric finds Tim Tate in the local listings and over the months leading to opening weekend Tim reveals himself as a skilled carpenter with many hidden talents. Eric falls hard for Tim, but before he can see a future with the gorgeous handyman he has to get over twenty years of being bullied and shamed by his birth family. It would be much easier if Eric’s brother Zach weren’t trying to grab part of the inheritance or ruin opening weekend.

Thanks for reading!

Don’t forget to visit the other snippets. Click all the links at the Snippet Sunday FB group. You’ll be glad you did. 🙂

 Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

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12 days and counting…

poker5-01-111413-2065It’s that time again, when authors share snippets from a WIP or a new release, or maybe an upcoming release.

I’m counting the days until The Pinch of the Game appears on Dreamspinner’s Coming Soon page, and that’s got me thinking about things like how the story began and how it will be received. I can’t affect the latter, so i’m dwelling on the former. This snippet is part of the original flash piece. The first line is Jeffrey’s.

 

“Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Don’t you usually bring an army to storm a castle?”

“You can’t run away screaming like a little girl.”

“But I am a little girl.” I crossed my arms over my flat girl-chest and blew my bangs out of my eyes.

“On the outside.”

Before I could say another word, he grabbed me in a bear hug and dove behind a couple of big rocks. Michael exited the roll on his feet, gun in hand. That’s my man.

“Don’t look at me like that when you’re… like that. It’s wrong on so many levels.”

 

Here’s a little extra, since i’m not giving any intro to the snippet. This is part of the dedication for The Pinch of the Game.

To Siobhan Muir, the brilliant mind and sharp eyes behind Thursday Threads and Teddy Bear Thursdays. This story would never have been written without you.

Thank you, Siobhan, for your friendship and support. I love the way you do Thursdays. *hugs*

Thanks for reading!

Have fun visiting the other snippets at the Snippet Sunday FB group.

 Enjoy the rest of your weekend, lovelies!

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A twist to an object…

Hola Snippetteers!

I’ve been MIA lately, the combination of the DJ being extra-Evil and many author duties has been brutal. That condition should continue at least through June but who needs sleep, right? 😉 Hopefully I’ll be able to participate in Snippet Sunday regularly again—I missed everyone!

Before I get to the snippet I have two announcements. The witch story (Jeffrey and Michael)—The Pinch of the Game—will go up for pre-order on May 22nd! I have a cover reveal planned, with a Rafflecopter giveaway, so stop by here or Facebook for a link. This cover is a beaut!

The book formerly known as the wrecking yard romance has a new title, Torque, and is scheduled for release in February of 2016 by Samhain! I’m over the moon about this, so i’m sharing a bit from Torque today.

In this snippet, Mick (MC#1) is hanging out with Scotty (MC#2) at his place. After pizza, movies, and beer, this is what happens.

 

He thought for a second that Scott leaned toward him once or twice, in a way that was a little more than friendly, but it had to be the beer. Mick Randall wasn’t a stranger to self-medicating with alcohol but before he found Bell’s he hadn’t had a lot of money to spare, and lately he hadn’t had the time. Together, those circumstances had turned him into a lightweight.

Mick wasn’t capable of walking in a straight line by the time he hit the can, but it didn’t matter. Four beers was plenty and he’d take the other two out of Scott’s fridge the next day and remember not to bring more. If he wanted a drink, he wouldn’t have to drive far. When he left the bathroom his thoughts centered on that warm, happy feeling, and what he could get up to the next day. Before he knew what was happening, Scott had him backed against the wall, both hands spread across his chest.

 

Thanks for reading!

Don’t forget to visit the other snippets. Click all the links at the Snippet Sunday FB group.

 Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

rainbow rosephoto credit: cal_gecko via photopin cc