Posts Tagged ‘manlove’
Time for a little Saturday Backlist Love. Tougher To Love is the story before my upcoming release, Second Chance Summer. A small town mechanic, a new to town Sheriff, and a murder that involves both.
Author: Diana DeRicci
Cover Artist: Anastasia Rabiyah
Genre: Gay Erotic Romance/M/M
Length: Novel, 47,611 words, 133 pages PDF
Release Date: February 1, 2012
Heat Level: Erotic
Warnings: Gay Male/Male
What readers have been saying:
taken on [a] journey … woven a beautiful tapestry of love and commitment.
The snow hasn’t even attempted to thaw when Ian’s life is turned upside down. His only sister is murdered, leaving him as the sole family to his 14 year-old niece. As an uncle, he’d been there for them, but he is clueless when it comes to actually seeing to Terra’s wellbeing. Muddling through, they become closer, healing together through the trauma, and slowly begin to feel like family.
Ian has a deep secret though. Not even Terra’s mother knew, and when Caleb is the officer to deliver a freezing and terrified niece to his door, that secret is in jeopardy of being blown sky-high.
Ian topped off their mugs then led them out of the kitchen to the living room. Caleb guessed he’d been in that house for years, maybe it had even been left to him. It was reminiscent of the one-level shaker homes in the area, wide open with large windows and spacious rooms. He didn’t have a lot of furniture to fill it, so the wood flooring dominated the rooms.
“Ever get your heater replaced?”
Ian chuckled, motioning to a rocker. He claimed the stuffed recliner, making himself comfortable. “No, we made it through another winter. I’ll have to do something about it this summer. I doubt it’ll manage another.”
“How is she holding up? How are you?”
Ian’s rising hand slowed, but he slurped a bit to let it lower. “We’re managing. She’s talked to the counselor at school once or twice. Maria didn’t have anything left over after the debts were covered. The car is in the garage for Terra when she’s sixteen. That much was paid for.”
“Have you talked to anyone about it?” Caleb leaned with his elbows on his knees, asking gently. The movement brought him fairly close to Ian.
“No. Just waiting for the word that Striker has been caught. Will she have to ID him?”
Ian’s shoulders rolled. “That’s good. I don’t want to keep dragging her back to what happened to her if I don’t have to. I want her to heal.”
Caleb reached and settled a hand above Ian’s knee. “She’s a smart girl, Ian. Tough. She was scared the morning I found her and probably lost, being in pain.”
Almost instantly, Caleb realized what he’d done, felt the hard strength of Ian’s thigh as he flexed under Caleb’s braced palm. Soaked up the heat of jean covered skin through his palm. Ian had solid thighs, long legs. He knew the man owned a Harley. Caleb bet he made a sexy, imposing sight on it. If men gawked unashamedly at women in public, then he was just as guilty, though quietly, for doing it with men.
He removed his hand, though he fought not to yank it away. Not because he hadn’t wanted to do that, but because he’d been wanting to for a long time. Just touch him.
His pulse thudded thickly for a moment. He sat straight as if nothing but a moment of male comfort had occurred.
That was until he glimpsed a stolen look from Ian and caught him watching Caleb through heavy, midnight lashes. Not annoyed, or even ticked. They weren’t friends, hardly more than acquaintances, but there was definitely something in that look. If read the right way, it could mean a lot more than Caleb had expected or anticipated. He’d certainly not hoped for it, but that look had borne hope, and that meant it was time to vacate. Now.
Ian palmed the scattered cards and Caleb stood to get the container for the beans. He placed the deck in the cabinet where he’d seen Caleb find it, however he wasn’t expecting to turn and find himself face to face with the other man.
He felt his heart leap to a new gear, his pulse surging against his neck. The counter cut into his lower spine as parts of him went weak with wanting.
“It’s been a long time, Caleb,” he managed, almost a croak. His throat had gone dry.
“Tell me if you remember how to do this.” Caleb’s breath was warm over Ian’s lips, his mouth coming closer.
Ian’s brain was screaming at him to move, that he couldn’t do this, but his body, and okay, his dick, were giving his sense of preservation the finger because the rest of him wanted this. Caleb knew his secret, and as he studied those patient blue eyes, Ian realized he trusted the man behind that penetrating stare.
Caleb’s rough fingers glided down Ian’s forearm, a light stroke and Ian’s breathing staggered in answer. Then there was nowhere to hide, no way to run because Caleb’s lips were touching his and in that instant, Ian’s brain shut up.
Warmth flooded his body. His heart pounded. And God, his cock throbbed. Ian moaned a low sound, craving, wanting, starving, and not realizing how badly until that moment in time. Caleb shifted, tilting closer and Ian’s eyelids dropped like weights, leaving him in sensory overload.
Gentle hands encircled his bare forearms, roaming upward until discovering palms stopped at the apex of his shoulders. Fingertips lightly scratched the sides of his throat. Ian’s hand found the denim of Caleb’s jeans waist and latched on, hanging on to not melt to the floor. The other was grasping the counter in a knuckled grip.
A strong tongue circled his lips and Ian met his curiosity, stroking out to find Caleb. Rumbles and purrs were his reward. If he’d forgotten how to kiss, Caleb was well versed to reinstruct him, to refresh his memory. Heat danced along Ian’s spine. Hunger gnawed at him, pooling low in his belly, sinking into his balls. Waves of desire were rolling over him.
Then Caleb went a little further, cupping Ian’s nape to play with his hair, threading his fingers through the strands reaching for Ian’s collar. Shivers cascaded down from the playful caresses.
Each heartbeat brought them closer and closer until Caleb covered him, snug against Ian’s frame with the counter behind him. Solid muscles and a rock hard cock pressed into him. Before Ian sank too deep in the lust-filled daze, he jerked Caleb’s hip tight into his groin, grinding in a hard, circular motion. Caleb groaned, a shudder echoing down his body right after.
Ian was moving before he even knew what he’d intended. Another tug, a twist and a spinning step and Caleb was the one captured against the counter. Their mouths tore apart, ragged panting filling the kitchen.
Blue eyes glittered like a summer sky. Generous lips were red and full, and just right for more kisses. Ian bet he’d have that same look after going down on him, and he could imagine it. Clearly.
He swept his tongue over his tingling lip then decided doing it to Caleb would be even better.
Shivers stole over Caleb’s shoulders as his eyes closed to savor.
“I think you remember just fine,” he said, graveled and low with need. Lashes raised slowly. “Even better than I’d imagined.”
|Title||What I See in You|
|ISBN#||978-1-60820-8012 (ebook) $4.99|
|Release Date||December 2012|
|Cover Artist||Deana C. Jamroz|
Kennedy has no use for holidays, and suffers through the pageantry. When Angel moves to town to be
closer to his brother, Cupid strikes in a big way. Before he knows it, Kennedy is being courted, chased,
and wooed. Angel is determined to open Kennedy’s heart and isn’t above using the spirit of the holidays
to crack the wall surrounding it.
It was the twinkling lights that annoyed him. Clear or colored it didn’t matter. It was always the ones that they wrapped around the poles and trees like freakin’ little fairy butts, all sparkly and… Well, holiday-wintery-cheery-and-
Not that Arbor Heights cared about one man’s distaste for all the garish pomp and circumstance they had to trot out annually like a dog and pony show. All it did was clutter up stuff. Streetlight poles on corners with wreaths that stuck out to there. Lights that hung beneath their wire supports, just low enough to taunt passing high-profile trucks. It was a miracle — the real kind — that entire city blocks of wire and electrical cables weren’t ripped to the ground annually. Wouldn’t that be a hoot? They’d lose their precious internet for what? A day? All for the sake of some ridiculous lights.
A ladder truck! That would be priceless! He jeered as he picked his way down the sidewalk, avoiding other pedestrians and smiling at none.
Kennedy didn’t smile at strangers. They wanted to stop and talk. Kennedy didn’t do that either.
Winter had settled in with a vengeance, though the official day was still sometime in the near future. He just knew it was friggin’ cold. Seasons meant little other than a need to change his stored wardrobe with whatever was already in the closet. Snow coated the curb where the street crews had attempted to make the streets survivable; passable was always up for debate. He tucked his chin into the cowl collar of his coat, staring upward and forward through his lashes. His hands dug deep into his pockets. Puffs of iced air proved he lived.
Should just leave here, he silently bitched. It was the same complaint every year. Why he didn’t get up and go, he didn’t really know. Better to stay with the monster you know, he supposed.
Kennedy Myles had been born and raised in Arbor Heights, and couldn’t find the inclination to actually leave, even though he hated it there. It was more than that. He’d hate anywhere he went, so why bother?
At least in Arbor Heights he felt safe in comfortable surroundings, even if he knew very few people and called even fewer friends. It was still his home. All it took was one hour of news on any national channel to know how well the world would suffer one like him. Kennedy was one of them, one of the gay. The type of man women refused to make eye contact with and who would scurry past him with their children in disgust, and men… Second Amendment Rights said it all. He wasn’t a fool. He stayed quiet, stayed under the radar, and no one knew or cared. He was just another person on the street, a person behind a door that no one even had to talk to if they didn’t want to. If he didn’t want to.
Which he didn’t.
He watched his footing on the sidewalk, but the crunch of salt proved that either the city or the other shopkeepers on the stretch had taken preemptive measures against the ice. He slid a key ring from his pocket and opened the door he’d stopped at. Inside, he replaced the lock and to begin opening the small jewelry repair store.
As habitual as the seasons themselves, he strode through the store to the rear to deactivate the alarm and then hung his coat on one of the large wall hooks. Stretching his shoulders with a good arm reach, he opened the safe and began to set up the trays for the front of the store. Elspeth would be in shortly to finish setting up.
After a quick review to count pieces and a head nod that all was as he’d left it the night before, he turned for the small counter to make tea for himself and coffee for the front. He didn’t drink the coffee, but he understood consumer dynamics. Give customers a reason to linger and they likely purchased.
The front door unlocked again while he was finishing up with the hot drinks.
“Morning, Kennedy,” Elspeth offered as she appeared in the doorway, as bundled against the cold as he himself had been.
“Morning,” he replied while she hung up her coat.
She went about setting up the register, taking the drawer from the safe, when she asked, “Did you see the ring request on your table?”
“No, I haven’t.”
She counted out bills quickly. “It was brought in right before closing. I told the gentleman I’d have you look at it and see if it could be done.”
It was too early in the morning for Kennedy to be chipper as both went about the routine of opening the store in the comfort of practiced ease and quiet. Kennedy didn’t do mornings well. Thankfully, Elspeth knew this and usually allowed him his first cup of tea before trying to draw him into the living.
Elspeth had been a good friend and co-worker for several years. She was also one of the few who knew he was gay, though he’d never directly said. She’d just known, surprising him ages ago by asking if he was with someone. Casual conversation. When he’d cautiously said no, she’d suggested the son of a friend. Appreciative, he’d declined and then hid for almost an hour trying to get over the shock.
With a cup of tea in hand, he propped himself on his stool behind his worktable in the best-lit corner of the store, and clicked on the magnification light. The store wasn’t very large; there were only a few display cases, as much of what he did was repair and refurbish. Kennedy had a fairly broad inventory range, from a few high-end pieces, including a couple he, himself, had created, to basic bands and chains.
He saw the image on his table beneath a paperweight. “This? He wants to destroy this broach?” Kennedy bit back more of his disgust. The small, round broach was beautiful, with peacock green and blue stones. He’d have to see it in hand to determine the actual stones, but by the clarity alone, he’d say they were semi-precious, like tourmalines. Very rich greens and blues that sparkled like ocean water.
“He said he’d be by this morning to discuss the designs with you.”
The Charlie Factor
By: Diana DeRicci | Other books by Diana DeRicci
Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Palm DOC/iSolo, Microsoft Reader, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc), Rocket, Epub
Also available at Purple Sword Publications and other retailers, soon on Kindle.
About the book
One, recovering from near deadly injuries; the other, unaware of what he’s been missing in his life. What one man can do, may heal them both.
Charlie Baker is recovering, slowly. Nearly dying tends to make a man reflect on each day. Take into account that his injuries were caused by a premeditated murder attempt, and he certainly isn’t looking for a lover. He is barely welcoming to a friend unable to trust anyone, preferring to hide from the world hours and miles away from the memories.
Gregory Anders hadn’t intended to disturb the man in silent contemplation on the beach, but when his pup, Samson, takes matters out of his hands, he’s forced to at least apologize for his pet’s behavior. There’s no doubt for Gregory that Charlie could use a friend. Clearing the air up front that he isn’t gay helps Charlie to relax, allowing for the cautious beginning of a friendship.
Two men, both alone, for different reasons. What happens when friendship bears more? When support and affection turns into attraction?
Do you take the chance of a lifetime, for the love a lifetime?
An excerpt from the book
Gregory had the oddest urge to soothe him, to hold Charlie, ease the torment he suffered. He got the door unlocked to push it in. “Come on. Let’s get inside.” Once in, he found a light switch. He held Charlie close, his head on Gregory’s shoulder. The scent of warm skin and clean male engulfed Gregory’s senses. There was no doubt his heart was reacting to it, because his heart wasn’t alone. His skin felt flushed everywhere Charlie touched, even the harsh pants of his breathing through his shirt. Gregory pushed it away. He couldn’t think about it now. Not when Charlie was barely standing, and gritting his teeth in frustration and pain. “How are you feeling now?”
“Like I want to shoot myself,” came the flat snarl.
“Shut up.” Gregory wasn’t sure there wasn’t a level of truth to that statement, as despondent as he sounded. “You don’t have a gun, do you?”
Charlie barked a sour laugh. “No. I’m pissed, not suicidal.”
His groused reply calmed the rising fear in Gregory. “Okay. Can you stand yet?” Gregory had been embracing Charlie for a few minutes, one of Charlie’s arms clutched around Gregory’s waist for support with his own arms around Charlie’s frame. Gradually, the tremors and heaves that had rocked his body ceased.
Whether it was accidental or not, a shift of weight brought their bodies closer. Gregory froze as their lengths came together.
Charlie was sporting a hell of a boner behind his jeans. It stole Gregory’s breath away.
Charlie cleared his throat. “Yeah, I think I can now.” The raw depth of those words shook him.
They straightened, but when they should have let their arms release each other, neither did. Gregory stared into his smoldering green eyes. Daring green eyes that whispered promises and hungry desires. Things that Gregory didn’t understand and couldn’t imagine, but felt safe with Charlie. A current that kept him frozen as surges of desire swept over him.
Charlie leaned forward, just a fraction, and Gregory felt panting breath on his lips. His heart pounded. Blood raced. Skin burned. There was no doubt his cock was paying attention, because it was growing painfully hard inside his jeans.
The epiphany was startling, shocking, and confusing as hell.
He was attracted to Charlie.
But he couldn’t be. Gregory wasn’t gay.
Gregory blinked and unwound his hold. The urge to flee screamed at him. “You okay?”
Charlie’s gaze sank, gold lashes hiding him. “Yes. Thank you.” With a purposeful effort, Charlie steadied his weight on his cane, releasing Gregory’s waist completely. “Seems you’re always picking me up off the ground.”
“That’s what friends do,” he managed, trying for flippant and coming out way too tender. He sent the order to his brain to make his legs take a step away. They finally obeyed. “I better get home. Samson probably has to pee a river.”
Charlie chuckled, though it sounded forced. Slipping out the door, Gregory escaped to his still-running Jeep with long, ground-eating strides. He slammed the door closed and released a shuddering breath. The man had been turned on, and unless he needed to take Chemistry 101 again, Charlie had almost kissed him, came damned close to kissing him.
What shook Gregory’s world was that Charlie wasn’t the only one who had been feeling the attraction. The sheer want had been electric. Gregory couldn’t recall feeling the need to close the gap between his lips and Charlie’s like he had just now. Not between himself and a woman, and never with another man. A shudder rocked him as he maneuvered the Jeep onto the road.