Sunday, September 30, 2018

Sunday Spotlight - Bailey Bradford and Mr. October

Welcome Bailey Bradford back to Sunday Spotlight! She's sharing a bit from her upcoming release, Mr. October!


Mr. October
Calendar Men, Book 10

by Bailey Bradford

It’s not just the ghosties and the ghouls that you’ve got to watch out for on Halloween!

Jerome is an artist—in his opinion, anyway. Not everyone would agree that what he does is art, but he’d beg to differ. He has a niche following and his business picks up around Halloween. When a handsome stranger walks into his gallery, the attraction that crackles to life between them is instantaneous, and scarier than anything Jerome has ever created.

He’s quirky and possibly downright weird, but for some reason, the sexy doctor seems to be into him. Jerome isn’t sure he can trust the feelings developing between them, and when someone decides Jerome’s studio needs to go, he fears he’ll never have the chance to see what kind of life he could have with Kaito.

Kaito Yoshida is a successful pediatric oncologist, and a complicated man. As serious as any doctor in his position while working, he’s missed out on a lot of things in his personal life. An encounter that, at first, is mortifying, leads to Kaito daring to take a step he’s never bothered to take before.

He doesn’t expect to fall for Jerome Johnson, or for Jerome to fall for him.
And neither of them expect the obstacles they will encounter on the way to love.

General Release Date: 9th October 2018

Copyright © Bailey Bradford 2018. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Pride Publishing.

Jerome Johnson grunted as he put the finishing touches on the steer’s skull he had decorated. Since Halloween was approaching, he’d used shades of orange, yellow, and red, along with black, of course, to paint the scene of goblins and other scary monsters dancing along the flat of the skull. He’d debated adding some ghosts, but those were all over the place in October art work. He liked his monsters better. Some were from his imagination, and others from semi-popular lore. Jerome avoided doing what was popular or expected as often as he could, although there were times he had commissions for such things that he couldn’t turn down. Artistic integrity didn’t always buy groceries, and whether he liked the monsters he had to create or not, he always put his full effort into making them. As his dad always said, ‘don’t come half-stepping. If you are going to do something, do it right and full-steam ahead.’ His dad was a Marine—no retired allowed to be added to preface that grand title—and a wise man.
“Hey, boss, that is awesome!”
Jerome glanced up as his assistant and apprentice bounded into the room Jerome used as his studio. It was not quite in the back of the gallery, because the moonlight there wasn’t great thanks to the big building behind them that often blocked the silvery rays he found inspiring.
“What’s that?” Edge pointed to a creature gnawing on its intestines.
“No idea, but it seems sufficiently gross, so I had to paint it.” The figure was humanoid, with two expressive heads. One was eating and the other was screaming in agony.
Edge bent closer. “That’d make an awesome tattoo. Oh, wow, you’ve got a whole bunch of almost-microscopic monsters on this bad boy!”
They weren’t that small, but someone without a discerning eye might mistake the chupacabras smoking a bowl of weed to be nothing more than swirls of color denoting rocks or shrubbery. He’d kept their outlines vague to anyone who didn’t really pay attention.
“This is—”
“Awesome?” Jerome interrupted, raising both eyebrows at his apprentice.
Edge blushed. “Sorry. I’m trying, but it slips out all the time.”
“There are so many other words to choose from,” Jerome teased. “Live a little. Be—”
Edge groaned and covered his eyes with his hands. “Please, no.”
“Edgy,” Jerome finished.
Edge lowered his hands and stuck his tongue out at Jerome. “You’re the worst, you know that?”
“Go read the thesaurus, or work on the window display.” Jerome made a shooing motion with his hands. “You could also start on that new sculpture you sketched out. Get.”
“I’m not ready to tackle the sculpting yet. I have to get over my fear of failure first.” Edge sighed as if he had the worst job ever as he left the studio.
Jerome knew it was an act, except for the part about fear of failure. The first ‘real’ art piece, as Edge described it, was intimidating. Jerome remembered how he’d felt when he’d decided to give his art a chance and try to make a living with it. He’d been terrified.
But he’d moved past the fear, used it to his advantage and made a horrifying painting of a man being ripped apart by bloody, not always human hands. His rendering of The Power of Fear had been spotted by a wealthy art collector and Jerome had been eking out a living ever since.
He’d seen the same potential to create in Edge—which wasn’t his real name. Edge had begged to be taken on as his apprentice for months after the first time he’d entered Jerome’s s gallery. Edge had showed him sketches and Jerome had been impressed, but hesitant to take on an employee. The second time Edge had shown up with a split lip and a defeated countenance, Jerome had hired him. He didn’t know much about Edge’s home life, but he suspected bad things had happened to him before he’d moved out shortly after Jerome had signed his second paycheck.
Jerome only knew that fact because Edge had asked him if he had any ideas where Edge could get cheap furniture for his ‘crappy’ apartment.
Jerome shook off his lazy thoughts. He was content sitting there doing nothing for the moment. His cat was clawing for dominance today and he’d have liked to shift and curl up on the desk so he could take a long nap.
Unfortunately for him, he had a deadline to meet. The steer skull he’d done had been for fun. And maybe because he’d procrastinated tackling the commissioned painting he needed to do. He’d been in the mood to work on anything but canvas the past few weeks.
“Oh, well.” He could get over himself and start on the zombie bride and groom portrait. The couple who’d commissioned the piece had married on a Halloween night in the past, and this coming one would be their ten-year anniversary. He should be more excited, having been given creative license with their portrait. It was just that he was a teeny bit envious of their relationship. He kept finding Mr. Wrong every time he dated.
“Maybe if I picked better.”
“Boss? Are you talking to yourself again?” Edge called out from the other room.
Jerome snorted. “Only way I’ll have an intelligent convo.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Edge retorted. “More like you’re the only one who wants to talk to you.”
Before Jerome could think of an answer, the doorbell chimed, and Edge greeted whatever customer had entered the place. Most people came in to look, not shop. More than once, Jerome’s gallery had been referred to as ‘macabre’, ‘depressing’ and more often, ‘weird’. He didn’t care. At least he wasn’t the one coming in to gawk at something while tossing about an air of superiority.
Okay, maybe it irks me a little. Sighing, he got up from his favorite stool and stretched, arching his back, purring as it popped in a few places. He twisted to the left, then the right, working out some of the stiffness that came with sitting and hunching over a piece for too long.
The finished skull caught his attention again. There was a little more blood and gore in the details than usual, particularly in the last images he’d added. He might have been angrier than he’d realized over the phone call from his ex a couple of nights ago.
Jerome rubbed the back of his neck and rotated his head from side to side. If Trent, his oldest brother, found out about Luke calling him, there’d be all kinds of lectures and advice to listen to, even though Luke hadn’t been trying to get back together with him.
He’d just have to be careful not to let it slip, which would be difficult. Jerome tended to blurt out things he was trying to keep secret. He couldn’t lie worth shit, and no one in the family asked him to cover for them under any circumstances. He never told on purpose. He just got nervous and something in his brain would short-circuit, then boom! There went the secret.
Shrugging off his musings, Jerome left his little studio and entered the main part of the building. The gallery wasn’t huge, and it wasn’t traditional. He couldn’t have handled working in a boring place that looked like every other gallery in the area.
Edge was talking to a couple—or at least, Jerome assumed they were a couple. The men were standing very close to each other, with the taller guy having a proprietary hand on the shorter dude’s lower back.
As he watched, the more petite of the two potential customers stomped one foot. Then he started cussing. “I don’t fucking care if you like it, that skull-thing is atrocious! This whole gallery is a joke!”
Oh, really? Jerome took a few more steps into the gallery.
Edge narrowed his eyes and looked like he was ready to throw a punch. Jerome had never seen him get violent and didn’t want to start now.
“Excuse me,” Jerome said, pitching his voice loud enough to make it clear he’d heard the comment and was irked. “If my art isn’t to your taste, you ought to—” His breath hissed out of him when the taller of the two men turned his way. The shorter guy might have pivoted, as well, but Jerome didn’t care. His attention was held by the sharp cheekbones and almost-black eyes of the taller of the duo. Thick black hair was brushed back in a perfectly coifed style, and his lips…Damn. His lips are a work of art in themselves. Not too full, not too wide, but so well-defined, and I want to taste them. 
“You call this art?” snapped the angry shorter guy. “This stuff is gross. Any horror geek could make this crap.”
That comment dragged Jerome’s attention to the obnoxious twerp. “Really? I’m pretty sure no one dragged your ass in here. Don’t let the door smack it on the way out.”
“What? You—” Another foot stomp. “Kaito, I’m not putting up with this shit. Are you just going to let that…that…that—” He gestured at Jerome. “Scumbag be rude to me?”
“Kaito.” Jerome couldn’t keep himself from saying that name.
“Yes! His name is Kaito Yoshida and he’s a doctor and he’s mine! Tell him, Kaito!” The anger coming off the snarly dude was almost palpable. “And my name is Taylor Erickson Donahue the Third, not that I’d expect someone like you to know who I am.”
“Oh, my god,” Edge muttered before snickering. “Seriously.”
Kaito was blushing all the way from his forehead to the part of his chest Jerome could see courtesy of the white V-neck shirt Kaito had on. “Taylor, can you just not throw a fit?”
Whoa. Even know that isn’t the thing to say to the little troll.
And sure enough, Taylor Erickson Donahue the Third went apoplectic, shrieking about Kaito not knowing how to be loyal, and flinging his arms and hands out in violent bursts as he did so.
Jerome didn’t know if TED the Third was prone to actual physical violence, but it was clear the dude was a verbally abusive, entitled jerk.
“Hey, hey,” Jerome said as he approached, holding his own hands up in out in a ‘stop’ gesture. “That’s enough.”
“That’s enough?” TED the Third can get loud! “Who are you—?”
“I’m the owner of this business,” Jerome cut in, fed up with the tantrum. “And you gotta be at least thirty—”
TED the Third made a choking sound and his face turned purple with, Jerome guessed, rage.
“I mean, if you aren’t that old yet, well, all this screaming and anger wrinkles your face and ages you like nothing else.” Jerome squinted at him. “And if you’re over the age of six and throwing fits, you probably need a good therapist and a dose of reality. You can’t act like an asshole in someone else’s place of business. It’ll get you arrested, especially if the business owner doesn’t give two shits who you are.”
“The business owner would be him, in case you’re too dense to get it,” Edge added, pointing to Jerome. “And he will totally call the cops on you. Maybe even sue you.”
TED the Third stomped his foot for a third time. Jerome turned his attention to Kaito. What does he see in such an immature turd?
Jerome gave himself a silent lecture about judging someone by their looks. Just because Kaito was handsome as sin didn’t mean he was a good person.
Kaito pressed those perfect lips of his together and blushed darker. “Sorry. I—sorry.” He took hold of one of TED the Third’s elbows. “Come on. If you get in trouble again, your father will cut your allowance off.”
TED the Third went from purple to white in a heartbeat. “He didn’t mean that.”
Kaito began leading him to the door. “I think he did. He was very unhappy about the settlement he had to—”
“Fine.” TED the Third glared at Jerome. “I still think your stuff is trash—and stop ogling my boyfriend! He’s mine.” He turned his nose up and clung to Kaito.
Jerome shook his head. There was no accounting for taste. The only reason he could figure Kaito was with TED the Third was for money, and that said enough about the kind of person Kaito was for Jerome. Not a good one. Maybe he shouldn’t make such a judgment, but TED the Third was unpleasant. He threw fits, talked down to people and stomped his foot like a child. There was nothing compelling about him, other than his funds, as far as Jerome could tell.
“What a jackass,” Edge said once the duo had left. “I’ve seen snotty rich people before, but he has to be the worst. Ain’t no amount of money that’d make me put up with someone like him. I’d rather be poor and have some damn manners and empathy. I thought he was cuter than the tall doctor when they first came in, but then he opened his mouth. Gross.”
Jerome couldn’t disagree. He felt a strange sense of disappointment that Kaito hadn’t dumped TED the Third, which was ridiculous, and he should know better than to apply his own standards to other people. Never would he have dated, much less had a relationship, with someone who acted like a rich, entitled brat.
Then again, he had been single for too long. It might be time to re-examine his own standards for potential boyfriends.


Hi! * waves * I’m Bailey, and I write…a lot. I’m genderfluid, outspoken, love to laugh, and always letting my imagination run wild. 

Other than that, there’s not much to share, but if there’s anything you want to know about me or my books, contact me at the links below. 


Smashwords Author Page: Bailey Bradford Smashwords

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Introducing Xander Kane -- with a NEW RELEASE! Night of the Dead is OUT NOW

If you were a fan of my early stories (The Master's New Toy... The Duke's Plaything... Bears in Bondage... etc) then you just might like Xander Kane.

Xander is my new nom de plume for writing erotica like I did early on.

And this first story is a fun, creepy, little Halloween tale with plenty of sexy fun.

After losing a bet with his friends while vacationing in New Orleans, Tig is forced to jump over one of the guarded cemetery walls and spend one hour in the dark amongst the dead. He's scared out of his mind. It being the night before Halloween doesn't help his nerves, either.

But Tig finds more than he bargained for inside those walls. He's not alone...

A group of men gather there for a ceremony of sorts... one that places Tig naked and on his knees before them. Before the night of the dead is over, he'll be claimed, body and soul.

Twisted E-Publishing  *  Amazon US  *  iBooks  *  Barnes & Noble  *  Google Play  *  Kobo

*Will update links as they become available

Sunday, September 23, 2018

Sunday Spotlight: Adam Charles and Second Chance

Welcome Adam Charles back to Sunday Spotlight.He's sharing a bit of his new release, Second Chance (Taking a Chance, 2)
David has spent almost a decade living with regrets, and he’s finally worked up the courage to right a wrong from years ago. Just as he’s reconciling with his twin brother, David gets another chance to fix a relationship he screwed up. Even though he bolted out of fear, David has never been able to forget the day he kissed his friend Michael. Now that Michael is in his life again, will David be able to make it up to him? Or is it too much to hope for another second chance?

Chapter One

David sprinkled more cheese on the breakfast casserole and then slid it back into the oven at a lower temperature. He moved to the island and began cutting up fruit to try to focus his energy. He hadn’t felt this unsettled in years. The last time he’d felt anything like what he was feeling now had been his first day of therapy four years ago. That day had been a new beginning, but at the time, it had seemed like the end. The doctor had been so concerned that he’d insisted David check himself in for one night. And one night had turned into a week as he finally let everything out, finally told someone what he’d been through. He and his estranged twin, Alex, had been texting for weeks, and they’d even talked on the phone a couple of times. But tonight … it terrified him.

He’s been open. And kind and patient, considering what I did. He wants us to work all of this out. It’s going to be fine.

Eight years ago, when Alex had confessed that he was gay, David had lost it in the worst possible way. He’d called his twin, his very best friend, a pervert before punching him twice and screaming for their mom. The rest of the day blurred in his mind even now. He’d become hysterical and demanded his parents kick Alex out. But instead, they’d gotten angry at David. He’d been bundled off to his grandmother’s house that very night, and as usual in their family, no real discussion had ever taken place. He’d only worked up the courage to tell his parents the truth about his reaction a few months ago. Tonight, he would finally tell Alex as well.

He dropped the knife because he was shaking. Part of him feared his brother would never completely forgive him. Never really love him again. Another part of him worried about how upset his brother would be once he knew the truth.

The doorbell rang, and David jumped, grabbing the island and cutting his palm on the knife he’d dropped so carelessly. He cried out and grabbed for the roll of paper towels.

“David?” called a muffled voice from the other side of the door.

“Coming!” David rushed over and pulled the door open with his left hand. “Hey, come in,” he said, trying to sound cheerful but knowing he failed at it.

Alex’s gaze went straight to his injured hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just cut myself.”

Alex reached for his hand and pulled the paper towel away. “It’s not bad. You got bandages or whatever?”

“Yeah. Hall bathroom. Under the sink.”

Alex went down the hall and soon returned with the little First Aid kit. He took David by the elbow and guided him to the living room, pushing him to a seat on the couch. And then he was cleaning David’s cut and dressing it, as if there wasn’t eight years of baggage sitting there between them.

“I’m sorry,” David said as he felt tears prick at the back of his eyes. “Those words sound meaningless. Like nothing. They can’t … they just can’t make up for what I did.”

“No, words can’t,” Alex said softly as he looked at his work. “But words are where we need to start.” Alex let go of his hand and gazed up at him, waiting.

Preparing himself for rejection, David said, “I love you. But I don’t blame you if you don’t believe that. Or if you no longer love me. I abandoned you. Hurt you. I ruined everything.”

Alex’s eyes revealed nothing. “You could’ve found me any time you wanted.”

“I have to tell you why.”

“Why what? Why you rejected me when I said I was gay? Hit me and called me a pervert? Ran away and never once tried to contact me?”

“Yeah. That’s why I wanted us to sit down face to face. Alone.” His vision began to blur so he fumbled around to grab a tissue from the table behind the couch.

Alex studied him as he wiped his eyes. “Are you sick?”


“Are you sick? Dying? You’re shaking. Seem scared. I haven’t seen you cry since we were like seven.”

“No. This isn’t about getting my affairs in order or some twelve-step program. It’s about what I did. And why.” He took a breath and tried to push back the tears. “I’ve kept two secrets from you. From everyone. I just told mom and dad a while ago. That’s when mom gave me your phone number.” He settled back on the couch and clutched a pillow, needing something to ground him. “I would get my phone out and stare at it. When I saw you in the park that day, smiling and laughing and looking so happy, I got dizzy. Made myself go over. Yet I was in a daze. No idea what to say or do.” He met his twin’s gaze. “And I know it was painful. Awkward. I was a wreck the rest of the day. Had to go home instead of going back to work.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. I was fucked up the rest of the day. Didn’t go back to work myself.” Alex tilted his head. “What are these secrets? You look like you need to tell me before you throw up or something.”

David laughed, the sound broken and nervous. He felt pretty damn sure he would throw up soon. “I … I’m …” He groaned and shut his eyes before blurting out. “I’m gay, too. But I knew when we were fifteen.”

The silence was stifling, and David made himself open his eyes. Alex sat motionless, staring down at the couch cushion between them. After nearly a minute, Alex licked his lips and asked, “What’s the other secret?” He took a deep breath and added, more harshly, “What in the fuck could be bigger than that?”

“I didn’t tell you or anyone else because of something that happened.” He paused as he tried to think of the best way to start. “Do you remember … Eric Draker?”

Alex looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

“He caught me looking at him one day. He got me to admit I was checking him out. Everyone knew what our parents were like. So conservative and exacting. If I’d known they’d be more open minded. If I’d had anyidea they would be okay with me being gay, the way they were the night you came out, then what happened next would never have happened.”

“What happened?” Alex said, sounding breathless. His anger seemed to shift a bit. “David … what did that asshole do?”

Bile came up David’s throat, and his stomach lurched. “Hang on.” He bolted up and ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he vomited.

A few minutes later, he sat back on the bathroom floor and looked over to see his brother sitting on the edge of the tub looking worried. Alex stood and dampened a facecloth before handing it to David.

“I always hated that guy. Knew there was something fucked up about him.” Alex’s fists clenched. “Tell me what he did to you.”

David leaned his head back against the cool tile of the wall. “He said he’d tell mom and dad I was gay. Convinced me they’d kick me out. Hate me. That you’d hate me. That everyone at school would look at me funny. That I wouldn’t be allowed to be on the basketball team or be allowed in the locker room. All kinds of shit.”

Silence fell again. Alex inched closer and touched David’s shoulder. “I’m no expert here, but you’ll feel better if you get it all out.”

“When I told them, Mom cried. Dad got angry. Said he’d have gone right to Eric’s parents if he were still alive.”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “He’s dead?”

“Yeah. I had no idea until the night I told them. He killed himself apparently. Up in New York. Over four years ago. The family tried to hide it, but word spread eventually.”

“Might be best. I’ve got a feeling I’d have ended up hunting him down after tonight.”

An odd smell hit David. “Shit, the food’s burning.” He tried to get up, but Alex shook his head.

“I’ll get it.” He left the room and came back a minute later. “Cooking my favorite, huh?”

“Yeah. It ruined?”

Alex shrugged one shoulder. “Cheese got a bit crispy on top. Doesn’t matter. I don’t think I can eat.”

“Yeah, me either.”

Alex sat back down on the edge of the tub. “Can you keep going?”

Slowly, David nodded. “He said he’d keep quiet if I’d be his boyfriend. His secret boyfriend. So I said yes. I liked him, thought he was hot. We would meet when we could. Fool around. Before long we started fucking.” David took a deep breath and looked up. “I know what you were probably thinking when I first started this. That he raped me. But that wasn’t it. The abuse was emotional. Psychological. Things were good when we were touching. He never hit me, was never too rough. But the moment it was over, he changed. We didn’t talk much. Didn’t do things together. And then one day, I went to our secret place and found him with a girl. Fucking her. She was riding him, straddling his lap. And they were kissing.” He paused and took a breath, trying not to go back to that moment. He’d worked too hard to get past it. “At that moment, I realized Eric had neverkissed me. Not once. It was always me sucking him or jerking him off. Or him fucking me. I’d been so excited about doing things with a guy that I didn’t even notice how he was treating me.”

“How long had it been going on?” Alex asked.

David looked up, knowing Alex was going to be shocked. “Almost two years. I caught him like a month before you told me you were gay.” He sat up a bit more. “I went to his house the day after I’d caught him with her. Told him what I’d seen. And he laughed. I thought he’d slipped up, but no. He’d wantedme to see. Wanted me to know that, once he got some pussy, he wouldn’t need me anymore.” He shifted his weight on the floor. “He called me every homophobic name in the book. Called me a whore. A pervert. Said I was disgusting for letting myself be fucked. An idiot for thinking two guys could do anything more than get each other off.”

Alex actually lowered himself to the floor and looked David right in the eye. “I want to ask why you didn’t tell me, but I’m too astonished.”


“Yes. At the fact you were able to keep it from me. You were having sex. Secretly meeting someone. A guy we never hung out with. And I saw nothing. Knew nothing.”

“We were careful. Met maybe three or four times a month. I was scared of being caught.”

“But … two fucking years!” Alex yelled.

David winced. “Are you mad?” The question sounded idiotic, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yes! At him!” He closed his eyes, groaning. “And you.” Opening his eyes, he shook his head as he looked down at the floor. “Fuck.”

When Alex didn’t say anything else, David said, “I didn’t love him. I wasn’t that dumb. I knew it was just sex, yet … I guess I thought he felt a little something for me. The way I did for him. Going to Gran’s after my freak out was actually a good thing. Seeing him every day was making me crazy. And you paid the price for it. By the time I had my head on straight, it had been almost two weeks. I was scared to see you. To see mom or dad. I didn’t want to come home. And that’s why I picked a college as far away as possible. I just…” David closed his eyes.

“Ran away,” Alex said, his voice harsh and full of pain.

David opened his eyes. “Yeah.”

Alex took him by the shoulders and jerked him up into an awkward hug. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you fucking tell me? I’d have killed that piece of shit.” One hand tightened against David’s back. “I’d have helped you deal with it.”

David clutched at his twin when he felt him shaking, soon realizing they were both shaking. “I don’t know. The longer I waited, the harder it seemed.” He let out a shuddered breath. “I’m sorry.”

Alex let him go and looked at him, wiping at his own tears. “I’m pretty angry with you right now. We lost all those years. We were both hurting. And we didn’t need to.”

“I know you’re hurt. By everything. But I want to make it up to you. Somehow. Some day. As long as it takes.”

Alex sat back on his heels. “I don’t even know what to say. I can’t stay tonight.”

“That’s okay. I doubt either of us could eat anyway.” He cleared his throat. “I know I just dropped a lot on you. And I’m notmaking excuses. Just trying to explain what was going on with me.” He reached out and took his brother’s hand. “What I did was wrong. And I know it. All of it was wrong. The secrets. Staying away. I’ve been in therapy for four years. All the doctors have been pushing for this. What I just did.”

“I can’t keep talking right now.” Alex drew his hand away. “I need to go, okay?”

David nodded, simply glad Alex wasn’t yelling at him. There seemed to be hope for them, a hope he’d felt building these last weeks as they slowly tried to reestablish their relationship through random texts and awkward phone calls. “I understand.”

Alex stood up. “You okay? To be alone, I mean?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll call you. In a few days. Maybe we can try tonight again.”

“Sounds good.”

Alex exited the room, but then he came back. “I love you, too,” he said in a low voice. “But it’s gonna be hard to really trust you now.”

David nodded. “Got it.”

Alex gave a slight nod and then rushed from the apartment, the door slamming behind him.

David made himself get up. He washed his hands and face, and then he forced himself to go back into the kitchen. He covered the casserole and slid the fruit in the fridge and then leaned on the counter, staring at the tiles. Relief washed over him, even as he still felt a flutter of nerves deep in his stomach. Everything was out in the open now, and the future was in Alex’s hands.

I don’t blame him for not trusting me. I don’t deserve his trust. Or his love.

Saturday, September 22, 2018

Coming 9/26 - Night of the Dead by Kelex Writing as Xander Kane

Night of the Dead
A Sexy, Spooky Tale...

By Xander Kane (Kelex)

Arrives September 26, 2018

After losing a bet with his friends while vacationing in New Orleans, Tig is forced to jump over one of the guarded cemetery walls and spend one hour in the dark amongst the dead. He's scared out of his mind. It being the night before Halloween doesn't help his nerves, either.

But Tig finds more than he bargained for inside those walls. He's not alone... 

A group of men gather there for a ceremony of sorts... one that places Tig naked and on his knees before them. Before the night of the dead is over, he'll be claimed, body and soul.

MMM+, Orgy, MM, Bondage, Paranormal Sex, Double Anal Penetration, Spanking, Light BDSM, Public Humiliation, Public Exhibition, and Submission

Author’s Note:

Xander Kane is the name Kelex now uses when she writes fun smut (like she used to early on). If you don’t like reading a whole bunch of erotic sex scenes, loosely bound by a storyline, with just a smidge of romance, then this story just might not be for you. 

But if you do… strap in and read on.

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Maintenant disponible: Promis à deux ours (Bear Mountain en français, t.4) par Kelex

Le quatrième livre Bear Mountain est maintenant disponible!


Un ours s’accouple avec un humain, pas avec un autre ours.
Du moins, c’est ce qu’a toujours dit l’ancienne loi des ours. C’est une vérité que l’on apprenait aux oursons dès l’école. Declan et son compagnon, Ryder, comme tous les autres, l’avait bien intégré dans leur tête, sans jamais penser à remettre cette maxime en question.   Pourtant, lorsqu’ils rencontrent leur troisième compagnon, un omega qui se baigne dans la source de la montagne, Declan ne peut ignorer le besoin qu’il ressent, ours ou non. 
Ryder ressent le même désir, mais il est beaucoup plus préoccupé par le fait que leur compagnon soit un omega. Il sait que revendiquer un autre ours pourrait leur valoir l’exil. Il retient Declan avant que les choses n’aillent trop loin, mais même cela ne suffit pas à les empêcher d’être expulsés de la Terre des Ours.
Gage reconnaît ses compagnons dès qu’il les voit, mais il sait aussi qu’ils ne pourront jamais être ensemble. En tant qu’omega, il fait partie de la caste la plus basse du monde des ours, esclave invisible, dominé par tous. S’imaginer appartenir un jour à ces deux hommes est un fantasme trop effrayant, peu importe combien son corps aspire à être réclamé par ces deux mâles splendides. 
Il faudra que le monde des ours chavire pour que les trois hommes trouvent un moyen d’être ensemble.


Sunday, September 16, 2018

A Sunday Spotlight Vacation

There's no Sunday Spotlight this week, but we'll be back next week with a great MM story to share.  See you next Sunday!

Wednesday, September 12, 2018

New Release - New Neighbor (In Bed, 3) by Kelex

New Neighbor
(In Bed, 3)
by Kelex

Benjamin “Benji” McGill has always been the runt of the litter. Be it his family or his group of friends, he’s always felt like he was less than, flying under the radar. Unseen. 

The fifth wheel.

When Mac moves across the hall from him, he thinks he senses interest… but then, why would a big, buff ex-Marine be interested in him? But every time Benji runs into Mac, he can’t deny the electric tension between them.

Is it all in his head?

Throwing caution to the wind, he asks Mac out on a guys’ night with his group of friends. It’s a safe risk… and maybe he can see if the sparks he feels can turn into an all-out inferno.

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“All that hard work… for nothing,” Benji muttered as he stared into the full-length mirror. Sighing, his stare washed over his reflection. He was just as scrawny as he’d ever been. For weeks, he’d been going to the gym obsessively, trying to add some bulk to his too-lean body. He’d increased his food intake and yet—nothing. His buddy Jesse had given him some bulking powders to add to his morning drinks, but all Benji still saw in the mirror was a ninety-pound weakling.
Of course, he wasn’t quite thatsmall, but some days it sure felt like it.
He gave himself another cursory glance, trapped within the swirling disappointment churning in his gut. At least he did see a tiny bit of definition here and there where it hadn’t been before. But when one didn’t have muscles in the first place, there wasn’t much of anything to define. 
Benji sighed, curling a bicep and eyeing the muscle… or lack thereof.
After another long sigh, he drew on his track pants and a t-shirt, and then sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his running shoes. He wasn’t going to let the image in the mirror defeat him. Another trip to the gym was the only way to get the results he wanted. As he neared the front door of his apartment, he heard several deep voices on the landing. Peeking through the spyhole, he saw a few muscle-bound guys carrying boxes heading toward the empty apartment across the hall.
“There goes my quiet,” he murmured quietly. The small building only had two apartments per floor. He’d enjoyed nearly two months of peace having a floor to himself, especially after his rowdy neighbor had been kicked out. Now he’d have to share the floor again. Hopefully they’re not as bad as the last one.
Benji checked the guys out, inspecting each one and wondering which one it was. Both his and the other apartment were singles, so he doubted it was all of them. Better not be. Three big, buff guys—built exactly as he hoped he’d one day be—would make a lot of noise. 
A hint of jealousy filled him as he stared them over. Their biceps bulged, the sinew and flesh stretched tight. 
His gaze roamed over their firm bodies, feeling a little whisper of excitement.
A smile played across his lips as he observed every square inch…
All of them looked military. They had buzzed heads and one even wore camo pants and an army-green T-shirt. He was sure he saw the glint of dog tags in the low light of the hallway. All three of them were hot as hell…
Any one of them would be perfect eye candy.
Benji sighed again.
One of the guys turned suddenly, peering at his door—as if the man sensed Benji stood behind, watching. The guy’s light, golden stare narrowed, and Benji could only feel a tightening in his chest. The guy was gorgeous. Gorgeous. A pair of keys hung from his thick fingers under the box he carried… 
It’s him.
Benji’s heart fluttered a bit. He drew away from the door, feeling as if he’d been caught playing voyeur. He was perfectly in his right to check out his new neighbor, so Benji wasn’t sure why he felt so embarrassed. He reached for the knob, but paused.
Guess I can’t leave… not yet, anyway.He didn’t want to walk out and all but shout that he’d indeed been at the door snooping. 
Although, I don’t want to waittoo long. Ishouldsay hello to my new neighbor.
It wouldbe the neighborly thing to do.
Plus, it would give him a chance to ogle the guys a little more.
Benji stepped into the small kitchen and grabbed a glass before filling it from the water dispenser on the fridge. He took a sip, listening in as he heard the men go into the apartment. After washing another sip down his dry throat, he grabbed his gym bag and keys before opening the door.
The big guy who’d caught him was standing in the opposite doorway and spun to face him as soon as he stepped out into the hall.
“Hey,” the guy mumbled with a nod of his head.
“Hey,” Benji mumbled back, trying to give an equally cool nod of his head and sure he failed miserably. My gods, he’s gorgeous. “Ah, I gu-guess you’re my new neighbor?” What the fuck? I haven’t stuttered since middle school.Heat filled his face.
“I am,” the guy answered. He took a step forward and offered a hand. A largehand. “The name’s Mac.”
Benji looked down at the paw and knew it had to be twice the size of his own. And then he realized he was being unintentionally rude and shot his hand out, knocking into the big one and making a total fool of himself. “Sorry,” he mumbled before righting his hand and shaking. “Nice to m-meet you, Mac.”
“Nice to meet you…” he dragged the last word out, raising a brow.
Benji lifted his stare from that hand enveloping his to get caught in an amber stare that nearly took his breath away. His lips parted. His eyes widened. He felt a fluttering feeling in his gut.
He’s gorgeous.
Ahhh… are you going to tell me your name?” Mac asked, frowning.
Benji looked back down, shame filling him as he saw he was still shaking Mac’s hand and hadn’t let go. I don’t wanna let go.
He could feel the heat in that touch. It seeped into him, molecule by molecule. Yet he let go. “Benji. Sorry. N-no. Not Benji. It’s Benjamin… my friends call me Benji… although it sounds like I’m a five-year-old kid… and I’m not… and I hate that nickname, but how do you tell your friends you hate it, you know? So I just let them… I guess…” Stop rambling. You sound like an idiot. He tried to relax, knowing full well he looked anything but relaxed.“Yeah.”
An odd smile crossed Mac’s lips. “How about just Ben? Does that work?”
Benji looked down, knowing his face had to be beet red. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Ben works, too.”
“You lived here long, Ben?”
Benji loved the way Mac said his name. “Here?”
“Yeah, here,” Mac said, humor in his tone. 
Benji lifted his head and met those golden eyes. His stare drifted to the wide smile and barely remembered the question he’d just been asked. Did he just move a little closer?Oh god, he smells good.“I’ve lived here for a few months.”
“Another newbie to town, hmm?” Mac asked.
“Oh no, no… I went to Emory. Graduated a few years ago… I’ve lived in the area for nearly a decade now,” Benji answered. He looked up and saw a bit of confusion on Mac’s face. “I thought you meant the building… I’ve been here in the buildingfor a few months.”
“Ah,” Mac said. He grinned and took another half step closer. “I guess I know who to ask about the city, then.”
“Sure, sure,” Benji said, nodding his head. The walls of the hallway seemed to close in around them. All he could see was Mac, big and muscled and gorgeous and smelling amazing and that smile… 

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