Demon Apprentice by Sarah Barimen

Demon Apprentice

Soul Debt (multi-author series)
by Sarah Barimen

Changeling Press

eBook ISBN: 06356-02042

Moonlighting as an apprentice soul collector isn’t simple. There’s magic involved. Oh, and Jack discovers that getting to know his client adds an extra dimension to even the hottest sex he’s ever enjoyed.

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Chapter One

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Into the Darkness by M.A. Church

Into the Darkness

Bad Boys’ Club, Book 2
by M.A. Church

Razor’s Edge Press

eBook BIN: 06157-01977

Jordan and Allen are out for fun, and they place a bet on a deadly game. But they’re playing with a predator — and a dark, hidden secret that the brothers possess will be the catalyst that brings Fate down on them. The Bad Boys Club has once again picked the wrong target to play with.

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Chapter One

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Going Under by Tonya Ramagos

Going Under

The Heroes of Silver Springs, Book 9
by Tonya Ramagos

Siren-Bookstrand

eBook ISBN: 1-62242-278-4

For a man who vowed never to fall in love, how can it be possible Cameron Stone managed to fall for two? When he finds himself in Silver Springs, hometown of Adrien Bingham and Thaddeus Carter, emotions run wild and attraction explodes. Can the self-proclaimed playboy hold onto his resistance?

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Chapter One

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Felidae Collection by Jade Buchanan

Felidae (Collection)

by Jade Buchanan

Changeling Press

eBook BIN: 06118-01964

Aaron Coleman has just been thrust into a world he didn’t know existed. He’s forced to adapt to life among alien beings. Despite his own serious misgivings, he can’t stop thinking about both the fun-loving Lev and the wise-cracking Morgan.

The Felidae collection contains the previously published novellas Laithe’s Pride, Asad’s Mate, Usama’s Journey, Lev’s Discovery, Navin’s Master, and Rowan’s Men.

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Chapter One

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Rookery Cove Volume 1

Rookery Cove Collection Vol. 1
by Kira Stone, Eve Vaughn, Emma Ray Garrett, and Mardi Ballou

Changeling Press

eBook BIN: 05967-01914

Breakwater by Kira Stone
To soothe troubled waters and ruffled feathers, three unlikely males must turn anger into trust, into love.

Seducing Serena by Eve Vaughn
While Serena never had trouble making toys, becoming the mate of two Elves is impossible to resist.

Petits S’Mores by Mardi Ballou
Death by chocolate? All too true. And so is the love these two investigators have for one another.

Keythong’s Blaze by Emma Ray Garrett
Three times the sexual heat literally sets the air on fire in their quest for satisfaction.

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Chapter One
Breakwater by Kira Stone

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All Wrapped Up, Vol. 2
by Willa Okati and Lacey Savage and Sierra Dafoe

Changeling Press

eBook ISBN: 978-1-59596-821-0

Naked Exposure by Lacey Savage
Scoop of a lifetime — Hollywood bachelor Greg Radigan in all his naked glory, participating in some very explicit BDSM play. The moment the picture hits the Internet, it goes viral. Naturally, whoever took the picture has to pay. When Greg and Deidre finally come face-to-face, he’s ready to exact revenge. And nothing short of Deidre’s complete submission will satisfy him…

Absolute Power by Sierra Dafoe
Trapped at the mercy of six overpoweringly handsome vampires, can Mia find the courage to let down her guard and discover the ecstasy of submitting herself completely to their sexual demands?


Chain of Three by Willa Okati
Two alien Marines, a human BDSM Master, and a shapeshifting Empress with a mind of her own — a recipe for trouble. Dane and Julian, ex-war heroes now in the Empress’ service, hate each other. Problem. Julian wants Dane almost as much as he hates him. The Empress thinks Master Anubis can tame the two. It’s a three-way battle for dominance, and the Empress never fights fair…

Chapter One
Chain of Three by Willa Okati

“So, you’re pretending to be a human again today, are you?”
Dane grunted in response. In his opinion, a stupid question didn’t deserve any kind of answer. Anyone with two, three, four or more eyes in their head or what they called a head ought to know better. Of course he’d shifted into human shape. He wasn’t stupid.
The Empress hadn’t exactly ordered Her subjects to assume the images of the humans She adored and fell passionately in love with. However, anyone who wasn’t too dumb to come in out of the rain knew they’d better wear the right “uniform” unless they had an itch to annoy Her.
You really, really didn’t want to annoy the Supreme Commander of a thousand-plus starships and a million trained warriors.
Besides, he’d decided to lounge by the pond in the garden of his new quarters that morning and tentacles had a nasty tendency to develop vicious sunburn. “Getting a tan” the earthfolk they’d rescued from their doomed planet called this practice. They’d said it was relaxing and made them look more attractive to those they wanted to mate with.
No, those they wanted to fuck.
If Dane was going to play human, then he’d damn well get the details right. Mating and fucking were completely different concepts. One of the new traditions most of his countrymen and women liked best when it came to playing human was the idea of fucking without having to tangle themselves up in mating.
“Fuck.” An interesting word you could use in almost any sentence.
Dane paused for a second to appreciate the amazing range of human obscenities, otherwise called “swearing,” “cursing,” or “cussin’.” They worked great when a guy didn’t really know what else to say.
Speaking of which, Dane decided getting a suntan was probably a piss-poor waste of time. He couldn’t figure out why anyone would enjoy damaging the pigmentation of their skin by sitting in the sun all day, but as the earthfolk also said, what the hell? He didn’t have anything better to do. Not since he’d been “honorably” discharged from the military, sent back to their home planet for recuperation, and then…
Dane shuddered.
“Aww. He shivered. Izza baby boy cold?” Julian taunted in American English.
Raising the middle finger of his human-shaped hand, Dane pointed it where he figured Julian would be standing. Another handy earthfolk trick, cussing with hand signals.
Julian hooted. “Up yours too!” He made the suggestion in cheerful good humor. Probably purely for the sake of annoying Dane. He never took offense at anything Dane did. He treated every barb and sting like some big game. Prick. “You’re cranky today, old man. What flew up your ass?”
Dane grunted again as his only answer, deciding if that wasn’t good enough for Julian he could go screw himself.
Mmm. He really, really loved human profanity. So rich, depending on culture, and so satisfying. He and Julian both studied the underground lists of new phrases together to figure out what they meant, bitching at each other over who got to read first if they didn’t both have a copy. The time when Julian insisted “son of a bitch” meant the same thing as “son of a motherless goat” had resulted in a fight of amazing violence and duration.
In the end, the Empress Herself gave them a tongue-lashing of Her own and sent them to their rooms to stand with their noses in the corner until they learned to behave like men, not children.
Julian’s fault, in Dane’s opinion. Dumbass.
Their Empress didn’t approve of human swearing, since most of it was too raw for Her taste. But then again, She could afford to be picky and refined, couldn’t She, sitting in Her Glass Palace up on the sacred hill?
Dane felt guilty for thinking such things about his Empress, his Commander, but couldn’t make himself stop bitterly recounting the War as he’d seen it for himself.
The K’thartin, a lizard-like race with a taste for attacking and pillaging other worlds, who burned their wreckages and sowed the blood-stained grounds with salt, were vicious beasts who needed to be cut down. Dane had been on board with the Imperial decision. The Empress declared War and sent Her troops out filled with dreams of glory and honor on the battlefront. A fight for justice and freedom.
It all sounded fine and great when you were standing on a parade ground in your shiny new uniform. Everyone saluted, shouted and cheered for the Cause of the Empress, then.
Until they knew better, and the Empress didn’t look so good anymore.
She wasn’t struggling on the front lines fighting the K’thartin or standing packed in standing-room-only tight on a gunnery ship, and sure as hell hadn’t had one inch of Her delicate blue-tinged skin so much as scratched while Her people sweated, bled and died.
She hadn’t been there on the day when Dane had been sent ahead as one member of a scouting team.
She hadn’t gone face-to-face with a lunatic K’thartin. Probably tossed off his own ship to die. He’d lived long enough to corner Dane’s men in a suicide ambush. The K’thartin lurked in hiding — damn the lizards, they knew how to camouflage themselves far too well — and jumped them from behind, probably hopped up on one of the synth-drugs they used to make themselves crazy for battle as well as insane by nature.
One K’thartin ought to have been no match for even a search party, but the horned, scaled lizard-man got the jump on them and possessed the strength of the crazed. Despite being a castoff, he still packed a weapon and knew how to pull the trigger.
He’d slaughtered Dane’s men before they knew they were even under attack.
When they were all dead, gone in seconds, the lizard-man cornered Dane. Sure enough of his victory to take time out for gloating, he’d cackled and lolled his forked tongue out and raved about the rewards his god Thar would shower down upon him.
Thinking he had a chance, Dane acted fast, pulled his laser gun and aimed for the lizard’s scaly head.
Damn thing saw him go for his weapon, though, and it had been even faster on the draw. Before Dane could fire his first volley the K’thartin shot three smoking holes through his left standing tentacle and howled with laughter when Dane fell.
Fell, but didn’t stay down.
Dane killed the K’thartin especially dead for what he’d done and used his laser gun to chop the lizard’s body into small chunks for extra payback.
Didn’t turn back the clock, though, didn’t heal him in a blaze of glory. The K’thartin had used the highest setting on his own weapon. Dane’s leg tentacle was burned to a lump of useless meat.
Fuck him sideways, though, if he hadn’t dragged himself back to the front lines hauling his charred limb behind him and made his sorry-ass soldiers move, fight, and kill before he’d finally bled out too much to keep standing or conscious.
He’d passed out, and when he woke he was on a transport ship back home. While he sweated and swore in his medi-bunk, enduring the healing procedures without pain medications because he would not be weak enough to accept them, life as he knew it came to an end. An Admiral paid Dane a special visit via vid-link and said that while it was brave men like Dane who’d win the day, for Dane himself the War was over.
Dane gritted his human-shaped teeth at the memory. He’d saved a thousand lives, acted as the driving force in a battle that would go down in history, but because his leg had been crippled he wasn’t fit to fight anymore.
Honorable discharge. Honorable, his ass.
Pissed off to the end, Dane stood instead of kneeling in the Empress’ presence when She called him to the Glass Palace to award him, in person, his medals for courage under fire and extraordinary heroism. The insult should have made Her spitting mad, which was Dane’s goal, but after gazing at him a few minutes She flickered a quick, sly grin. She’d declared that since he could no longer be an active warrior, he would now become part of…
Dane shuddered again — then sighed. So help him, despite whatever She had done, he couldn’t stop loving the Empress, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t stop worshipping Her when he felt as if he should hate his Commander.
Julian, though, there was a different story. It was easy, and almost a relief, to hate Julian.
“Looky at the little tyke, all cold without his momma. Baby wanna blankie?” Julian taunted, trying his damnedest to get a rise out of Dane.
Dane snorted, refusing to turn around. He adjusted his “aviator sunglasses” and forced his left leg to relax on the soft “beach towel” he’d spread out to try and relax on. It’d been a major pisser to find out shifting shape didn’t give him two healthy limbs to stand on, but at least in this form he could stand.
And if he felt like standing, he’d have gotten up and punched Julian in his own no-doubt human-shaped face.
“Go away,” Dane snarled.
A command in that tone of voice would have made one of his former soldiers wet their tendrils and scurry back in line. Not Julian, though, oh no. The man either couldn’t or wouldn’t take a hint, and he didn’t let orders get in his way.
“Nah. More fun to be outside. Nice day.” Julian drew in a deep, overly noisy breath. “Smell that air. Mmm. Makes a man glad just to be alive, doesn’t it?”
Standing up and popping Julian one was starting to sound better and better.
Trouble was, Dane didn’t have the oomph to carry out his fantasy. What would be the point? Julian would sock him back, they’d fight, someone would win, they’d both go lick their wounds in secret, and soon as they’d healed Julian would be back playing the same old games.
Better to ignore the man. Maybe this time he’d get bored and go look for something more entertaining to do.
Julian didn’t generally let himself be ignored, though. Dane heard him ambling along over the severely trimmed moss-grass of their recreation garden, pad-pad-pad. Barefoot, sounded like. In a moment Dane felt the darkness of a shadow pass over his body, blocking the sun, as Julian came around to stand at the foot of his beach towel.
“Feeling too good to talk to me today?” he jeered. “Been thinking about your glory days back before you were ambushed, getting all sorry for yourself about being invalided out, blah, blah, blah?”
The corner of Dane’s lip lifted in a growl.
“Ooh, now I’m scared. Do it again.”
“Piss. Off. Go play with someone else’s head.”
“Don’t want to. I’d rather play with you.”
Dane opened his eyes behind his sunglasses to see Julian hunkering down at his feet. Human form, like he’d figured. Julian wore his preferred rough-hewn face, the one with a strong jaw and defiant chin. His dark hair was cut close enough to his scalp that all he had left was maybe an inch of stubble. Broad shoulders, solid chest and rippling stomach muscles. Hard, defined legs. Well over six feet tall when he stood. Handsome, oozing dark sex appeal, and he knew it. Reveled in it.
Dane shook his head, amazed and disgusted at the same time. He’d been told Julian had been higher in the ranks than Dane before he himself had been commended and honorably discharged. Made Dane’s stomach turn to see a noble fighter fool around like a green yearling instead of the warrior he’d been.
The cheeky, nasty grin Julian offered told Dane that Julian was in fact deliberately baiting him. Woo. Big surprise there. Julian fucking loved to drive Dane crazy. Dane suspected he lay awake nights thinking up new ways to torment him.
Dane itched to knock the smirk off Julian’s face, but he’d have to get up and that’d be what Julian wanted. So he didn’t. He stayed put, knowing Julian couldn’t get a bead on his expression with his sunglasses on, and irritably wished for the man to go away.
No such luck. Julian trailed all he had in the way of fingers along the arch of Dane’s foot.
His hand remained damaged in human form. As the official story went, Julian had been captured and tortured. The enemy had sliced his tentacles off a bit at a time each day. He hadn’t crumbled under pressure, nor had he spilled any secrets. When he broke free, he took the intel he’d gathered from loose-lipped guards back to their fighting forces, killing more than a decent count of K’thartin on his way to safe ground.
In human guise, the injuries that kept Julian from holding a weapon or running without tripping translated to ragged stumps of fingers and nubs of toes. But if he was bitter about being crippled, he didn’t let it show. He liked seeing people gasp in horror at the sight of his stubs, whereupon he’d pull up a seat and start telling War stories meant to shock and thrill his soon-captive audience.
Julian, the showman. Dane, the loner. Why the Empress had insisted they be housed together, Dane didn’t know. She had a wicked sense of humor, though, and ordering an odd couple like them to live together probably entertained Her to no end.
The Empress could be, as earthmen put it, a Royal Bitch.
For anyone who wanted proof, Dane could point at the positions he and Julian now held in the Empress’ service. Working as…
Dane shuddered.
“Oh, yeah, baby, yeah,” Julian taunted. “All your muscles just rippled. Flex for me. Let me see those biceps bulge.”
“Fuck. Off.”
Julian’s smile turned wicked. “Rather fuck you.”
“You think you’re man enough to take me on?”
“Bring it, tough guy.” Julian stood back up and spread his arms. He beckoned Dane with the stubs of his fingers, picking the fight hard as he could. “I’ll show you who’s got the bigger balls between us two.”
Enough was e-damn-nough.
“You want to tussle? Fine.” Dane tore off his sunglasses and threw them to one side. He glared at Julian who was, damn it, getting his own way at last. “We set the rules first.”
“We’re not on the battle lines anymore, soldier. Rules are for pussies.”
Rules. I’ll keep them simple so you can understand. Teeth, nails, punches, kicks, those are all fine. Elbows too. Anything’s game for being hit except cocks and balls.”
“No problem. I don’t want my testicles knocked around, and I sure don’t want to see yours damaged.” Julian ran his tongue across his lips. “So what’s the winner get? What’s the loser pay?”
“Why bother with a prize?”
“Because it gives us something worth fighting for.” Julian lowered his eyelids halfway, lust blazing out at Dane. “Winner gets to fuck the loser any way he wants. Loser gets to take whatever the winner can dish out and say ‘thank you’ when it’s over.”
Dane rolled his eyes. He might have figured. Julian had a fanatic’s obsession with sex and had, from the moment they’d met under the Empress’ eye, tried to entice, tempt, and trick Dane into playing carnal games. Which had put Dane completely off the idea of fucking Julian. No one told him what to do except the Empress, now, and no matter how hotly Julian shaped his body, Dane refused to back down.
Didn’t have a damn thing to do with his libido. When Dane got the urge, he found anyone but Julian who happened to be handy, most of whom were love-struck with the idea of servicing a Big War Hero. They either tossed up their skirts or jerked down their pants or parted their tentacles without even being asked. Dane got plenty to keep him satisfied on his own.
Julian might be tempting with all those muscles and his big dick, but Dane would be damned if he’d allow Julian the satisfaction of getting what he wanted.
He looked Julian over from the tips of his crew cut to the ruin of his toes. The way he couldn’t help but linger for a minute over Julian’s long, thick cock annoyed him. That same cock was already starting to rise and fill with blood the way human sex organs did. So the thought of a fight got Julian all excited in more ways than one, huh?
Well, hell. Dane stood with as much deadly grace as he could muster given the state of his bad leg. He shifted his balance from foot to foot, flexing his hands in and out of fists. He did plan to win, although he didn’t plan to fuck.
They weren’t in the military anymore, so screw playing fair. “Let’s go,” he challenged.
Julian hollered loud enough to make Dane’s ears ring and launched himself into the fray head first. Hit Dane with a jab to the gut that knocked the breath out of him and made him stagger.
“Huh? Huh? Who’s big and bad now?” Julian mocked. “Thought you were supposed to be a tough guy.”
Dane’s own solid jaw tightened. “I’ll show you tough,” he snarled before tackling Julian. He used his greater body mass to knock Julian flat and had him pinned in a heartbeat. Getting your opponent with his back to the ground signaled victory. “Game over.”
“Game’s just beginning,” Julian countered. He rubbed his hardened cock against Dane’s leg. “Dumb, soldier, dumb. A smart fighter knows which battles to lose and which to win. I might be out for the count according to rules, but I’d call this a victory because I have you right where I want you.”
“On top of you with you unable to move?”
Julian gave Dane another look burning with lust. “It’s all about how you play the game.” He rocked up again. “You say you’re not interested, but I can feel how you’re lying to me and to yourself. Unless just fighting gets you hard. I don’t think so, though. I think you’re hot for me. If you’d let go and admit you want me, life on planetside could be so much better.”
Dane snarled in frustration. He bashed his forehead against Julian’s, which hurt him, but hopefully hurt Julian more. Julian yelped in pain, sure enough, but started laughing almost right away. “You missed. Aim a little lower. Smash your mouth against mine. Give me what I want.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Then why are you still on top of me? Why is your cock jumping against my leg? You want me, soldier. You know and I know. Lay down your weapons.” A devious glint lit up in Julian’s eyes. “If we were still in the military, I could order you to let me fuck you. You’d say ‘sir, yes, sir’ and present your ass like a cherry.” His eyes glittered savagely. “Want me to pull rank? Would an order make you happy? Hmm. Seems like you’re already getting the idea.”
Dane realized he’d started rocking back against Julian’s groin. He stopped himself and let loose with a string of the worst curses he knew. Damn it, he’d just about fallen into Julian’s trap, and he’d die before he bent his head for the man.
He ignored the fact that sliding his dick along Julian’s had felt so damn good his balls hurt, shoved himself up and away, and towered over the man still lying flat on his back in the moss-grass. “Go to hell.”
“Been there, done that, came back with souvenirs.” Julian waggled one damaged hand at Dane. “Stop wasting precious time, soldier. We both know how this is going to end someday.”
Dane opened his mouth to start with someday, if I go crazy, but someday is sure as fuck not today and work his way up to tearing Julian a new hole for someone to screw.
He was interrupted by the garden’s vid-screen — every room or atrium and yes, even the garden in their quarters had one — blinking to life. One of the Empress’ advisors, an old man who stubbornly refused to take human shape, ever, no matter what the Empress had a taste for, glared at them. The codger could see Dane and Julian just as they could see him.
“Well. Is this what the Empress’ Elite Corps do with their spare time, of which they have far too much? Lounge around like sun-loving lizard-men and fist-fight like little boys?”
The advisor’s tentacles had turned crimson with anger. Sarcen, as he was called, hated both Dane and Julian and didn’t bother to hide his loathing. They’d gone off to War and come back dripping in glory, while he’d been too old to fight. Even if they were damaged now, they were still the Heroes he’d never get to be.
Worse, the Empress had drafted them into Her Elite Corps, which sounded like a job worthy of a retired warrior but was, in fact, just a fancy name for Her harem of personal slaves who had better ask “how high?” when She said “jump.”
A Corpsman. No soldier could come to a worse end.
Dane lifted his chin and ignored Sarcen’s dripping scorn. “What do you want?”
Sarcen sniffed as if the air had gone bad. “The Empress bids you both to come to the Glass Palace. She has a job for you. Thirty minutes. Get dressed in something decent and don’t be late.” The vid-screen communication shut off with a snap.
Dane simmered impotently. He burned to snap old Sarcen’s prissy, petty neck about as much as he wanted to see Julian crushed under his heel, and that was saying a lot.
But speaking of Julian, the man himself stretched luxuriantly against soft moss-grass, then reached down to stroke his hard, dark cock, wet at the tip. He tasted his seed, hummed with pleasure, and gave Dane a dark look full of threats and promises. “Until next time, soldier.”
Dane spat at him and turned on his heel to head back into their quarters. Julian could follow or lay there until he took root for all Dane cared.
He had to go see the Empress, who had a “job” for him.
And if Dane had learned to dread one thing since being rendered useless for battle, it was the Empress’ idea of a “job.” If the “job” required Julian and him to work together… hell.
Whatever the Empress had in mind this time, it couldn’t be good.

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Twilight of the Gods by Mychael Black

Twilight of the Gods
Spirits of Abaddon, Book 4
by Mychael Black

Changeling Press

eBook BIN: 05880-01886

Time has run out for Jesse, Gabriel and Lazarus. With the rogue archdemon Hiil and his vast army marching for Abaddon from a neighboring world, Gabriel is forced to make a decision that may mean the death of one of his lovers. As an elemental, Lazarus once sought control of Ba’al’s lands. Things have changed, but if Ba’al returns, the ice mage’s word may not be enough to keep him from the archdemon’s wrath.

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Darkness in Paradise
Spirits of Abaddon, Book 3
by Mychael Black

Changeling Press

eBook BIN: 05784-01854

With his lovers Gabriel and Lazarus, Jesse Eldridge traverses the shadowy realm of Abaddon, a world of demons and gods, in pursuit of Hiil, the rogue god of a neighboring world. Hiil fully intends on bringing all of Abaddon to its knees, but he doesn’t realize that Gabriel has a secret weapon in the coming war: Jesse. As a vampire/elemental crossbreed, Jesse possesses powers surpassing those of both his lovers. There’s little time for him to come into his full abilities, however, and it’s going to take a miracle if he and his lovers are to survive.

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The Cowboy Queen
by Patricia Logan

Rebel Ink Press

eBook ISBN: RIP0001007

A handsome cowboy who rolls his own cigarettes captures both of their interests but Maverick Walker has eyes for only one man, the sweet, young blond Ricky, a man he knows will rock his world. Will Ricky find everlasting happiness in the arms of his super model boyfriend or will he be pushed aside for the tall, handsome cowboy, the man of Michael’s dreams?

Prologue

A grinding beat came from the speakers overhead, on both sides of the stage and from all four corners of the dark bar. The only bright lights were trained to the stage where a very beautiful Barbara Streisand belted out “Superman” at the top of her lungs. She bent and stuck out her ass, clad only in tight white shorts cut so high her pretty white butt cheeks stuck out. Red, yellow and white tube socks and a tight T completed the look. Someone in the bar yelled out an obscenity. It didn’t faze the hot little performer at all. As a matter of fact, it encouraged the beautiful drag queen. She turned her back on the stage, began a bump and grind and the “Whoots” ramped up as cat calls and whistles continued at an even louder pitch.
“I…I’m Superman…. Cause I’m with you…,” she sang perfectly on pitch.
“I got your Super Man right here baby!” A deep voice screamed. Laughter followed as the crowd went crazy.
“There’s nothin I can’t dooooo… cause I’m with youuuuu….” She turned toward the front, the lights highlighting the blonde in her curly red hair. Her breasts were high in a tight white T with a bright red, black and yellow Superman logo emblazoned across it. Her eyes shimmered and her cheekbones were high and roughed. A blush of red stained her pouty lips as she sang.
“Supermaaaaaaaaaaan…..” As the song ended with a long instrumental, the crowd went wild. Barbara postured, her knees pushed together and stuck out her tight ass again. As an encore, she poked out her breasts one last time and shimmied. She cocked her head to the side shyly and grinned at the audience before blowing air kisses and waving a royal wave as she prepared to leave the stage.
“I love you, Ricky!” A deep voice yelled from stage left and she screamed suddenly, as a gigantic bald headed biker jumped up on stage and flew toward her with a bunch of roses in his hand. Before she could make a move to get away, four huge bouncers were on the stage tackling the big biker. She watched as he hit the stage floor with a “Whoosh,” the roses flying out of his hands and landing all around him in a hail of petals and broken stems. Barbara burst into tears, crying into her hands as an Amazon sized black man dressed in a frilly pink dress and blonde wig appeared from somewhere back stage. He folded Ricky into his arms and bent down to croon into his ear as he rocked the small performer.
“It’s okay baby, let Mams take care of you,” he soothed.
Ricky nodded into the strong chest of his best friend.
“Come on, mon cher.” He led the trembling small man off of the stage. As they pushed through the curtain, Mams led him by the hand to the dressing room. “There there child, stop all those tears. What will Michael think if he sees you with puffy eyes?” The beautiful cherub looked up into Mams eyes and blinked his obscenely long eyelashes. He knew he must look a mess.
“Oh dear, you’re right, Mams.” He sat down before a large lighted mirror and stared at his reflection. Black eyeliner ran in rivulets down his cheeks. He shuddered and ripped off the wig, exposing a wig cap held in place with bobby pins. He started hastily, removing the bobbies before Mams stepped up and swatted his hands away.
“I’ll do that, baby. You clean your face. Here.” He handed him eye makeup remover and a wad of cotton balls and Ricky began cleaning. “I’ll just bet Michael is going to be so surprised.”
“Do you think so? I want him to be happy. It isn’t every day you reach the quarter century mark.” He blinked false eyelashes up at the handsome black man.
Mams dropped a kiss on the silky blond head as he removed the last pin and then the cap. He met Ricky’s bright eyes in the mirror, combing out the long tresses with his fingers.
“How can he not be happy, baby? Look at yourself. You’re by far the most beautiful person on earth.” Ricky offered up a tiny smile, not really sure of himself at all. His boyfriend, Michael Francis, was a famous super model known the world over. He jet-setted all over the world and had women and men falling at his feet. He could have anyone he wanted. So why had he settled on a farm raised Nebraska boy like Ricky LaGrange? It still made no sense to Ricky at all. Ricky’s job at “The Red Room,” one of the hottest gay bars in all of West Hollywood, though prestigious within the gay community, wasn’t anything compared to being flown all over the world and making hundreds of thousands of dollars to strip down to a tiny Speedo and be photographed. Michael’s cell phone never stopped ringing. Everyone wanted a piece of the tall, handsome hunk.
Ricky stared into the mirror seeing the damage the drama had caused and tried to ignore it. He applied cold cream to his face and wiped through it with a tissue as Mams struggled to style the young man’s hair.
“There now, look how beautiful you are.” The large wigged man stood back, admiring his handiwork with a smile. Ricky’s hair lay flat now, brushed out and hanging over one eye, just the way he liked. “But why would you ask me if Michael would enjoy his present? Of course he will, darlin. What kind of crazy man wouldn’t want to go to a dude ranch and be surrounded by Marlboro men and cowboys for a week? Oh… the smell of leather…” Ricky watched him hum in ecstasy.
“Straight men,” Ricky answered with a quirky smile and tongue in cheek. The tall black man stared down at him, his wrinkles prominent in the aging face. He grinned and Ricky was nearly blinded by the whites of his teeth. A wave of love washed over him. Mams, a nickname for Malcolm, was his very best friend in all the world and it seemed since Mams lover Scotty died of complications from AIDS last year, the older man had fully adopted Ricky. Truth be told, it felt good to be loved. Ricky’s own family had turned their backs on him and thrown him out of the house when he came out to them at the age of eighteen. Mams was the only family Ricky had and that was just fine with him.
“I don’t know. I want so badly for Michael to have a good birthday this year. It’ll be the first birthday of his we’ve spent together.” Mams reached out and cupped Ricky’s soft cheek. The contrast between the dark hand and Ricky’s pale skin was stark.
“Honey child, I told you Rudy and Mark just came back from that dude ranch. They said it was the most liberating experience of their lives.” Ricky couldn’t help but smile at the dreamy quality in Mams eyes. “Just thinking about all those macho cowboys riding around in assless chaps and cowboy boots and Stetson’s is giving me wood.” Ricky burst into laughter.
“Mams, the brochure said nothing about assless chaps, though the idea is very intriguing,” Ricky replied. Mams looked at him and leaned in to peck his ruby red lips.
“Let a girl dream hon, let a girl dream.” Ricky chuckled then he glanced at the clock on the wall. He jumped up and began to quickly change out of his costume and into the beautiful fuchsia suit Mams had laid out for him. The addition of a black dress shirt and shoes set off his blond hair and good looks. He cocked his head to the side and stared into the mirror. He was a flamboyant gay man. His slight stature didn’t help matters. No one would ever call him macho. He loved the bright colors he chose to wear almost as much as the bright lights that spotlighted him on the stage.
He wondered fleetingly how people outside the gay community saw him. Were they disgusted? He grinned at his reflection. He could really care less if they were or not. He was who he was and he was loved by Mams and… He thought of his family for a moment and uncharacteristically, he felt a little stab of pain in his heart. He hadn’t thought of their outright rejection of him for a long time. Looking lovingly at Mams, he told himself it didn’t matter what his family thought, that the assault from bullies that happened so long ago didn’t matter. He threw himself into Mams arms, hugging him for all he was worth.
“What was that for, Sugar?” Mams frowned down at Ricky, worry etching his kind features. He held the young man out at arm’s length and Ricky knew he was being studied. He schooled his features not to show just how upset he’d become as a result of bad memories only seconds before.
“Nothing,” Ricky said, pulling away. “I gotta get going. I’m sure the limo is here already.” Mams shook his head. Ricky knew the older man could read him like a book.
“Fine, don’t tell me baby, but you know who loves you.” Mams smiled at him and caressed Ricky’s cheek. “Now go and give that man ‘a yours a sloppy kiss for me… and honey,” he paused, his big brown eyes twinkling, “have a good time.” Ricky nodded, kissed Mams quickly on the cheek and hurried up the stairs to street level where the limo was indeed waiting. The driver got out and opened the door for Ricky, looking him up and down. Ricky started humming “Superman” as he climbed inside, oblivious to the driver’s scrutiny. He looked around the interior. A bottle of champagne was chilling in an ice bucket which was set into the bar. Perfect. Everything is going to be perfect for Michael tonight.
He wondered absently if Michael could fall in love with him. Ricky had certainly fallen hard for the handsome super model. It wasn’t hard. Michael was drop-dead gorgeous and funny, and when they were together, Ricky always felt as though he could tell Michael anything. They got along great. With Michael’s tall, dark good looks and Ricky’s shorter, blond good looks, they made a stunning couple. Michael signed autographs wherever they went and Ricky was always proud to be on his arm. Except when the spotlight was turned on Michael, he lit up like a Christmas tree, and Ricky melted into the background. Ricky told himself that it didn’t matter, that he was lucky to have a lover as gorgeous and generous as Michael was.
The limo sailed through the streets of Los Angeles headed toward the Brentwood condo Michael owned. Michael had never asked Ricky to move in with him, though Michael was well aware of Ricky’s much smaller means of income and much crummier apartment nestled in a seedy part of Hollywood–Sunset and Normandy. The neighborhood had one redeeming feature and a place Ricky frequented, The Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles. Built with a helipad on top, the hospital had been expanded multiple times since it’s conversion from a private residence in the 1900’s. It was now a very large and important facility and housed the finest pediatric doctors in the world. Ricky had volunteered there numerous times.
His very favorite nurse was on the pediatric neurosurgery floor. Most people knew her as head nurse Dayna, while Ricky knew her as a gay/male author by day and pediatric caregiver by night. Until Ricky met her, she’d been writing novels and screenplays but hadn’t focused on male/male romance writing. His influence helped her realize her publishing goals and that made Ricky very proud. Her first work was due to be released this coming April. The hospital’s amazing new facility was claimed from broken down housing and rose in the Hollywood skyline to a magnificent skyscraper where more unfortunate children would be saved and comforted or given loving measures to help them pass into the next life by loving and compassionate women and men. Ricky himself had witnessed one nurse, Edleen, a beautiful Filipino wonder, spend a grueling 45 minutes removing tape from an IV site of a frightened child with patience and compassion. Ricky loved the people he encountered doing volunteer work in this magnificent place.
Aside from the time he spent with the kids, Ricky spent most of his time at Mams or at The Red Room. He told himself it didn’t matter that Michael rarely had him spend the night at his upscale Brentwood place. Michael’s bedroom alone was larger than Ricky’s whole apartment. Within fifteen minutes, the limo pulled up to the call box at the security gate. The driver rolled down his window and punched in a series of numbers as he read them off a yellow paper in his other hand. The gates swung open and they drove inside. Ricky directed him to park in a place close to Michael’s condo and he jumped out of the car before the driver even had the time to come around and open the door for him. He was excited to get the evening started.
“Wait here, please,” Ricky intoned. “I’ll be back in a few.”
“Very good, Sir,” the man replied flatly. Ricky ran across the parking lot, his heart racing. Would Michael be surprised? Would Ricky finally get fucked tonight? It had been months since Michael had given him a proper fucking. He complained that work was exhausting and when he was at home in L.A., all he wanted to do was rest. Ricky tried not to be hurt that Michael never came to the club to watch him perform, but when one of his buddies phoned him, Michael jumped up to meet them out at some bar or restaurant… without Ricky. Ricky tried to be understanding about the sex, too, settling for an occasional blow job from his boyfriend though he really didn’t like the lack of anything else. An insatiable bottom, Ricky knew he was a very good lover and he’d always been very attentive to his boyfriends. None of that seemed to matter to Michael and at times, Ricky felt like he’d fallen into a black hole where there would never be any more sex. Tonight he was determined to turn that pattern around. Michael was going to love his present so much he was going to make love to Ricky all night.
He ran up the steps to Michael’s front door and knocked. After a minute or so, Michael appeared at the door. He wore a dazzling model’s smile as he asked Ricky to come in. Once the door was closed, Ricky moved in for a kiss. Michael bent and kissed Ricky softly. But Ricky didn’t feel a bit of passion coming off of his lover.
“Happy Birthday, baby,” Ricky purred against Michael’s chest. His lover’s arms wrapped him, holding him close. Ricky felt like he was in heaven.
“Thank you, baby,” Michael parroted back. “You have some plans for us?” Ricky leaned back and looked into his lover’s face. Then he grinned.
“You bet I do. Come on, grab your coat and let’s get going. I have a really special night on the town planned and… Well, just come on, silly.” Michael walked out of the tastefully decorated living room and down the hall toward the bedroom. Ricky stayed put. He knew Michael had a thing about him walking around the condo. Michael called it snooping. He told Ricky he was a really private kind of guy which surprised Ricky given the nature of his job.
Regardless, Ricky waited for a few more minutes, bouncing with excitement from one foot to another, while Michael seemed to drag his feet. He thought about that. Michael sure didn’t act all that excited about Ricky taking him out on the town. Michael finally returned and had his suit jacket on. His suit was black, his shirt a beautiful dark shade of purple and his tie was a light lavender. Suddenly Ricky remembered exactly why he loved Michael. Because he was a hotter than hot, fucking, super model.
“Ready,” Michael drawled, sounding bored. Ricky sighed and forced himself to smile, wondering whether this trip was going to be worth his while at all. Michael’s cell phone rang and he pulled it out, looking at the smart phone’s screen. Ricky watched as Michael read the caller I.D. Michael connected eyes with Ricky and held up an index finger.
“Sorry, I gotta take this, Ricky,” he said as Ricky nodded. Michael turned and walked back down the hallway and stepped into his bedroom and shut the door. A wave of distress washed over Ricky. Well, that was just great. Now Michael was taking secret phone calls Ricky couldn’t listen in on. That sucked hairy balls! Ricky crossed his arms and flopped down on the sofa, checking his watch. He’d rented the limo by the hour. Fuck! Almost thirty minutes later, the bedroom door opened and Michael emerged. He acted as if absolutely nothing was wrong and didn’t even go so far as to apologize to Ricky for being late.
“Well, are we going or what?” Michael said, sounding almost annoyed. Ricky’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t even believe the selfish nerve of the man before him.
“I’ve been waiting nearly forty minutes on you, Michael. I’ve been ready.” The look on Michael’s face seemed a little guilty and it soothed a bit of the storm raging in Ricky.
“I’m sorry hon. That was Arnold calling about a new gig for the cover of G.Q.” Arnold Newhouse was Michael’s agent with Artist and Models for Hire, one of the top agencies in L.A. Arnold also represented the famous British model who does all the cologne ads. Surely you’ve seen the billboard on Sunset.. Ricky felt kind of chagrined. He knew he couldn’t possibly compete with the opportunity of a cover with G.Q. His big, exciting surprise couldn’t possibly top Michael’s news.
“Oh,” Ricky said. “I see. G.Q. Wow, that’s really something. When will you find out if you’ve got it?” He asked as they stepped into the night air and Michael turned from locking the front door. Ricky’s boyfriend had the strangest expression on his face.
“I’ve already got it, Ricky. That’s why the call took so long. Arnold was giving me the details of when and where the shoot will be.” He rolled his eyes and Ricky suddenly felt really stupid.
“Oh, of course you got it,” he said quietly as they walked in silence to the parking lot. When Michael saw the limo, he grinned and Ricky was just about knocked out by how beautiful his lover was. Perfect straight teeth, gorgeous shoulder-length black hair, stunning bright blue eyes and dimples in each cheek. Michael was the man of all gay male fantasies and he was all Ricky’s tonight. Ricky almost wanted to jump for joy.
“You like, babe?” He asked hopefully. He knew Michael had a lot of opportunity to ride around in limos in his line of work, something Ricky rarely did.
“I like. Thank you, Ricky.” Ricky noticed that when Michael said “I like,” he was looking directly at the limo driver who stood tall and beautiful in his uniform, waiting for the couple with his hand on an open door. Ricky swallowed hard, glanced at the grinning driver and followed Michael into the limo, determined to make something of the night.
****
When Michael proceeded to carry on a conversation with the handsome limo driver while on the way to “La Bonne Vie,” Ricky began to get really annoyed. He realized he had to change up his game or he was going to lose the upper hand.
“Can you excuse us?” He asked the driver. “Please put up the privacy screen. I want to talk to my boyfriend.” He was surprised it came out sounding petulant and he wanted to kick himself. The guy just smiled and turned as the screen began to roll up.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Michael pouted. “He’s a struggling actor. I just thought I might be able to help him with his career. I do have connections you know, Rick.” Ricky hated being called Rick and Michael knew it. His father called him Rick and his father hated him.
“I know that, but you were acting like I was invisible the whole time.” Michael began to laugh and Ricky seethed.
“You’re jealous! I told you that doesn’t work with me. Everyone wants to fuck me. It’s just the way things are, Ricky. You’d better get used to it.” Ricky wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He’d had this beautiful special evening all planned and it was rapidly deteriorating to dust. All he wanted to do was show his boyfriend just how special he was to him and instead, he was ruining Michael’s whole night. He reached over and took Michael’s hand.
“I’m sorry, Michael. This evening couldn’t have started off much worse.” He smiled guiltily, although something told him he had nothing to feel guilty about. He crushed the thought and pushed forward as Michael looked at him haughtily. He needed to stop this or the whole evening would be ruined. “I have a present for you,” he said excitedly, hurrying to change the mood in the car and was relieved when Michael seemed to brighten.
“Okay.” He squeezed Ricky’s fingers encouragingly. “Let’s have it.”
Ricky reached inside his fuchsia suit coat and pulled out an envelope. It was decorated with hand drawn hearts and lips and simply said “To my Love, Michael.” He knew it was sappy but that’s the kind of guy Ricky was. Michael didn’t stop to read the little love note or comment on the pretty hearts and kisses but instead ripped right through them, tearing into the envelope. Two plane tickets and a brochure dropped out into Michael’s hand. Ricky bounced on the seat, having to slide his hands under his legs to keep from yanking Michael into a hug, while Michael read the contents. Michael looked up at Ricky with surprise.
“You’re taking me to a dude ranch? With real cowboys? In the Texas wine country?” Ricky wasn’t sure if Michael was happy or annoyed. He couldn’t tell from his tone. He leaned forward and pointed to the date of departure on the tickets.
“I picked a date cause I wanted to surprise you with the tickets but it’s flexible around your schedule. I mean you did tell me that cowboys have always been your fantasy, didn’t you? And I know you love a good bottle of wine. They say Texas wine country is the next best wine country in the whole U.S. after Napa. And you know they don’t have cowboys in Napa so I picked Texas because I wanted to be authentic. And…” Michael’s lips stopped Ricky’s endless tirade. Ricky immediately heated up as his boyfriend’s kisses turned incendiary. Before long, they were horizontal on the bench seat and Michael was lowering the zipper on Ricky’s pants as he kissed him wildly. Within seconds, Ricky’s cock was in Michael’s hot mouth and Ricky’s hands were buried in the gorgeous super model’s hair as his head bobbed up and down.
Ricky screamed out as his climax erupted from his cock, pumping his load into Michael’s sucking mouth. The second he finished, Michael whipped out his hard cock and sat back in anticipation of payback. Ricky was only happy to reciprocate. After Michael came in his mouth, Ricky sat up and adjusted his clothes. It was only then he realized that the limo had stopped. He wondered how long they’d been parked and if the driver had heard the goings on in the back seat. Neither he nor Michael were exactly quiet lovers. When they were adjusted, he rapped on the privacy screen and it lowered.
“We’re ready to get out,” Ricky murmured, a little embarrassed. The guy smirked at him in the rearview mirror.
“Of course, Sir,” he said mockingly. He got out and opened the side door for the two men. A blushing Ricky got out and glanced the driver’s way. It seemed to him that the driver was finding it hard to keep a straight face. Michael followed him out and Ricky turned in time to see him handing the driver his card. He put his hand up to his ear and made the “call me” gesture and Ricky’s anger returned.
They were ushered into “La Bonne Vie” by the Maître d, Pierre. He’d known Michael for a long time and they conversed easily in perfect French as he led them to a special table. Pierre pointedly ignored the flamboyantly dressed Ricky and Ricky realized all too clearly how out of his comfort zone he really was. All through dinner, Ricky noticed the pointed stares at him and his boyfriend. Normally they didn’t bother him but tonight was special for Michael and he didn’t like the idea of being on display for a group of strangers. When a fan of Michael’s approached them between dinner and dessert, Ricky had had enough. If it hadn’t been for the broad smile on Michael’s face as he signed an autograph, Ricky probably would have decked the flamboyant gay man fawning all over Michael.
The large tab was delivered to the table and Ricky took out hundreds to pay the exorbitant prices. Michael looked sated and happy and that was enough. When Michael fell asleep in the limo on the way back to his condo, Ricky knew he wasn’t getting any more sex tonight. He helped the weary man into his condo, helped him brush his teeth, undress and climb into silk
pajama bottoms. As Ricky undressed and snuggled up to Michael in the bed, he threw his arm over the sleeping man’s eight pack and wondered just where the fuck this relationship was going. It wasn’t long before he was sound asleep.

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Profound In His Silence by G.R. Richards

Profound In His Silence
by G.R. Richards

Amber Quill Press, Allure

eBook ISBN: 978-1-61124-173-0

Will an opera novice snag the leading role…or the leading man?

Rehearsals are hell with merciless director Jean-Luc, but Charles’s co-star Bo makes the days bearable. When Charles gets nervous about the blossoming relationship with his co-star, can Bo assuage Charles’s fears or will the director need to take charge?

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Chapter One

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