Author Stephani Hecht
Shopping Cart
Your Cart is Empty
Quantity:
Subtotal
Taxes
Shipping
Total
A little nice and a lot of naughty
The Sensual World of Stephani Hecht
Blog
FUBAR
| Posted on January 1, 2012 at 4:30 PM |
comments (29)
|
Although Ben acts like he lives to be the center of the party, nothing could be further from the truth. Insecure and feeling like a failure because he became a nurse instead of a doctor like his grandfather, Ben constantly fights depression. One night he goes out to a seedy bar to drink away his woes, only to become the victim of an assault. Luck is finally with him, however, because a handsome stranger intervenes and saves Ben. Danny loves his job as a cop for the city of Pontiac…or at least he used to. Now the never ending politics and budget cuts make him wonder if he should move somewhere else. After he saves Ben, Danny finds all kinds of reasons to stay. But every time he tries to get closer to Ben, the nurse pulls back. Will Danny ever discover why Ben is running away? And if he does, will that reason bring them closer or keep them apart? Excerpt: Glancing up, Danny gave Ben a smile so sexy that Ben had to bite back a groan as a wave of desire slammed into him. Now how fucked up was that? Here Ben stood, head pounding, hung over and still wearing the stink from the day before, but he was lusting over a virtual stranger. If his friend Ricky ever found out about this, he’d rib Ben for the rest of their lives. “Hi?” Ben hedged, for lack of anything better to say. “Hey, how are you feeling this morning?” “My head hurts, but after how much I drank last night, it’s not anything I don’t deserve.” Danny stood and opened the fridge, as if he’d been living at the place all his life. Taking out a bottle of water, he passed it over. “Here, drink this. You need to get rehydrated.” Since Ben knew Danny was right, he took the offering and sat down. Twisting off the cap, he took a deep drink. “You may want to take it easy until you see how your stomach is going to be feeling,” Danny advised. “I never throw up the night after drinking. I just get a massive headache.” Cocking a brow, Danny asked, “So you drink a lot?” Realizing how bad his own comment had made him sound, embarrassment flooded Ben. “No, I hardly drink at all. In fact, I think I usually just go home or hang out with my friends. I’ve only been to Rocky’s twice in my entire life.” “I know you’re not a regular there,” Danny assured Ben. “How?” “Ever since the rash of gay bashings has been going on, I’ve been making a habit of keeping an eye on the place. I’ve never seen you there before.” Giving Ben a heated once over, Danny added, “Believe me, there is no way in hell I would have missed seeing you.” A shiver went through Ben as he finally asked the one question that had been nagging him the most, “Where did you sleep last night?” “On the couch.” “Oh,” Ben replied, surprised at how much that revelation disappointed him. “Is it because you think I am…well, you know…a slut? Because I’m not. I know you saw me hooking up last night, but I usually don’t do that. I swear it. Not that I’m a virgin or anything. I just don’t usually sleep with just anybody…but you would be…” Ben trailed off, clamping his lips shut as he realized he’d been rambling on. Something he never usually did. For once, though, he couldn’t help himself. He had the burning desire for Danny to know that Ben wasn’t some kind of party boy who bed-hopped like a horny bunny on Viagra. “I slept on the couch because I’m not the type to take advantage of somebody,” Danny gently informed him, then added, “but that doesn’t mean that once you feel better I won’t take you in there and fuck you into the mattress.” Ben sputtered on the large drink of water he’d just drank. Coughing a few times, he finally managed to get out, “I feel much better. I promise.” Okay, maybe begging wasn’t the best way to show off his un-sluttiness, but he wanted Danny—badly. More so than any other guy Ben had ever met. |
Fangs, Fur and Snowballs
| Posted on December 16, 2011 at 7:02 PM |
comments (214)
|
It’s never easy dealing with relatives during the holidays, but when you mix a feline coalition with a wolf pack, things get downright hairy. And that’s before adding the two missing Eagle brothers, a Lion trying to run away from home and a Hawk crankier than Scrooge or the Grinch. But coalition leader Mitchell is determined to have the best Christmas ever—even if he has to kill everybody to make them cooperate. Oh, and where is Shane and why did he leave his favorite gun behind? Warning: this book contains a maimed tree, lots of sappiness and way too much holiday spirit. EXCERPT: “Hey, Cub. Why the long face?” Carson said as he came up from behind and wrapped his arms around Keegan. Tilting his head up, Keegan gazed into the face of his mate. A Cheetah who lived to be unconventional, Carson had his eyeliner on and his dark hair sported blue streaks. His right eyebrow was pierced with a special gold ring that Keegan bought for him on their last anniversary. Keegan, on the other hand, couldn’t be more conventional. While his hair was a speckled brown, that was only due to the fact that he was a Jaguar. Not because he was trying to be a rebel. He also favored jeans and plain t-shirts, as opposed to the all-black and chains that Carson wore. How they ended up mates was a mystery to most of the coalition. Yet, from the moment Keegan laid eyes on his mate, he’d been a goner and he’d never wanted another man. “I’m freaking out over this whole party,” Keegan admitted. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll be perfect. Just hire a couple go-go boys and have them dance on the bar and nobody will care about anything else.” Keegan let out a short laugh. “What about the guys who prefer women?” “I didn’t think we had any of those here.” “We better or else the felines will die out.” “I thought Owen was working on a way to artificially inseminate the females.” “He is and he claims to be pretty close to a breakthrough. That still doesn’t change the fact that some feline men prefer woman.” When Carson scrunched his face in disgust, Keegan had to hold back his laughter. God, how he loved the way his mate always teased and played around. Or at least, most of the time Keegan did. The other times it annoyed the hell out of him. But that still didn’t mean he didn’t adore and live just for his mate. “I don’t think do,” Carson argued. “I’ve been with a good number of the guys here and I can tell you they all know their way around a dick.” Fury and a strong bite of jealousy hit Keegan and he tried to pull away from his mate’s grip. Carson, jackass that he could be, just tightened his hold. Then he had the frigging audacity to laugh before pressing a kiss to the top of Keegan’s head. “Relax, Cub. That was way before your time. Now there’s only one guy for me and it’s you.” Sagging in Carson’s hold, Keegan let out a soft sigh. “I know. It still doesn’t mean that I’m not bothered by it.” Spinning Keegan around so they were looking at each other, Carson gently cupped Keegan’s face. “Would it make you feel better to know that not one of them could even come close to comparing to you?” “Maybe,” Keegan pouted, only partly mollified. Sharing a soft kiss that was brief but still made Keegan’s head spin, Carson whispered, “I love you.” “I know.” “And you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” “I know that, too.” Looking deep into Keegan’s eyes, Carson said, “This is the part where you tell me that you love me, too.” “Okay, I love you, even if you are a reformed man-whore.” Leaning in, Carson began to nibble on Keegan’s neck. Damn that Cheetah, he knew that always made Keegan turn to putty. |
Russell's Reversal
| Posted on November 17, 2011 at 9:10 PM |
comments (198)
|
Blurb: Russell has always liked his men the same way he likes his sex: fast, hard, and without any emotional attachments. As leader of not only a pack of rogue Wolf shifters but also almost every illegal enterprise in the shifter world, Russell knows he’s not the type to ever find a mate and settle down. Then Dalton slips into his life, turning it upside down. Not only is Dalton a Lynx shifter, he’s also sweet and innocent: everything that Russell never liked in a man…or so he thought. But Dalton has a tragic past, which left him scarred inside and out and without a family. Dalton discovers that Russell may have had something to do with that tragedy just as Russell thinks he’s finally going to be able to claim his mate. Will Dalton be able to forgive Russell, or will their love be doomed to end before it even begins? Excerpt: “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” Russell asked, his voice husky with need. The tone of his voice sent fresh shivers of desire through Dalton. “Not really. Most everybody just treats me like their cute, bratty, kid brother.” “You may be small, but you are all grown up.” Oh, wow. While it may not be the best compliment he’d received, it still made Dalton’s chest swell with emotion. Running his tongue over his lips, Dalton recalled the time not too long ago when they’d kissed. The passion between them at the time had been so strong that Dalton hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the Wolf ever since. Dalton wondered if they kissed again if it would be so wonderful. Surely, something so earth-shattering couldn’t be repeated? Or could it? Unable to resist finding out, Dalton stood on tiptoe and pressed his lips to Russell’s. Dalton meant for the kiss to be brief, but then Russell let out a growl and took over, one arm snaking around Dalton’s waist. With a firm jerk, Dalton found himself pressed tight to the Wolf, their body molding together perfectly. He barely had time to recover enough to keep a grip on his cup. Desire crashed into Dalton, making his head spin as his knees literally grew weak. A small whimper slipped past him when Russell’s tongue thrust inside his mouth. The Wolf left no area untouched, his tongue stroking and caressing in a show of dominance that made Dalton want to roll over and purr in pleasure. When Russell tore their lips apart, Dalton let out a small growl of protest before he started to rub his cheek against the Wolf’s neck. Russell let out a small chuckle as he gently carded his gloved fingers through the front of Dalton’s hair. “Are you trying to mark me with your scent?” Russell asked. Busted! Dalton paused, mid-rub, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a plausible excuse. The last thing he wanted was to come off as some freak. After all, what sane feline would try to mark somebody as theirs after only meeting them twice? |
Please, forgive me
| Posted on November 4, 2011 at 1:21 PM |
comments (28)
|
 I am so sorry that I have been lacking in my posts lately. I know many of you have been waiting for the next installment of The Chronicles of Shane and I feel bad for letting you down. I promise to have one up very, very soon. I feel so stupid, because I let people and certain events pull me down into a slump. Not only the situation with Joie, but I was on the receiving end of some pretty mean emails. I won't go into detail, but one of them was so bad that it almost made me physically ill. Then I realized something, by reacting this way, I was giving certain people power over me and that's weak of me. So, I'm putting on my big girl panties and moving on. I'm going out for a nice spa day this evening with a dear friend of mine and then I'm getting back to doing what I do best...writing. So,thanks for hanging in there and I promise there are plenty of more Shane, Lost Shifters, EMS Heat, Drone Vampires and other characters to come. |
Night Terrors
| Posted on October 31, 2011 at 4:43 PM |
comments (190)
|
 Have no fear Night Terrors will be up at eXtasy books within hours. Until then enjoy this excerpt:After Brad left, Jess busied himself by getting out the sparring equipment. Just as it’d reached the nine-minute mark, Rev walked in. He’d showered as ordered, the front of his wet hair flopping a bit over his eyes. He’d also ditched the ridiculous pajamas and now wore a black sweat suit that appeared to be at least two sizes too big. It hung on his thin frame, making him look even younger. Holding his hands to the side, Rev asked, “Okay, I’m here. What do you want me to do?” Oh boy, if that wasn’t a loaded question. Since Jess didn’t dare answer it the way he wanted to, he just nodded to a pair of sparring gloves. “Get those on.” He expected Rev to balk, but the Novice went over and put them on. He looked around for a few minutes before cocking a brow. “Where’s the rest of the protective equipment?” “We’re not using it,” Jess replied, steeling himself for the outraged reaction he’d no doubt be receiving. “Why not? Are we sparring or do you have some other training exercise in mind?” “We’ll be sparring.” “But without the equipment, one of us could get hurt,” Rev protested, his voice pitched with confusion. “Oh, we’ll both get hurt for sure.” Rev’s mouth parted in shock. “Do you have some kind of sadistic streak or something?” “No, I’m just realistic. We don’t have much time to get you into top fighting form. If it hurts when you make a mistake in training, then you’ll be more likely to learn not to make that error again.” “Didn’t you ever hear of the whole wax-on-wax-off way of teaching? That seemed to work so well for Ralph Macchio.” Jess restrained himself from throttling his Novice…barely. “How about we try being realistic here?” “Hey, I am. That technique worked perfectly in Karate Kid. He won both the trophy and the girl in the end.” It dawned on Jess that his job was going to be so much harder than he’d realized. He took a deep breath and slowly counted to ten. When that didn’t work, he kept counting. It wasn’t until he reached fifty that he was calm enough to talk again. “This isn’t some movie. This is real life and if I send you out there unprepared, you’re going to die. Do you have any clue how dangerous the life of a Warden is?” All the good humor fled Rev’s face as his eyes grew stormy with rage. “Yeah, the day some vampires crashed into my home and sucked my parents dry clued me into that fact. Just because I don’t go around with a dark cloud over my head like Ari, doesn’t mean I don’t realize how much this life sucks.” The venom coming from Rev felt so strong, Jess almost took a step back. A wave of guilt hit him as he realized that he’d completely forgotten what had happened to Rev’s parents. Maybe Rev wasn’t the only one who had some learning to do as far as the new Guardian-Warden relationship went. “I’m sorry. I forgot about what happened to your parents and how that must have affected you,” Jess said in a softer tone. Rev blinked a few times, as if the last thing he’d expected was an apology. “Does that mean we get to wear some protective gear then?” Rev ventured. Jess gave off what he knew was a cold smile. “Hell, no. You still have a lot of work to do in order to be up to my standards and pain is the best motivator. Now let’s get to work.” |
The Chronicles of Shane-Part Three
| Posted on October 12, 2011 at 5:09 PM |
comments (47)
|
Trevor got out of bed and slowly walked toward Shane.Even in his
wounded state, Shane’s body responded to the sensual way his mate moved. It was
as all feline and graceful, yet sexy as hell at the same time. All Trevor wore were a pair of black sleeping pants, the waistband
hanging low on his hips so it revealed his body perfectly. Shane could see it
all, the way Trevor’s abs were firm, without being too muscular. How his chest
was sleek and tan, the skin just begging to be licked and sucked. Most of all,
Shane could make out the way the fabric tented over Trevor’s groin, showing
that Shane wasn’t the only one aroused. That was one of the things that made Trevor so perfect of a mate.
While others shied away when Shane showed up covered in blood and dirty from
combat, it turned Trevor on. Not that he liked to see Shane hurt. No, Trevor
was damn protective of his mate. It’s just that he liked the warrior in Shane.
Not for the first time, Shane realized just how damn lucky he was
to have his Panther. That is until a wave of pain shot through Shane and ripped
him back into reality. Trevor frowned, his hand going out to touch Shane’s chest. “Shit,
all this blood is yours. I hadn’t realized you were that hurt.” “I’ve had worse,” Shane protested, even as he began to feel a bit
lightheaded. “You should have gone into the infirmary and had Jacyn or Doc
Featherstone check you out.” “Nah, they just want to stick me with needles. In fact, I have a
sneaky suspicion those two get off on poking sharp objects into people. And yet
everybody says I’m the sadistic one.” When Trevor didn’t so much as smile, Shane knew his attempt at
humor failed. Worse yet, the scent of arousal that had been coming from Trevor
dissipated, to be replaced with the sharp bite of anxiety. “Then you need to shift,” Trevor said, tilting his chin in that
stubborn way of his. Shane balked. After years of serving under the iron rule of his
former guardian, it had been instilled in Shane that shifting was forbidden.
Even though Edward was dead and no longer in charge of Shane’s life, he still
found himself cowing to the man’s old rules. Which was just ironic, since Shane
was known for not following orders. Of course, his current leader would never
think of torturing Shane for punishment as Edward had. Plus, Edward had raised
Shane from infancy and had brainwashed Shane and his foster brothers. It was
only after they’d come to their current feline coalition that they’d finally
had a taste of real freedom. That still didn’t make certain things any easier. Shane had only
shifted a few times since he’d come to the coalition and each time it had only
been as a last resort. There was yet another reason he didn’t want to shift, too. This
one even more daunting than Edward. It was because Shane was a Leopard and that
breed of shifter was despised and feared by all other felines. Sure it was with good reason. Leopards had the well-deserved
reputation of being bat-shit crazy and homicidal. The reason the species was
almost extinct was because there was so much infighting that they all but
decimated their own ranks. Shane knew that every time he shifted to his Leopard form, it only
served as a reminder of what he was. Not only to others, but to himself as
well. Because, as cowardly as it sounded, Shane would have given just about
anything to be another breed. Anything would have been better than to be so
hated just because of what birth made him. As always, Trevor seemed to read his mind. The Panther gently
cupped Shane’s face. “Shift for me. I love you—all of you.” An emotion shot through Shane, it was so uncommon and unexpected,
he almost didn’t recognize it, but yet here it was—fear. Trevor gave him a tender smile. “You should know by now that I don’t
care that you’re a Leopard. You’re my mate, what’s more, you’re my hero. And
nothing will ever change that. So, please, shift for me. It kills me to see you
suffering like this. Not only that, but you’re getting blood all over the place
and you know how I hate to clean that crap up.” Shane let out a weak laugh. “Okay, I’ll do it. But only for you.” Taking a couple steps back, Shane closed his eyes and let his
Leopard take over. A bright light shimmered over his body as he seamlessly
shifted. He only held his animal form long enough for the healing to take effect,
before he transformed back to his human side. Looking down, he saw that while his shirt was still stained with
blood, there didn’t seem to be any fresh seepage coming through. Just to be
sure, he ripped off his shirt and tossed it to the side. A sigh of relief went
through him as he saw all that remained of the scratches were some faint red
marks. Raising a hand to his face, he felt that those wounds had healed, too. Trevor stepped in close again and pressed their lips together in a
kiss so tender it made an ache build up in Shane’s chest. How Trevor could
still want him, even after seeing the worst of him, still puzzled Shane.
“Stop thinking so much,” Trevor whispered between kisses. Shane did just that, bringing his arms up to hold Trevor in a
tight embrace. Breaking the kiss, Shane finally gave into one of his biggest
urges and buried his nose in the nape of Trevor’s neck. Breathing in deep,
Shane allowed the scent of his mate to wash away all the lingering ill feelings
left over from the night’s events. When Trevor brought his arms up to return the embrace, Shane felt
as if he finally was free from all the terrors of his past, if only for that
moment. “You are the only reason I feel anything. Before you, I was just a
dead shell,” Shane said, the words coming out rough because it was still hard
for him to share his emotions that way. “And I’m never going anywhere. I don’t care if you stayed in your
Leopard most of the time.” Trevor chuckled as he nuzzled Shane’s cheek. Shane returned the gesture, making it so they equally exchanged
scents. That way any shifter who came within five feet of them would know that
they were claimed and off limits. Trevor finally pulled away, then took Shane’s hand. “Come on.” “Where are you taking me?” Shane asked, even as he began to let
Trevor led the way. “No offense, but you’re still covered in blood and I’m not about
to let you get into bed and mess up my sheets. I just got the stains out from
the last time you pulled that stunt.” Shane laughed as they walked into the bathroom. He stood still and
let Trevor do all the work, the Panther slowly stripping off the remainder of
Shane’s clothes. Even going so far as to kneel at Shane’s feet and unlace his
boots. Once Shane was nude, Trevor stripped, then turned on the shower.
Taking Shane inside, Trevor tenderly washed every inch of Shane before trailing
soft kisses over the nearly healed scratch marks. They were both hard with need, but neither one made the encounter
sexual. Rather, it was a tender moment of one mate tending to the other’s
needs. It was something that just a few years ago, Shane never thought would
happen to him. Yet, there Trevor was, treating Shane as if he were important
and loved. Afterward, Trevor turned off the water and carefully dried them
off before leading Shane to the bed. They crawled under the covers and got into
their usual sleeping position of Shane spooning Trevor in a tight embrace. “How come I’m always the little spoon? I’m a couple inches taller
than you,” Trevor grumbled good-naturedly. “Because I can only sleep if I know I have you protected,” Shane
replied honestly. “You do realize I can handle myself in a fight. I may not be some
highly trained assassin like you, but I’m one of the coalition’s best soldiers.” “I know, I still haven’t gotten over that time you were captured
though,” Shane admitted. Only with Trevor could he lay himself out like that. Trevor let
out soft sigh as he placed a tender kiss on Shane’s forearm. “I’m not going anywhere
so go ahead and fall sleep. I promise I will always be here when you get up.” So many others had broken promises to Shane in the past, but he
knew Trevor would never do that to him. Shane closed his eyes and let himself
drift off. He was so tired and he knew that he had a huge battle ahead of
him. Lily was still out there and something told Shane that he would be
tangling with the bitch sooner rather than later. |
The Chronicles of Shane-Part Two
| Posted on October 6, 2011 at 7:53 PM |
comments (42)
|
| Shane
walked to his car as he continued to mull the problem of the Scorpion. The
biggest question of all was how in hell was he going to kill her? Scorpions
were known to be damn wily and this chick was the worst of all. The
corner of his lip lifted into a snarl as he recalled the last time he’d tangled
with her. It’d ended with him having a more than a few broken bones. And since
Shane still lived with his sadistic guardian at the time, he hadn’t been
allowed to shift to heal the wounds. So, that had resulted in a long, painful
recovery, of which he spent every second cursing her name—Lily. What in
the hell kind of name was that for a poisonous shifter anyway? The name always
made Shane think of a soft, gentle, nice woman. It sure as hell didn’t bring
forth an image of a six-foot, toned, dark-haired, she-devil who wouldn’t know a
fair fight in it came up and slapped her across her overly made-up face. Just
the thought of having to deal with her made him cranky, so when he caught the
slight scent of two Hyenas tracking him, it made him snarl. Not
even bothering to glance back at them, Shane growled, “I am so not in the mood
for this bullshit.” “Too
bad, because it’s coming your way,” came the nasally reply. Shane
paused, cocking his head to the side. “Did you really just say that? Come on,
not even the worst Western or action flick uses that line anymore.” “What’s
wrong with it?” “Besides
the fact that it’s so 1980s? I really don’t have time to list all of them.” “Are
you going to turn around and face us?” “No.” “Why
not?” Shane
sighed. “Because, you bore me.” “What?
You think just because you’re the great Shane that we’re beneath you?” “The Great Shane? Hmm…I may have to get
some business cards and shirts printed up with that. It really has a nice ring
to it.” Just as
he hoped for, that final taunt finally snapped the Hyenas’ thin thread of
self-control. The air filled with the sounds of snarls, then the pounding of
footsteps. Shane
flicked his wrists, allowing two blades to slide down his sleeves, the hilts
resting firmly into the palms of his hands. It wasn’t
until he could nearly feel their breath on the back of his neck that Shane
turned. At the same time, he swung the blades out, both of them connecting and
slicing into flesh. The
coppery tang of blood filled his nostrils along with the acrid scent of fear.
Unfortunately, or maybe in this case fortunately, neither smell was new to
Shane. One could say he’d even been weaned on them. “You
just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” he spat as he brought the
blades back in to position at his sides. He
tensed, ready for another attack and the damn Hyenas didn’t disappoint. While
he’d injured them, they still had plenty of fight left. A fact one of the
assholes proved when he swiped his claws out. Shane
ducked, but wasn’t fast enough. A soft hiss passed his lips as the claws ripped
into the right side of his face. More blood spilled onto the pavement and
damned if it wasn’t his this time. Well,
that just wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. “Now,
you’ve gone and really pissed me off,” Shane growled. He
finally got a good eyeful of his attackers, and to say he was unimpressed would
have been an understatement. It wasn’t
so much that they were both scrawny and wore dirty clothes. No, it was the fact
they both had frigging mullets. While Shane may not be into fashion like his
guardian, Dalton, he still knew that was just a no-no. “I
never did like Hyenas,” Shane said, spitting out a mouthful of blood because
the claws had gone all the way through his cheek. “Not only are you guys skeezy,
but some of you hurt a couple of friends of mine. And I happen to fiercely protect
those close to me.” The
Hyenas moved in again, but this time Shane was done playing. He swung the
blades around, this time with the intent to seriously maim. While he wasn’t
ticked enough to outright kill them, he wanted them to at least limp for the
rest of their lives. Dropping
down to his knees, he brought the blades around and cut into the back of the
Hyenas’ ankles, slicing into their achillies tendons. They
let out loud shrieks before they both dropped to the ground. One of them still
managed to reach out and strike Shane again, this time the claws digging into
his chest. Shane
bit back a curse as pain coursed through his body. Shit, that’d been his best
shirt, too. Now the damn thing was ruined. Even if he could get the blood out,
there was no way he’d ever be able to mend the tears. He
briefly debated taking his gun out and shooting the bastard for the offense,
but in the end he let it go. Not only had his coalition leader forbade him from
killing unless it was absolutely necessary, but Shane also promised Trevor he’d
cut down on the homicide. Trevor. Just
thinking that name soothed the anger in Shane. All of a sudden, he had an
intense longing to hold his mate in his arms. To be able to bury his nose in
the nape of Trevor’s neck and drink in the sweet scent of the man. He got
up, completely disregarding the Hyenas, who were rolling around and shrieking
in pain. He didn’t even give them a backward glance as he got into his car. His
fingers shook a bit as he turned on the engine, either from the blood loss or
the adrenaline crash. The drive home was short, however, so he made it there
without further incident. As he
stepped out, he took a moment to glance over the exterior of the old farmhouse
that he and his mate now lived in. Shane carefully searched out each shadow and
recess for signs of possible threats. Not that he expected any at the moment,
but old habits died hard. Only
when he was certain that all was clear and his mate was safe, did Shane relax.
He walked onto the porch, stumbling, as his vision began to swim a bit. Shit,
the chest wound must have been deeper than he thought. He put a hand to his
shirt, wincing when he realized just how badly he was bleeding. A
normal shifter would have noticed it sooner, but Shane was far from normal. He’d
been taught from an early age to ignore such trivial things as pain or blood
loss, so it wasn’t until things became really bad that he became concerned. He
opened the door, his hands leaving behind streaks of blood on the white wood.
Oops, that was sure to piss Trevor off. He hated it when things were messy.
Which never failed to surprise Shane, since he himself was the biggest mess of
all, yet Trevor still managed to fall in love with him. The
inside of the home was dark, but Shane didn’t need any lights to guide his way.
With his enhanced feline vision, he could see as clear as if it were day. He went
directly to the master bedroom and paused at the entrance to study his mate.
Trevor slept on his side, one hand tucked under his cheek. His plump lips were
slightly parted, a lock of his dark hair falling over his pale face, the
contrast of colors coming off as near perfection. And yet
everybody claimed it was Shane who had the angelic features. How wrong they
were. In Shane’s opinion there was only one angel and it was his Panther. Trevor’s
lids blinked open, his green-eyed gaze instantly becoming alert. “Shane? Are
you okay?” Since
he knew Trevor no doubt already smelled the blood, Shane didn’t lie. “No, I may
have been nicked a bit.” Even as
he said that, a fresh wave of blood surged from his wound, droplets falling to
the hardwood floors with a quick succession of splatters. Yeah, there was no
doubt about it, Shane was making a real mess. Well, damn. This isn’t how I planned for my
evening to end. |
NOLA and a new cover!
| Posted on October 4, 2011 at 7:20 PM |
comments (62)
|
 I have so much news to share. First off, I have contracted a new YA series with eXtasy Books mainstream line, Divine Destinies! The series is called, The Haven Coffee House Boys and the first book will be titled, Light Outside the Closet. It will center around five gay teens, during their senior year of high school, and show how they all deal with being accepted by their family, friends and classmates. I'm very excited about this project and can't wait for the book to come out this February. I'm also getting ready for the GayRom Lit Retreat next week. Not only will I be handing out all kinds of fun goodies, but I'll be taking part in the booksigning as well! My sister, Jackie is coming along with me and I can't wait to relax and have some fun with her. We've never taken a sisters' only trip before, so this little adventure is long overdue. |
Life Over Limb
| Posted on October 1, 2011 at 7:13 PM |
comments (2541)
|
 Available now at eXtasy Books!Blurb: After a patient tragically dies while under his care, mobile trauma nurse Tanner withdraws into himself. No longer working out in the field, he’s stuck on the midnight shift at St. Anthony’s Hospital and with each passing day, he sinks deeper into depression. Ricky loves his job as a radiology tech. While he enjoys working with patients, the highlight of his day used to be when Tanner would bring a patient into the hospital. Although the nurse’s flirting was sometimes over the top, Ricky found himself growing attracted to the man. So when he learns that Tanner has taken a full-time job at the hospital, Ricky is excited…until he realizes that Tanner is a shell of the man he used to be. Ricky vows that no matter what he has to do, he will bring Tanner out of his depression. Will Ricky be able to make Tanner want to embrace life again? Or will Ricky lose the nurse to his own inner demons? Excerpt: After the rest of the kids filed out, Ricky started to clean up the mess so he could make them a decent breakfast. “Why don’t you rest and let me do that?” Tanner offered. Ricky knelt down and swiped up a bit of the juice-milk combo that had been missed. He straightened and tossed the paper towels into the trash. “You don’t need to bother. I ate on the drive home, remember? I’m feeling much better.” In truth, Ricky still felt a bit shaky and tired, but he’d die before he admitted it. He already looked dorky enough as it was without adding more to it. A bit of a jam ended up on his scrub top and he took it off, regretting it immediately when he realized he’d worn a Doctor Who shirt underneath. It even had a picture of one of The Daleks on it with the words Exterminate! He glanced down at it, heat covering his cheeks. “Can you not tell Ben about this? He loves to ride me for loving this show.” “Why? I happened to love The Doctor.” Tanner started to help clear the remaining mess on the table. Relief flooded Ricky and he found himself falling just a little bit harder for the nurse. “Ben worries that I don’t get out enough,” Ricky confessed. “Trust me, the club and bar scene are really overrated.” Tanner moved closer and ran a finger down Ricky’s chest. “Personally, I’d rather stay in and watch TV.” “Really? Because if you want, we could come back after we drop off the kids…what I mean is if you’re not busy or….hell, you may not even be interested, and if you’re not, that’s okay. It would suck, but I won’t get upset… Not that I really don’t want—” Tanner cut him off with a soft but intense kiss that demanded Ricky give it his full attention. Something he gladly did and then some. Letting out a short gasp, he brought his hands up and grabbed Tanner’s shoulders, wanting to get even closer to the man. Ricky parted his lips, allowing Tanner to slide his tongue in his mouth. Desire punched through Ricky at the warm, spicy taste of Tanner. Each stroke of the man’s tongue seemed to go directly to Ricky’s cock, making him so hard and needy that he let out a couple of whimpers. Tanner broke the kiss, but didn’t step back. Gazing down, he gently ran the pad of his thumb over Ricky’s bottom lip. Feeling a bit bold, Ricky darted his tongue out so he could lick the man’s skin. “You taste so good,” Ricky whispered. “Not nearly as good as you do,” Tanner whispered back, before going in for another kiss. |
The Chronicles of Shane-Part One
| Posted on September 22, 2011 at 11:06 AM |
comments (210)
|
 The shifter-owned bar smelled just exactly the same as it had the last time Shane had been there—stinky as hell.Maybe Shane shouldn’t be too judgmental of the owner. After all, it must be damn hard to clean up after so many different breeds of shifters. They were all present—Cheetahs, Wolves, Ravens, Hawks and even an Alligator were all in their human forms, lounging around the run-down, dive. And a dive it was. From the rough, stained wood floors, to the pitted walls that were covered in a god-awful shade of brown paint. No doubt the color had been chosen for its ability to hide stains, but that didn’t make it any less of an eyesore. Shane quickly cast his gaze around the place, looking for both threats and possible exits, should things become froggy. Which they had the tendency to do whenever he was involved. As both Leopard and assassin, danger seemed to forever be by his side. Maybe he didn’t like it to be that way, but that didn’t matter. That was the way things always were and he didn’t see them changing any time soon. Pulling his dark hood over his head, he slowly walked to the back of the buidling. He could feel the curious stares practically burning holes into his dark, black uniform, but chose to ignore them, since he had a bigger target in his sights—the Jackal shifter tending bar. Tacked to the wall by the bartender’s head was a poster of Shane. It wasn’t an actual photo, but rather an artist’s rendition. They still managed to capture his big doe eyes, soft, short, curly, brown hair and youthful face. Some liked to call his looks angelic. Rather than be offended by the observation, Shane embraced it. After all, it was much easier to take out a target when they assumed that their stalker was just an innocent kid who didn’t have a clue. Unfortunately for him, his reputation preceded him this instance. By the time he reached the bar, the Jackal was shaking and a visible sheen of sweat had built up on the man’s bald head. Several tattoos were on his head and face, they were of various designs, most of which could be considered mildly offensive. Shane nearly rolled his eyes when he spotted one that was a hand with its middle finger extended. That gem marked the middle of the Jackal’s forehead. Subtle must be a word that this idiot had never heard of. Shane flashed a cold smile at the shifter. It was the same grin Shane always used when he wanted to scare the shit out of somebody. Funny how a friendly gesture could be so dame terrifying at times. “Hello, I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me.” Might as well start off polite. While Shane already knew things would be getting physical and dirty, he did want to be able to tell his coalition leader that he’d tried to play nice at first. The Jackal pointed a shaking finger to the poster. “You’re not allowed in here.” Shane tilted his head to the side, studying the picture as if it were the first time he noticed it. “Hmmm…look at that, you guys don’t want me here. Now that just hurts my feelings.” “What do you expect? You’re a barbarian.” Now Shane directed that assessing glare at the Jackal. “This coming from a guy who has a topless woman tattooed on his cheek? Consider me not concerned about any opinion you may have.” “Why don’t you just leave?” The Jackal then did something so dumb Shane almost couldn’t believe it. The inked up jerk lifted the corner of his lip and snarled, which in the shifter world was a clear sign of aggression. Aggravated, Shane was tempted to reach over the bar to teach the asshat a lesson. In the end, Shane held back but only because he needed the guy alive and talking. Besides, Shane knew that the shifter was never going to back up his threat. Not only did the Jackal still have that sweating thing going on, but the fear rolled off him in waves. So Shane realized the bartender was only reacting to the ball-numbing terror he was experiencing. “I’m feeling really nice tonight so I’m going to let your behavior slide,” Shane said in the calm tone he knew always spooked others so much. “But one more fuckup and I’m going to introduce you to my favorite dagger.” “You wouldn’t dare. Your leader won’t allow you to just run around and hurt at will like you used to.” Whipping out his dagger, Shane buried the tip into the rough wood of the bar, the blade missing the Jackal’s hand by mere inches.The bartender froze, a small whimper passing though his lips. “Heads up, Mitchell pays me to hurt people so you better start getting cooperative real quick or else I’m going to do some overtime on your ass.” The Jackal swallowed hard a few times, his wide-eyed gaze never leaving the dagger. “What is that you want?” “There’s been some feline families being attacked. Now, I’m sure you heard from the last time when the snake shifters were doing that kind of shit how cranky it makes us when other felines are threatened. I want to know who’s behind it.” “I don’t know anything. I swear.” Shane made tsking noises as he shook his head. “Now, Jackie, you’re just insulting me.” Going by the way the Jackal cringed, he was either even more afraid or annoyed at the nickname Shane just laid on him. Not caring either way, Shane continued, “This is exactly the kind of place slime comes to relax and I know how talky those idiots can be once they have some booze in their system, so don’t piss around and tell me you haven’t heard anything. We both know that’s not true.” “Okay, just don’t cut me, please. I may have heard that it was a group of Scorpion shifters. There’s some woman that’s leading them and she’s supposed to be mean.” “Even meaner than me?” Shane blinked innocently. Jackie nodded. “They say that she makes even you look sane.” Shane pulled out the blade, satisfied that he had what he needed. Without bothering to say goodbye or fuck off, he turned and left. The entire time his mind was mulling over the new information and what he was coming up with wasn’t good at all. He had a sneaky suspicion about who the Jackal was talking about and if so, the felines were in deep shit. Scorpions were bad to begin with, but this bitch was the worst of all. And her hatred for felines knew no bounds. |
