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H.C.Brown
BLURB: Dumped in the Nomag (human) world by his future realm, Ecatnie Pride parents, Ryland Strange is doing okay, using magyck to win at the casino. On the way home one afternoon, he collides with a guy walking along the sidewalk. He takes the hot sexy, Lor, to his house to recover. They have an instant connection until Lor tells Ryland he is not of this world.
Excerpt:
Ryland's face broke into a slow, wolfish smile. He rested his chin on his fist and with eyes pools of lust, he met Lor's gaze.
Lor put down his empty mug. "I just happen to prefer males."
"Hmm, well then, I'm going to take a shower; you may join me . . . or not. If you're shy, you can use the one in the other bedroom. I want you in my bed . . . and I know you don't want to fuck. I can deal with that . . . until you're ready," Ryland said in a low, husky voice. He got up slowly and walked down the hall whistling.
Lor stared after him, his stomach jittery. Gods, Nox had insisted Lor not fall in love with the Ecatnie. Too late. He ached for him. He walked slowly along the hall and slipped through the open door of the second bedroom. The dark room held a large, wooden bed, a cupboard, and nothing else. He could see clearly, even with the lack of lighting, and walked through the room. He switched on the light in the bathroom, stripped, and then stepped into the shower.
His heart raced at the thought of Ryland, wet and soapy, just down the hall. He fisted his hard shaft and stroked. Hot water cascaded down his back, filling the cubicle with steam. He leaned back against the cold tiles with a moan. Minutes later, the cubicle door swung open.
"Come to bed. I guarantee I'll be more satisfying than your palm." Ryland reached around him to turn off the shower.
Lor took the blue towel handed him and wrapped it around his waist as he stepped from the shower. "I don't doubt that for a second—"
Ryland pinned him against the wall; his hot mouth closed hard over Lor's. His kiss was punishing, demanding. Their tongues danced and Lor sucked in the Ecatnie's intoxicating scent, drowning with the potency. Ryland walked them out of the bathroom, his hot mouth moving across Lor's lips. He gripped Lor's arms and lowered him onto the bed. With one swift movement, Ryland whipped the towel from around Lor's hips and began a slow trail of blistering kisses down his chest. Gods, yes.
Lor cried out the instant Ryland's tongue swirled around the top of his cock. Bucking from the heat of Ryland's breath alone, he moaned. Ryland's scorching mouth closed over his shaft, taking it deep into his wet heat. Lor's fingers found Ryland's damp hair and gripped tightly. Mind reeling with need, he surged up with hips, driving his shaft deep into Ryland's throat. The man took him deep, his strong hands clasping Lor's buttocks, urging him faster. Sensations flamed up his legs, curled in his balls with every tantalizing stroke. Ryland knew how to please a male, how to tease with his tongue, how to scrape his teeth along his shaft to drive him wild. Lor tipped his head back and grinned into the darkness.
Ryland relished Lor's sweet, musky taste. His cat purred, urging him to fuck him. He swirled his tongue over the weeping slit, delighting in the unique flavor. He cupped Lor's balls—naked, hairless delights. In fact, apart from his head, this man had not a single hair on his peach fuzz skin. Long and full, much the size as his own, Lor's cock slid across Ryland's tongue. He would enjoy feeling him buried deep in his ass. Soon, Lor would trust him; this connection between them was real. It burned in him with a ferocious desire.
Lor vibrated under Ryland's touch, his balls drew up tight, and he spilled. Hot damn, he tasted like honey. Ryland wanted so much more—to feast on him, to lick every part of Lor's delectable body. How he needed to bury himself inside that tight ass and hear his name cried out in bliss. He licked Lor clean, loving the slight tremble of the man's legs against his chest. Lor's fingers, once curled so tight in his hair, now stroked Ryland's ears in a gentle caress. Ryland crawled up Lor's damp body, and, resting on his elbows, stared into his lover's eyes. "Feel better now?"
"I do, but you're left wanting," Lor said, running a hand down Ryland's back.
Ryland grinned and rolled off the bed. "I keep my word. Although, if you change your mind, my bed is much bigger . . . and I have toys."
Bite Here Anthology Two bloody hot tales of paranormal manlove from two oftoday's most talented erotic romance authors.
Released date: 5 JULY 2010- Noble Romance Publishing
The Vampire's Assistant by Stormy Glenn
Jon Brighten had a brand new college degree, a student loan dogging him, and a spot to sleep on his sister's couch. He knew needed to find a job and move out, especially when he heard that his sister and her husband were expecting a baby. It was time to find his own place but first he needed a job.
Applying for the personal assistant position to the reclusive Nikolas Vaile, CEO of Vaile Industries, one of the largest pharmaceutical and research companies in the world, seemed a little too high seeking, but what did Jon have to lose?
His blood?
Could there be a good side to being sucked into a future realm? Leo Marshal thinks so, he found his dream lover, Ashrin of Ecatnie Pride. The only problem is; Leo is afraid Ashrin will love him . . . to death.
Excerpt:
From Pure, Hot Sin by H.C. Brown:
Chapter One
"You belong to me, Leo."
The voice spilled over him like liquid silk, the man's face a dark shadow in the twilight. Leo lowered his head to nuzzle the hairless balls, to drink in the rich, hypnotic scent he craved. Under his palms, strong thigh muscles tensed, moving under sweat-soaked skin. Leo moved his mouth, pressing kisses up his lover's long, hard shaft. Strong fingers twisted in Leo's hair, dragging his mouth to the weeping slit.
"Open your mouth; suck me." The deep, sensual voice commanded.
Leo swiped his tongue across the tip, the familiar, rich, musky flavor bursting across his tongue. His heart clenched; he loved this man with a soul-destroying passion. This man completed him. His dream lover, his ultimate fantasy. Leo moaned in bliss. He couldn't wait to taste him again and lunged forward to slide his tongue across the velvet shaft.
I don't know your name. Tell me your name.
The bed began to lurch and roll. The dream faded and he awoke achingly hard and frustrated. Damn it. Why do I always have the same dream?
"Winds of up to one hundred and fifty miles an hour . . . ."
Leo Marshall lifted the baseball cap off his eyes and yawned. What was that?
Stretching, he eased out of the chair and pulled up his fishing rod. The balmy summer day had vanished, hidden behind a violent, black storm front. Clouds of every shade of grey charged across the sky. An icy wind cut through his t-shirt and whipped the once glassy, blue ocean into angry, white caps. In the distance, lightning brought flashes of the coastline, misshapen behind a wall of torrential rain.
Fuck. Leo secured his belongings and ducked inside the cabin. On the two-way, he could hear the Coastguard giving out warnings. He radioed in his details and position.
"You won't make it to Harper's Peak; didn't you hear the warnings?" came the response. "You will have to try and ride it out. We have your position. Do you have a satellite beacon?"
Leo ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, I do, thank God."
The Coastguard signed off and Leo stood transfixed, watching the sea join the inky blue of the sky and close in around him, plunging him into twilight. The Laura Jane rolled and dipped, huge waves crashing over her bow. Leo dragged on his life jacket and pulled his way to the stern to up anchor. Wind tore off his baseball cap, dragged his long hair from its binding and whipped it across his eyes. Brushing at his face, he looked up at the savage sky; his eyes widened. "Holy fuck."
Highlighted by blanket lightning, a funnel rose from the sea. The awesome beast swirled high into the clouds and danced across the ocean like a giant hydra. Long trails of water undulated from its twisting neck with gaping maws. The wind roared, lashing salty rain into his face and tearing at his clothes with icy fingers. Leo dropped the anchor on the deck and battled his way back to the cabin. I've got to get out of here. He depressed the start button on the engine, once, twice.
Nothing.
He ran his arm over his face, swiping at seawater stinging his eyes, and tried again. "Come on girl."
The motor caught and burst into life. Leo laughed in triumphant desperation and fought frantically to turn the craft around. A great surge of boiling water picked up the Laura Jane and dragged the small craft up to the crown of a gigantic wave. Leo clung to the wheel, water swirling in the cabin up to his knees. The boat hovered on the crest then surfed down the shimmering wall at world record speed. Leo looked down the face of the twenty-foot wave and gasped. I'll never out run it.
The boat crashed into the foaming water, bobbing like a cork. It lurched to one side and the crab basket and fishing tackle slammed against Leo's legs. In his hands, the slippery wheel fought against him, spinning one way and then the other. The bow dipped sharply and the propeller broke free of the waves, the engine screaming in protest. The sea roared its discontent, and before him, a whirlpool opened up, a giant vortex sucking everything to oblivion.
Leo swallowed, fear closing his throat, ears deafened with the roar that sounded like a freight train. The Laura Jane lay on its side, dark, swirling water pinning it in its embrace. Whipped into a giant centrifuge in hell, Leo joined the speeding procession of marine debris. Above, a mountain of spinning, black water, below, a swirling orifice of black and green sank down to the depths of hell.
Leo clung to the cabin door, his legs floating in midair. The howl of a thousand devils shrieked in his head. The roof of the cabin ripped off in a whine of twisted metal. He looked up one last time, seeking the heavens. Within the madness, a strange calmness enclosed him. His fingers grew numb and slipped off the cabin door. Goodbye, Mom and Dad.
