Friday, May 25, 2012

Debut author: Go Big or Go Home

Very excited to welcome V.S. Morgan to the blog, discussing her debut M/M release, "The Gift." I'm done saying it ... after this mention ... but Morgan was a student in my Writing the Short Story for Anthology Call-out class in January, and I'm thrilled to see the 1Night Stand she wrote for the class now published!

Has life ever kicked your ass? It’s kicked mine a few times. My response? Get back up and make the best of things.

A few years ago, I realized I was playing it safe after a few of these ass kickings. I had drifted into a job I excelled at and made good money but was miserable. What was missing? The answer was I had no creative outlet. After some soul searching, I came to the conclusion that I was cruising through life. After a resounding “fuck that!”  I decided to go big and pursue my writing dream. I now balance the day job and my writing career with the goal of becoming a full-time writer one day.

I’m happy to share with you an excerpt of my first book “The Gift,” part of the 1Night Stand series from Decadent Publishing.

“The Gift” is a reunion story.  Life did some ass kicking, and as a result two lovers had to go their separate ways. Were they okay? Yes. Were they whole? Hell no.  So what happens when they take a chance with a 1Night Stand?

Thank you, Louisa, for hosting me and for all your support in my journey. 

Thanks everyone for stopping by! Please comment with your email address for a chance to win a copy of “The Gift.”

The Gift
By V.S. Morgan
1Night Stand series, Decadent Publishing

At twenty-two, rancher Wyatt Malone sacrificed almost everything, including the Dom he served and loved, to raise his younger brothers. Now, with the ranch running well, his grown up siblings surprise him with a trip to a Caribbean paradise and a date from Madame Evangeline's 1Night Stand. Taking his courage in hand, he fills out an application that bares his soul for a single night of surrender to a nearly forgotten passion.

Rafael is a Dom without a sub. His desires exceed the available men in the dungeon he frequents and memories of rejected love keep him aloof. Can the submission of a Montana cowboy free him or will the date be nothing more than another meaningless scene?


Rafael blotted his mouth with his napkin and placed it on the table. Wyatt set his fork down and waited. The old familiar energy pulsed between them. Heat zipped through his groin, and he shifted in his seat as his erection pressed against his jeans.
“Wyatt, you asked Madame Eve for a Dominant for one night.” Rafael slid a keycard on the table between them. “If you accept my invitation to play, you will take this card and be in my suite, ready, in fifteen minutes.”
Without hesitation, he reached over and grasped it. When his wrist was grabbed, tugging him forward, Wyatt braced his free hand on the table and accepted Rafael’s lips. At first they brushed, a tease, and then the kiss became a sensual play of tongues. His heart pounded at the taste of curry and tequila. He twirled his tongue around the other man’s and groaned. Rafael’s lips trailed across his jaw and down his neck, stubble scraping across sensitive skin, creating a rasp of pleasure that flowed all the way down his spine.
The Dom followed it with a nip on the bottom lip and then pulled back, twisting Wyatt’s wrist slightly to glance at his watch. Rafael released him and leaned back with a wicked grin. Wyatt’s heart raced.
“You now have thirteen minutes.”
About V.S. Morgan

V.S. Morgan has lived all over the United States but now calls Minnesota home. She incorporates her travels and experiences into her stories whenever possible. V.S. dreamed of becoming an author from the tender age of eleven after snagging one of her mom’s Harlequins. She writes contemporary, suspense, and paranormal m/m with heart and heat. “The Gift” is her debut publication. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and the Rainbow Romance Writers and Kiss of Death chapters. When not writing, V.S. is playing with her dogs, practicing Kempo Karate, and reading lots of erotic romance.

Where to find V.S.

Facebook – V.S. Morgan
Twitter - @vsmorgan1

Thursday, May 24, 2012

“Bad” vs. Good: The Sexual Divide

As a writer of erotic romance, I sometimes feel like I’m doing something that some consider “shameful.” It’s “porn,” and should be banned. And yet, there’s another section of society that embraces our freedoms of expression, and even points toward sexy romance as helping others. This conflict leaves humanity – since the battle is not just within the United States – in a sexual divide.

Come visit Flirty Author Bitches, to join in the discussion! 

Friday, May 18, 2012

Writing the Spooky with Cate Dean

We're going a little darker today with our guest Cate Dean, and her release "Rest for the Wicked." If you're looking for the Hop Against Homophobia, it's right below ...

I love being scared, have ever since I was little. So it’s no surprise that I am drawn to the spooky, the scary, the supernatural in my writing.

In Rest For The Wicked I go deeper into the supernatural than I have before – and the consequences for my characters were more devastating than even I planned when I first started out on this journey with them.

As a writer, it is startling – and often unsettling – when the ending that was carefully plotted is not the ending that actually occurs. As I headed toward that now inevitable conclusion, I realized that the choices I had made, the choices my characters made, could have led nowhere else.

I have written my share of scary – scenes that make me sit back when I’m done, my hands shaky. I have a vivid imagination, and because I’m so visual, I do my best to bring that to the page. But this book had me sucking in my breath more than once – and readers have given me feedback that proves I’m not the only one.

When Louisa so graciously offered to host me today, she asked this: What was the scariest moment I had while writing the book? I have to say it was while I was barreling toward that conclusion, and knowing that it was going to be the hardest scene I ever wrote.

Thank you, Louisa, for giving me such an interesting topic to explore, and for having me here today.

Rest for the Wicked
By Cate Dean
Book One The Claire Wiche Chronicles

Claire Wiche is an ordinary woman, running her Wicca shop, The Wiche’s Broom, in an ordinary California beach town.

But Claire wasn’t always ordinary, and she isn’t quite human. She hides a secret, and a past she thought she had put behind her.

A past that is about to explode into her present.

When it does, and everyone she loves is in danger, Claire must face up to her past – and become what she left behind in order to save them.


Claire Wiche guided her unhappy customer through her shop, one arm around the woman’s hunched shoulders.
“You know I don’t do love spells, Mildred.”
“But I know if he could see me, really see me, he’d fall desperately in—”
“Would it be real, if he’s under an enchantment?”
Mildred pouted, not a pretty sight on an eighty-year-old woman. “What happened to the customer is always right?”
Biting her lip on a smile, Claire walked her through the open door.
“Never been my policy. And I have good reasons for that.” She rubbed the old woman’s arm. “You go on home now. I’ll phone you when my new shipment of crystals shows up.”
Leaning against the narrow porch post, Claire watched her toddle down the sidewalk, sunlight bouncing off the thin silver poodle curls. The morning gloom had burned off early, and it looked like the start of another beautiful day.
She crossed her arms, cold despite the sweater she slipped on earlier. It took longer to warm up lately, a fact she did her best to ignore.
“Are you cold again, Claire? It’s got to be at least 80 in the store.”
Unless, of course, a well-meaning friend shoved it in her face.
She turned around, forced a smile. “Is it, Annie? I must have forgotten to turn it down this morning.”
“How could you not notice? The candles are sweating.” Annie Sullivan—the lively, no-holds-barred friend Claire never expected to have in her life—stepped across the small porch that ran along the front of the shop, her almost six foot height topping Claire by a good ten inches. She caught one hand before Claire could shove them in her pockets. “You’re like ice. Again.” She looked down at Claire, concern in her warm brown eyes. “And you’re avoiding. Again.”
With a sigh, Claire squeezed her hand before easing out of it. The warmth in Annie’s fingers made her skin tingle, yearn.
“Time to turn that heat down before the candles become a puddle.”
Annie followed her back inside, hovering while she adjusted the thermostat to a more reasonable temperature. She would need a heavier sweater.
“Come on,” Annie said, hands on her hips. “Give.”
Shaking her head, Claire smiled, a real smile this time. “Would I’m just cold and tired do it for you?”
“Hardly.” Annie stood in front of the counter, looking like a golden Amazon ready for battle. “But it’ll have to until I can get you drunk and pry the truth out of you.”
Laughter burst out of Claire. “I’d like to see that.”
“Yeah, so would I. If you actually touched the stuff.” She gave Claire a wicked smile. “I could always slip you a mickey.”
“You could—if I wasn’t able to smell it from across the room.”
 “Slapped down again. Hey—what if we just tried—”
“Not again. Never again.” Claire still felt the residual agony from her one failed attempt at social drinking.
“How do you do that?” Those warm brown eyes narrowed as they studied her. “How do you always know what I’m going to say?”
Claire reached up and patted her cheek. “I’m a witch, sweetheart. It’s what I do.”
“Wait.” She grabbed Claire’s hand, pushed her sleeve up to reveal the bandage that peeked out. “Is that another tattoo? What is it this time?”
Claire flushed. The second reason she put on a sweater this morning.
“A triquetra.”
“More protection? Jeez, Claire, the pentacle on your hip isn’t enough?”
“There is no such thing as too much protection.” She pulled free and walked around the counter. “And the subject is closed.”
“Okay, I can take a hint. I’ll drop in sometime tomorrow, see if you need any help during the festival madness.”
“That will be most appreciated.”
Annie strode to the door, her long legs taking her through the small shop in a few paces. She paused in the doorway. “Hey, Claire—I’m worried, and I poke when I’m worried. I’ll leave it alone for now. But if you don’t get better, I’ll do more than poke.”
“Annie.” She stuck her head back in. “Don’t you even think about taking on Mildred’s love spell.”
Color rushed into her cheeks.
“I wasn’t—”
“I mean it. Last time you nearly had your victim falling in love with her cat.”
“Never gonna let me live that one down, are you?”
Claire smiled. “Not if it keeps you from trying again.”
Annie cursed under her breath and stalked out.
Chuckling, Claire made a mental note to put feelers out. Annie had more than enough power, and just enough knowledge to make her dangerous.
Without warning the pain stabbed her; a blade of ice in her gut.
Bracing her hands on the counter, she fought to breathe, fought to keep herself upright. Shaking so hard her rings clattered against the granite countertop, she gained enough control to lower herself to the chair that she recently added, out of necessity.
“God above—” She pressed both arms against her stomach, prayed for a slow morning. If she believed God would actually listen to her, after all this time, she’d ask the single question that haunted her.
Is this how it feels to be dying?

About the Author

Cate Dean has been writing since she could hold a pen and put more than two words together on paper. She grew up losing herself in the wilds of fantasy worlds, and has had some of her own adventures while tromping through the UK, and a few other parts of the world. A lover of all things supernatural, she infuses that love into her stories, giving them a unique edge. When she’s not writing, she loves cooking, scaring herself silly in the local cemeteries, and reading pretty much anything she can get her hands on.

Website: Cate Dean

Twitter: @catedeanwrites

Facebook Page: Cate Dean Writes

Goodreads: Author page

Thursday, May 17, 2012

The Choice of Love – Hop Against Homophobia

Today, I’m happy to take part in the Hop Against Homophobia. Commenters will be entered to win an electronic copy of my M/M novel, “The Vampire & The Werewolf: A New Orleans Christmas,” and U.S. winners also can get a goody bag, including a NYC “Rainbow” condom. (If you’re international, we can talk shipping costs!)

On many levels, I don’t get involved within political spectrums. With my background in journalism, we’ve been taught to stay objective, which often means don’t sign anything, don’t protest and certainly don’t stick any sort of candidate signs on your doorstep. (Too bad my conservative mate doesn’t feel the same way, but that’s another subject!)

Anyway, equal rights and the right to marry and love who one wants is vital. It’s hard to imagine that it’s even an issue, but I’m glad that the subject has become forefront in the minds of many people. Unfortunately, I’ve seen a relative pass away without his loved one by his side, because at that time there were no regulations or provisions in place.

Paul lived with his partner for more than 10 years. Growing up in a traditional, Italian family, his parents never addressed the relationship. Instead, his partner was his “roommate.” In the early ‘90s, when Paul contracted HIV, and then AIDS, he was hospitalized for his final few weeks. Since they were not married, his partner had no rights to visit him in the hospital, and the parents did not allow it. Seeing and knowing that added trauma had a profound effect upon me. How could his family keep the person he had chosen to share his life with, away?

Since then, we’ve come a long way. Even though many states do not allow same-sex marriage, there is paperwork that an individual can do to ensure their wishes are met in an emergency. The solution is simple: Let everyone have that chance, and choice for love.

Here’s a glimpse at the M/M novel I’m giving away as part of this hop:

The Vampire & The Werewolf: A New Orleans Christmas
Louisa Bacio

Vampires and werewolves don’t mix … or do they?

Before there were three, there were two. When a vampire swoops in to save Trevor from a rogue gang’s blood sport, the werewolf must fight his own inhibitions. The magic of New Orleans and the holiday season bring together these two unlikely lovers.

Thank you for visiting, and please leave an email address so the winner may be contacted. The contest ends May 20, and a winner will be chosen via the following day. Also, make sure to visit the other stops on the Hop Against Homophobia.

Louisa Bacio

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Dealing with Bisexuality in a Marriage

Today, I welcome a very special guest, Shay MacLean. Shay is one of my writers. We met via Savvy Authors, and she submitted a sweet romantic tale Shooting Stars for the Tramp Stamp line at Keith Publications. Wait until you see how far she’s come with Falling Star! From a novella with nary a full sex scene, to a 60,000+ word well-rounded ménage. Oh, baby, Hopefully, you’ll fall in love with Willa, Schy and Kee as much as I did.

Shay will be giving away a bundled package of Shooting Stars and Falling Star to one commenter. Contest ends on Friday, May 18, at midnight EST.

By Shay MacLean

The definition of bisexuality according to is a person sexually responsive to both sexes;  ambisexual. While it can be as simple as being sexually attracted to people of both sexes, I think the reality of it is more complex for most people. The response can be emotional and romantic attraction as well. So what happens when you’ve lived with the belief that you’re married to someone only to have them reveal to you they’re attracted both sexes?

In some cases, they may have had relationships with members of the same sex in the past and have come to the realization that they want to pursue a relationship outside of your marriage to fill a need within themselves. Occasionally, though it can be a revelation about themselves they didn’t realize until later in life. How do you handle a situation where your significant other comes to you and lays their soul bare hoping that you’ll understand and accept this as a part of them?

I believe the logical first step is to realize they aren’t saying they want to leave, but for you to accept them for who they are. With the knowledge that they are also trying to explain they feel they are able to love more than one person at a time. Just because they have come out as bisexual doesn’t mean your relationship is going to end. It merely means there needs to be some more open and honest communication in your marriage then there is in most in this day and age.

In Falling Star, Willa is a member of the former group I mentioned. She knew Schy had been in a relationship with a man before they met, but she still has to come to terms with her husband’s sexuality. She goes through just about every possible emotion you can imagine trying to understand what Schy finds appealing about being with a man and that he also might love another as much as he loves her.

I hope that in reading Falling Star you’ll open your mind and heart if you haven’t already to learn more about bisexuality. Even more so, I hope you will come to understand how bisexuality wouldn’t necessarily mean the end of your marriage (if it happens to you), but the beginning of a new chapter with lots of options to explore.

So what would you say if your significant other came to you and said they had realized they were bisexual?

Falling Star Blurb:
Willa Brock possesses everything a woman could hope for – great friends, a rewarding career and a loving husband – until her world begins to crumble. Almost overnight, she doubts her abilities as a doctor and must battle some inner demons she thought she’d laid to rest.

Although head over heels for his wife, Schyler still harbors a desire to be with men. When Willa confesses an attraction to the hot male nurse, Keenan, Schy goes out of his way to befriend him, hoping to satisfy his desires and ignite new ones with his wife. But he may not be able to convince Willa that loving Keenan won’t change how he feels about her.

Playing the role of odd-man out, Keenan needs to carve a place for himself with the two people he wants most; otherwise, he risks losing everything.

Just when it seems like the sky is falling they must close their eyes and wish upon a star…and embrace the possibility that combining three hearts will strengthen the love each holds for the other…

Chapter 1
The snick of the bolt sliding into place echoed though the locker room as Willa scrambled to finish pulling on her T-shirt. Not now. I need to be alone. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She needed to forget what happened–at least for a few moments.

"Where are you headed?" a masculine voice said.

She didn’t have to look to see who it was: Kee. His voice had haunted her dreams for the past two months. And tormented her waking moments as well. He and her husband, Schy, had become almost inseparable since Kee discovered her deep dark secret: Her tramp stamp.

In the last couple of weeks, they’d both started hinting that they wanted all three of them to be more than just friends. She’d been warming up to the idea. Until her run-in with Brian, her ex-fiancé. The things he’d revealed splashed cold water on the idea with the force of a waterfall.

"Did you know that Schy was involved with a man before he met you?" He’d asked her and she’d told him that she was fully aware of it, but she’d not been prepared for what he’d asked her next. "But, did he tell you he wasn’t the one to break it off?"

She shook her head to rid it of that information. Now was not the time to examine it and what it might mean. Especially with Kee standing behind her, watching her every move. "Out of here," she said, the words coming out more terse than she meant.

"Okay. I’ll come with you."

Willa finally looked around her locker door. He stood leaning against the wall near the door. His long muscled legs crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed over his chest like he didn’t have a care in the world. "I don’t think so, Kee. I need to be alone." She pulled her purse out of the locker and shut it with a resounding bang.

Kee watched her as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

"The last thing you need is to be alone, Willa. I’m going to stick to you like glue until you get home to Schy." He moved to stand in front of the door.

Willa’s head snapped up at the tone in his voice. "I don’t need a babysitter. I can make it home all by myself. Now move out of my way. I’m not in the mood for this shit."

He straightened to his full six foot height. He would tower over her by a good five inches taller than her when she stood beside him. "No."

"Okay, I’ll just call security then and let them come in here and they can escort you out." She reached into her pocket for her cell phone.

"Schy was right. You shouldn’t be alone."

Her fingers froze on the keypad. She looked up at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Kee dropped his arms to his sides and moved forward, not stopping until mere inches separated them. "It means exactly what it sounds like. I called Schy after you refused to let me go with you to talk to that kid’s parents. You’ve been acting like a robot since you had to call it in the operating room, Willa. It’s not like you to bottle everything up."

"You don’t know anything about me, Keenan. You don’t know if I ‘bottle things up’ at times or not. Now just leave me the hell alone and let me go." She stared into his eyes. They’d gone from their normal sparkling green like sun dappled leaves to a deep emerald green. She hated that she knew already that they always seemed to do that when his emotions about something were strong.

They were that color a lot whenever he was around her or Schy.

"I’m afraid I can’t do that. Schy gave me strict instructions not to let you leave here, alone." He gazed deep into her eyes before adding, "By any means necessary."

Willa felt something snap inside. Schy and Kee were both acting like she belonged to them. Oh, they didn’t realize that she saw the way they stared down every guy that looked at her whenever they went out somewhere. Or the way they always seemed to flank her as they walked through a crowded area. This was the last straw though. She could ignore the subtle stuff, but demanding that she not leave somewhere without one of them was bullshit.

She’d had enough.

She narrowed her eyes on him. "I don’t care what the hell my husband said. I’m sick and tired of the two of you acting like I’m some sort of possession that you can pass back and forth. Neither one of you has the right to tell me when I can and can’t be alone." She pushed past him, her arm brushing against his as she went. A jolt of awareness shot through her.

She pushed the feeling away. She was married. She couldn’t have feelings like that for another man.

Only for her husband.

She’d just reached the door when she felt Kee’s hand grab hold of one of her shoulders. He turned her around.

His eyes were intense, stormy and wild. He clenched his jaw as though trying to contain the emotion she saw swirling in their depths, an emotion she’d rather not contemplate at the moment. "Is that what you believe we think of you as, Willa? A possession?"

"Isn’t that what I just said? I don’t think I stuttered." She tried to pull free of his grip, but only succeeded in making him tighten it.

"That is so not how either of us sees you," he said, his voice thick and husky as though he was trying to hold back what he was feeling, but not quite succeeding.

"Really? Then tell me how it is that you see me, because from where I’m standing that’s what it looks like."

"We see a woman who’s intelligent, vibrant, commanding, and sexy as hell. And we both just want the chance to hold onto you, even if only for a moment."

Willa tried again to pull free. "That’s all good and fine, Kee, but have you forgotten that I’m married to Schy. You shouldn’t be thinking about holding me. Ever."

New Release From Keith Publications LLC

Falling Star by Shay MacLean
Stop by and purchase a copy. 

Until May 31, 2012, those that do will receive Shooting Stars FREE…
just email with Shooting Stars in the Subject area. Make sure you use the correct email that you purchase the book with.
Author and Book Information

Shay MacLean is a multi-published author of Erotic Romance. Shay is a proud member of Romance Writers of America. She is also a member of several special interest chapters, Passionate Ink (of which she currently holds the position of Workshop Coordinator), RWA Online , Hearts Through History and Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal. Shay is also a member of Savvy Authors and Romance Divas. When Shay isn’t immersed in her writing projects she enjoys photography, graphic/web design in addition to spending time with her wonderful husband and four amazing children.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Why I Love Erotic Romance … it’s getting hot

The Romance Reviews Erotic Romance Madness Hop
Have you ever flipped through a book to get to the “good parts?” How about doing a “search” on your e-reader for keywords such as “cock?” The Romance Reviews put up the challenge in this Erotic Romance Madness Hop, and I’ve decided to go mad.

Participants can enter to win a few prizes:

  1. $10 gift certificate to Ravenous Romance
  2. .pdf copy of one of the books on my backlist
In order to enter, leave a comment with your email address. And, since it's my Blog Anniversary this weekend -- whoo-hoo, one year: Follower me on Twitter and Facebook (and let me know), and you will be entered into a separate contest for a $10 Ravenous gift card. (If you're already my friend, drop me a line and you'll be entered.)

When it comes to erotic romance, the sexier the better. Sure, readers want to imagine the writers living fabulous and passion-filled lives – and I’m not saying we don’t … But, we also like to get our kicks reading other fantasies, too!

Before I get into my one review, let me explain that I don’t think all erotic romance is hard-core. In fact, I enjoy the diversity of a fanciful historical with some tender lovemaking, science fiction that pushes the limits and paranormal that explores a sometimes darker side.

Back Door Lover, edited by Debra Hyde, stands out when it comes to taking a taboo subject and making it oh, so sexy. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Hyde in person, and talk about unassuming! You wouldn’t sit next to her on a train and think, “She writes erotic romance.” Then again, people often say the same thing to me.

From traditional M/F stories where the male takes the dominant role, to marriages that need a little pick-me-up and the wife brings home a strap-on, the anthology offers a variety of happy endings. (Pun totally intended.) Those that have read my debut erotic thriller Sex University: Physical Education know that anal play isn’t a new literary foray. I won’t highlight any particular story, simply because I’ve read, and enjoyed, them all.

Remember to visit other stops on the hop by clicking through on The Romance Reviews graphic above. And, you don’t need to do all the stops on one day. The hop runs through May 14 at 11:59 p.m. EST.

And, BTW, if you win … Back Door Lover is available via Ravenous Romance. Go ahead, download it. No one will tell!

** Stay tuned: Book 3, The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf: The Voodoo King is coming soon.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Getting Schooled on M/M with Daisy Harris

Daisy will award a $20 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

Do you like college boys? It’s a time of experimentation. Erotic romance author Daisy Harris takes readers on new excursions, whether it’s with her wet and wild Urban Merman, the Love-Bots or her retelling of M/M mythology. Now, it’s time to go back to school with College Boys, Men of Holsum College 1.

In the opening chapter, Harris writes the syllabus for a misaligned romance: Wanting a bit more privacy after the death of his mom, Chris moves into a single dorm in a new residency. He ends up neighbors with Peter, who is gay and the guy Chris woke cuddled against in a tent.

While Peter obviously sports a “straight-man crush” on Chris, the straight-man fights his own attraction:

“In clothes, Peter seemed skinny. But topless, he was strapped with ropey muscle that ridged along his sides. Maybe it was because he was mostly naked, but his walk was sort of a strut. And—was that a nipple piercing?”

Although Holsum is known as a small, liberal college, unfortunately, homophobia exists. Chris fights against it in the opening chapters and tackles it head-on later. Along the way, he questions his own sexuality but doesn’t dishonor Peter.

The minute Harris explains the thin, makeshift wall separating the two dorm rooms, I immediately waited for the scene when the wall comes down. She not quite that overt, but the story definitely pays out – in a subtle, growing romance to full-on physical contact. Harris delicately and artfully captures the intricacies within life and the hearts of readers with these college boys.


College Boys
[Men of Holsum College 1]
by Daisy Harris

When soccer star Chris moves next door to an openly-gay classmate, he doesn’t realize the wall between their rooms will be so thin he’ll hear his neighbor’s every move. But soon he and Peter become friends, and Chris is intrigued—imagining what happens on the other side of the wall.

Active on the Queer Student Council, Peter wishes he wasn’t so damn hot for his straight neighbor. He can’t tell if Chris is flirting or in denial or what, but Chris’ innocent overtures lure Peter into flirtation that throws his world into chaos. Peter doesn’t want to date a closet case, but he desperately, passionately wants Chris.

Soon Chris must choose whether to run away from his new feelings or embrace a relationship with the guy he loves. And Peter must decide if he can give his heart to a guy who hasn’t yet figured it all out.


Peter listened to the sound of Chris stomping around next door but couldn’t figure out if Chris was trying to be loud for some reason or if he was drunk. “Hey, Chris.” Peter had been going out of his way to be extra friendly ever since their unfortunate date. Of course it hadn’t really been a date—Peter had been completely delusional thinking that it was. But regardless, their first attempt to interact outside of their connected room had been a disaster, and Peter had been trying ever since to feel back on his footing.

“Heya Pete!” The volume and cadence of Chris’s voice told Peter that he indeed was drunk. “Have a good night?”

Peter looked down at his chemistry textbook, open on his bed. He cursed the professor who had set the midterm for Friday. Most classes’ midterms had been earlier in the week, and the entire campus seemed to have started their post-test celebrations early. “Just cramming for the test tomorrow.”

“Aw, man. Forgot about that. Sucks you still have one left.”

“Yeah.” Peter closed the book and set it aside. His vision had gone blurry from hours of staring at diagrams.

“You should blow off some steam,” Chris said through the wall. His voice was different—quieter and more tentative.

Peter wasn’t sure what he meant, so he just answered, “Yeah, I’ve got a couple parties lined up for tomorrow night.”

From next door, Peter heard some moving around and then the sound of Chris’s door opening. Still, Chris’s knock startled him and Peter looked up. “Yeah? Come on in.”

He knew it was Chris, but that didn’t stop Peter from feeling lightheaded when he saw the other boy in his doorway. A red blush striped Chris’s cheeks, but Peter couldn’t tell if it was from the cold outside or if he was embarrassed. His blond hair seemed to sparkle under the hallway lights.

“Can I come in?”

Peter blinked. “Uh, sure.” He piled his books and papers onto the floor and shuffled to the far end of the bed. The only other place to sit was a chair, and Peter’s pulse raced as he wondered whether Chris would chose the seat or flop down on his mattress.

He almost swallowed his tongue when Chris did the latter, bouncing like a happy Labrador onto Peter’s bed. Peter could smell the beer and sweat on him and under that the rich masculine scent Chris always left behind in the showers.

“So, you wanna watch porn tonight?” Chris gestured over to Peter’s laptop sitting on his shelf. He stretched out, leaning back on Peter’s throw pillows as if he hadn’t just suggested something insane.

“Um…” Peter wasn’t sure how to respond. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in case he was somehow misinterpreting Chris’s suggestion. “Really?”

“Man, you should see your face.” Chris slapped his arm in that mock-fighting way he had in the car. He looked at Peter with his big, blue eyes—all innocence and temptation. “C’mon, it’s no big deal.”

Peter tried to cover his panic with a snicker. “It’s not every day someone asks me on a porn date.” He hoped Chris was too wasted to hear his voice tremble. Ever since Chris’ birthday a couple weeks back, his soccer buddies had been pushing him to drink past his limit. Normally, it pissed Peter off, but that night he was grateful Chris probably wouldn’t remember. “I should have bought you a corsage.”

“Dumbass.” Chris socked him in the arm again, though this time it was less of a slap and more of a stroke. He smiled in that good-natured, country-boy way of his. “I used to watch it with my old roommates all the time.”

Peter smirked. “How very heterosexual of you.”

Chris ignored his snide remark and used his bare foot to point at the laptop, as if he was too lazy to get out of Peter’s bed. “Load it up, man. I want to be shocked and awed.”

“Fine.” Peter stood just far enough to reach for his computer. He tried to distance himself emotionally from what was going on, even though his cock was already hard and his skin felt so tingly he worried he’d climb onto Chris’s lap.

“So, do you have a favorite site or something?” Chris curled up to cross-legged, his eyes intent on the screen. He bit his nail, looking sexy as hell—excited and curious.

God. Peter thought he was going to burst into flames. He wished he were drunk, too. Then he’d have an excuse to lean in and kiss Chris’s damp, pink lips. Peter could touch him, maybe fondle him or offer a blow job. And if Chris turned him down, he could blame it on the alcohol the next day. But unfortunately, Peter was stone-cold sober and too much of a chicken anyway. “Yeah, there are a few I like.” He tried to sound nonchalant, though his hand shook as he struggled to use the touch screen. “Some can be pretty gross.”

He opened a site that he thought wouldn’t freak Chris out too badly. The guys were clean-cut and young. The lighting was good. Everyone used condoms. “So, um…What do you wanna watch?”

Peter couldn’t look at Chris as he waited for the answer. He kept his eyes glued to the screen as if the thumbnail pictures were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen. But he listened with every fiber of his being for what Chris would reply.

“Uh…what do you mean?”

Confused, Peter turned his head to find Chris only inches from his face. Chris was looking at the computer, his body lined up with Peter’s but not touching. And unlike Peter, who had only pretended to be riveted to the screen, Chris was staring at the images with wide eyes, like he was terrified and fascinated all at once.

About Daisy Harris

Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn’t sure if she writes erotica. Her paranormal romances start out innocently enough. However, her characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris’s dismay, the sex tends to get completely out of hand.

 If you like science-y subplots, fantastical creatures, and red-hot chemistry, you’ll love Daisy Harris.