​“Hey.”

David turned to look at a figure sitting nearby. He hadn’t seen the man from behind Sare, but he realized there was actually a man sitting there, with a good couple of shot glasses scattered around in front of him.

The strange, tipsy, borderline drunk man looked rather handsome. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt with one of the buttons unbuttoned, and his hair was mussed, though David could see that he’d put some hair product of some kind in his dark, wavy, cocoa brown-colored hair.

He had the aquiline features of one of those angel statues David had seen. So handsome, if the drunk hadn’t looked like he was in repose. David’s cock even had a little twitch of a response, though he felt a little ashamed of that.

David’s first thoughts shouldn’t have been that he wanted to fuck a stranger in a bar, no matter that it was a status quo.

Overall, the stranger looked a little disheveled and stressed, but there weren’t any alarm bells ringing in David’s mind at first glance of him. In fact, if it weren’t for the grimace on the guy’s face, David might have been a stammering mess in the stranger’s proximity. He was never very good at talking to attractive people.

If the man beside him hadn’t looked like he’d been drinking to forget something painful, David would have tried to screw his courage to the sticking place—Shakespeare pun intended—and maybe he’d have tried to ask the stranger out on a date. He was already out, why not try to be courageous, right? Forget the fact that he didn’t have a home, or work!

Self-preservation told him not to do that, though. Years of having to hide his sexuality and his entire identity tended to do that.

“Hello,” David replied, and politely he added, “May I help you?”

“What you said back there, about leaving home,” the stranger asked. “Was any of that true?”

David blinked.

“Yes, that was all true,” he replied. “I figure I might stay at a motel for a couple of nights while I try to figure my situation out.”

“Do you want a place to live? I have an extra unit available in my building. I bought the entire place recently, so it’s barebones as shit, but we can work something out if you’re interested,” the man said, taking a swig of another shot of hard liquor.

“Is there a catch?” David asked, his voice clearly a little incredulous. He knew not to expect handouts or too much charity in the big city, but…was there something about his face that made people want to go out of their way to help him? Maybe it was just something about being gay? Or was this one of those serendipitous moments in time where things were just aligning incredibly perfectly?

“No catch, except for the fact that I only have an old mattress and some older stuff I’d much rather give to a guy who knows what he wants out of life, and I need a tenant anyway. There’s a lot of space I don’t need in my building,” the man replied. “I’m Jackson, by the way. Call me Jack.”

“I’m David Young. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jack grinned. “Boy, you’re real polite, aren’t you? It’s nice to meet you, David Young.”

David felt some heat in his cheeks at that statement. “It’s just how I was raised.”

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“I’m married to a werewolf,” Cole Morgan said to his reflection with a slightly giddy laugh. The champagne had made him feel nice and relaxed. He took his black-framed glasses off his face and cleaned the lenses with a tissue.

Once his glasses were back on, he looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and frowned. His black suit had a little bit of frosting on the lapel from where Evan had insisted on feeding him a slice of wedding cake. For once, Cole couldn’t be blamed for being a mess. This was all Evan’s fault.

He grabbed some more tissues and wet them before rubbing at the white, creamy glob.

Well, he thought to himself. At least I looked good for the wedding.

He smiled as he thought about the cake he had just cut with his new husband. It had been a pretty simple wedding cake, but the two little grooms on top was something Cole was going to keep forever. He might even display them somewhere in the apartment.

Deciding that his suit was as good as it was going to be, and focusing on the fact that he wouldn’t be wearing it for much longer, Cole left the bathroom and went back out to the private dining room of the hotel they were staying in.

It was typical of Evan to make sure they had a dining room to themselves, even though it was just the three of them. Neither of them had wanted a big wedding. Okay, it was mostly Cole who didn’t want one, but Evan had been happy to go along with it.

The only person he had truly wanted with him was Joey, his little brother. Well, in an ideal world he would have invited his best friend, Naomi, as well, but she was married to Evan’s cousin, Jared, and if they invited him and not the rest of the West family, there would be hell to pay. Not that there wouldn’t be already.

“Joey’s going to eat this entire cake if you don’t stop him,” Evan said as Cole walked back into the small dining room to join them.

Joey, although nearly sixteen, had frosting on his cheeks like a little boy who couldn’t control himself when faced with dessert. Cole couldn’t resist grabbing his phone and taking a photo of his brother to be used as blackmail material at a later date. Joey just grinned at him with a mouthful of cake, not embarrassed one bit.

“Hey, there’s only three of us, and it’s a whole cake. Do you want it to go to waste?” Joey said. “That’s environmentally irresponsible.”

He had a point. It might have seemed strange to most people, that his wedding had only consisted of the three of them, but to Cole it was perfect. Evan’s grandpa had asked Evan to go to London to look at a hotel he was thinking of buying. It had seemed like a good opportunity to elope. No one had known what they were going to do while over there, except for Joey. Somehow the kid had managed to keep a secret for weeks.

After looking at venues and not finding anywhere that felt right to them, Cole, while planning some sightseeing for them, finally found out that people could get married on The London Eye. It had basically been like getting married on a fancy Ferris wheel. They had bought the wedding package, which gave them their own pod. It had been decorated with cream rose garlands and fairy lights, and had champagne and hors d’oeuvres waiting for them. The best part, though, was that they had booked it for sunset. Getting married while looking out over London as the late evening sun lit it all up in a pinkish glow was breathtaking.

Evan leaned back in his chair, his white shirt stretched over his firm chest beneath his suit jacket. He put his arm along the back of Cole’s chair and reached in to kiss the side of his head.

“Sorry about your jacket.”

“No, you’re not,” Cole said.

“No, I’m not,” Evan replied with a grin.

“Anyway,” Joey said, coughing into his fist as he stood. “Seeing as I’m kind of the best man...to both of you, I’d like to say a couple of things.”

Cole sat back against Evan’s arm and grabbed his glass of champagne. He hadn’t expected Joey to say anything, but he was curious as to where this would go.

Joey had a champagne flute filled with orange juice that he held up. He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a folded up piece of paper.

“Okay, so first, I want to thank you guys for bringing me with you to London. This trip has been amazing. Also, I want you both to know how much it means to me that out of all the people in your lives, I’m the one person you didn’t want to get married without.”

Cole had half been expecting to be on the receiving end of a roast, so hearing his brother being so sincere actually made Cole feel quite emotional.

“Cole, you and I haven’t always been close,” Joey continued. “It took an awful thing to make us remember that we’re family and that we’ll always be there for each other, no matter what. Today, I feel really lucky because I never really expected to have a relationship with my brother, and now I get to have two.”
​

Wrong place, right time.
​
Carter O’Conner exemplifies the term wrong place, wrong time when he gets between a hitman and that hitman’s prey. Sure he’s the next to die, he steels himself, refusing to give the killer the satisfaction of seeing his fear, even though he’s shaking like a leaf on the inside.
 
Antony Rosetta can’t ignore the man’s interesting reaction. Accustomed to begging and pleading, he respects the male escort’s strength… and struggles to forget the man after he walks away. As the weeks pass, his fantasies propel him to search for Carter and see what makes the man tick.
 
Carter doesn’t want to head out on another assignment but, after weeks of denial, he’s nowhere closer to paying his tuition bill. Accepting the address from his handler, he winds up before the hitman, afraid he’ll face death after all. Instead, he confronts a passion too much for him to handle.
 
Can these two broken men become whole in each other’s arms?
 
Warnings: MM, Gay, Anal Sex, Bondage, Paddling, Spanking, BDSM, Forced Seduction, Exhibitionism, and Extreme Scenes of Violence and Murder
 
BUY HERE!

Hello,
One way to promote and increase your audience is to be hosted on a blog of another author, or reviewer. I've done this, and I feel it's only right to share the experience and provide the same opportunity with others. 

On that note, I've got a special treat for everyone! Over the next weeks I'm going to be hosting a new author every other day, starting tomorrow. The line up will include each author's newest release. So, definitely stay tuned and check in over the next couple days for some awesome writers who write sizzling hot romance, both MM and MF.

Schedule:
Sunday 12th: Kel Ex
Tuesday 14th: Jane Wallace-Knight
Thursday 16th: Ashley Malkin
Saturday 18th: Maggie Walsh
Monday 20th: Frey Ortega
Wednesday 22nd: Shea Balik

​Chris was stunned. At least that’s what it looked like, as he just stared at Steven. “I just want to be close to you even when we’re apart.”

That was not what Steven wanted to hear. “Then why leave?” Oh stars, he didn’t want this, but he couldn’t stop it. Not now. “Why are you leaving? If you want to be close to me, stay with me!”

The tears finally fell, and Steven felt the shame of them sting deep. Still, he couldn’t hold back now that he was going. Chris had opened something, and Steven couldn’t figure out how to close it.

“Don’t leave me,” Steven begged. “I-I-I lo—” Chris kissed him hard, cutting him off. Steven cried as he clung to Chris. He didn’t want it to end like this. He’d planned to see Chris off at the hangar with a smile and a gentle parting kiss, not this rough, hungry claiming.

“Don’t say it,” Chris pleaded, parting from Steven and resting their foreheads together. “I’m sorry, Steven. My selfishness is hurting you, so please don’t say it. I don’t deserve those words.”

Steven cried harder as he collapsed against Chris’s chest, his fists bunched in his shirt. “I hate you,” he said, but it was a lie. “I hate you. I hate you!”

Chris wrapped his strong arms around Steven, and Steven could almost swear he felt tears fall on his head, but he ignored them. This hurt, and it wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t this work for them?

“You have me, even if I’m not here,” Chris whispered before lifting Steven’s face and kissing him again.

Whimpering, Steven tried to pull Chris closer, but he seemed intent on keeping this kiss shallow. Steven knew it—this was it. Chris was saying good-bye. When they parted here, he would leave and Steven could do nothing to stop him.

Slowly, Chris stepped back, and Steven wanted to scream at the love he saw shining back at him in those steely eyes. “Thanks for the memories, kitten.”

The second the door closed behind Chris, Steven fell to the floor, sobbing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried like this. Probably when his father beat him for the first time. No, this hurt worse. It was as if his heart were being ripped from his chest.