Sunday, July 29, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday

I thought I'd do six sentences from my story Bigger Briefs:  Reluctant Romance

Chester had had enough of Dr. Waters. The nerve of that man, making a pass at him.  It didn’t matter how handsome the blond was, he wasn’t interested in him or any other man.  After he’d gotten out of that rotten relationship with Derrick, he’d sworn off men.

He was a party of one and he was going to stay that way.

He was going to be professional and tell him that too, the next time he saw him.

and all romance 

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Wednesday Briefs

Sorry about not writing something about their wedding,  I will be doing that in a future installment.

This week's prompts are:

 “Pushing the envelope...”    or the alternate prompts are: use: flat tire, cell phone, a type of liquid   or “You want me to do what?”  or use: have something to do with food in the story   or use: ceiling fan, candle, dead plant
What would you do for love?  How far would you go to please the person you loved most in this world?     Even the little things count, as you'll see in my story.

I Will Do Anything For Love- by Lily Sawyer

“You want me to do what?”  Tom asked his partner, now husband.   Tom knew that one of the most important things for a long-term relationship was compromise, and being a good listener and, sometimes, having to do things with your significant other that make absolutely no sense at all.

“I want you to come to Elizabeth’s funeral.”

“Ben, I love you, you know I’ll do anything for you.  But this, honey? I just don’t know.”

Ben’s lips grew grim; the smile… the laughter… those kissable lips took on a different persona, one Tom didn’t like.  One he knew put him in a very difficult situation. One he didn’t want to go to—a fight.  He and Ben had fights like all couples, but they were usually rare and far between.   They’d gotten to know each other so well that they finished each other’s sentences.

“Tom, I don’t ask for much. You know how much Elizabeth meant to me.  I’ve known her for two years. It was a very quick end.  I’d like you to be there by my side.”

“But Ben…”

“If you really love me you’ll be there. The ceremony starts in an hour. “   That said, Ben walked out of the kitchen. Tom made a cup of coffee, using one of those Keurig machines, to calm his nerves.  Right now, he wished he were at the firehouse instead of here, having to go through something he really wanted no part of.  But this wasn’t just anyone ,this was Ben—the man he’d go to Hell and back for. 

An hour passed and he went out to the backyard where Ben was already standing in their garden.  Tom stood next to him.

Ben looked at him, a smile on his face and tears in his eyes.  “Thanks, Tom, you don’t know what this means to me. I know Elizabeth is just a plant, a dead plant. But you know they all mean a lot to me. She was such a beautiful rose bush, gave food to so many bees and other insects, and gave me a lot of joy.” 

“I know. It’s a shame the aphids got her.” Tom remembered when Ben brought home the pink rose bush; it was called Queen Elizabeth, after the British monarch. Ben loved gardening; they had a vegetable garden in one part of the backyard. Which was why they rarely had to go to the produce department in the grocery store.  They had a flower garden in the back and front yards that made the neighbors jealous.  Tom had taken a photo of it and secretly sent it in to an online contest. 

Ben said a few words over the shriveled-up remains of Elizabeth. The aphids weren’t the only things that attacked poor Elizabeth; there were other pests that did the beautiful plant in. Tom remembered getting a phone call at work from Ben, telling him about the sick plant. Ben did everything he could, but nothing worked. So now they stood in front of their gas BBQ, about to reduce Elizabeth to ashes. 

Ben said a few words and Tom lit the BBQ up. He put his arm around Ben’s shoulder and held him close. They watched the cut-up rose bush become engulfed in flames, reduced to ashes. Ben scattered those ashes around the flower garden.

Ben was bummed for a bit, but he didn’t lose sight that they were plants and sometimes plants died. He put his heart and soul into that garden, and when a plant died it affected him.

A few weeks passed and Tom came home from a day of errands. Ben was outside, tending to the vegetable garden. He’d picked some string beans and peppers and said he was going to make some stuffed peppers for dinner that evening.

“Hi hon, I’m back.”

Ben looked up from the peppers he’d been picking and rushed over to envelope his man in a hug and kisses.

“Mm, I should go away more often if this is the reception I’m getting.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” It didn’t matter if they were away from each other for days, like when Tom had to do his time at the fire station, or for a few hours like today—they always missed one another.   “I got a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Ben’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.  “What, what did you get for me?”  He acted like a little kid on Christmas morning.  

“Now hold on, let me get it out of the backseat of my car.” He went out to his Honda Accord and pulled out his surprise.  He turned around and noticed Ben had followed him from around the back of the house, through the side gate to the driveway.    

“Oh Tom!” Ben’s right hand went to his chest.  “Did you get that for me?”

Tom held a rose bush in his hands. It was cherry pink; he’d picked it up at the local garden center.  “I asked the guy at the garden place. These are knock-out roses. They’re very disease and drought resistant.  I figured after what happened to Elizabeth you wouldn’t…”  Tom never got the rest of his words out; his lips were being smothered by Ben’s.

“I love you, Tom, have I told you that?”

“Yes, but I never get tired of hearing it.”  Tom smiled as he returned Ben’s kisses.  He saved the plant from being crushed by holding it away from him.

“Well, I’m going to tell you that so many times I’ll get into the Guinness Book of World Records.”

“Not if I get in there before you.  I love you too.”

“I love you more.”

“No, I love you more.” 

“Hey, how about we set the record together?”   Ben suggested.    


My fellow flashers

Nephylim     m/m
MA Church     m/m
Elyzabeth VaLey      m/f
Tali      m/m
Julie Lynn Hayes m/m


Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Welcome guest author Sarah McNeal

I'd like to welcome guest author Sarah McNeal.  Let's find out more about her and her books.

My name is Sarah J. McNeal. I write romance stories in several genres: paranormal, time travel, historical and contemporary.  I have written for several publishers including New Concepts Publishing, Amira Press and, at present, Publishing by Rebecca Vickery and their Western Trail Blazer line.
I live in Charlotte, North Carolina with my four-legged children, Lily (my Golden Retriever) and Liberty, a six pound cat who rules us all. Both of my children are rescue pets.
My new release, Heart Song, is a short story about a man struggling with breast cancer. Originally, I wrote Heart Song for a breast cancer anthology but the group fell into disarray and the project was abandoned. After a few years, I decided to revamp the story and add some romance.
It wasn’t easy to write a story about a man whose life is on the line and he wrestles with his feelings about having what is widely considered a woman’s disease. I researched like crazy to get the facts about breast cancer and men. I was astounded to learn that 50 % of men who contract breast cancer die from it. That makes it a particularly deadly disease for men. My hero, Gideon, struggles with his self-esteem and the fear that he may not survive. His friends try to joke about the type of cancer he has, his self-absorbed girlfriend leaves him and Gideon finds his only support comes from his dead father’s spirit and someone he just met.

E-Book for 99 cents
 Facing death might change Gideon’s life.
Gideon thought he had the perfect life as a musician with a beautiful model as his girlfriend, until he was diagnosed with breast cancer.
Ashamed and afraid he may die, Gideon hits bottom when his girlfriend dumps him for a real man.
Hope comes in the form of his father’s ghost and a person he has just met. Can he beat the odds and survive? And if he does, can he ever find happiness again?
It’s not as if he expected her to stay through his illness. That would have been uncharacteristic of Sylvia. Nevertheless, her words stung him like acid rain. George Montif was mature alright, twenty years her senior, but he had wealth and power; a ruthless business man if ever there was one. Maybe they deserved each other. After he read the letter, he grabbed the nearest chair and slumped into it, his strength gone. With his eyes closed, he leaned his head back against the warm wood of his mother’s rocking chair. The chair was one of the things of hers he had kept and treasured. It was her favorite chair. Gideon sucked in a deep breath then blew it out slowly sorting out what had become of his life. Even though the wound on his chest was healing and the incision had begun to pale into a pink line, on the inside, he felt broken.
He had only himself to blame. Choosing a woman like Sylvia, beautiful, sexy, and narcissistic had proved ego boosting but emotionally exhausting. Every day her drama filled the house with tears or anger. A broken nail led to wailing that life wasn’t fair. A missed opportunity for a botox treatment led to tears and hysteria. She was, however, the perfect trophy girlfriend. Her perfect figure and her Elisabeth Taylor beauty perked up every social event. Envious males gathered around her at parties and wished they were Gideon with this exciting woman on his arm. If they only knew. A woman like that may be a great lover, a stimulating sexual partner in bed, but she wasn’t much of a friend and certainly no companion or partner.  First sign of trouble and she skedaddled into the arms of another man. He had chosen Sylvia for all the wrong reasons. Maybe he really wasn’t good enough.  He sure wasn’t a good judge of character. He felt about as empty as his house.
Buy Links:
Other Books by Sarah McNeal:

THE VIOLIN (time travel/historical): E-Book or Paperback
Publishing by Rebecca Vickery
Loneliness...Mystery...A step through time
Buy Links:

HARMONICA JOE’S RELUCTANT BRIDE (time travel/western/paranormal elements):
E-Book or Paperback
Western Trail Blazer
A haunted house, a trunk and a date with destiny.
Buy Links:
Western Trail Blazer

FOR LOVE OF BANJO (historical western/sequel to Harmonica Joe’s Reluctant Bride)
E-Book or Paperback
Western Trail Blazer
Deceit stands between Banjo Wilding’s love for Maggie O’Leary and his search for the father he never knew.
Buy Links:
Lulu :
Monkey Bars :

The Christmas 2012 Anthology: Gifts From The Afterlife
E-Book or Paperback
Victory Tales Press
How dark must it get before Lydia sees the light?
Buy Links:
Smashwords Ebook
Lulu Ebook :
Barns and Noble:
Places where you can find me:
Sarah’s Provocative Ponderings:
My website blog: Sarah McNeal

Monday, July 23, 2012

Welcome guest author Kelli A. Wilkins

I'd like to welcome Kelli A. Wilkins as my guest today.  

Kelli A. Wilkins – Romance Author

1. How long have you been writing?

I started writing short stories in high school. After college, I took a Commercial Writers Program and read some of my stories in class. At the time, I was writing short horror fiction. Everyone liked them and encouraged me to submit them for publication. One day I read a short romance in a magazine and said “I can write that.” So I did. A few months later, I sold my first “10-Minute Love Story” to the Sun – and from there I was hooked.

My erotic romance writing career began with a contest. Amber Quill Press was running a contest to find authors. I submitted three romance novellas, and they contracted me for all three! At the time, I was writing “traditional” (aka not-so-spicy) romances, but I had never written an erotic romance. In keeping with my knack for writing in different genres, I submitted stories in three different romance categories. A Most Unusual Princess is a fantasy, The Dark Lord is a gothic historical, and The Sexy Stranger is a contemporary.

After these novellas were released, I kept writing erotic romances. A Most Unusual Princess spawned two sequels, Dalton’s Temptation and The Pauper Prince. Although I’m drawn to historical/fantasy settings, if I get a great idea for a story I’ll go with it, regardless of the genre. To date, I’ve had 14 erotic romances published with Amber Quill Press.

2. What is your favorite genre to write?

I write in almost every romance genre: historical, fantasy, paranormal, gay, and contemporary. So I’m pretty comfortable switching genres as the characters and plots dictate. Changing from one genre to another lets me explore different characters, plots, settings and writing styles. I’m still writing and publishing short horror fiction, too.  (And one day I’ll write a full-length horror novel.)

3. What are you working on now?

Right now I’m editing a historical set in Pennsylvania Colony. It’s a spicy blend of romance and mystery.

4. When you start a new story do you begin with a character or plot?

Most of my books begin with a blend – I have an idea for the plot and one main character, then I have to dig deep to find the rest of the characters. A Perfect Match and Trust with Hearts (contemporaries) both began with the whole plot outlined in my head. A Midsummer Night’s Delights and A Most Unusual Princess (historical/fantasies) started off with the main characters. My paranormals, Beauty & the Bigfoot and Confessions of a Vampire’s Lover sprung from “what if…” ideas. “What if a cryptozoologist’s daughter fell in love with Bigfoot?” And “What if a vampire fell in love at the beach?” When I get an idea for a story, I just run with it and see where it leads me.

5. Tell us about your latest/upcoming release. What inspired it?

Right now I have two new books hitting the electronic shelves. My second gay romance, Killer in Wolf’s Clothing was published on July 22 by Amber Quill Press. This erotic contemporary blends suspense with the paranormal. Here’s a brief summary:

Killer in Wolf’s Clothing

A super aggressive Alpha male, a serial killer, and a visit to a kinky sex club…What has Larry gotten himself into?

When Larry learns that his boyfriend Greg changes into another man during the full moon, he has a hard time accepting it—until he meets Deke, Greg’s alternate Alpha personality.

Deke doesn’t play nice and has no time for games. He only wants two things—to get laid and to get revenge against the arsonist who murdered his friends. Finally free from Greg’s restraints, Deke is ready for action, and Larry is more than willing to submit to Deke’s needs.

Together, Larry and Deke set out to find the killer. Their hunt takes them to an all-night Alpha sex club where things heat up for the two of them. But when Larry unwittingly falls into the clutches of the murderer, it’s up to Deke—and Greg—to save him before it’s too late.

The book link is:

My first romance with Medallion Press, The Viking’s Witch, will be released on August 1, 2012. Set in Celtic Scotland, this historical with paranormal elements will be available in electronic formats. Here’s a summary:

Scotland, 803 A.D.

About to be burned at the stake by her fellow villagers, Odaria does what any betrayed witch facing certain death would do. She calls down a curse. Within seconds, rampaging Norsemen raid the village, capturing everyone except her.

But her reprieve is short-lived, and Odaria lands in the clutches of the Norse leader Rothgar. Can she remain true to herself and fight her growing attraction to this domineering man, or will she fall under his influence and be used for his ambitions?

After Rothgar witnesses Odaria’s powers firsthand, he strikes a bargain with her. The raven-haired beauty will use her magical abilities to help him with his quest in exchange for safe passage off the isle. But can this cunning woman be trusted, or is she using him to exact vengeance on her village?

Together they must fight bloodthirsty villagers, battle a mutinous band of Norsemen, find a missing Norse ship, and learn to trust each other . . . before time is up.

The link is:

As you can see, both books are very different! Killer in Wolf’s Clothing is an erotic gay paranormal, and The Viking’s Witch is more along the lines of a traditional historical. I loved writing both books and they are a good example of how my writing styles, plots, and characters can vary from one genre to the next.

Thanks for letting me share some insight with everyone. I welcome feedback, questions, and comments from readers and invite everyone to visit my website to learn more about my writings.

Here’s a list of where to find me on the web:

Happy Reading,


Sunday, July 22, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday

I decided to do my six from my book "Somebody to Love"

Buy Link

Sam Warner is busy working in his flower shop creating beautiful arrangements to celebrate all the happy moments in his customer's lives. He only wished he had something joyful to celebrate.
He was in a relationship until the day he came home to an empty apartment and a 'Dear John' letter. Hurt and alone he decides he doesn't want to be in another relationship ever again. But fate has stepped in and he meets Matt Doyle, the bartender at a local bar.
Can Sam give love a second chance?

Six Sentences:

.” Matt got up, shut off the TV and offered Sam his hand and led them to the bedroom.

Matt started to undress and as Sam watched him pull his shirt off, exposing a very well defined chest.  “Boy you must work out.” He felt himself harden. When Matt reached for the zipper of his pants, Sam stopped him. “Let me.”

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Welcome guest author Elysa Hendricks

It is my pleasure to welcome Elysa Hendricks to my blog.  Let's find out more about her and her book "The  Sword and the Pen."

1-How long have you been writing?
Much longer than I care to admit, but I will say it's been decades. Yes, I started writing before I was born. :-)
2-What is your favorite genre to write?
Depends on my mood that day. Some days I crave the immediacy of a  fast-paced contemporary, others I want to dig into the past and sometimes I need to explore the possibilities of the future or build a fantasy world. The characters and the story determine which romance sub-genre they need to be set in. I'm just the conduit. Too bad I can't teach my characters to type.
3-What are you working on now?
I have two projects in the works. One is a humorous contemporary paranormal romance featuring a matchmaking cat. The other is a jungle adventure romance with a small town school teacher and a mercenary caught up in the South American revolution.
4-When you start a new story do you begin with a character or plot?
Sometimes the story starts with a character, but usually I'm just presented with a snapshot of something that's happening and then I have to figure out the who, what, why, where, when and what if's of the story.
5- Tell us about your latest/upcoming release. What inspired it?
My latest release is a contemporary fantasy THE SWORD AND THE PEN. This story was inspired by a Twilight Zone episode A World Of His Own. What would happen if you could bring your fantasies to life? If you're interested you can watch the episode on YouTube.
Here are the links: 
Or for a more romantic version check out THE SWORD AND THE PEN.
Elysa Hendricks
"The Sword and the Pen"
It was time. After penning ten popular sword-and-sorcery novels, Brandon Alexander Davis was ready to move on. Ready to stop hiding in his fictional world. Ready to start living a real life. There was just one problem: as he plotted the noble death of Serilda D'Lar, his fictional creation, complete with mile-long sword, skimpy leather outfit and badass attitude, appeared in his study.
Was she nothing more than a crazy fan, or had Brandon finally cracked?
This warrior woman whom he knew so well, so strong yet vulnerable, was both fantasy and reality. She was an invitation to rediscover all he once knew--that life is an incredible, magical journey and, for love, any man can be a hero.



At first Brandon thought the shriek was an electronic whine that came from his computer. Panic threatened. When was the last time he'd backed up his files? It had been during that bad electrical storm three months ago when he'd almost lost everything, the same time his writing troubles began. Fortunately the freak power surge from a lightning strike only fried his monitor; his CPU hadn't been harmed. He should have learned from the experience, but writer's block had driven him past rational thought. The idea of losing what little work he'd managed to accomplish these last few weeks made him choke in fear. He scrambled to hit Save.

"Hell, no! Roark doesn't deserve a chance to defend himself. And even if he did, I'm not stupid enough to give him the opportunity to skewer me. That's something Donoval the Honorable would do."

At the sound of the familiar yet condemning voice behind him, Brandon whirled. He slipped off his chair and landed hard on his tailbone. Pain shot up his spine and blurred his vision.

"What?  How did you get in here? And who the hell are you?" He stared up at the woman and gulped. The sword in her hand pointed straight at his heart.

"You know damned well who I am."

The woman didn't sound happy-- and didn't look sane. She loomed over him. Her attire, a short, tight leather skirt, a leather bra, and knee-high boots left a lot of skin exposed to his view. The smell of leather, fresh air and warm woman teased his nostrils.

"What are you?" She poked him in the arm with the tip of her sword.

"Ow!" He scooted back, nearly under his desk.

"Warrior? Priest? Sorcerer?" She crouched down to rest on her heels, and stared at him. The position put her full breasts nearly in his face. "Definitely not a warrior." She pinched his arm. "You have muscle, but not enough to wield a sword in battle. No courage, either. Priest? Unlikely. They don't fear the sword. Only their god makes them cower.  Wizard? Perhaps, but not one of any power, or else I'd be at your feet. So…you're the wizard's assistant most likely." As if satisfied with her conclusion, she rose to her feet.

"Get up. I'll not harm you. I wish to speak to your master. He and I have business to discuss."

Brandon eyed the woman warily. Though her speech and clothing were odd, she sounded and looked extremely familiar. Why? Was she a crazy fan he'd somehow communicated with before?

To be honest, she bore a striking resemblance to Serilda, if shorter. She was five feet seven or eight inches, rather than six feet, and she was less buxom and had softer features than the character he'd ultimately developed. Actually, this woman was more like how he'd envisioned Serilda originally, when he'd introduced her in Donoval's second book: an extremely feminine woman forced to survive in a harsh world by denying her nature. Hillary had convinced him that in her own books Serilda needed to be stronger and have more sex appeal, hence the height and the bigger chest. The change hadn't sat well with him, but the public-- men and women-- loved her, and the books had hit all the bestseller lists. As a result, he had a thriving series, a pending movie deal and cash in his once empty bank account. Success was hard to argue with.

Despite the trampy clothing and hard scowl, she was attractive. Short reddish blonde curls framed an elfin face. Dark lashes fringed large, cat-like green eyes. Sun-kissed skin covered high cheekbones, and her lips, though currently set in a hard line, were full and red.

"I said get up!" She grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet.

He was surprised that, when he stood, he topped her by a good six inches and probably outweighed her by sixty pounds. That size difference gave him a bit of confidence, but the nasty-looking sword she held with such self-assurance negated it. One could never trust the actions of a crazy person.

"Who are you?" She looked him up and down then seemed to dismiss him.

He pulled himself to his full height and stared down at her. "Brandon Alexander Davis. This is my home."

Unimpressed, she laughed. "Brandon? What kind of name is that? Bran is what I eat to ease my bowels."

Heat crept up Brandon's neck. Being compared to a laxative made him angry, which helped push fear away. "Who the hell are you? And what are you doing here in that ridiculous costume?"

"Who I am and" -- she paused, and two spots of color stained her cheeks-- "what I wear is a matter I will discuss with your master. Where is he? Has he run to hide from me? It will do him no good. I'm determined to find him and solve this."

"I don't have a master. I live here alone." Damn! Why had he told her that? He eased back from the lunatic toward the phone. Could he hit speed dial for 911 before she skewered him? Then what? Even if he succeeded, it would take the police a good fifteen to twenty minutes to reach his isolated home. Could he wrest the sword away from her before then?

His size would be an advantage, but even standing at ease, the woman radiated strength and skill. The odds seemed against him. To win he'd have to hit her-- hard-- and he doubted he could bring himself to do so. The lessons of chivalry his grandmother had taught were too deeply ingrained. In that way, he and Donoval were of one mind. No matter how greatly provoked, men didn't hit women.

Although, the thought of wrestling with this woman was appealing.

"No master? Do not lie to me." The lunatic's fingers flexed around the hilt of her sword.
"Why would I lie?" he snapped. "It's obvious your beef is with someone else. If I knew who and where he was, why would I protect him?"

"Because you're a coward. A powerful sorcerer inspires fear if not loyalty in his minions. But you should fear me more than him," she warned.

"There is no him! I'm the only one here. And I'm not a coward." Being called one triggered something inside him. Having phobias about crowds, insects and small furry animals didn't make him a coward. Not really.

She gave him a thoughtful look. "Is it possible? Are you the one?"

"The one what?"

She ignored his question and studied him. Her intense perusal made him squirm.
"Why didn't I see the resemblance?" she murmured.

"What resemblance?" He didn't like the turn of this conversation. Come to think of it, he hadn't liked the original direction, either.

"To Donoval. You are him-- in form at least." A bit of fear crossed her features, though anger quickly erased it. "I'm loath to believe it, but you are the wizard. Did you construct me so you could play God in my world? Does it give you pleasure to toy with me?"

"What the hell are you talking about? Play God? I'm just a writer trying to make a living. I write stories for people to read and enjoy. It's just entertainment."

Elysa Hendricks is 5'6" tall. She has curly hair and brown eyes. She's an author, a wife, a mother and a daughter. Everything else is subject to change without notice. She loves hearing from readers and other authors.
Buy Link:


Thursday, July 19, 2012

Welcome guest author LC Chase

1-How long have you been writing?

Pretty much always. I did some creative writing through school, then later wrote non-fiction articles for sports and fitness magazines. I dabbled with writing a novel for a long time, but it wasn’t until about three years ago now, that I started getting serious about it.

2-What is your favorite genre to write?

MM romance! J I love the idea of two people meeting, destined for each other, falling madly in love, and overcoming all obstacles, including themselves, to find their happily ever after. I mostly write contemporary, though I do have some vampires in the plot bunny folder. 

3-What are you working on now?

Well, I was working on a story about a nerdy young man finding his worth. It’s a contemporary MM with a touch of magic. But I’ve put that aside temporarily for two holiday themed stories with tight deadlines. One is a sweet MM contemporary that stems from the same snowstorm that triggered Riding with Heaven, and the other is a bit of a rom-com contemporary MM that bunny-hopped into my head after a conversation with some friends. After those three I’ll be working on the second Long Tall Drink story.

4-When you start a new story do you begin with character or plot?

It depends. Sometimes it’s a character, sometimes it’s the plot. But more often than not it’s a combination of the two. Most of my stories start with a scene in my head, or a conversation between two characters, when I’m waking up. Dream fragments. Then I mull them over and wonder what the rest of their story is. 

5- Tell us about your latest/upcoming release, what inspired it?

My latest release, Riding with Heaven, was inspired by one of my old roommates, actually. I was living in Colorado when the big snowstorm of 2006 hit just before Christmas. It was crazy—two feet of snow in four hours, and it shut down the Denver International Airport for two full days. My roommate was supposed to fly out the next morning, so instead of cancelling her trip or waiting to be rescheduled the following week, she placed an ad on Craigslist for a rideshare home. I never really thought about how crazy that was until I dropped her off at a gas station the next morning. But off she went and all was well.

It wasn’t until last year when I was out walking my dog that I thought about that and asked myself, “what if?” The whole story played out in my head while walking, and the second I got home I went straight to the computer and wrote the entire synopsis.

Riding with Heaven Blurb:

When his flight home for his brother’s birthday is canceled due to a Category 5 hurricane on the Eastern seaboard, art major Evan McGrath places an ad on Craigslist for a rideshare from Colorado to South Carolina. He hadn’t expected an immediate reply, nor had he expected to fall head-over-heels for the handsome and mysterious driver, Lucas Briscoe.

As the miles disappear behind them Evan grows more and more attracted to the enigmatic Lucas, and the desire is mutual. The only problem is that a serial killer dubbed “The Domino Slasher” has just escaped a federal prison transfer, and funny little coincidences keep pointing toward Lucas – who looks like Heaven incarnate, but who could be the Devil in disguise.

Riding with Heaven Excerpt:

Evan fumbled with the card key before the little light on the lock flashed from red to green, and the meaning of that wasn’t lost on him. He slowly pushed the door open, somewhat disbelieving what he was doing, yet at the same time unable to stop. He wanted Lucas. Never wanted anyone as much so quickly, and there was no denying that his desire wasn’t one-sided. Who was Evan to argue? He could break his own rules if he wanted to, and good God, did he ever.

He stepped inside and flicked on the light, then turned around—suddenly feeling very out of his depth—to find Lucas leaning against the door with fire in his eyes. It seemed like an eternity to Evan as they stood there, practically eye-fucking each other.

Lucas pushed off from the door and closed the distance between them like that big bad lion stalking that wee little mouse. But the little mouse would not run. Their gazes remained locked until their bodies were mere inches from contact. Evan couldn’t look away if he tried. His every sense heightened into sharp awareness. The soft gust of Lucas’s breath on his skin washed over him like warm ocean waves and reminded him of home. The subtle scent of leather mingled with the bitter hint of coffee Lucas had drunk at the restaurant. Even their breathing, increasing in rate and decreasing in depth, sounded desperate and ragged to his ears. Beyond that, beyond them, the world didn’t exist. Just he and Lucas and what they were about to do.

Evan dropped his gaze to Lucas’s parted lips, and Lucas took it as a green flag. He reached out and cupped the back of Evan’s head, then leaned in and brushed his lips lightly across Evan’s. Just that light touch, that brief silken caress, and the synapses in Evan’s brain began to misfire.

Lucas placed his other hand on Evan’s hip and gently pulled him closer until their bodies were flush. The heat of Lucas’s body, the hard ridge of his erection pressing against Evan’s, was enough to buckle Evan’s knees. Evan wrapped both arms around Lucas’s waist and hung on for dear life. Lucas captured Evan’s bottom lip and gave a playful tug, then released and teased the line of Evan’s upper lip with his tongue. But Evan wanted more, needed more. He opened, and Lucas accepted.

Lucas tilted his head to deepen the kiss, and then their tongues met in an erotic slide. Heat zinged through Evan’s body in every direction, his heart banged a rapid staccato against his rib cage, and a guttural moan rumbled deep in his throat. He pressed closer to Lucas, trying to crawl inside his skin.

And the kiss went on in a tangle of tongues and bump of teeth and moans of pleasure and groans of restrained desire. Good God, the man knows how to kiss! Lucas buried both hands in Evan’s hair and tugged his head back, finally breaking the endless kiss and exposing his neck. Evan moaned a complaint, wanting Lucas’s lips back on his, wanting their tongues to continue their sensual dance. But Lucas ignored his plea and nipped and kissed at the sensitive skin behind Evan’s ear, down the column of his neck, and then sucked gently on his Adam’s apple. Evan closed his eyes and shoved a hand up into Lucas’s hair.

“Yessss,” he said on a reedy breath. “Lucas.”

Then with a frustrated sigh, Lucas stopped his seductive ministrations and dropped his forehead to rest against the base of Evan’s neck. His breath huffed harsh and shallow on Evan’s bare skin. He disentangled one hand from Evan’s hair, slid it slowly down the side of his torso to his hip, and gently pushed so their lower bodies were no longer in contact. Evan whined his dismay, and Lucas chuckled softly. If Evan hadn’t been so beyond turned on, that might have embarrassed him, but just then, he couldn’t see much past the need to strip Lucas naked and taste every inch of his skin.

“No hookups, remember?” Lucas mumbled.

Evan lowered his chin to rest on Lucas’s head, the hair against his skin soft as silk, and growled. “Who the hell said that?”

Lucas stepped back to the door, opening a respectable, if reluctant, space between them.

“Good night, Evan McGrath.” And with that he turned, opened the door, and disappeared into the night.

“Bastard,” Evan whispered after the door clicked softly shut, then smiled.

* * *

Riding with Heaven is available at Loose Id, Amazon and ARe.

Artist by day, author by night, L.C. Chase is a hopeless romantic and adventure seeker. After a decade of road tripping on three continents, she now calls the Canadian West Coast home. When not writing tales of beautiful men falling love, L.C. can be found designing book covers of said beautiful men, reading, drawing, running the trails with her goofy four-legged buddy who, if he were human, would be a stand up comedian, and fighting her root beer addiction.

Find L.C. on her website, Blog, Goodreads, Twitter and DeviantArt.