 Griff looked up at her and blinked. “He’s gone.” “Huh? Who? Clint? What do you mean gone?” She pulled the other chair over so she could sit facing Griff. “Where is Clint?” “I don’t know. I got home; he was gone. Phoenix and Fern were gone. He couldn’t have left. It wasn’t even that big of a fight. Clint took our dogs and left.” Griff didn’t look at her. Instead he rubbed at a spot on his desk. “Stay there,” Candice commanded, standing and hurrying out of his office. Griff shrugged. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go,” he said to his empty office. He sat and watched as more people began populating his department. Some filtered off to other, smaller offices like his. Others took up their positions at desks in the open part of the floor. He tensed when the Assistant Chief Supervisor looked as if he was heading to Griff’s office, but fortunately he veered off to talk to someone else. He had no business trying to work today, however, he wasn’t completely up to going to his supervisor, Liam Burehle, and explaining why he needed some time off. Griff needed to focus on getting some work completed, but his brain wouldn’t cooperate. It didn’t want to think about anything other than why Clint would leave and how that turn of events made no sense. Candice returned. She set a paper cup of coffee on Griff’s desk and shoved a container of chilled juice into his hand. “Drink this. Then you’re going to eat this.” She held up a bagel wrapped in wax paper. “You’re wearing the same clothes you had on when you left yesterday.” “Candy, thank you, but I don’t—” “Eat. It. And drink up. You certainly aren’t going to function and rectify this situation in the state you’re in right now.” She pointed over her shoulder with her free hand. “Do I have to get the linebacker to come in and force-feed you?” Despite how he felt, Griff couldn’t help the small smile. “I am armed.” “So am I, but Kaminski is bigger than half the people in this office combined.” Candice held the bagel under Griff’s nose. After he took it, she stood, tapping her foot. Griff swallowed the container of juice in one go. He wondered if she knew orange/pineapple was his favorite. The chill of it perked him up, and the sugar gave him a boost. When the first bite of bagel and cream cheese hit his stomach, he realized he was famished. Candice crossed her arms and paced back and forth. “This feels wrong, and it stinks. How much clothing did Clint take?” Griff met her gaze and shook his head. “He didn’t take anything except Phoenix and Fern, his wallet, and phone.” “He didn’t—?” She blew out a breath. “What about his car? You do know the license plate number, right?” “Yes, but….” Griff stopped chewing. “He didn’t take his car either.” “Is it in your name?” “No. It’s not,” Griff said. He finished the bagel. His brain was working better. Twisting around, he picked up the coffee. “Why the hell would he leave and not take his car, then?” Candice stopped and stared at him. “This really doesn’t feel right.” “Yeah, I know. But I can’t exactly organize a manhunt for my boyfriend. Hell, reporting him missing isn’t likely to do much good either. We had a fight the night before I came home to find him gone. We haven’t had sex in, I don’t know, a few months and… you know as well as I do what people will think. Domestic dispute. My partner packed up and left.” Griff didn’t mean to erupt in front of Candice the way he had. “Except he didn’t pack a damn thing and either walked off or called someone to pick them up. And I can’t prove a goddamn thing!” When Candice went to his office door and called two other people in, then shut the door behind them, Griff realized he’d been yelling. “What the hell is going on?” Jim Kaminski actually had been a linebacker for a professional football team. Now he was a freaky good expert at all things related to computer technology. The second man, Matt Carver, completed their usual investigative team. Before Griff could answer, there was a knock on his office door. He held up one finger and asked in a loud enough voice to be heard through the door. “Yeah?” A young man, whose name escaped Griff, opened the door. “Inspector, there is a call for you, line four. It’s the animal shelter.” He nodded and closed the door again. “Why would they be calling you?” Matt asked. He looked at Jim, who only shrugged. Griff was out of the chair and around the desk in seconds. He picked up the phone, stabbed at the button, and said, “Inspector Diamond.” Griff listened to the woman on the other end of the phone before saying. “I’m downtown. I can be there in fifteen minutes. Thank you. Thank you so much.” “What’s going on?” Candice asked. “They have my dogs. Clint would never take them there, and he’d never leave them. The woman said they were found running down the street by a neighbor, like someone was chasing them.” Griff grabbed his phone and did a quick self-search for his keys, finally yanking them out of his pocket. “I have to go get my dogs. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”     
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 Blair used his hand on Forge’s chest to shove him through the door. He shut it behind them softly. One of Blair’s hands cupped the back of Forge’s neck, and Blair pulled them together, kissing Forge slowly, then slipping his tongue into Forge’s mouth, his fangs nipping his lip. Blair wasn’t usually the aggressor, and Forge adored it when he was. He put one hand on Blair’s ass and held him close, kneading the firm flesh of Blair’s buttock slowly. All too soon Blair broke their kiss. They leaned against each other, panting. Blair trembled. “I have a late class,” Blair whispered. “Will seven be okay?” Forge pulled in a deep breath, kissed Blair’s forehead, and nodded. “I’ll be there.” One more sweet kiss to Blair’s lips and Forge added, “I’ll call you later.” He dipped his head at the door and at the same time cupped Blair’s face, running his thumb lightly over his cheek. “Keep them in line. I’d better get back to work.” “Bye,” Blair said quietly, and Forge thought he sounded a bit wistful. “Keep the streets safe.” By the time Forge started across the parking lot again, he was whistling. He reached his car and had his fingers on the latch when something in his peripheral vision made him turn. The parking lot, cars, garden, and fountain were gone. They’d been replaced by dense woods and thick underbrush. Forge started when someone touched him with gentle fingers, brushing over his shoulder blades. It was a touch that had become familiar to him centuries ago. His clothing scratched at his torso and legs, and moist dirt and moss provided a soft base under his feet. The air was humid and hot. It smelled of decaying leaves, flowers, and berries. Boggslake settlement, 1800s “I remembered it being cooler this far north, ma moitié.” Forge turned toward Declan’s deep, rich voice. He wore lightweight breeches, a white shirt, and a deer hide overcoat. Declan’s thick, dark hair was pulled back and tied, with a leather cord braided through it. The end brushed between Declan’s shoulder blades. Declan stopped walking and moved his rifle from his shoulder to hold it in front of him. Something was off. There was an odd scent in the air. Forge stumbled when Declan put one arm across his chest and forced him back as Declan stepped in front. “What are you—” “Quiet,” Declan hissed. He’d switched from English to French. “Be still.” The strange odor grew stronger, and Forge put his hand on Declan’s shoulder, gripping hard. He swallowed and froze when the source of the odor became apparent. Without warning an invisible wall of cold radiated out from Declan. Forge knew when Declan did that it was very frightening to anyone or anything within a circumference of a dozen yards. The exception was Forge since that wall was never intended for him. A small river lay ahead. What stood in the river, teeth slashing and tearing through a deer, alternately fascinated and frightened Forge. At first glance it looked like a wolf, but no wolf Forge had ever seen before. Even on all fours, the thing stood tall enough to reach Forge’s elbow. When it looked at Forge, it seemed to use its eyes to bore straight to his soul. They were a piercing bright gold. A voice, deep and guttural, called from somewhere deeper in the forest, and Forge thought it said, “Jackson.” The creature turned its head toward the sound. For a second it looked back at them, lifted its lips in a silent snarl, then spun around and bound off across the river. Declan’s gaze shifted to the evening sky. “The moon will be full tomorrow. We should stay in town for a few nights.” Forge nodded. The town was three buildings in a clearing. One of those buildings had rooms for rent. Normally Forge would be excited by the prospect of a real bed where he and Declan could lie wrapped in each other’s arms. The projection of coldness and belligerence from Declan dissipated. Declan tapped Forge’s shoulder. “Let us get to Boggslake.” As Forge followed, he glanced back at the now-vacant river. He finally found his voice. “Babiche, what was that?” “A werewolf. He was young, barely more than a boy. This area is rife with them.” Declan reverted to English. “These woods aren’t going to be safe, even for us, ma moitié.” Boggslake, Present Day Something cold and hard pressed against Forge’s back. He felt a presence. Simultaneously realization filtered into his head that the woods had evaporated, replaced by a concrete parking lot. He was braced against his car. Forge turned around, fumbled with the lock, got the door open, and nearly dove into the car. He sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel, gasping for air. “What the hell? What the fucking hell?”    
Mickie B. Ashling has a new MMM contemporary romance out, The Basque Trilogy book one: A Unique Request. And there's a giveaway! Mickie has reduced the price of A Unique Request to $1.99 while the book is on tour.Seven years have passed since Paul Alcott and Mick Henley separated, but hearing the familiar voice reinforces what Paul has known all along―he still loves Mick and wants him back. Hope flares upon receiving a dinner invitation, but his dream evaporates when he learns that Mick is in a relationship with Basque jai alai player, Tono Garat. To make matters worse, Paul’s services as a book editor are solicited to help Tono through the final revision of a love story he’s written. Paul refuses until Mick reveals he’s been diagnosed with a fatal disease, and the novel is Tono’s only means of coping. Paul and Tono resent each other, but they can’t deny the strong sexual attraction between them. Will they overcome their differences to provide the loving support necessary to sustain the man they love or will their animosity destroy Mick’s final days? Warnings: Second chances, bittersweet, fatal disease Get It On Amazon | QueeRomance Ink | GoodreadsGiveaway Mickie is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47320/ Excerpt A Unique Request Mickie B. Ashling © 2024 All Rights Reserved Paul stood outside the door, debating his decision to show up. He had a bottle of red wine in one hand and a bunch of colorful wildflowers in the other. He’d given in to a moment of sentimental weakness, and now he wondered what the hell he was doing. He turned to leave when the door was yanked open by a fractious brunet with a scowl on his face. “¿Sí?” “Hi. I’m Paul Alcott.” The stranger scowled and scrutinized him from the top of his shining head down his designer-clad body. Paul was unfazed. He was just as curious about the man who’d replaced him in Mick’s life. He inspected him like he would any rival, noting the chestnut-colored hair curling around his neckline. His upper body was hidden behind a loose T-shirt, but the corded muscles of his forearms were a clear indication of what was underneath. He was striking, no doubt about it. The heated gaze was bad enough, but it was his luscious mouth that sent Paul’s mind straight to the gutter. He was shocked by his body’s quick response to this stranger, despite the obvious antagonism. He brought his hand down, covering the evidence of his growing interest with the flowers. The Spaniard blinked and rewarded Paul with a tentative smile. “I’m Tono Garat,” he announced in a heavily accented voice. “Nice to meet you.” Paul nodded. “Is Mick around?” “Yes, of course. Come in, please.” Tono spun around, and Paul zeroed in on the rounded ass covered in tight white shorts. No garter lines meant he was naked underneath, and Paul couldn’t help but notice. “Paul!” Mick called out, rushing forward and hugging Paul tightly. “God, it’s been too long.” “I know,” Paul said, falling under Mick’s spell within seconds. It had always been so good between them, and despite the years and the distance, the sentiment remained the same. “You’re still as gorgeous as ever. “Oh, stop. You always were good for my ego.” “The years have been kind to you, my friend,” Paul continued, taking in every part of Mick. He did look great, trim and fit, clean-shaven. His hair was a little longer than Paul remembered, but the dark curls framed Mick’s tanned face, making the violet-tinged eyes pop. “You don’t look half-bad either.” Mick’s voice shifted, and the words came out like a soft caress. He toyed with a lock of Paul’s silky hair, curling it around his finger. “When did you let your hair grow?” “After my father died; no more memos about looking professional.” Paul smirked as he recalled Paul Senior’s edicts. “Shall I take the bottle?” Tono interrupted, looking uncomfortable. Perhaps he was aware of their long history, but seeing the chemistry was a different matter altogether. “Sure,” Paul replied, handing over the wine. “I made a pitcher of sangria. Would you like a glass?” Tono asked, never taking his eyes off Paul. “Sounds good. I’m assuming it’s authentic.” “I made it from scratch,” Tono huffed. “Come on,” Mick stepped in, trying to diffuse the situation. He took Paul by the arm and led him out to the tiny patio that had a wrought iron table for four and several wooden planters filled with assorted vegetables. The tomatoes were almost ripe and hanging from branches held up with green sticks. The Weber grill was off to one side―a tribute to summer and warm evenings. “This is nice, Mick. I had no idea this was out here.” “Not too many people do. I guess the owners were into gardening, so I benefit. It’s what attracted me to this unit in the first place.” Paul sat down and stretched out, loving the sight of Mick after so long. “So, what have you been up to?” “Living La Vida Loca.” Mick smiled. “I’ve been writing, of course, but mostly enjoying my life.” “Sounds great. Are you still working on your sequel?” “Yes, as well as something new.” “Oh?” “I’m helping Tono with his book.” Paul gave Tono a frosty look. “You’re a writer?” “I’m not,” Tono replied, placing a large wineglass with chunks of fruit in front of Paul. “I’m a professional jai alai player, but I’ve written a romance, based on my relationship with Mick.” “A romance?” Paul turned to Mick for the answer. “Why?” “Because I’m dying.” Author Bio
MICKIE B. ASHLING is the pseudonym of a multi-published author who resides in a suburb outside Chicago. She is a product of her upbringing in various cultures, having lived in Japan, the Philippines, Spain, and the Middle East. Fluent in three languages, she’s a citizen of the world and an interesting mixture of East and West. A little bit of this and a lot of that have brought a unique touch to her literary voice she could never learn from textbooks. Since 2009, Mickie has written several dozen novels in the LGBTQ+ genre—which have been translated into French, Italian, Spanish, and German. Audiobooks and foreign translations are available at Amazon and Audible. Her award-winning novels have been described as "gut- wrenching, daring, and thought-provoking." Author Website: https://www.mickieashling.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/mickie.ashling Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mickieashling Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/217416171-a-unique-request Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/mickie-b-ashling/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Mickie-B.-Ashling/author/B004QSCN3E 
SERIES TOUR - THE HISTORIC HOMES SERIES 
The Historic Homes Series by R.J. Koreto Publisher: Level Best Books Available in Kindle, Paperback and Audio Series Blurb Young architect Wren Fontaine specializes in restoring grand historic homes in the New York City area. She finds these homes contain mysteries, which also connect to modern crimes, all of them centered on the magnificent mansions. She's assisted by her girlfriend, chef/event planner Hadley Vanderwerf, a descendant of one of New York's great Gilded Age families. They contain the same main characters, and can be read in any order. Each book in the series ends with a solid conclusion. Genres: Contemporary, Murder Mystery and Suspense, Romance NOTE: All three books in this series take place in the present. However, my protagonists spend a lot of time researching and discussing characters who lived in the past. Pairing: FF The central romance is between the sleuth/protagonist, Wren Fontaine, and her girlfriend, Hadley Vanderwerf, which starts in the first book and grows and deepens throughout the series. A side romance exists between Wren's mentor, Professor Lavinia Suisse, and her wife, Angela, a prominent physician. Overall Heat Rating for the series: 1 flame - The characters have active sex lives, but there's a kiss, fade to black, and then someone is making omelettes the next morning. Buy Links for all books BOOK DETAILS BOOK 1 Book Title: The Greenleaf Murders Length: 250 pages Release Date: November 29, 2022 Tense/POV: third person, past tense Tropes: Forbidden love, friends to lovers, love triangle, great families, righting past wrongs, obsessions Themes: Coming out, forgiveness, the importance of family, class differences, revenge 
As young architect Wren Fontaine renovates a Gilded Age mansion and starts a tenative romance with a member of the distinguished family that owns it, she finds that both old homes and new lovers can hide dark secrets. Blurb Young architect Wren Fontaine lands her dream job: restoring Greenleaf House, New York's finest Gilded-Age mansion, to its glory days. But old homes have old secrets: Stephen Greenleaf—heir to what’s left of his family’s legacy—refuses to reveal what his plans are once the renovation is completed. And still living in a corner of the home is Stephen's 90-year-old Aunt Agnes who's lost in the past, brooding over a long-forgotten scandal while watching Wren with mistrust. Wren's job becomes more complex when a shady developer who was trying to acquire Greenleaf House is found murdered. And after breaking into a sealed attic, Wren finds a skeleton stuffed in a trunk. She soon realizes the two deaths, a century apart, are strangely related. Meanwhile, a distraction of a different kind appears in the form of her client's niece, the beautiful and seductive Hadley Vanderwerf. As Wren gingerly approaches a romance, she finds that Hadley has her own secrets. Then a third murder occurs, and the introverted architect is forced to think about people, and about how ill-fated love affairs and obsessions continue to haunt the Greenleafs. In the end, Wren risks her own life to uncover a pair of murderers, separated by a century but connected by motive. She reveals an odd twist in the family tree that forever changes the lives of the Greenleafs, the people who served them, the mansion they all called home—and even Wren herself. BOOK 2 Book Title: The Turnbull Murders Length: 260 pages Release Date: September 12, 2023 Tropes: Romance, past wrongs, class differences Themes: Obsessive love, jealousy, family ties 
Young architect Wren Fontaine, along with her girlfriend Hadley, renovates a 200-year old house for movie star Nicky Tallon, and finds a pattern of murder that connects a long-gone sea captain with Nicky's two enigmatic girlfriends. Blurb Movie star Nicky Tallon selects architect Wren Fontaine to renovate Turnbull House, where he'll be filming his next movie. Even to Wren, used to old homes, this one is a 200-year-old federal-style home on a private island in New York harbor, designed by the most celebrated architect of the day. But Turnbull House hides many secrets, such as the disappearance of the sea captain who built it. That's just a historical curiosity, until a studio executive no one likes is killed. BOOK 3 Book Title: The Cadieux Murders Length: 238 pages Release Date: October 15, 2024 Tropes: Forbidden love, great families, righting past wrongs Themes: Obsession, the importance of friendship, the importance of family, the difficulties of coming out and LGBTQ acceptance. 
As young architect Wren Fontaine, along with girlfriend Hadley Vanderwerf, works on a twisty modernist house, built 70 years ago by a renowned architect as a gift of love for its owner, the pair finds that not everyone appreciated that love—and someone is crossing the line into obsession. Blurb The ink is still wet on the contract, but Wren Fontaine is already running into trouble as she renovates Cadieux House, a modernist masterpiece on Long Island's exclusive Gold Coast. The home's architect was the brilliant and eccentric Marius Cadieux, her father's mentor, and Ezra doesn't want Wren to change as much as a doorknob. About the Author R.J. Koreto is the author of the Lady Frances Ffolkes mystery series, the Alice Roosevelt mystery series, and the Wren Fontaine Historic Homes series. His short stories have been published in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine and Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine. Author Links Website/Newsletter sign-up | Facebook | Twitter 
Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for the chance to win a $20 Amazon Gift Card. 
 Clint held his breath. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the signed baseball bat resting on a stand on top of his office shelves. It had been a housewarming gift from his grandmother when he and Griff had moved in. He could do a lot of damage with a baseball bat. Unfortunately, to get to the bat, he’d have to go back into his office and would lose the advantage of being able to see most of the kitchen and all of the living room. He had two choices: stand there and watch whoever was in the house come at him, or arm himself with a weapon he could use. Clint opted for arming himself. Moving as quietly and as quickly as possible, he stepped back into his office, mentally cursing when he hit a squeaky floorboard. He was almost close enough to reach up and grab his prize when he felt a presence behind him. Clint jumped and tried to turn around when Phoenix erupted like some rabid movie dog, barking and snarling. He didn’t need the dog to alert him to the fact the arm wrapped around his neck wasn’t Griff’s. Lunging forward proved useless. All that accomplished was knocking into the shelves. He heard the bat rattle back and forth on the stand. Clint tried to reach back and grab his assailant with one hand and rammed his elbow back with the other arm into his attacker, but those moves proved useless. Pressure on either side of his neck and his vision graying out happened simultaneously. Through a haze he heard the sickening sound of flesh and muscle being hit. A canine yelp and the only spoken words—“Fucking dog!”—all came in a jumble.  AUDIO and BOOK BLAST 
Book Title: Humbug: Scrooge Before the Ghosts Author: Sarah Whelan Publisher: Mascot Books Narrator: Charles Robert Fox Release Date: November 7, 2023 Pairing: MM Tense/POV: First person, past tense Genres: Historical Tropes: Forbidden love Themes: Prequel to classic story, redemption, recovery from loss Heat Rating: 2 flames Length: 344 pages Audiobook Length: 9 hours and 29 minutes It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links 
In this retelling of A Christmas Carol, Scrooge recounts the defining moments of his life, revealing his love affair with business partner Jacob Marley, the reasons why he hates Christmas so much, and what turned him into the scowling, penny-pinching old man we think we know so well. Blurb A Christmas Carol shows us one terrible day in Ebenezer Scrooge’s life, but have you ever wondered what came before his fateful encounter with the ghosts of Christmas time? What happened to turn him into the scowling, penny-pinching old man we think we know so well? There is so much more to this character—possibly more than Charles Dickens himself could ever have imagined. Scrooge has compelling reasons for hating Christmas, for rejecting his fiancée and his precious nephew, and for employing Tiny Tim’s father, despite his obvious incompetence. He is a doting uncle, beloved brother, successful businessman, and passionate lover, but a dark secret puts both him and his loved ones at risk. Scrooge struggles to embrace his true self and live in defiance of the Victorian era’s repressive moral standards. Soul-crushing losses and his own destructive choices shape his fate into a twisted path of sorrow, frustration, and uncertainty—but also happiness, fulfillment, and love. Scrooge’s own words sum it up best: “How delightfully queer life is.” Excerpt CHAPTER ONE MERCY 1850 The phantom looms over my deathbed, his skeletal form shrouded in the same hooded cloak as the first time he appeared to me, on Christmas Eve some seven years ago. He is silent, as before, but his mission is a different one. Instead of the redemption he and his fellow spec- ters offered on their previous visit, he has come to collect and deliver me to the spirit world. “Do not take me yet, Phantom.” My voice is as shaky as my resolve. A tear trickles down my cheek, but I lack the strength to wipe it away. It lingers there, stalled halfway through its journey, just as I remain teetering at the edge of a desolate chasm between life and death. It is not the fear of dying that keeps me here, for I know what awaits me in the afterlife. I redeemed myself after Jacob Marley and his ghosts left me with a soul churning in regret. I embraced my penchant for com- passion, loved and was loved in return, and undid some of the damage I had inflicted on the souls of others, as well as my own. It took the better part of my life to amass the courage needed to reject the moral constraints society imposed and overcome the obstacles I had embedded in my own path. True happiness came only when I gave myself completely to the person I loved most. I earned my rightful place in eternity, and my heavenly sanctuary awaits just beyond the mortal realm. But I choose to endure, despite the agony, as spasms tear through my body and I shiver with cold, though the blankets weigh heavily upon me. I offer this suffering willingly in ex- change for the opportunity to revel in the memories of my seven decades on this blessed earth. In my final moments, I wish to honor those who walked beside me through a lifetime comprised, in turns, of misery and happiness, selfish- ness and altruism, isolation and kinship, bitterness and love. On my knees, hands clasped against my chest and head bowed to the towering shadow figure, I beg, “Grant me time enough to remember. Then I will surrender my soul. I will offer no resistance. Will you have mercy on your old friend Scrooge?” A single nod is the phantom’s response. Grateful for his gift of a temporary reprieve, I grip his bony hand. “Lead on, generous spirit. Let us journey to the past.” About the Author Unlike Scrooge, SARAH WHELAN loves Christmas: the decorations, the music, the traditions—everything. She is excited to make her own contribution to the holiday with a new twist on Charles Dickens’ classic tale. Sarah is a full-time professional writer, and her nonfiction has appeared in a variety of magazines. Her first novel, The Struggle Within, was published in 2018. She lives in Connecticut and loves spending time in her favorite city of Boston. Social Media Links Audible Profile | Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram 
About the Narrator Charles Robert Fox is an experienced professional narrator, performer and general storytelling wizard. He has over 100 titles listed on Audible. Location: England, United Kingdom 
 My snippet this week is from For the Long Run.  Moving faster, Eric eased almost out and pounded back into Jay, murmuring, “Mine. She might touch your cheek or hold your hand, but you’re all mine.” Jay’s body bucked and quivered under him. He groaned, begging, “Please, sir.” Eric’s hips stuttered, and he drove in harder, reveling in the naked warmth and muscle surrounding him. Biting his lip to keep from shouting and possibly attracting unwanted attention, Eric grunted, let go of Jay’s hair, and grabbed his hips with both hands, slamming them together. His balls tightened and drew up, his skin tingling head to foot. In the next instant his orgasm ripped through him, making his toes curl against the floor and his breath catch in his chest. Read more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group! For the Long Run is available in eBook, paperback, audio
and through Kindle Unlimited. |
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