A little story inspired by events that really bear little resemblance to the story.
Bryce is the adorable young thing that Dustin knows he shouldn’t want. He should be looking for a man his own age. Someone with a future. Someone with a real job. But no matter how hard he tries, no matter how much he knows that it just won’t work, he can’t resist those big blue eyes.
Dusty is an adult. So unlike any of the party crowd that Bryce hangs around. But after just a brief taste of Dusty’s so-called boring, normal life, Bryce is more surprised than anyone to find out that that’s the life he wants.
“I told you you’d like it here,” Danni proclaimed as she mounted the empty barstool beside him. It was after midnight and around them, the party was clearly dying down, the crowd about a third less than it had been only a half hour before. The music was still going and the bar was still open, though, so there was still some life left in this sucker.
Grinning, he grabbed her arm to help steady her. This, of course, was the other reason he was here. He had to drive since Danni was clearly three sheets to the wind. While she kept drinking with her friends, he’d switched to cola about an hour ago. “Yes, you were right, oh wise one.”
Scowling, she slapped his arm. Then she ruined the effect by breaking into a delighted laugh. “So,” she tried to contain herself and primly folded her hands in front of her on the high table. They were alone for the moment. “What are your plans for the evening?”
Patrick looked up from the toolbox, distracted from his search for his favorite socket wrench. There, in the open front of his workshop stood Linnie, his insane next-door neighbor. Okay, maybe she wasn’t insane, but she was one of those people who wasn’t far from it. She sure was pretty to look at, though, especially when, as currently, she was wearing tight little cut-off shorts and one of those stretchy, shiny tank tops in vivid orange. The tank hugged her gorgeous little breasts just perfectly and the cheerleader legs extending from those shorts had starred in more than one of his late night fantasies.
Tossing back her loose wealth of nearly crimson curls, she hurried toward him, her flip-flops slapping on the cement floor. Her little hands reached out to grab his arm, heedless of the sawdust that coated the hair on his arm. “I need your help.” Her big green eyes were wide with concern.
The powers that be at MLR Press asked for it and I, weak as I am, agreed to do a sequel to About Something.
Turns out life as a drag queen isn’t what Shawn thought it would be. He loves the costumes and dressing up, but he’s found he’s better suited to performing from a script than vamping onstage. Too bad Shawn figured this out long after breaking up with Roscoe when his bossy director boyfriend told him he didn’t have what it would take.
Two years later, Shawn may not be wildly happy but he’s content. That is until Roscoe shows up to ask him to reprise his role as Beatrice in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. Roscoe is as magnetic as he’s always been and the spark between them is still burning bright.
When Roscoe turns on the charm for a more personal reunion, can Shawn resist? Does he even want to?
They’d all figured Jen could handle it. None of them had intended to change their friendship or turn it into anything long-term. Just friends having fun. Then Ken had thrown a wrench into the works. Or, as he claimed, Jen had mucked it up by sleeping with Jason, Bart, and Davey but refusing to sleep with him. Jason had to admit that would have ticked him off too. Looking back on the one night when the five of them had been together, Ken was the only one who hadn’t done more than kiss Jen. Of course, she’d stayed the night with him when the rest of them had gone home. That was the night Ken had seen the proverbial light and asked Jen to marry him. Jason was happy for them. He was. Looking at them now, he wondered why no one had seen that they were meant for each other before.
When Steven helps his neighbor Devon move into the studio apartment upstairs, he can’t help but drool. And that’s all. Devon is straight and totally off limits. Knowing, though, doesn’t stop the desire Steven fights every time the two men are together, which is a lot since Steven has decided to take Devon under his wing until the young man can get his life together
The spoon in Steven’s hand slipped from his fingers, clattering to the table and spattering alfredo sauce. “What the …?”
“Watch it.” Patty stood, hands out to steady the pot in his hands.
Setting the pot down, he dropped the potholder beside it and rushed to the front door toward the sound, trusting Patty to clean up the small mess behind him.
Opening the door, he nearly stumbled over a basketball that came rolling into his apartment. Instinctively picking it up, he stuck his head out into the hallway to see where it had come from. To his left, the staircase leading up to the four studio apartments on the floor above his was strewn with personal effects, including a photo album that had spilled dozens of loose photographs over the worn cement slats. At the bottom of the stairs, a man with short, dark hair, dressed in a blue t-shirt and knee-length cut-off shorts, knelt over what looked to be a shattered glass object, muttering as he carefully picked up pieces.
“Hey.” Steven stepped into the hall, tucking the basketball underneath his arm. “You need help with that?”
The man looked up, and Steven was stunned to behold the face of an angel. Okay, maybe not an angel, but a damned beautiful male specimen, just the same. The hair was deep chestnut, cut short around his ears, mostly straight and glossy but with a little bit of a curl at the ends. A stray curl of said hair brushed dark, heavy brows that shielded the biggest, most amazing brown eyes Steven had ever seen, ringed with ridiculously long black lashes. A scattering of faint freckles dotted a patrician nose with a tip that listed slightly to the left, both it and the cheekbones sloping down toward a generous, kissable mouth perched right atop a small brown poet’s beard. That mouth was currently dropped open in surprise. The eyes were almost as wide as the mouth, and two telltale tears tracked down smooth cheeks the color of dark butterscotch.
They weren’t there! He reached inside, carefully lifting the few items within the safe, but there were no documents anywhere in the small compartment.
That was impossible! For a moment, he gaped in disbelief at the safe’s interior. The papers had to be in there. He’d seen Quince put them there himself just this afternoon. Why would the boss take them back out? But they certainly weren’t there, and the whole reason for this escapade was gone. Mind reeling in confusion, Kyle closed the safe and replaced the small framed photograph that hid it from view. Now what?
A hand clamped over his mouth as an arm snaked around his chest. Kyle froze in shock. His penlight dropped to the floor with a muffled thunk. Continue reading EXCERPT – Snagged→
My silly romp story is now available. Hope you enjoy!
Alex dumped her and Jen’s not sure why. Okay, he’d been her first, but she thought she’d done rather well, sexually speaking. Why did he all of a sudden tell her that it wasn’t working out? What was wrong with her?
Ken, Bart, Davey and Jason—her best friends—all try to convince her there’s nothing wrong with her. In fact they seek to prove it to her… by first-hand example. That’s all well and good until Jen starts freaking out. She’s sleeping with her best friends. All of them.