Key To Me and About Something are both available through MLR Press

Pairing: m/m

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available for Kindle at Amazon

Available in ebook at Barnes & Noble

BLURB:

Rynn made a mistake in taking the drug hextasy with his fiancée. It was supposed to be the ultimate sexual high, except that you have to sleep with the one you desire most. If you don’t, your body won’t be satisfied and you’ll die. Rynn lived, Lynnette didn’t, and now her parents want someone to pay. Either luck or Surseine, the god of justice Himself, takes pity on Rynn by putting his trial in front of one of His judges. Sursei are graced by the god they represent with the power to see truth and Sursei Shasertai finds Rynn innocent of murder.

But the drug is still out there and Shasertai and the people who travel with him are determined to root out the drug lord responsible for its existence. Shas invites Rynn to join them. He goes willingly, fascinated by the judge who gave him a second chance at life.

Rynn might be innocent and straight, but Shas isn’t. He’s gay, happily so, and very much drawn to the farm boy whose simple innocence is a balm to one who can hear through the lies. What he hears is that Rynn’s not gay, so he vows not to get involved. Until another drug, another time, gets in the way…and then he and Rynn will have to deal with the each other’s truths and their growing attraction.

Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual practices.

**********************

©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Rynn followed Sheriff Trent into the lobby of a swank hotel in downtown Taft. It was located in the high-rent district, not far from the passenger train station. A farm boy like him had no business in a place with fine woven rugs over tightly tiled floors. Heck, there were even gaslights lining the sweeping staircase to the right, and an elevator was displayed prominently across the lobby from the double front doors. The sheriff led him right up to the elevator door and pushed the button. Rynn stared at the etched metal doors and the shiny copper decorations around the edges, slightly alarmed by the muted sound of machinery clanking behind them.

“Stop scratching.”

Rynn blinked at the older man, then looked down to find his blunt nails digging through the thick wool of his clean, borrowed trousers into the meat of his thigh. “Oh. Sorry.” Balling that hand into a fist, he tucked both hands behind his back. At least the sheriff had let him ditch the jacket and tie. Now he just had to concentrate on not getting the white shirt dirty.

“Don’t be nervous.”

Rynn flinched at a dinging sound and couldn’t help but gape a little as the metal doors slid open to reveal a shiny little blue-carpeted compartment. A boy dressed in a uniform of a blue to match the carpet stood off to one side, holding open the doors. Warily, Rynn followed the sheriff into the box.

“What floor, sir?” asked the boy as they turned to face the door.

“Six,” Trent answered.

The boy nodded and pulled a lever. Silently, the metal doors shut them in. Rynn clutched at a handrail set into the back wall when the floor beneath his feet jounced.

“Rynn.”

He blinked at the sheriff’s smile.

“It’ll be all right, boy.”

Rynn nodded. Trying not to realize that they were rising in the air, he focused on something else. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

Sheriff Trent shrugged, the leather of his brown duster creaking loudly in the cramped space. “Don’t think it matters. He’s a man of the law. Hell, being sursei, he is the law. He’s agreed to take you at least as far as Vinton. It’s a lumber town. Young man your size should be able to find a job there easy enough. I’m sending references, and he’s agreed to vouch for your innocence.”

“Really?”

Again the sheriff smiled, reaching up to pat his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Rynn. I know it, and the sursei proved it. It’s time to get on with your life away from the Dotalls. Just do me a favor and think before you do something like this in the future, huh?”

Rynn swallowed over a sudden lump in his throat, then jumped again at the sound of another ding. “Sixth floor,” announced the kid in the uniform as the compartment settled to a halt. He pulled another lever, and the doors slid back open.

Rynn was glad to step out of the elevator and follow the sheriff down the hall.

The elevator doors had barely closed when a feminine shriek sounded ahead of them. Both he and Sheriff Trent froze, staring at each other. Then they heard the thunk of a heavy piece of furniture and the clatter of what sounded like chairs. As one, they turned and sprinted toward the sounds, urged on by another shout—male this time—and another female cry.

The sheriff reached the appropriate door first, his pistol out of its holster, pointed up at the ceiling. He pulled Rynn behind him, staying at the side of the doorway as he reached in to knock. “Sursei, it’s the sheriff. Is everything all right in there?”

All sound within stopped.

“Judge?”

“Just a moment,” the female voice called. A mutter of voices preceded the clatter of the door’s lock just before it was yanked wide open. On the other side stood the blonde woman from the courtroom. At least, Rynn was pretty sure it was she. The face was the same, even if it was now partly covered by the fallen half of what might have once been a neatly pinned hairdo. Holding the doorknob, she propped the other hand on the hip of her lemon yellow skirt. The ruffles at the neck and wrists of her white blouse looked mussed; the trailing ends of a black ribbon that probably should have circled her neck dangled over her breasts.

“Hello, sheriff,” she greeted, two bright dots of color pinkening her cheeks.

“Miss Kogin.” Rynn couldn’t see his face, but the older man nodded. He didn’t put away his gun. “Is everything all right?”

She eyed the weapon, or tried. With an irritated huff, she blew at the curls that tried to blind her left eye. “Oh, we’re fine.” She glared over her shoulder. “Shas is just cheating again.”

“That would be impossible,” came a calm reply behind her.

Rolling her eyes, she stepped back. “Please, come in. Maybe you can talk some sense into them.”

The sheriff hesitated, but then he took a few cautious steps into the room. Rynn stayed right behind him.

Behind the woman, two men faced each other over a space that had clearly recently contained the card table that now lay on its side, out of their way. The tense positions in which they stood told Rynn that a fight was about to break out. To his surprise, one of the combatants was the sursein judge.

The delicate, almost feminine man who had tried Rynn’s case just a few hours previous certainly looked more masculine now, if no less gorgeous. His violet robes were replaced with snug, worn jeans tucked into well-made, black suede, knee-high boots. The toned muscles of his shoulders and arms were on display thanks to his sleeveless black top, and as it was formfitting, it also showed what looked to be a honed chest. The white-gold hair that had been braided down his back before was now loose, flowing in gentle waves over his shoulders. Two long locks from his temples were drawn back and banded with a tie at the nape of his neck, the only effort made to tame the slippery fall of hair. His face remained in profile since he wouldn’t take his eyes off the other man, but that just showed off a flawless, sharply etched profile. Expressionless, he looked perfectly capable of snatching the gun from where it was tucked into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back and firing before the man staring at him could do the same.

The man across from him scowled. Although good-looking, he could not compare to the judge’s delicate beauty. A trim, dark beard lined his square jaw, with a matching mustache shadowing a wide, thin-lipped mouth. Deep-set blue eyes were shadowed by thick black eyebrows. He was a little taller and a little wider than the judge, but he had a slim quality that the bulk of his dark blue jacket couldn’t hide. More coyote than bear. A grin hovered at the edges of his mouth. His fingers hovered over the pistol seated in a holster strapped to his thigh, at least three gold rings glinting in the ample light provided by kerosene lamps.

“Gentlemen?” the sheriff asked, stopping just close enough to the men that he could keep them both in his sights. His gun he kept out but pointed toward the faded blue carpet beneath his boots. The tone in his voice was the one Rynn had heard a number of times in the jailhouse. The one he used to command instant respect.

The sursei raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t budge. “Good evening, sheriff.” That voice. Smooth as fresh-strained cream.

Rynn edged into the room behind the sheriff, gaze darting around to see if he could spot a possible weapon in case Sheriff Trent needed help. That’s when he spotted a third man, sitting on an easy chair in the corner, feet propped on a matching footstool, watching with a small smile. It was the judge’s bodyguard from earlier, his bulk nearly overfilling the chair. He had his big hands laced behind his bald head, and his dark eyes twinkled as he seemed to enjoy the show.

Now Rynn was quite confused.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” The pretty young woman muttered angrily to herself as she stepped right up between the sursei and his opponent. “Would you stop?”

At her presence, the judge and the other man relaxed a bit, although their eyes remained locked.

She rolled her eyes, reaching up to shove back the hair that hung in her face. “Please, Shas, we have guests.” When neither moved, she glanced beyond the judge at the seated bodyguard. “Harmon!”

Chuckling, the bodyguard unfolded himself from the chair and strolled toward the center of the room. Rynn and the bodyguard were about the same size, although the bodyguard was probably a little broader than he was. Certainly he was older and held himself like the older guardsmen Rynn had known during training, wearing his experience like a badge. He, too, stepped between the two combatants, facing the man in the blue jacket. “Colton, why don’t you and me go in the other room for a minute?” Not waiting for an answer, he set one beefy hand on the man’s right arm, effectively ruining his chances at any kind of a good shot.

The man’s eyes narrowed, and then he shook his head and backed down. “You’re a cheat, Shas.”

The judge tossed his head with a laugh. Instantly, the tension in the room dissipated. “Again, I assure you, that is quite impossible.”

The bodyguard led the other man toward an open doorway at the far end of the room, and finally the judge turned to face Rynn and the sheriff.

Purple eyes. That one detail jumped out at Rynn as the judge stepped toward them. It wasn’t the eerie total color with no whites or pupils that he’d seen earlier in court. The judge’s eyes were now quite normal-looking except for the vivid amethyst that Rynn had never seen on anyone else. They were like perfectly round gemstones set in red-veined white marble. The strange color, though, seemed to go with the judge’s light complexion. Did all sursei have purple eyes, or was this one special?

Pistol holstered, Sheriff Trent snatched off his hat and exchanged greetings and a handshake with the judge. Trent had met with him earlier about Rynn, but he was clearly not very comfortable in the judge’s presence. Then the judge turned to extend his hand to Rynn. A thick gold ring glittered on his middle finger, matching two thinner bands on his thumb and little finger. A full head shorter than Rynn, he had to tilt his head up to get a good look at Rynn’s face. “We’ve not been formally introduced. I’m Shasertai Kogin.”

“Rynnis Lort.”

“Yes, you are.” The judge folded his free hand over their entwined hands. “Forgive me. I know, technically speaking, I’ve seen you, but my experiences while in Surseine’s trance are nothing compared to when out of it. I see many things clearly, but others”—he shook his head as his gaze raked down, then back up, Rynn’s chest—“I miss entirely.”

Rynn almost felt that gaze, and it made him want to scratch again. “It’s an honor to meet you, sursei.”

The judge returned to studying his face and didn’t let go of his hand. Then a small smile curled up the corners of his full-lipped mouth. “Truth preserve me, you are a fine-looking man, aren’t you?”

Appearing beside him, the woman slapped the judge’s arm. “Shas!”

Rynn’s eyes went wide when the judge raised the hand not linked with Rynn’s to draw his fingers down the beard on the taller man’s jaw. “Such rugged, handsome features.”

“Shas!”

Surprisingly strong fingers gripped the tip of Rynn’s chin, nudging his face sideways to reveal his profile. “Sheriff, is there a secret about the farms out here that I should know about?”

The woman grabbed Shasertai’s wrist and tugged his hand away. “Stop that.”

He gave her a wide-eyed look, full of false innocence. “You don’t think so?” He faced Rynn again and winked. “She thinks you’re good-looking too.”

She threw her hands in the air, rustling her skirts. “Honestly.”

The judge chuckled a little. He took one more perusal of Rynn’s face and then heaved a sigh. He released Rynn’s hand slowly, letting his fingers trail first over Rynn’s palm, then under his fingers, sending thrilling little tendrils of sensation up Rynn’s arm. “But I do recall some mention of a woman in today’s trial. A fiancée.” He cocked his head to the side, some of that silky white-gold hair spilling over his chest. “I realize you prefer sex with women, but have you tried sex with a man?”

“Shasertai!” the woman all but screeched.

For his part, Rynn could only gape. What was the man talking about? What was going on?

The bodyguard had returned to right the card table. The bearded gunman stood watching the judge size up Rynn, his expression unreadable.

The sheriff reached over to grip Rynn’s arm. “Excuse me, sursei. When we spoke earlier, I didn’t mean for you to think I was offering Rynn’s…uh, services.”

The judge’s eyes closed partway, his half smile making things low in Rynn’s belly flip. A man just shouldn’t be that pretty. It was confusing. “I’m well aware of that, sheriff. I know exactly why you asked for my help. Help I’m still willing to give, regardless of Mr. Lort’s sexual preferences.” Still smiling, he turned away, speaking over his bare shoulder. “But you can’t blame me for trying.”

The woman inserted herself into Rynn’s view of Shasertai’s retreating back, blocking the sight of slim, gently swaying hips. “I’m so sorry,” she said, taking Rynn’s hand in one of hers and the sheriff’s in the other. “My brother has a warped sense of humor.” Sometime during Shasertai’s introduction, she’d taken the pins out of her fallen hairdo and banded the long white-gold locks into a simple ponytail down her back. With her face exposed and the color of her hair, Rynn could easily see the resemblance between her and the sursei. She had the same delicate bone structure and pale features, but her eyes were a rich royal blue. Just as pretty, but the judge was more blatantly so. Why was that? To Rynn, she smiled as she tugged him and Trent farther into the room. “My name is Yolan Kogin. I’m my brother’s clerk and personal assistant.”

“Keeper.” Shasertai’s murmur carried across the room even though his back was to them, his attention on pouring amber liquid from a crystal decanter into a delicate matching glass.

She ignored him. “May we offer either of you a drink?”

Shasertai turned, propping his bottom against the edge of the drink cabinet. “I’m told it’s the finest brandy in town.” His gaze flicked over to the men now kneeling beside the table to gather scattered cards. The bearded one glanced up and caught him watching, which only made the judge smile.

“No, thank you,” said the sheriff, shifting so his overcoat creaked. “I’m still on duty. I just came to introduce Rynn and make sure everything was settled.”

One bare arm crossed over his middle, the other elbow propped on it, Shasertai brought his glass to his lips, a wicked look raking over Rynn again. “I’m sure we’ll be just fine.”

“Shas, please.” Yolan sighed. Again she spoke to Rynn, patting his arm. “We understand you might be in some danger due to this afternoon’s ruling?”

Rynn realized now that he was having a tough time keeping his eyes off the judge. Knowing that was rude, he made himself face Yolan. “Well, I don’t know about that, ma’am…”

“As I told you this afternoon, Paulson Dotall owns a large chunk of this town and the surrounding area.” The sheriff kept his attention on Yolan. “There are many powerful men in these parts whose livelihoods depend on him. If he blacklists Rynn, he’ll have no chance of finding a job anywhere in the county.”

Rynn frowned. Things were moving so fast. This morning, he’d been pretty sure he might be hanged before the week was up. Now he was free, but it looked like he was banished from the only home he’d ever known. Wasn’t losing Lynnette enough?

Yolan nodded. “That’s an understandable concern, sheriff. Quite understandable. We’re glad to offer to escort Mr. Lort to a more amenable area.”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” Sheriff Trent fiddled with the brim of his hat. “They’re not all bad men, ma’am. But you know what money does to people.”

“Yes. Indeed.” She smiled at Rynn. “Well, we’ve agreed to escort you at least as far as Vinton. You’ll stay with us here tonight; then we’ll leave in the morning by train. Most of the staff are with the coach right now, just the four of us here in the hotel.” She waved a hand to indicate the bodyguard. “That’s Harmon, Shasertai’s bodyguard. You’ll bunk with him. And this”—she indicated the other man—“is Marshal Colton Garrah. He and his four deputies travel with us.”

Shasertai chuckled. “My dear companion.”

Colton stood, glaring at him.

Shasertai fluttered his eyelids in a ridiculously feminine manner.

Colton shook his head and then turned to nod at the sheriff, suggesting they had met. Rynn also nodded in response to the man’s silent greeting.

Yolan made a curt hand gesture toward her brother, who simply rolled his eyes and turned to splash brandy into a second rounded glass.

“Yes, well.” Yolan smiled at Rynn as Colton bent to help Harmon right the table. “I think that’s it, then.”

Rynn’s head was spinning, his eyes on the man in the dark jacket with the gun at his hip. Companion. Did that mean what he thought it meant? Together with the judge’s appraisal of him, it suggested that they were together. As a couple. He knew it was true there were men who preferred sexual relationships with other men, but he’d never met any.

“Sheriff, I’m sure you have other things to do. If you’ll give me your letter of reference for Mr. Lort, I think you can go.” Yolan held out her hand.

Sheriff Trent looked up at Rynn, searching. “Well, I…?”

“Or did you have luggage, Mr. Lort? We can retrieve that in the morning, or you can have it sent to the train station. Not to worry about expenses. We’re well supplied to handle one more for such a short trip. Although, if you’d like to supply a stipend for Mr. Lort, sheriff, I can deposit it into the bank before we leave, then withdraw it when we reach Vinton.”

Trent glanced at her, at the judge, then back at Rynn. “I just want to make sure Rynn’s all right with this.”

She stared at the sheriff for a moment, and then her eyes went cold. “Oh. I see.”

The judge’s warm chuckle was at odds with her chilly tone. A drink in each hand, he stepped up behind her, proving that he was a bare inch taller than she. He regarded both men over her shoulder. “Sheriff, I assure you that your young friend will be quite safe with us.” That unsettling violet gaze settled on Rynn. “No one will force him into anything against his will. You have my word.”

“I appreciate that, sursei.” The sheriff’s voice was soft, almost apologetic. “And of course I trust the word of a sursein judge. But it’s Rynn’s decision.”

Rynn tore his gaze from compelling purple eyes to look at the sheriff. The man had been nothing but good to him in the past month or so, despite all that had happened. “I…don’t know what to do.” His heart said to go, to leave all the ugliness behind, but at the same time, this town was the only home he’d ever known.

Sheriff Trent reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “I know. It’s hard. But I think you should go. You’ll have a better chance at a good life outside of this town, away from all the memories.”

“You think so?”

“I do. Ain’t nothing keeping you here with Lynny gone.”

Rynn shut his eyes over tears that threatened. He’d gotten good at not crying, though, somewhere over the last week. Lynny would have told him not to. Lynny would have wanted him to get out of the county she considered hideous and backward. She would have jumped at the chance he was being given and not had a second thought. He nodded and opened his eyes. “Okay. Thank you, sheriff.”

Trent patted his arm and gave him a curt nod. “You’re welcome, son.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope, which he handed to Yolan. “Here’s that letter for Rynn.”

“Excellent.” Her smile was back as she drew him aside. “Is there anything else…?”

Rynn missed what else she might have been saying to the sheriff. Without her there, the space between him and the judge came alive with…something. He had an insane urge to step closer so he could brush against the man.

The judge smiled, then winked and offered Rynn the second glass he held. “Have a drink.”

Rynn took the glass and mirrored how the judge sipped. He had to close his eyes to enjoy the pleasant burn of perhaps the finest spirits he’d ever tasted.

He felt a little like a colt breaking free from the paddock with the gate closing unheard behind him.

********************

Click here for the site’s main webpage on Sursein Judgment.

Pairing: m/f/m, m/m

Available in ebook from Loose Id

Sequel to One For The Team but could probably stand on its own.

This’ll be Jason and Davey’s story. What, you might ask? Aren’t they straight? Well, that’s what Jason thought, anyway. Davey, as usual, has other ideas.

BLURB (subject to change):

Others might be fooled into thinking Davey is just a computer nerd, but Jason knows better. He knows his geeky best friend is wicked to the core. So, he shouldn’t be surprised when Davey lures him into a threesome on the night of their friends’ wedding. Two guys and one girl turns out to be a pretty terrific thing, especially when watching Davey have sex is almost as exciting as knowing Davey is watching him. And the girl doesn’t seem to mind either.

One threesome leads to more, but then something changes. Now, when Davey touches him, it’s a whole new ballgame. Jason likes it…a lot, and he likes it even more when they try sex without the girl. Who knew?

But Jason’s troubles are just beginning. He sees newfound depths in their friendship. Depths he’s willing to explore. Too bad Davey doesn’t feel the same.

The past has taught Davey that happily ever after doesn’t exist and Jason is afraid he’ll never be able to change Davey’s mind.

Will Jason be able to convince his stubborn friend that true love is possible for their two man team?

Read an excerpt

Cover by Christine Griffin

Nummy, huh? Don’t you just want to bite that butt? *gnashes teeth*

If nothing fails, Devon Cream should be out Friday, Feb 20th in ebook format from Aspen Mountain Press.

AMP page here

Book info

Excerpt

Bravo! Brava! is available now

More information at MLR Press

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This is a cool anthology with the common themes being m/m, theatre and cross dressing. Kimberly Gardner and JP Bowie are the other authors.

My story is going to be about Shawn, a talented but flighty college actor–one of my “cute young things”–and Roscoe, the gorgeous, gay professor/director who pushes him to his limits.

ANTHOLOGY BLURB:

Lights, Makeup, Scripts, Costumes . . . Performances! Jet Mykles, J.P. Bowie and Kimberly Gardner entertain us with the magic and mystique of the theatre. From Shakespeare’s gender-bending comedies to the glamour of a Musical Revue, we’re whisked backstage for an intimate glimpse of the drama, romance and rumors (and maybe even a little mystery) behind the curtain. Find out what it takes for a man to carry off a skirt and heels. Follow the men who wait in the wings for those behind the fake breasts and makeup. BRAVO! BRAVA!

Read the excerpt

Released February 2009 from MLR Press

Pairing: m/m

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Single ebook at MLR Press >>>>>

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Available in print at Barnes & Noble – anthology

Available in ebook at Barnes & Noble – anthology

This is a very cool anthology. Kimberly Gardner and JP Bowie are the other authors.

A little bit of cross dressing action. This excerpt isn’t exactly sexy maybe, but I think it gives a nice idea of the dynamic between Shawn and Roscoe before the true romance starts.

BTW, Shawn is in COLLEGE so he’s old enough to be in one of my stories.

BLURB:

Switch roles? Roscoe may be a brilliant director, but Sean wants no part of this crazy idea. But when Roscoe suggests that Sean and his leading lady swap Beatrice for Benedict in their college’s production of Much Ado About Nothing, everyone else thinks it’s a terrific idea. Trapped by peer pressure and the awareness that Roscoe usually knows what he’s doing, Sean accepts the challenge only to quickly discover that he likes wearing skirts, both on and off stage. Even more than that, he likes the director’s reaction when he flashes a little leg.

*******************************

©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Bonnie held Shawn’s upper arms, staring down into his eyes. “With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest / I love thee.”

Shawn clutched at her elbows, lowering his gaze and twisting his head to the side, facing the audience. “Why, then, God forgive me!”

Bonnie cupped Shawn’s jaw with her palm, urging his face upward. “What offence, sweet Beatrice?”

“You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to / protest I loved you.” Shawn let his voice go breathy just before raising his eyes to meet Bonnie’s.

She put her arms around him, pulling him closer. “And do it with all thy heart.”

He put his arms around her, smiling. “I love you with so much of my heart that none is / left to protest.”

Bonnie leaned down, tilting her head for the kiss.

“Stop.”

They both froze at the sound of Roscoe’s voice.

Sighing, Shawn shared a suffering look with Bonnie, then stepped out of her embrace to face Roscoe.

He scowled over the table at them. “Do it again.”

Ted sat behind him but wasn’t paying much attention, his head bent over the student desk, probably doing his homework. No one else was present to witness the incessant tries of the two actors to attain the satisfaction of their director. They’d repeated this particular bit at least seven times so far by Shawn’s count. That was in addition to the emotion exercises Roscoe had put them through for the first hour of rehearsal. The scene was the emotional apex of the play, the moment when Beatrice and Benedick break through years of rivalry to take a chance and bare their souls. Both Bonnie and Shawn were putting their hearts into it, wanting to get it right. But that wasn’t enough for Roscoe.

Shawn grimaced, scrambling for the cool he’d lost about a half hour ago. “You gonna let us finish this time?”

“Are you going to put some feeling into it this time?”

He crushed handfuls of his long blue rehearsal skirt in his fists. “What the hell do you think I was doing?”

Roscoe crossed his arms, pique showing through his usual calm. “That’s a good question. Care to answer it?”

“Fuck you, man. I’m doing my best.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen you do better when you’re jerking off in class.”

Shawn turned to face the blinded windows to the side of the room rather than face Roscoe. “What the hell am I doing wrong this time?” Because it seemed to be him. Roscoe had a few notes for Bonnie but not nearly the criticism he had for Shawn.

“You haven’t corrected anything so my answer would be the same.”

“I was softer,” Shawn growled around gritted teeth.

“That’s not what I asked for.”

“I didn’t bite her head off.”

“Slight improvement.”

“What do you want from me?”

Roscoe’s eyes narrowed. “Are you afraid of him?” He pointed to Bonnie.

Shawn sighed, a hand raised to cover his eyes. “Not this again.”

“Yes. This again.”

“Why would I be afraid?”

“You should be.”

Shawn spun, starting to pace. “What the hell for?”

Bonnie scooted to the back of the open area, watching.

Roscoe stood, rounding the table to stand beside it. “He’s a man.”

Since reason had deserted him an hour ago, Shawn blurted what he really thought. “He’s not much bigger than me. I’ll kick his ass.”

“That’s a man’s argument, not a woman’s.”

“This is Beatrice. She’d totally kick ass.”

“Beatrice talks a good game. Yes, she’d say she’d kick Benedick’s ass but he’s a veteran of wars. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars… a good soldier too… a lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honorable virtues.” Words spilled out in that trained voice, impossible to ignore. “But she knows she’s not up to the task. O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart / in the market-place. She knows she can’t do what a man can.”

A chair at the side of the open area rattled away from him. He’d kicked it. He kind of realized that after it happened. “Yeah, I know, but Beatrice isn’t scared of him. He’s never hurt her. As much as he’s done, he’s never hurt her.”

“But he can. Beatrice would deny it, but she is a woman of her times. A woman. And a woman of her times, like it or not, rail against it or not, would be at least a little afraid of a veteran soldier.”  Roscoe took off his glasses and set them on the table then turned to approach Shawn. “She would have to respect that he had fought in wars. She would have to respect that he is a soldier and a lord.”

A frustrated cry burst from Shawn’s throat. “I don’t get it.” He kicked at another chair, frustration and confusion flaming behind his eyelids as his fists pulled at the sturdy fabric of his skirt. “You don’t want me to cower, do you?”

“No. I want you to use all that anger you’re feeling right now.”

“Fuck you!” Shawn whirled on him, dropping his handfuls of cloth to curl his fingers into claws. “You told me not to bite her head off.”

Roscoe’s eyes blazed as he faced Shawn from just a few paces away. When had he taken off the glasses? “You’re a woman and she’s a soldier.”

Shawn thumped his own chest. “This is Beatrice. She’s one of Shakespeare’s biggest bitches. Soldier or not, she’d kick him in the balls.”

“Not true.” Roscoe advanced, shoulders hunched slightly like a stalking predator. “She’d kick another man in the balls. She wouldn’t kick Benedick. She loves him. You’re about to say that.”

Shawn set his feet apart, skirt whirling as he snapped his hands up to his head and let out a loud, frustrated scream. “I don’t get what you want!” He tore at his hair. “First you tell me to be softer, then you tell me to be angry, what the fuck…?”

Strong hands gripped his arms. Instinctively, he reared back, lashing out, but Roscoe was a lot quicker than Shawn would have suspected. With humiliating ease, Roscoe spun Shawn around, pinning back to chest, steely arms banded around Shawn’s chest and arms, restraining him. Holy shit, he’d never realized just how big Roscoe was.

“I want you to feel helpless,” Roscoe hissed in his ear, pressing his weight against Shawn’s back, straining the smaller man’s knees.

Shawn froze, staring blindly at the dusty floor beneath his feet, overcome by Roscoe’s heat. The man stood more than a head taller and he was far more muscular than he looked.

“I want you to know deep in your heart that no matter what you do, no matter how hard you fight-” he gave Shawn a hard shake for emphasis, “-no matter how much you rant, you’re never going to win. You’re never going to overcome. You can’t. You’re helpless. You’re physically ineffectual. That’s Beatrice’s tragedy and that’s her burden to bear. She has the will of a lion in the body of a lamb.”

To his horror, Shawn realized he was shaking. He wasn’t scared. Not exactly. But Roscoe had him trapped. It was as exhilarating as it was frightening. He let his body sag a little, making himself heavy. Roscoe tightened his grip, fully supporting Shawn’s weight. Easily supporting him.

Roscoe spoke into his ear, tone harsh as a leather belt closing around Shawn’s neck. “She knows Benedick probably won’t hurt her, but they both know he can. And without much effort on his part. She knows that if he did, he’d probably get away with it.” Leaving one arm around Shawn’s torso to support him, Roscoe slid the other hand up and around to the back of Shawn’s head to grip a handful of hair. Ruthlessly, he tore at it, twisting Shawn’s head around so they were almost face-to-face. The muscles of Shawn’s neck strained. “You. Are. Helpless. And you hate it. You will rail against it. But it’s a fundamental fact that you must accept.”

Shawn swallowed, overwhelmed by Roscoe’s strength, his nearness. The man’s dark, spicy scent surrounded him, as tangible as his arms and grip. Roscoe was all around him, pressed against him.

Black eyes bore into his from underneath half-lowered lids. “You get it now?”

************************************

Click here for the site’s main page on About Something

Pairing: m/m, m/f

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

Available in ebook from Barnes & Noble

For those who’ve been waiting for an m/m relationship in the elves’ world, your wait is over. It’s not ALL m/m, but Kinig, the main character, is gay. It’s not ALL m/m, but there’s a healthy portion of it.

BLURB:

To Kinig, the dark elves represented everything wonderful and mysterious in the world. If he could become the expert about the elves, his bardic career would be set. It would be dangerous. The elves were known for their dislike of human males. But times had changed and his request to live among the elves for a time was granted, and Kinig was given into the care of Fallil, a bard among the elves.

Fallil didn’t expect to fall in love, but he did. What began as friendship grew into love, and abiding passion. But Fallil knew he had to let Kinig go fulfill his dreams if the two were ever to be truly happy.

Nine cycles of seasons later, Kinig has realized his dreams of fame and is known over two continents as Kinig of the Dark Elves, the one human who knows as much as the raedjour themselves. Now, his thoughts stray back to the man he loves and it is time to return to the Dark Forest.

It’s Kinig’s knowledge that brings him to the attention of a solitary mage who holds the last red elf in his thrall. The red elf, Nialdlye comes to care for Kinig and sees in his stories a possible solution for her own problems. Can the two together break free of the mage’s power and make their way back to Fallil?

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©2008 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Rhicard knocked, and the door was opened by a youth. Kinig caught his breath. Yes, all of the elves were stunning, but this one… He stood perhaps a hand shorter than Kinig, with a rounder face than any of the others Kinig had encountered. Not round by human standards, but a softness of curves that gave him a young, vaguely feminine look. Expressive silver eyes twinkled under finely arched white brows, assessing Kinig even as he was assessed. The frank look forced Kinig to reevaluate his initial impression of youth. The thick white silk of his hair was unbound, falling heavily down his bare back and over one shoulder, tucked behind delicately pointed ears, both of which were pierced with silver all along the edge to the tip. Short white trousers were gathered just below his knees and tied low at his hips. No footwear to hide at least three sparkling silver rings around delicate toes. Kinig had never beheld another male wearing so much jewelry.

“You would be Kinig,” he said in a marvelously musical tenor. He stepped back and drew his free arm back in a dramatic sweep. “Please, enter.”

Kinig glanced at Rhicard, who nodded. Kinig obeyed. The room was sparsely furnished, with everything from the narrow tables to the two couches and chairs hugging the walls. This left the bare floor of the center of the room completely empty. As the door was closed behind him, Kinig noted drums of various sizes sitting on the floor, a lute on the table, a strange-looking stringed instrument on one couch, and a number of wind instruments hanging within a cabinet fastened to the wall.

Rhicard spoke from just behind his left shoulder. “Kinig, this is Fallil. Fallil, as you may have guessed, is an entertainer.”

His gaze was drawn to the smaller man. “Entertainer?” Not bard?

The delightful burble of Fallil’s laughter settled over them as he waved them further into the room. “Bard, dancer, actor — I do it all. I’ve sought to fascinate and entertain most of my life.”

And succeeded marvelously, for all Kinig could see. Certainly his own attention was captivated by the slim man who busily rearranged the instruments lying about, clearing the couch. Although somewhat androgynous, there was no doubting he was male. His chest was slim, but the muscles were well defined, tapering in to a narrow waist and a sweet, round little bottom that seemed to defy gravity within his trousers.

Rhicard tapped Kinig’s shoulder, regaining his attention. “This is where I leave you.” Grinning, he nodded toward Fallil. “Fallil is your sponsor. Savous thought, since you are both musicians, you’d have some basis in common. Also, other than perhaps two or three others alive, Fallil knows more about our history than anyone. And his manner of relating what he knows is a lot more fun than most of the rest of us.”

Kinig laughed at the teasing note in Rhicard’s voice.

Fallil appeared beside them to smile up at Rhicard. “You flatter me.”

Rhicard brushed a fond, familiar hand down the other man’s bare shoulder. “Not a bit.”

Kinig blinked, wondering what, if anything, he should read into that touch. Most likely, nothing. He had to remember that the raedjour were very sensual, tactile beings. He’d seen this watching them during the talks with the baron, knowing they restrained themselves due to the situation. Here, there was no reason for restraint. He was in a different world.

Rhicard’s attention was on him again. “I’ll see you soon, Kinig.” Then to Fallil, “Send word if you need me.”

“Only then?” Fallil called after him as he closed the door, smiling. That same smile turned to Kinig. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? You’ve had a long trip.”

He knew that he should be, but he was far too excited to think of something like food. “I’m a little thirsty.”

“Of course you are.” Elegant black hands reached for Kinig’s lute. “May I?”

Enchanted by this gorgeous, very polite creature, Kinig handed over his prized possession.

Fallil handled it with appropriate care. “Set your bag down and, please, sit.”

Kinig did as he was told, settling on a couch as Fallil laid the lute case on the table and opened it. He drew out the instrument and studied it with a critical eye. Kinig watched closely. The lute had been his grandfather’s. It was old but had been lovingly taken care of both by him and his mother’s father. Fallil stroked the neck, inspected the belly and frets, and carefully plucked each string to hear its sound.

Finally, he nodded, laying the instrument down atop its case. “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.”

He turned toward a side cabinet that held a tray with a pitcher and matching goblets. “Do you play anything else?”

“I play a little harp, but I’m not much practiced.”

Pouring a cup, Fallil glanced at a medium-sized harp in the corner. “Perhaps we can change that.” He tossed a blinding smile over his shoulder. “Eh?”

Was he blushing? Kinig wouldn’t have thought he was capable anymore, not since losing his innocence to a young guardsman many cycles ago. “I’d like that.”

Fallil crossed the room to hold out the small goblet to Kinig. “Now, what has Rhicard told you?”

“That you’re to be my sponsor.”

“Is that all?”

“He explained that it was necessary because not all of the raedjour agree with my presence.”

Fallil nodded, folding gracefully onto the couch beside Kinig. “Yes. But there’s more to it than that.” He rested his arm on the back of the couch, bent at the elbow to prop his temple on his palm. “How much do you know about our society, in relation to humans?”

Kinig sipped the light, fruity wine rather than drink in the shimmer of candlelight on bare onyx skin. “I know that you welcome human women to join you. That you have a spell you can cast to change them into one of you. I know you’re fertile with only one woman ever and that that match is called a truematch. In the past, you kidnapped human women and kept them against their will, but the rhaeja has banned this practice.”

“You know much.” A heavy cascade of smooth, snowy hair bisected Fallil’s chest, a few shining strands hooking around an erect nipple. “Please continue.”

Kinig swallowed a large gulp of wine. “It’s said that there are no other women among you but the humans you converted, but people don’t know whether to believe that or not.”

“No?”

“No.” Kinig shifted, all too aware of the bright silver eyes fastened on him.

“What about human men?”

Kinig shifted in his seat, the soft shirt underneath his jacket suddenly chafing the skin of his chest. “In your history, you killed human men for sport. You allowed very few to pass through the Dark Forest ever, and those only if they stayed on the known roads. Even now, it’s dangerous for a man to travel the forest, even with a sanctioned caravan.”

Through this, Fallil continued to study him, a small smile curving generous lips. Long black fingers toyed with a frayed seam on his trousers. “Yet you asked to come here.”

Kinig’s cock pulsed in time with his heart. He could rarely contain himself in the presence of handsome human men. Seated in private with this exotically beautiful creature, he had no prayer of controlling himself. “I did.”

“May I ask why?”

“I want to learn more about you.”

“So you can write songs about us and become famous?”

Kinig smiled, nervous. “Well, that too. But I am curious.”

“And you realized coming here might be dangerous.”

“I was willing to take that chance.”

Fallil lifted his head, freeing his arm to straighten across the back of the couch. His fingertips feathered over Kinig’s shoulder, barely felt through the thick wool. “And if we never let you go?”

Kinig blinked, then stared at the empty floor in the center of the room. “I…”

“You hadn’t thought of that possibility?”

“No.” He’d thought of death, he’d thought of denial, but it had not occurred to him that the elves would keep him. “I…why?”

Fallil leaned toward him slightly. A lock of white hair dislodged from behind his ear to spill over his smooth cheek. “Let me tell you a truth. We have kept human men in the past. Many, in fact. But only a few survive.” Fallil’s fingertips traced Kinig’s collar, so close to the bare skin of his neck. “Unlike for women, there is no spell to convert a human male. It’s been tried, and it has failed, killing the subject.”

Distracted by the almost touch, Kinig swallowed again. “What do you do with the men that you keep?” He’d heard of such things in other lands, but only in whispered tales of dubious origin.

Fallil edged a little closer to Kinig’s side. “We keep them. We toy with them.” A delicate stroke of warm fingers over his rapidly beating pulse. “We have enormous sexual appetites. Our goddess bred us that way.” One finger traced the hinge of Kinig’s jaw just below his ear. “Since there are so few women, there isn’t a man among us who doesn’t know the pleasures of another man.” Fingertips brushed along his neatly trimmed beard toward his chin, those silver eyes tracking the progress. “Some of us prefer it.”

Kinig shuddered, giving up resistance by leaning into the touch. Fallil closed the distance between them, nimbly catching the goblet about to fall from Kinig’s slack fingers. “Was Savous right about you, Kinig?” His fingers carded back into Kinig’s hair, taking hold and turning the bard’s head so they were face to face. Kinig’s lips sighed open as the other man’s obsidian lips came closer. “Kinig?”

“Yes?”

“Are you a lover of men?”

“Yes.”

Those gorgeous lips curled into a smile, revealing small teeth of a white to rival his hair, brows, and ridiculously long lashes.

Kinig moaned as the slightly smaller man used his grip on Kinig’s neck to brace himself as he gracefully swung one leg over Kinig’s thighs to straddle his lap. Keeping control of the bard’s head, he leaned to the side to place Kinig’s cup on the table beside the couch.

“This isn’t something most human men find pleasant,” Fallil continued as he settled his firm rump on Kinig’s thighs. “Or, rather, allow themselves to enjoy.” With his other hand, he parted the front of Kinig’s jacket, drawing on the string that kept his undershirt closed. Kinig glanced down, gratified to see a bulge that stood testament to Fallil’s arousal. At least they were both sporting erections. “In fact, it drives most men who prefer women to insanity. It bothers them when they feel the attraction toward us, when they can’t help but want to suck cock and feel another tunnel deep into their ass.”

Kinig couldn’t breathe. His heart raced. Unable to help himself, he slid his hands up the firm muscles of Fallil’s thighs until he could sink his fingertips into the meat of the other’s ass. Firm, tight, demanding to be worshipped.

Fallil smiled, sliding his hand within Kinig’s shirt to find the bare skin of his chest. “I can tell that this won’t be a problem for you.”

********************************

Click here to visit the site’s main page on Dark Elves V: Discovery

Pairing: m/m

Available in ebook from Loose Id

Available in ebook from ARe

Available in ebook from Fictionwise

Available in ebook from Barnes & Noble

This is a re-release of the story that originally came out from another publisher. Same story, new cover, new editing.

BLURB:

It’s rather ironic, isn’t it, that Kyle plans to steal the papers that will free him from the life of a thief? What’s even more ironic, or maybe not ironic but downright annoying, is that they’re already gone.

And now the papers are in the hands of the one man who has ever been able to put Kyle off his game. Seth, the absolutely gorgeous hunk of a man that Kyle can’t figure out his attraction to. He’s not gay. He’s never wanted sex with a guy. But he can’t stop looking at Seth.

To his surprise, Seth’s real nice about the papers. He promises not to turn them, or Kyle over. He’ll even give them to Kyle, if Kyle will just come home with him. Obviously Seth’s up to something, but what?

Read an excerpt

Cover art by PL Nunn

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REVIEWS

• Literary Nymphs – 4 Nymphs
  • “….a very impressive story of two men discovering love together with a promise of an intriguing life.”
  • Reviewed by Chocolate Minx

• Fallen Angel Reviews – 5 Angels
  • “The interactions between the two men, the sensuous sex scenes, the tension both in the bedroom and out, the secrets uncovered, all add up to one fantastic story that I loved staying up to read.”
  • Reviewed by Hayley

• eCataRomance Sensual Reviews – 4 Stars
  • “No matter what Ms. Mykles writes, she captures the imagination.”
  • Reviewed by Kimberley Spinney

• Romance Junkies – 4 Blue Ribbons
  • “…a great option when you’re in the mood for a compact romance between two heroes who know what they want, and aren’t afraid to go after it.”
  • Reviewed by Kym H

• Rainbow Reviews – 3.5 stars
  • “…he author’s gift for prose, dialogue and instantly appealing characters will keep you happy that you read it.”
  • Reviewed by Kassa

Pairing: m/f; m/m; m/m/f; f/f; m/m/m/f

Available in ebook  from Loose Id

Available in ebook from ARe

Available for Kindle from Amazon

Available in ebook from Fictionwise

This book will complete the main arc started with Dark Elves I: Taken. It’s been a long road and the elves have gone through some trying times. This book isn’t any exception. It’s definitely the longest book in the series, the longest I’ve written to date.

Many have asked if I’m done with the elves now. I kind of doubt it but I don’t have anything planned for them right now. But I’ve spent a lot of time in their world now. Would be kind of a shame to leave it forever.

BLURB:

As the first girl child born to the dark elves, Eryhaen is rhaejena—princess—and desired by all of the men around her. Born with magical gifts that challenge even the most experienced sorcerers among her people, she has the awe of her people and the devotion of her three best friends and lovers. Brevin, Lanthan and Tykir have been at her side their whole lives and each of the three young men would do anything for her and each other.

But Eryhaen needs more than untutored if eager lovers. She is out of control, and she knows it. Her magic is raw and wild, and she is not the only one who’s started to see her as a danger.

She needs help.

The only possibility is Radin, a legendary sorcerer, returned from the dead but magically unconscious for a quarter of a century. Dreams and undeniable instincts tell her that he’s the solution to her problems, if she can only wake him up.

Once she does, what then? He may be the answer to her problems, but is the legendary lover the man for her? Or is he meant for someone else?

Cover art by Anne Cain

Read an excerpt

Best Paranormal Book 2009:
Runner Up: Dark Elves 6: Awakening (Jet Mykles-Loose Id)

Best Erotic Book 2009:
Runner Up: Dark Elves 6: Awakening (Jet Mykles-Loose Id)

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REVIEWS

• Literary Nymphs – 4 nymphs
  • “….wonderful mixture of action, suspense, and erotic encounters that will make you do a double take.”
  • Reviewed by Scandalous Minx

• Love Romances and More – 4 hearts
  • “I highly recommend this series for those who enjoy sinfully sexy elves and a storyline that continues to keep you enthralled.”
  • Reviewed by Dawn

• Just Erotic Romance Reviews – 5 stars
  • “Readers who enjoy complex, well-fleshed out characters with both good and bad qualities amid an excellent plot should pick up Awakening.”
  • Reviewed by Laura Scott

• Night Owl Reviews – 4.5 of 5 hearts / reviewers top pick
  • “This is a spectacular finish to this story arc.”
  • Reviewed by Vallerianna

Pairing: m/f; m/m

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook at Fictionwise

Available in print at Amazon

Available in print at Barnes & Noble

Available in ebook from Barnes & Noble

You’ll note a new cover artist. I’m so very pleased to get Anne to do the covers for the ebook series given the delicious covers she did for the print books.

The interior illustrations are still by yours truly.

BLURB

To Kinig, the dark elves represented everything wonderful and mysterious in the world. If he could become the expert about the elves, his bardic career would be set. It would be dangerous. The elves were known for their dislike of human males. But times had changed and his request to live among the elves for a time was granted, and Kinig was given into the care of Fallil, a bard among the elves.

Fallil didn’t expect to fall in love, but he did. What began as friendship grew into love, and abiding passion. But Fallil knew he had to let Kinig go fulfill his dreams if the two were ever to be truly happy.

Nine cycles of seasons later, Kinig has realized his dreams of fame and is known over two continents as Kinig of the Dark Elves, the one human who knows as much as the raedjour themselves. Now, his thoughts stray back to the man he loves and it is time to return to the Dark Forest.

It’s Kinig’s knowledge that brings him to the attention of a solitary mage who holds the last red elf in his thrall. The red elf, Nialdlye comes to care for Kinig and sees in his stories a possible solution for her own problems. Can the two together break free of the mage’s power and make their way back to Fallil?

Read an excerpt

Cover art by Anne Cain.

**********************

REVIEWS

• Just Erotic Romance Reviews – 4 stars
  • “If you’re a Dark Elves fan you won’t be disappointed with Jet Mykles latest offering Discovery”
  • Reviewed by Ann Barber

• Literary Nymphs Reviews – 4.5 Nymphs
  • “I can’t say there was a dull moment in this new book.”
  • Reviewed by Scandalous Minx

• eCataromance Sensual – 5 Stars
  • “…a panty-slicking, sexy, artistic masterpiece sure to leave her existing fans ecstatic and have newly converted fans rushing to purchase the first four books in the series.”
  • Reviewed by Keely Skillman

• Love Romances & More – 4 hearts
  • “Ms. Mykles keeps delivering more stories that capture the readers’ attention from the first page to the last. Each story is like a glistening painting, with characters that step off the pages and into the spotlight. Ms. Mykles writing just keeps getting better with each book.”
  • Reviewed by Dawn

• Fallen Angels Reviews – 5 Angels
  • “…a very enjoyable read that I couldn’t put down.”
  • Reviewed by Hayley

• Joyfully Reviewed – Recommended Read
  • “The many surprises, elements of suspense and the love of Dark Elves gives me no other choice but to make Discovery a recommended read.”
  • Reviewed by Jo