With his sights set on a bright red sports coupe, Jack pulls into Happy Jack’s Used Car Lot hoping to get a good trade-in for his old clunker, Junior, and encounters a very persuasive salesman who convinces him to buy a van. Unsure of his decision at first, Jack quickly finds that the van is much more than transportation. For him and his friends, the less than impressive looking vehicle becomes their wheels of fortune!
Buying a van was the last thing on Jack’s mind when he pulled into Happy Jack’s Used Car Lot one hot August Saturday afternoon. He had planned and saved all summer to get a little sport coupe that would get him back and forth to campus. Junior, as he called his old clunker, just wouldn’t handle another year of the wear and tear of the daily trek. It barely got him around town as he delivered pizza for Angelo’s Pizza every night. Time had taken its toll on the old vehicle and it was time to move on.
At least twice a week Jack had driven past the lot and yesterday he spied a shiny red Chevy for $3000.00. He had risen early, showered, shaved, and pulled out a pair of good dress slacks and one of his few ironed shirts. “Dress to impress” was one of his mottos and if he were to get a good deal, he knew he had to impress the salesman.
He turned into Happy Jack’s lot and parked Junior on the side of the building. He climbed out of the car, adjusted his shirtsleeves, and headed directly over to the red Chevy. He was examining the body when a very proper-looking salesman arrived.
“Hi, I’m Sam,” he said, shaking Jack’s hand as he handed him a business card with the name Sam Devlin on it. “Can I help you?” he asked, looking Jack directly in the eyes.
“Sure can. I’m Jack. What’s your bottom price on this one?” He absently gazed back at the hazel eyes of the salesman.
“No, no – your bottom price, not your asking price,” Jack replied.
Jack watched him slowly turn and start to walk away. “I really had my heart set on this Chevy. It looks like it would be great for getting me back and forth to classes at State,” Jack said.
“State? You’re going to State? I went to State six years ago.”
Jack liked the enthusiasm he suddenly heard in Sam’s voice. His hopes rose. Maybe there was still hope of a deal on the Chevy.
“Listen,” Sam continued with a little more animation in his voice and eyes, “You really don’t want a sports coupe for that commute. Trust me. You’re taking the interstate back and forth and the cops love to nail guys in sports cars. Think of something a little less flashy. I have the perfect vehicle for you. It’s a cream colored van. The body’s great, the engine runs perfectly, and there’s a lot of room in the back, if you catch my meaning.”
“A van? I don’t think so.”
“Just take a look at it.”
“I guess it won’t hurt to look,” Jack said. He followed Sam into the garage and he couldn’t help noticing how broad the man’s shoulders were and the fact that his muscles bulged under his white shirt. He thought to himself, “Wonder what he’d be like in bed.” He shook his head quickly to banish the sex fantasy and get his mind back on the reality at hand.
“Hey, Joe!” Sam hollered. “The van finished yet?”
Dressed in a mechanic’s blue coveralls, a man on a dolly rolled himself out from under the Bronco he was repairing and Jack’s mouth dropped wide open. This guy was an Adonis, even covered in garage grease. In another quick private fantasy, Jack could see himself dropping to the greasy floor with this god of a man.
“Yeah, I just finished it. It’s as good as new.”
The mechanic rolled himself back under the Bronco, leaving only his legs and pelvis visible. Jack swallowed hard and hoped Sam had noticed nothing.
Jack walked over to the van and was surprised by it. He was impressed by the captain’s chairs and all the options included. “Go ahead, climb in, get the feel of it!” Jack climbed in and perched himself behind the wheel. It was the first time he had ever been in a van and the feeling was strange, but he liked the sensation of being so high up. Sam walked up to the open window. “We could take it for a test drive.” Sam slapped plates on the van and climbed inside.
Jack was silently amazed at the ease with which the van handled. He turned onto the interstate, added a little more gas, and marveled at the smoothness of the ride.
Sam was quick to speak up. “A nice thing about a van is all the extra leg room. A passenger can really stretch out,” and he stretched his legs out longer and wider apart. “Feels good to stretch out. Never feel cramped.” His hand reached over to Jack. “You feeling a bit cramped?”
“Go for it,” Jack smiled warmly. “Hell of a way to make a sale, but I like the approach.”
“There’s a rest area a half mile up the road. Why not pull over? Then I could really show you the advantages of a van, like all the space in the back, since there’s no third seat.”
Jack flipped on the turn signal, shifted to the right-hand lane, and pulled onto the exit ramp.
“Wheels of Fortune,” a new erotic romance novel by Duncan More, is available from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, All Romance ebooks, Kobo ebooks, and the Apple iBookstores. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
When President Alvarez dies unexpectedly, Enry Pruitt is forced into the foreground where he fears his long held secret may be exposed. The new president is gay, and the object of his affection is an officer in the armed forces of which he is commander-in-chief. Navigating his way through the rough seas of a country in crisis, the inexperienced young president must deal not only with his desires, but with a trail of horrendous atrocities from an unknown assailant as well. When an old friend tries to locate him, Enry fears that a lost weekend in Singapore years ago may threaten his career and so much more.
Greg Downs crashed into the Newark City diner and crumbled his large frame into a booth. The world was spinning around him with adrenalin pumping out of proportion. He managed to order a cup of coffee from the waitress who wondered if he was on an acid trip. His breathing was labored and he wasn’t sure if he was in the grip of a panic attack. Newark was used to street people living on the edge of sanity. They were merely ignored, and for this moment in time, Greg was grateful that he was blending in. Waves of nausea held him hostage, and he struggled to maintain some kind of poise in the tiny little world of his booth. The mug of coffee arrived and he couldn’t keep his trembling hands around it long enough to lift it to his lips. Thankfully, the waitress had thought to bring him some ice water, and he put his head down to the glass to sip on the liquid coolness. He was hyperventilating and the diner was growing dimmer and dimmer in his vision. Everything was a blur when he finally passed out in his booth, overcome by excitement and the thrill of the most dangerous escapade of his life. He had just blown up the junior U.S. senator from New Jersey.
“My wife and I met when I was in flight school as a dashing young officer and she was a senior in college. We met in a bar of all places and began dating almost immediately. One of the things I loved about her was that she had a streak of nymphomania running through her. I found her terribly exciting and open to almost anything sexually. A few years into the marriage she confessed that she had no desire to have children, which was contrary to everything we had talked about while we were courting. Then she said she wasn’t satisfied in bed and wanted to experiment with another man in our bed, the three of us. I foolishly agreed to it, and one thing led to another, but I discovered I was fonder of having sex with a man than with my wife.”
Enry sat there enthralled and fascinated, and moved. Michael was opening up his deepest secret and shame, and it drew the president more closely into the mystery of General Michael Shimibura.
“One thing evolved into another, and all I wanted sexually was the pleasure and strength of another man. Valerie’s presence began to turn me off completely. I was away a lot on tours of duty, and after ten years of marriage, we were merely orbiting each other, and I officially moved out. I send her an allowance every month and we agree to live apart until I retire. Mr. President, tell me about President Alvarez.”
The question caught Enry off his usual poise, and Michael could tell that the president’s emotions were rising to the fore. Enry stood up, walked behind the sofa, and put his hands down on the back as he faced Michael to answer the question. Michael watched Enry gather the soul within him to answer a question he had not had the time to deal with in the days since the death of Diego Alvarez.
“Diego, sweet Diego. I can’t imagine a better president. He was genuinely gracious, genuinely kind, and genuinely intelligent. He was a peacemaker. He could bring in members of congress who hated him and they would leave offering to polish his winged-tip shoes. And he was personally gracious towards me.
“Diego was a damned good friend, and I wish he were still president.” He was embarrassed by his emotion but couldn’t contain it. For the first time, he had unearthed his sentiment towards his fallen friend and mentor, and felt exposed by the display of his emotion.
Michael rose from his seat and went to his president. “Mr. President, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal, and you need to get all of this out of you. From the beginning, you have handled this with great purpose, and I was genuinely impressed at your swearing-in ceremony, when you held the head of the chief justice to your chest and comforted him. You are a man of great ability to love.”
Enry could feel Michael’s strong hand massaging his shoulder in comfort.
“Mr. President, Enry, in case you haven’t heard it from anyone lately, you’re a wonderful man and a beautiful human being. The most exciting thing I’ve ever known in life has been the past few weeks with you.”
Enry’s ears melted in the calming voice of Michael Shimibura, and after a shared three bottles of wine, he stepped into the abyss. As he looked into Enry’s eyes, his hands moved to unwrap the presidential belt buckle.
“Enry, don’t say a word. I’ll say it for both of us.”
“Accidental President,” political thriller/romantic suspense by Dominic Lacerva, is available from Apple, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand, All Romance ebooks, Kobo, and Coffeetime Romance. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
“You’re invited to a murder,” the invitation read. Dennis immediately calls 1-800-2 DIE FOR to confirm his acceptance of a weekend in the Poconos, a gift from his friend, Jason. He smiles at his excitement about the affair. Cast in the role of handyman for the weekend, he is certain that he can find something in every cabin in need of a little ‘maintenance.’ The murder mystery weekend is an all gay event that wouldn’t be complete without a few pesky drag queens thrown into the mix of singles and couples. Everything is all fun and games, until the night of the murder when a real murder occurs, making everyone in attendance a suspect.
A limousine was waiting in front of Dennis’ apartment at exactly six o’clock on Friday evening. He climbed into the spacious back as the driver informed him of the options for pleasure available to him – caviar, champagne, television, oysters on the half-shell, and seafood salad. There was another passenger to be picked up before they headed to the resort where the weekend’s game would begin. They traveled north and then turned east to a little hamlet called Holly.
The driver assisted a young man of about twenty-two years of age with his luggage. For only a weekend stay, Dennis thought that four suitcases was a little much. When he entered the rear of the limo, he took a seat across from Dennis, giving him an ample view of his fellow passenger. He was on the effeminate side, with shoulder-length red hair. He believed in enhancing his looks with a layer of make-up, mascara, and eye liner.
“I’ve never been in a limousine before, so I might as well avail myself of everything here.” He took a bottle of champagne, opened it, and poured himself a glass of bubbly. “Name is Billie. That’s spelled with an “i-e” and no “y.”
Dennis hated drag queens. “My name is Dennis. Nothing fancy about the spelling.”
“Well, hi, Dennis. Join me in some bubbly?”
“Might as well.”
A little sissy-type giggle escaped Billie’s throat.
“Well, Dennis, here’s to you. May we both survive the weekend!” Billie raised his glass in a toast. Dennis thought, The guy may be young and femme, but at least he’s got some style. Billie draped his left leg over his right knee and leaned back as the limousine turned onto the highway.
The chauffeur’s voice came over the intercom system. “Gentlemen, I have been instructed to arrive at the lodge at exactly seven-thirty. We have about forty-five minutes of driving ahead of us, so if you need me for anything, just push the intercom button on the left door. Relax and enjoy yourselves as well as the ride.”
Forty-five minutes trapped with a queen. Well, it could be worse, Dennis thought. It could be an hour.
Dennis asked, “What do you want to do now?”
“I’ve never done it in a limousine. You ever had sex in a limo before?”
“No, I can’t honestly say that I have.”
“Well, do you want to? And yes, I’m usually this direct.”
“Sometime before breakfast, one of you will be killed. It is up to the rest of you to unmask the murderer before Sunday noon. Remember that everyone on the premises is a suspect. Catch the culprit…if you can. Good luck. All clues have been planted. It is up to you to discern and evaluate them. And one word of warning, accept nothing and no one at face value. You all have assigned roles to play. Have fun and remember that anything, and I mean anything, goes!”
Jason thought that maybe he could have fun in bed with his ‘wife’ once he realized it was the young man now in full drag who had arrived with Dennis. After all, there were roles to be performed and the young man playing his wife was definitely sexually alluring once he looked past the make-up and the dress. Billie also liked the feeling of Jason’s hand on his nylon-encased thigh.
As Jason left with Billie, his ‘wife’ for the weekend, he gave Dennis a wink. Dennis turned to Carlo, “He’s going to have a good time tonight. Wish I had a video camera in their room.”
Carlo laughed. “Yeah, I’d say that one is going to learn what ‘wifely duty’ means before the night is over.” Carlo rounded the end of the bar and pressed his lips tightly against Dennis’ lips in a fervent kiss.
Dennis inquired, “Your cabin or mine? A bed is better than here on the floor.”
“Invitation to a Murder,” a deviously sexy murder mystery novel by Duncan More, is available from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand, All Romance ebooks, Kobo, Google, Apple, and Coffeetime Romance. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
With long black hair draping down to the small of his back, grey eyes, pectoral muscles with hard pink nipples, a flat stomach, and long toned legs, the Aquarian Angel known as Temptation takes mortal form because he enjoys the sensation of being a beautiful mortal man, and for a reason which only he senses, he knows that something is going to happen this summer in Kip River and he wants to be a part of it. When a young cowboy comes across a group of angels appearing in mortal form as nude men at the edge of the river, they do not run away. They lavish him with kisses and lead him to the angel known as Temptation. Temptation wraps his arms around him, looks into his eyes and smiles. He runs his hands over Shane’s hair and down to his cheek, admiring the hills of his chest. He brings his lips sensually up to Shane’s neck. The seduction of the mortal has begun.
“Go let Temptation know that we have company,” he said.
Shane began to shake in fear, as he believed they were monsters. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“I won’t hurt you, none of us will. Come sit with us,” the angel said while stroking Shane’s chin with the tip of his finger.
The four of them sat against a tree trunk where the ray of sunlight shone down. Up close, Shane noticed how brightly their skin glowed, free of flaws. He had never seen men so beautiful. He had always fantasized about being with three men at the same time but never thought that it would actually happen.
“What is your name?”
“Shane. What are you guys?”
“We are Aquarian Angels, River Angels to be exact,” Sin said unbuttoning a couple of buttons on Shane’s shirt to get a closer look at his chest.
Evil put his arm around Shane and began stroking the side of his face with his fingertips. “We’re not going to harm you.”
Sin began to kiss Shane’s beautiful chest with his soft lips, continuing down to his stomach. Evil brought Shane’s face to his and began to kiss him.
Meanwhile in the river, Temptation took his long hair and began to braid it to squeeze the water out of it. He smiled.
Shane was lost in ecstasy. The mustache above Evil’s lip tickled and brushed against his upper lip, and Sin wanted nothing more than to open the zipper of the cowboy’s jeans, but the mortal wasn’t for him. He was for Temptation who was waiting for him near the river.
“We need to get him to Temptation,” Sin said.
They stopped, leaving Shane wanting so much more.
“There’s someone you must meet. His name is Temptation. He doesn’t speak a word of any language. He is pure lust.” Evil took Shane by the hand. “I’ll take you to him.”
Temptation heard Evil’s footsteps and he let out a lustrous breath causing the tree branches to shake. Evil brought Shane to the bank of the river. “Temptation will meet you here,” he said. As soon as Shane was near the edge of the river, he noticed Temptation standing in the water with his legs apart, his left thumb pulling the waist of his pants down revealing a glimpse of his most intimate self.
“You’re going to love this,” Evil whispered into Shane’s ear.
The seduction of the mortal had begun.
“Aquarian Angels-River,” a shifter romance novel by Justin Kayser, is available from Amazon, Bookstrand, All Romance, Kobo, Google, Apple, Barnes & Noble, and Coffeetime Romance. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
Young and idealistic, Jon and Dave meet by chance, their friendship growing stronger and leading them to a place neither has been before. Though theirs is a love forbidden, which few understand, they journey across the country together and settle in San Francisco, where they are finally free to be together as they were meant to be. When life takes an unexpected turn, however, the two young lovers are torn apart by a secret which, if unveiled, threatens to bring great shame to the family of one determined to keep them on the straight and narrow.
We were lying in bed, deep beneath the blankets, cuddling and watching the secondhand TV with the bent rabbit ears we had rescued from the trash.
He kissed me deeply and passionately as we held each other tightly.
We were a part of each other. Somewhere along the way we had become one.
“Have you ever felt this way before?” I asked.
“No. I’ve been in love before, but never like this.”
“Me either,” I said.
“Not even with Karen?” he asked.
“No, never like this. This is different.”
He lay there next to me, staring into my eyes. We fell asleep in each other’s arms. They were the happiest days of my life, being so young and alive and free, and helplessly in love with Jon.
“I hear there are a lot of weirdoes in San Francisco. That’s where your apartment was, right?”
“Right off of Haight, near Ashbury. That’s where all the hippies used to hang out,” he chuckled.
“Aren’t there a lot of, you know, queers there too?”
Jon became uneasy, “I suppose.”
“Jon, just what are you two doing?”
“What do you mean, Mrs. Sharp?” The uneasiness was turning to dread.
“C’mon Jon, I saw you two in the van.”
“We were just playing around.”
“Kissing each other? Is that what you call playing around?” she continued. “Is that what you did all summer?” she said beginning to cry, “You were…like that? Is that what you want, everyone calling you a queer, a faggot?”
“It’s not like that, Mrs. Sharp…we love each other.”
“You can’t love each other like that, Jon. It’s sick. You’ll both burn in hell. You know his father will disown him. It will kill him to think he has a son like that. It will destroy both of you, and it will ruin your lives forever.” She continued, “If you really love him Jon, you won’t do this. You can still be friends, just not like that.”
“But I don’t have anyone left. I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“The Cove”, a romance novel by D.T. Peterson, is available from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand, All Romance, Kobo, Google, Apple, and Coffeetime Romance. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
Following an over-the-top all gay tour of Europe, Paul settles into his career where he is given free rein to turn rundown properties into gold mines. Thinking outside of the box, he deviates from the norm a little and transforms a desolate place far from the beaten path into a gay resort. With a staff that includes two French hustlers he met in Rome, a blond haired blue eyed Nordic god as a bartender who knows all the right moves, as well as additional staff ready to serve in any capacity, a website where reservations are made at the simple click of a pine tree icon, not to mention the all important lover that Paul met in Europe, NEVADA PINES is born. The premier resort for a romantic weekend, a brief getaway for a night to enjoy the amenities, a discreet hook-up, or a menage with many possibilities, but always classy, NEVADA PINES welcomes you!!
I was approached by two men who asked if I would be so kind as to take their picture. They were both very good looking and while neither would ever be considered as a model for the cover of a physical fitness magazine, they had the most penetrating brown eyes and the longest eyelashes I had ever noticed. When I agreed, they handed me a camera and wrapped their arms around each other’s waist. I snapped but the flash didn’t fire. They quickly fixed the problem and resumed their pose. This time everything worked perfectly. We chatted briefly and I told them I was from California and here having a good time before starting work.
Evidently the term “having a good time” triggered something because they asked if they could be part of a good time.
“What do you mean?” I naively asked.
“Un ménage a trios,” said the one. I checked them out for a few minutes and felt that I would be totally safe, as I was much stronger than they, but I decided against it. Then I saw them pull the same camera routine on three other guys with no success. They were quite good at hustling. It was a unique ploy. As I sat there sipping my coffee, I got to thinking how erotic it would be having two guys at the same time.
Mustering up the rest of my forgotten French, I hollered, “Garcon, ici!”
They ignored me at first, until I pulled out my wallet. They sauntered over slowly, knowing the fish was on their hook. “Hotel Central,” I said.
“Wow” said the quiet one.
When we got to the hotel room, they wasted no time shedding their clothes, and then they began to undress me. It was like a synchronized water ballet the way they moved. When we were done and showered, and the finances taken care of, Philippe seemed eager to depart, but the quiet one refused to get dressed. He flopped back on the bed. “I want more,” Pierre responded in English for my benefit. I obliged. Philippe stood watching for a few minutes and then he came over, climbed on the bed and simply said, “No charge this time.”
Wednesday was the day. Bill was coming. I put clean sheets on the bed, knowing full well they would be destroyed by the next morning. I tidied up everything. I dusted, I vacuumed, I washed, I wiped, I scrubbed. And then it was off to the airport. We were at the terminal by 7:00 p.m. with an hour to wait, which turned into two hours since the plane was held up in Salt Lake City by a severe thunderstorm. I knew the travel gods were teasing me on purpose, increasing my frustration at waiting to see my beloved. But finally there he was – live and in person. I couldn’t wait to get my arms around him in a hug. Right there in the airport, he planted the biggest kiss he could on my lips, and it felt wonderful.
Bill might have been exhausted from eighteen hours of air travel, but he never showed it for a moment. He was as hot for me as I was for him. Barely was the hotel room door closed and a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging on the outside doorknob before the buttons on my shirt went flying across the room as he literally ripped my shirt open. It was pure animal lust between the two of us.
“Nevada Pines”, a new erotic romance novel by Duncan More, is available from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand, All Romance ebooks, Kobo ebooks, and the Apple iBookstores. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
ASSIGNED TO KILL HIM; UNABLE TO RESIST HIM.
I still remember the day the world ended. The newspapers said the same thing. It’s remarkable how many times you hear something before it becomes completely indistinguishable from the truth. ‘The New England town of Tetra, New Hampshire and the Southern California city of Winchester Falls have been decimated due to a viral outbreak of an unidentified protean compound by a clandestine Thanatos terrorist cell known only as ‘The Agency’.’
I had come to Tetra in search of a man named Aristotle Lauder who may have been connected to the Winchester incident. It turns out I was wrong. Having been betrayed by the only man I thought I could trust, I managed to escape the horror.
No one could have imagined the series of events that would follow that horrible night.
Recent terrorist incidents are rumored to be the work of a clandestine group, and a human woman by the name of Eloise Huntington is trying desperately to learn the truth about them – the Thanatos.
A dark conspiracy begins this gripping novel as a powerful computer virus is uploaded to the GRID, the hub of the world’s electronic communications networks, virtually decimating communication across the globe. As the race begins to combat the powerful forces that conspired to bring human civilization to a standstill, Aristotle discovers a secret link to his past in the form of Byron Appleyard, who has been assigned to assassinate him. Falling for the enemy was not supposed to happen.
Isa Delcarmen walked out of the helicopter cabin into the dark stormy night, the cold air whipping at her narrow cheekbones. Behind her, Matthew Christopher was silent as he removed the seat-belt choked around his slim waist. It was almost dark here. The city below was bustling under an ocean of neon advertisements and shimmering street lights. Sports cars raced through the winding streets, their shrill honking only a quiet gasp all the way atop the towering skyscraper.
Three armed guards flanked them as the two visitors walked to the white door near the edge of the helipad. One of them shook Isa’s cool hand. She noticed he was shivering. It had been raining all day here, she heard the chopper pilot mumble. The scientists in front of them nervously typed in a code on a silver keypad to the right of the metallic door. A light on the panel turned green and the group was let inside, one at a time, as the door made an electronic whirring noise. Isa held her breath as the armed guard walked in front of her down the steps inside.
Matthew was silent behind her. His intense gaze peered around the bright white sterile walls of the corridor. He paid attention to everything, noting every detail, every crevice, and every scratch in the otherwise immaculate wall. He had on his fancy brand of aftershave–one that Isa had enjoyed for the duration of the flight despite its arguable toxicity and the even more dubious intention behind it. The smell had filled the tiny helicopter cabin. The morose man had been quiet though for almost the entire flight, which made her anxious. His variable unpredictability was a liability, and nothing could go wrong now. Nothing at all.
Aristotle was sitting erect in a chair as Byron walked in not five minutes after him. It was dark in the room. Byron didn’t make any noise. He watched Aristotle carefully. His feet were still on the hardwood floor beneath him. Dust gently blew across the creaking floorboards as he walked inside.
“Did you know me before?” Aristotle asked.
Byron was silent.
Aristotle continued in a wavering, drunk voice, “You knew who I was. I’ve seen you before. I’ve dreamed about you.” Aristotle spoke as he was putting the pieces together. His eyes flashed excitedly. “You knew I was one of them. You are too.” There were empty whiskey bottles at his feet. He walked over and leaned in to kiss Byron. Byron pushed him away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Aristotle,” Byron murmured quietly.
“You’re-you’re a liar. You’ve known who I was since last year. You’ve been following me, stalking me!” Aristotle shouted. He stood up and walked towards Byron in the dark. The floorboards creaked below him. Dust kicked up below him. Byron’s features were illuminated by the new angle of the light. They were different somehow, twisted by some unseen malign presence in the room. “You did this to me,” Aristotle barked as he grabbed Byron’s face. His eyes were glowing. They were yellow like a reptile’s.
Aristotle stood over him and sneered at him. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. “Why am I like this? Why is this happening to me?”
“What?” Byron asked weakly.
“Becoming this! Becoming this–this thing!” he roared.
“Aristotle: FORTUNE”, science fiction by J.J. Dunford, is available from Apple, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand, Google Play, All Romance ebooks, Kobo ebooks, and Coffeetime Romance. Also available in print. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
When the feared locomotive arrives in the small town, Jet waits at the rundown station to discover the truth about the old iron horse that has long been feared by the townspeople. Coming face to face with a mysterious man dressed all in black, he has a barrage of questions for the lone rider. The quick tempered man is somewhat amused by Jet’s juvenile inquiries but the inquisition does not deter him from his secret mission. Jet’s name is not on the list, but the man in black decides that he will be an amusing distraction. With a little coercion, a friendly dare, and the offer of a train ride to a place he will never forget, the sexy man lures Jet inside.
“So, it’s true. There really is a mystery man aboard this old thing. What’s your name…Jesse James?”
The taunting tone in the young man’s voice caused a familiar stir in the rider’s gut. “No, sir,” he answered. The manner in which the young man stepped back when the rider extended his hand caused a smirk to form on the rider’s lips. He was a fine young man with dark hair and dark eyes. He was fairly tall and well proportioned…not too skinny. The lone rider liked that in a man. He took his time studying the daring young man. He was young enough not to have known many of the pleasures that a man could give him, but he was too bold and cocky for his own good. This was one horse that would need to be broken.
A teasing smile was formed by the thick lips of the young man as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He stood facing the train’s traveler with his hands on his hips and announced proudly, “The name is Jackson, but my friends call me Jet.”
The pride evident in his proclamation made the dark mysterious man laugh, a deep throaty laugh that was clearly meant to be mocking in its tone. “Well, Jet, why are you here?”
“Curious, I guess. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about?”
“Yes, fuss. You should see this little town when this old piece of tin whines and moans its way along the tracks.” He kicked his foot out in a pretend kick to the old train to make his point. “Everyone is so scared of it. They stop in their tracks as if they were struck by lightning. It’s insane.”
The mysterious man rubbed his chin. “Is it?”
The darkly dressed man challenged the younger man. “Well, how about a ride on this old, what did you call it, piece of tin?”
Jet looked down at his feet, rolling the toe of his boot on the cement floor of the station. He couldn’t chicken out now, and the man was mysteriously sexy. He looked up and the dark eyes seemed almost black now as they peered into his own. “Sure, I’ll go.”
It was dark inside the old locomotive. The windows were blackened and Jet could not see a thing. “Make yourself at home. It’s going to be a long ride.”
Photographs of handsome men and beautiful women dressed in formal attire were mounted on the walls along with photographs of Dakta. The photos of Dakta were breathtaking and they captured the man perfectly in everything from formal dress to completely nude. Some of them showed a great deal of discretion, but others detailed everything. Arousal showed in every part of him. The dark brooding eyes were mesmerizing, but it was the body that was a work of art. Dakta’s chest was broad and thick, tapering down to a well toned torso, nearly perfect, as if sculpted. The long legs made Jet’s mouth water as he thought of them intertwined with his own. He returned to the eyes, the intensity so great they appeared to be seeing into him from the photograph.
“Do you own this place?”
“No. This ‘place’ belongs to Miles.”
“Pretty Boy Hunting”, erotic romance by B.J. Scott, is available in the Apple iBookstores, from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand, Sony Reader Store, Google Play, All Romance ebooks, and Kobo ebooks. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
Daniel is young, confident, gay, and fascinated by the wolf, feeling that the animal is a reflection of himself. After losing his boyfriend, the alpha in their relationship, he craves a new alpha and finds Patrick, a handsome thirty year old, at club Trade. When Daniel begins working at the club, he meets a flirtatious blond who introduces him to his world, the unfamiliar world of the furry. Bringing Chad into his relationship with Patrick, Daniel carefully navigates the intricacies of an ongoing threesome while delving deeper into a world he fears, yet feels that he belongs.
Daniel looked into the mirror and liked what he saw: the short hair and angular all-American face as his lean muscles dripped water from the hot shower. The mirror never lied, and that night it told him by reflection that he was hot. Absently, he ran a finger across his smile to feel the teeth below it and stopped at a canine. Playfully, he growled at his image and ran the same hand down his lanky body. He brought his gaze back up to his dark short hair and dark eyes: an animal’s eyes. He wondered if he could have been a wolf in another life and he smiled at the idea of having run naked in the primordial woods. “This time will be different,” Daniel exhaled. He shut out the image of Dean before it overwhelmed him: handsome and blond, dominant and strong, leaving him here all alone for a ship at sea. A cool smile spread across Daniel’s lips. “I will find me a new Alpha.”
The man was a little taller than his own six feet, a little older by about ten years, and Daniel was caught by the man’s brown appraising eyes, barely visible from the long bangs parted to the side.
Intense desire emanated from the man. “What’s your name?”
“Daniel,” Daniel bit his lip, “and yours?”
Daniel curled his lip in an unconscious manner. “What are we doing after this?”
In pure confidence, Patrick moved closer. Daniel felt intimidated and he liked it.
“Taking you home.”
Patrick’s loft was a conversion of two separate apartments, neatly arranged and antiseptic. Daniel, regardless of his initial discomfort, strutted in and eyed the furniture, aware that he was being watched.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“Nah, I’m just…”
“Thinking about your boyfriend?”
Daniel laughed, “No. He went off and left me; not for somebody else, but for the Navy.”
Patrick’s eyes hardened, curious to figure out the guy he had picked up. “Are you really cool with this?”
“You’re the Alpha, you tell me.” Daniel stepped closer and felt the body heat pass between them.
“Alpha,” Patrick was perplexed.
Daniel continued, “I’ve always been fascinated by the wolf pack.”
“I can be your Alpha.”
Images of running naked through the night woods filled Daniel’s excited head. He wanted to say more but could not find the words. “I’m fine with that. I can be a good Beta.”
Dean had returned and was his alpha once again. His apartment was rigid and clean, Navy-neat in efficiency. Daniel cooked, cleaned, and serviced his man in every way possible. Nothing mattered except for his sailor. In a short time, Daniel had lost his connection to his wild side and was completely domesticated. All of his belongings had been left behind in a whim when he walked out on his old life. Nothing he used was his, from the game he played to the clothes he wore. He felt that he too was property of his alpha, and the idea comforted him. Dean had tamed him and he gladly took his place as a beta and settled into an isolated routine. Daniel briefly glanced at his blond master, catching his blue green eyes. They were so like the ocean and just as hypnotic with their pull. The one thing that haunted him was that the animals were still in his head waiting in the dark for the right moment to pounce.
Out of the blue, Dean said he had to go back out to sea, back to the boat where the Navy called him to service. The talk with Patrick on the phone shortly after had been terse. But with the change of events, it was Daniel’s only real option. So he had to tuck his tail between his legs and beg for a place to stay.
“The Trouble With Furries”, gay erotic romance menage by David Sharp, is available in the Apple iBookstores, Amazon, B&N, Sony, Kobo, Bookstrand, All Romance ebooks, and Coffeetime Romance. Available in print from Amazon and B&N. For the iBookstore U.S. link, click on the Cover Above. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
Fletcher Jones can chirp like a bird, grunt like a monkey, sing in nearly every key, and disguise his voice to sound like a woman, but he isn’t dangerous as so many believe. He’s a circus performer who lured a couple of hot studs into his trailer one night. When the men’s wives caught them in the act, they made sure that Fletcher was sent to the infamous Manninger Institute. When he escapes, the quirky carnie eludes the authorities with his many ploys, until the institute’s founder stumbles upon clues as to his whereabouts.
Well hidden by rows upon rows of massive trees stood a residence grand in scale, surrounded by lush green grass, and boasted every amenity any gay man could ever desire. No dress code restricted freedom of spirit, no menu subdued the most delicate of palates, and well, pretty much anything went. There were wedding ceremonies, coming out parties, masquerade balls, and an S&M club for the more adventurous types.
Dr. Mann reclined by the side of the pool and rubbed oil on his body that was not at all in bad shape for a middle aged man. He had inherited his tall lean build from generations of Mann men and the bronze color of his skin had taken years to achieve. He was well aware of the dangers of tanning and skin cancer, but looking good was important to him. Everyone knew that when Dr. Mann presented himself in this manner, with nothing on but his shorts that he wore high up his thighs, the doctor was waiting for someone and no man could resist the doctor. It was an unspoken rule that whoever noticed the doctor first was rewarded with the honor, but on occasion two men would be unable to determine who had been the first to have witnessed the doctor’s arrival, and on those occasions Dr. Mann received the royal treatment.
As he did every day, today Dr. Mann searched the web for some mention of a wayward carnie or a note of strange happenings at a traveling circus. Ah Fletcher, where art thee? The good doctor had nearly given up when he noticed a photograph of a man who had been caught urinating in a park. It had been late at night and ordinarily it wouldn’t have gotten the attention of anyone, but as luck would have it a policeman had caught the poor man in the act. A brief reprimand was all that he had planned until he noticed something very peculiar. After the man had finished, he turned to the officer and smiled. The bright red lipstick was the first clue that something was not quite right, the second clue was that the officer had not seen anything being ‘tucked away’, but the real kicker was the man’s voice. It was high pitched, feminine, and as sweet as a slice of pecan pie. “Excuse me,” the officer said. “Yessiree, officer. How can I help you?” The officer wanted to ask if he was truly a he, or if he was a she, but he was too stunned by the man’s appearance. The man smiled sweetly and turned on the charm, twirling his long hair with his fingers. The officer was certain that the man, or woman, was in need of psychiatric treatment, so he politely offered him a ride to the hospital.
“Renegade”, erotic fiction by B.J. Scott, is available from the Apple iBookstores, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand, Sony, Google Play, All Romance ebooks, and Kobo. For the iBookstore U.S. link, click on the Cover Above. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.