Determined to become a rodeo star, Julian Busch ends up in North Carolina at Rolling Meadows Stables, where the days are grueling, the nights are wild, and his fellow trainees will mount a cowboy faster than they will mount a horse. Life in the rodeo isn’t easy, but wit and grit lead Julian to a place he never thought he would be.
Julian unpacked his suitcase, putting everything in the chest of drawers next to his bunk – socks and belts in the top drawer, underwear in the second, shirts in the third, and blue jeans in the bottom. He peeled off his red t-shirt with an Aggies mascot on it.
“Is that natural or do you work out?”
“What do you mean?”
“That chest. It just ain’t normal.”
“Just the result of daily workouts and some weightlifting.”
“I guess I’ve got to get me some weights.”
“Don’t need to. I brought mine. They’re still in the car.”
“Think you could help me?” He pulled up his shirt showing a modicum of development.
“Sure, we’ve got ten weeks here. I’m sure we could do something with that body of yours. It has potential.”
“Well, go shower. I’m going to grab a quick nap. Wake me when you’re ready to go to dinner.” Ross went to his bunk as Julian stripped, grabbed a towel, and entered the shower. A few moments later, Julian hollered to Ross, “Hey guy, you got some soap? I didn’t pack any and there ain’t none in here.”
Ross rose from the cot and took a bar of soap to the shower room.
“Damn, you’re a hairy one,” Ross said. “Good thing your Emily didn’t let you get very far. She’d be spitting out pubic hair more than doing anything else. You want some help there?”
“What? You think I’m gay and want to touch another guy’s junk?”
“I guess I was wrong. Sorry.” Ross returned to his cot and hoped Julian didn’t notice what he was sporting. Ross was disappointed in himself. He had vowed to follow the straight path now that he was starting a new life away from the life he had led in rural Georgia, and all the peers he had secretly been with. He knew he had to work harder on suppressing his innate desires. He fell asleep, but his mind conjured up a dream of him with the man he had just met.
“The Rodeo Rider,” an erotic cowboy romance novel by Duncan More, is available from Amazon in ebook and paperback format. Click Here or on Cover Above to Purchase. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
The man who killed an entire family is on the run and eluding authorities after escaping from the Rockfort Asylum. Claiming he has a Master to please, he hunts the curious teen who is determined to find him. In a twisted and bizarre cat and mouse game, Jerry is lured into the forest by the cries of a woman in distress, but discovers something much more sinister.
When I first got the idea of checking out the sewers, my friend Nick wasn’t supposed to go down with me.
“What are you doing?” I asked him.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m coming with you,” he said with a smile.
We reached a fork in the tunnel when one of the dim bulbs hanging over us flickered and gave out. “Nick,” I said as I shone the flashlight right in front of us. “Look at the wall and tell me what you see.”
“I see all sorts of green icky stuff growing on the walls,” he said.
I peeled off a bit and threw it to the ground.
Nick let out a nervous laugh as he watched me pull down another layer. “Come on, Jerry. Let’s get out of here.”
“Nick, turn off that bulb.”
He gave it a pull and the room fell into darkness. After a few seconds I began to see patterns form, but they didn’t make any sense to me. The best I could tell was that they were a mathematical code of some sort. I scribbled down the florescent code as best as I could.
“It looks like mathematics,” said Nick. “Do you think this entire room has some sort of codes written on the walls?”
“It’s possible,” I answered.
“It was good of you to finally come to me,” he said. A sinister grin was on his face as he stared at me.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“I want to make sure the deed is done,” James Pritchett smiled at me.
“What deed are you talking about?”
“It seems you haven’t been able to figure it out,” he grinned.
“Figure what out?” I asked.
“You found my hideout,” he said. He started to step towards me. “You found my notebook. You read my plans.”
“It was all gibberish to me,” I answered. “Where’s the girl?” I asked him.
“The girl who was screaming for help,” I answered. “What did you do to her?”
“Your mind must be playing tricks on you,” he said. He wouldn’t stop smiling. “No one shouted for help.”
Forcing my body to listen to what my mind wanted it to do, I ran from him.
“I love it when they run,” he laughed in mirth.
“The Escaped Murderer of Somerville,” young adult mystery by A.J. Raven, is available exclusively from Amazon. Print book is also available from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
In the conclusion of the ‘Journey of Self’ series, Daniel Self finds himself defending his relationship with Jordan Richards. He’s prepared to forgive Jordan for the past, but it’s not so easy for Daniel’s long time friend, Dunnelly Knight. Daniel struggles to find the love he’s looking for, only to come face to face with the past he has denied.
Daniel landed at Love Field on schedule and was at the condo well before 8:00. Jordan and he had chosen to live separately and allow their relationship to progress over time. It seemed to be working well, though Jordan pressed for more at times, as if he were looking for some sort of commitment. Jordan could always generate passion, and the sex was beyond intense. Daniel felt that he lost his usual objectivity when it came to sex with Jordan, and he often wondered how Jordan had become so skilled in what he did and how he did it.
Daniel showered and climbed into bed. His nude body was tired and he was looking forward to down time with Jordan. He picked up his cell phone and noticed that it was almost 9:00, but there was no message. He switched on the TV to the local channel and saw a promo for the local news with Dunnelly’s smiling face. He still had the same boyish good looks and easy smile as he had years ago when he was on the sidelines in his Willow Wildcat cheerleading uniform. Dunnelly had always been the one constant in Daniel’s life of loss and change and he held him close to his heart. Daniel sighed and switched off the TV. It was almost 10:00 and still no Jordan. He tossed his phone aside and closed his eyes. He thought he was dreaming when he felt a warm sensation between his legs. He heard Jordan mumble, “Relax cowboy, I’ll take care of this.” Daniel glanced at the clock. It was twelve minutes past midnight.
Daniel could feel the familiar sensation that could bring him close to ecstasy. Sex with Jordan was beyond description. “Whoa, give me a little break between, would ya?” he smiled. “Man, you can go full throttle for hours, but I need to come up for air.”
Jordan looked up sheepishly. “Do you miss me when you’re down there in Austin with all those politicians?” Jordan asked.
“When I’m in Austin, I’m working,” Daniel answered.
Jordan lay silent, but quietly seethed. “Have you given any more thought to our living together?” He finally broke the silence.
“Not really, Jordan. Was I supposed to?” Daniel asked. “I thought you were clear that I didn’t want that kind of commitment. We get together when we want, and I don’t want to mess it up by moving too quickly.”
“Well, you are, and I don’t want to feel like I’m on hold forever,” Jordan whispered. He rolled onto his side and watched the steady rise and fall of Daniel’s chest as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
Jordan slipped off the side of the bed carefully. Daniel was undisturbed as he murmured slightly and turned onto his back. His legs were spread and his hands were tucked behind his head under his pillow. A soft light from the bedside lamp cast shadows across Daniel’s amazing torso. Jordan smiled slightly, reached into the pocket of his jeans, and pulled out his smart phone. What better time to capture this in pictures, he thought. He snapped several pictures of Daniel’s nude sleeping body and checked the time as he pocketed his phone. Still time for a couple of drinks, he thought as he tucked in his shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, and checked himself out in the bathroom mirror.
“Vision of Self,” book four and the conclusion of the ‘Journey of Self’ series, gay romantic fiction by David Edmondson, is available exclusively from Amazon (Amazon Unlimited). Also available in print from Amazon. The previous three books in the series are also now offered by Amazon Unlimited. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
With the majority of its population male, Clarke’s Pointe is sure to be filled with opportunities for a lot of man-on-man action, or at least that’s what Jeffrey Martin thinks when he receives an offer to relocate to the artist colony in Delaware. The opportunity is too good to pass up for the part-time actor whose dream is to perform full-time on stage. Leaving the frigid winters of Minnesota for the Atlantic shore, he packs up his belongings and heads out, but not before he convinces a couple of fellow thespians to go with him. Jeff is in his element living among fellow lovers of the theatre, not to mention fellow worshipers of the god Priapus, and he can’t imagine anything going awry in this place that’s nothing short of paradise.
Jeff stripped down to his powder blue shorts, pulled the comforter over him, and quickly dozed off. Egoistic dreams filled his nap time. He saw himself on stage playing the lead in ‘Man of La Mancha’ and performing ‘The Elephant Man’ screaming ‘I am not an animal. I am a man.’ The sound of his doorbell disturbed these utopian dreams. Opening the door, a young man handed him a bouquet of red roses. He was rather attractive and Jeff couldn’t help but make a pass. “From you? You shouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t. I can’t afford to be sending guys I don’t know a dozen roses.”
“But if you knew me and loved me, you would, right?”
It was obvious that he was making the young man nervous. “Well, come in. What is it, about 5 below?”
“Something like that. I can’t wait to get home and get warm.”
“Well, let me get my wallet so I can give you a tip, unless you’d like to slip me your tip and the rest of what you’ve got.”
“You’re putting me on. A hot guy like you! My girlfriend won’t even offer to do that.”
“I will, and I don’t even love you.”
“Let me go park the delivery van. I’ll be right back.”
While he was outside, Jeff put the roses in a vase. His mom did remember him after all. He read the card: ‘To the love of my life, Mom.’ He smiled. Unknown to her, she had sent him a nicer present – a hot young delivery man.
Ross invited Robbie into Room 324. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right out.” Five minutes later, he emerged totally nude, revealing a body that got Robbie’s blood pumping. Pleased that Robbie wasn’t wearing underwear, he kissed him as he slid off the vest. “I’m going to get on the bed and I want you to look through the bag on the dresser. Feel free to use anything you want.”
Some of the things Robbie had only seen in sex videos. Now he was with a guy who wanted to experience them all. “You like these things, don’t you?”
That sir told Robbie what role he was going to play in their little fantasy. “So were you a bad boy in New York? Tell me the truth. Did you do things you wouldn’t be proud of?”
“I was on the ferry going to the Statue of Liberty. There was this one sailor. He looked so hot in his whites that I had to have him.”
“And I spent the night in the West Side Sauna. Two guys had their way with me, and I loved it. Then while I was recovering, an old guy with white hair and a goatee came in just for me. I did it just like you taught me, and mouthed the words you always said to turn me on. You were the best teacher.”
Robbie erotically licked his way up the center of Ross’s torso.
Purchase ‘Clarke’s Pointe’ from Amazon by clicking on the cover above.
Uninterested in the mating ritual of his people, Amu dreams of causing male screams of passion, and he confides in Owa, the young tribal storyteller, his desire of being in another man’s arms and kissing his lips. Discovering one night that Owa is a follower of the white fluid, Amu’s passion is ignited, but both men know they must hide it from their fellow tribesmen, lest they suffer the same fate as Kwamie and Kitru, fellow swallowers of the snake.
Before dawn broke from somewhere in the Land of the Coming Sun, Amu and Owa awoke. Owa knew he had to leave first to return to the village. They dare not return together, lest someone figure out what had transpired between them. Violating the taboo of two men together the way they had been would have meant exile to a deserted isle several hours away where they would most likely perish.
Amu returned to the village a short while later, immediately grabbed his fishing net and spear, and like most of the men, he was whistling and humming and extremely happy for the first time in his life, though obviously for a different reason than the other men. He listened to the men brag of their first night with a new partner, how they did it, and how they made their women scream in ecstasy, and how many times they did it.
On the third night of mating, Owa mentioned that he was especially hungry for some fruit and was going to the forest to find some. He looked at Amu as if extending an invitation to join him before taking the trail out of the village that led to the trees where they had enjoyed their first encounter. Amu was in turmoil. He so wanted to follow but knew they were violating a taboo. He watched as Owa departed. He bedded down in the long hut and tried vainly to sleep, but the thoughts and feelings of their first encounter kept his mind active.
He rose and silently took the path into the forest, tripping now and then in the near total darkness over roots and vines that clogged the path.
“I was hoping you would come,” Owa whispered as he heard the sounds of dried branches cracking under Amu’s feet and saw by starlight the figure finally draw near.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Owa extended his hand to Amu, and Amu let Owa draw him close. Lips found lips, and all the senses except sight came into play. The heat from bodies pressing close together, the taste of each other’s mouth, the smell of each other’s skin – all were heightened by the darkness.
“Teach me how to please you the way you pleased me,” Amu said.
“Are you sure?”
“Then do what I do.”
Owa began his seduction of Amu, and Amu reciprocated, eager to please his new lover.
“The Legend of Kwamie and Kitru,” erotic romance by Duncan More, is available from Barnes & Noble, Apple, Amazon, All Romance ebooks, Kobo ebooks, and Coffeetime Romance. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
The young man labeled a pariah must find his way through a labyrinth of his own making as he tries to discover what truly makes him happy. This is no easy task at Williamsburg State University, where gay men are plentiful and the endless buffet has plenty to offer. Cautioned against trying to bed every man who will have him, Terry does not heed the warning nor does he realize that his actions may have undesirable consequences.
The most imminent thing on the horizon was New York City, and all the men he could ever want. He could pick and choose, if the description of the downstairs wooden frame with naked men waiting was in any way, shape, or form accurate.
Terry was in awe as he looked in the shop windows as they navigated the sidewalk of Christopher Street, the gayest street in the entire city. There were restaurants, art galleries, antique stores, an off-Broadway theatre, fashion stores, jewelry stores, and leather shops. It was nothing like sedate East Port.
Randy smiled at Terry, “Welcome to NYU, or as some people call it, NY Yoo-hoo, because of the gay guys hollering out the dorm windows at cute guys on the street.” He led Terry up the steps to the third floor, unlocked the door, and was rather shocked to see Robby with a blond he had obviously picked up.
“Sorry, roomie, didn’t know you were here. We’ll be out in a minute.” They went for a bite to eat at one of the restaurants on Christopher Street. “That was awkward,” Henry said. “He is good, though, if you know what I mean.”
“You and your roommate have…?”
“Well, it seems we have another thing in common. My roomie and I have, too.” Terry went on to relate his unions with Darryl, Randy, Phil, and Muddy.
“You certainly have been one randy guy down there at Williamsburg State. Want to do something different I haven’t even tried here in the city?”
“Sure, what is it?”
Butchie’s certainly was not an eye-catching place from the outside. Two small windows on the street were covered on the inside with wooden blinds, and a large metal grate covered it on the outside when the place was locked. Terry looked around and noted that nearly everything about the place was light brown in color and relatively new. There was nothing that indicated the age of the building, unlike every other shop Terry had observed in the Village. It completely lacked character, not that he was here to appreciate character. He admired the men in the shop. There were several he would love to have sex with, and he commented on them to his companions. He watched them disappear behind a curtain and they didn’t return.
“That’s where the steps to paradise are, I presume.”
“Yes. The maze is to the left.”
Terry followed them at a respectable distance, but he lost them in the darkness of the maze. Instead, he found himself in a room lit only by a single red light bulb, and he was witness to all the depravity that two men could do together. In a far corner he noticed an orgy of seven guys combining in every way possible. Some of them noticed him as well and motioned him to join them. He was theirs in an instant as seven guys were all over him. All he could do, being suddenly the centerpiece of their orgy, was enjoy the ride. This was sex as he had never known it could be.
Then he felt what he was not prepared for.
“Whoa!” he shouted. “Wrap it up or get out.”
Suddenly all seven males deserted him. He didn’t play by the rules of the basement. Left out of the conglomeration of mingled bodies, he worked his way back towards the maze.
“Hey, wait!” One of the seven came running after him. “You must be new here. Come with me into the maze.”
He grabbed Terry’s hand and led him into the absolute darkness of the maze. They rounded four corners and he pulled Terry to him. He was a man on a mission and not to be denied. Terry couldn’t refrain from giving in completely to the man. Afterward, he disappeared before Terry could say a word.
Totally disoriented in the darkness, Terry began to feel his way around the maze, accidentally touching couples along the way. Only when he heard moaning did he know there were two guys engaged.
“The Pariah,” erotic romance by Duncan More, is available from Apple, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, All Romance ebooks, Google, Kobo ebooks, and Coffeetime Romance. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
A Winchester was a rifle that helped many pioneers as they settled the western provinces. They were known for their shooting ability when hunting for meat to eat, and nearly every man ‘packed a rod.’ That rather accurately describes our dancers as well as our customers.
Gregor hired me for a one night performance, a special birthday gift for his Steve, and with a little logistical planning, I pulled it off to perfection. I’m not like the pretty muscle gods they’ve got dancing here. Most of the guys I hang with don’t even realise I like to swing with a guy any morning, afternoon, or night. The guys I hang with really enjoy (no, make that love) their motorcycles. That’s where the thrill and power lies – sitting on top of a two wheeled machine surging with power – the feeling of leather and chrome and speed at our total command, riding where we want, doing what we want, as often as we want.
At 11:00 that night in full riding gear, I got my ’51 Indian (for you bike enthusiasts who need to know that kind of thing), revved up the engine and rode right on stage, gently shoved the dancer to the floor, rode down the ramp and braked in front of the VIP table. I looked Steve right in the eye and bellowed, “You the guy who runs this pansy club?” Instantly, uniformed security people were surrounding me. I got behind Steve, grabbed his neck in an arm lock, and hollered at the security guards. “Back off but stay in sight, unless you want a corpse on your hands, and that goes for the rest of you, too. Hey Bartender – take the phone off the hook and set it on the bar top where I can see it, and don’t let me even see a cell phone.”
You could have heard a pin drop in the place. I slowly took my trusty blade from my boot and began to pick my teeth with it. I loved being the centre of attention. “What!” I shouted menacingly, “You pretty boys like seeing guys take their clothes off? That really pops your cookies? Well, fine with me. You, come here,” I said glaringly at one of the security cops. One came forward. “Don’t none of you try nuthin’ right now, you hear?”
“Stand there.” He obeyed. “Come closer. These pretty boys here wanna see a man – a real man.” I took my knife and deftly sliced the threads on his shirt buttons so it fell open. “Now, get out there and tease us. Give us a show like you’re used to seeing here.” He slowly obeyed, having no other option. “Peel that t-shirt off – show us what a real man’s chest looks like.” He complied. “Glad you got a nice one for the boys here. Wouldn’t want them to be disappointed.” He wiggled and did a rather good strip. “Give us a show, Mr. Officer. That’s it, you can do it. Pretend you’re one of the pretty boys. Sell your body.” He hit some bodybuilder’s stances like he had been posing for years. The other security staff looked on helplessly, wondering and fearing that I had something in mind for them, too.
I skillfully took the knife and sliced open the seam of his trousers from the crotch through to the belt line, and his pants fell to his knees. “Ooh, nice!” I said. “Come on, Officer. Make it hot. Give the boys here what they want.” He again complied. “Okay, boys, give the nice officer a round of applause.” There was some polite applause.
“Well, what do you know? It seems the nice officer really belongs here. You’ve got customers here who want to see something different and really hot, so give them their money’s worth. They paid to get in here tonight.”
I hollered over to the bartender that I wanted a bottle of the best champagne in the house. A very nervous waiter brought it to the table, and it took him several tries to get the bottle popped. He could barely pour it into the glasses. “Don’t you go away, pretty boy,” I told him. I took a sip from my glass and looked over at the officer.
“Very good, Officer. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Well, very good show, Rene. I think everyone should give Officer Rene here a round of applause.” A huge round of applause followed as he scrambled to gather his uniform. “Hey, Rene, been a guard here long?”
“No, Sir,” he responded. “Tonight was my first night.”
“Maybe you can get a promotion to dancer here, Officer Rene. What do you think, Stevie?” I asked, slightly releasing the hold I had on him. “Would you hire him to dance here for all the pretty boys?” I waited for an answer. None was coming.
Looking into his eyes, I said, “You know what I think, Stevie baby? I think you should hire him as a dancer. You know what else I think, Stevie baby? I think you should have one memorable birthday. So,” I continued in a voice still loud enough for all to hear, “Happy birthday! I hope this birthday is always remembered as something special.” In front of everyone, I planted a big long wet kiss on his lips. Then in an even louder voice, I apologised to everyone present. “I am sorry for any emotional terror I may have caused you in the last fifteen or so minutes. To make up for it, the drinks are on me for the next half hour, so get the waiters and the bartenders busy.”
Steve sank back in his chair totally weak. Then I introduced him to Rene, a new dancer at Winchester’s – Montreal I had hired for the night. By the time Steve found out his security guards were in on my part of the night’s festivities, he immediately deduced who had hired me. I hung around to make sure no murder would follow. By the end of the night Steve and I had made peace, once he regained his composure, and I made a few friends that night.
Come in and say ‘Hi’ to me. I really won’t bite, unless you want me to.
“Winchester’s Men,” gay erotica/erotic romance by Duncan More, is available from Apple, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, All Romance ebooks, Google, Kobo ebooks, and Coffeetime Romance. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
It was a brilliant plan, a group of guys pooling their money to rent a small house. The landlord was a genius to put Greg Forrest in charge, offering him a place to stay in exchange for fixing up the place. What could possibly go wrong? The man is an army veteran who surely wouldn’t tolerate foolishness. But the landlord didn’t know Greg as well as he thought. Keeping a secret side of the house for his own purposes, Greg introduces each of the guys, one by one, and unknown to the others, to a world of pure pleasure, and he has no intention of letting any of them know about his liaisons with the others. Amid the parties and mayhem, fun is had and couples are formed, but a surprise visitor from Greg’s past may mean a change in the house rules.
It was a great plan, a fabulous plan, an utterly incredible plan, a plan no one had ever thought of before, a surefire plan, a plan that couldn’t fail. The guys were going to pool their money and rent a small house on a rundown property on the outskirts of their tiny Montana hamlet called Rainbow. Like all great plans, though, nothing went quite as expected. The plan was for Greg, in return for a more independent roof over his head for the next twelve months, to work on improving the property for the building’s owner. It was a small house, with three rooms and a bath upstairs; a kitchen, a den or dining room, living room and tiny laundry room on the ground floor. A small cellar underneath the kitchen housed the furnace and hot water heater resting on the solid rock only five feet below ground level. The porch railings and floor required painting, the wooden steps needed to be nailed down or replaced, the fence around the yard needed to be straightened and anchored into place, and window frames demanded repair. Inside, the three bedrooms needed ceiling tiles replaced from an earlier roof leak, and a light fixture here and there needed some basic rewiring. Outside, the yard needed hours of work to make it presentable, as overgrown grass was going to seed, and weeds and crab grass were firmly rooted throughout. Working with Greg, the guys completely altered the appearance of the house and it looked quite presentable. They raided their family attics for unneeded furniture, and a trip or two to Goodwill in Greg’s truck for some used furniture finished off what they needed: a place to study, a place to party, a place to get lucky – or so they hoped – and Greg would be there to keep an eye on the place.
They agreed on a set of rules for use of the house regarding parties, guests, and study time. However, the choice of Greg was also a bad move on the guys’ part, because he introduced each of them, one by one, and unknown to the others, to the pure pleasures of worshiping the god Priapus. He seduced each of them and taught them to return the pleasure. And he was a good instructor. Each, unknown to the others, managed to meet and mate with Greg regularly for private sessions.
One of the guys reminded Greg of his days back in Afghanistan with Corporal Robin Deets. There was the body he loved. Those tight abs, the beefy arms and thighs, the brown eyes, the nearly perfect teeth, but Cpl. Deets had one more year to go when Greg’s overseas hitch was over. Greg hoped that someday he and his army pal would get back together. He just wasn’t sure if it was a friendship or a temporary relationship based upon proximity and male necessity, but the man did make hot dusty days and cold nights endurable. A soldier wasn’t going to get lucky with a lady who keeps her face covered with a veil, and it was a death sentence for any local male who wanted to have a little fun, so they did what they could.
“The Other House on Elm Street,” erotic romance by Duncan More, is available from Apple, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, All Romance ebooks, Kobo ebooks, and Coffeetime Romance. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
North Carolina painter Evan Phelps and his ex-lover Frank own a small art shop in the beach town of Manteo. When four friends encounter car trouble one day and seek help from Evan, the painter finds an unexpected muse in the much younger Sterling. He is gorgeous and Evan cannot stop thinking about him and painting images of him in various erotic poses. When Sterling comes to him for serious sexual advice, an unlikely relationship begins between the mature Evan and the much younger Sterling, a virgin in anticipation of his first sexual experience. Sterling’s buddy Jordan, in sharp contrast, is very sexually active and led around by one particular part of his anatomy, like a carrot in front of a donkey. When Evan’s career begins to take off, the adventures begin, leading Evan and his young paramour to a place neither has been.
A solo of Sterling in his partially aroused stage literally commanded to be first. He began with the head with its roundish shape and long wavy black hair partially covering his ears and draping haphazardly across his forehead. Green eyes, a cute pug nose and a thin black mustache atop a pleasant smile completed the face. Next came his broad shoulders and a well defined chest as well as the stomach, hard but not overly muscled (probably the result of hard work and not a gym regimen). He stretched the arms out so that the hands were holding onto the banister of the deck. He finished it off with the top three inches of a pair of white jeans. He decided against going further with that part which was etched in his memory. It was midnight when he shut off the bedroom light and crawled into bed. As he lay there in the darkness, a vision of Sterling was conjured in his mind. Evan finally fell into a deep sleep, and there was Sterling again, standing in the kitchen doorway, and as naked as truth should be, he advanced toward Evan and planted a kiss on his lips as his hands roamed Evan’s back. Evan woke suddenly and found that he was totally aroused. None of his subjects had ever dominated his mind and fantasies before.
“So tell me,” Frank said. “Who’s the new love in your life?”
“What do you mean?”
“Eight paintings of the same model. The last time you went on a painting binge like this, all of the paintings were of me and that was back when we had just graduated from college eleven years ago.”
Evan explained that he had only met Sterling for an hour and about the car being stuck in a sand dune.
“Well, this new fixation of yours is producing some of the finest work you’ve done in years. We’re talking about the $200 price range.”
The next Friday after painting like a demon, Evan delivered two more of Sterling, plus several of the foursome and some seascapes and one of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in the background with Sterling in the foreground waiting to climb it. He even did one of Paul standing in his kitchen doorway when he first revealed Junior in full glory, although he felt that nudes were not his forte.
“Wow” was all Frank could say when he saw Paul. “Is that thing real or did you go about enlarging it?”
“He said it was eleven and a half inches. I didn’t measure it, but I would have.”
“A Gift From Poseidon,” erotic romance novel by Duncan More, is available from Apple, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, All Romance ebooks, Kobo and Coffeetime Romance. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
The murder of Quentin’s lover for daring to “come out” devastates Quentin, and he shields himself as best he can from the past, choosing a life of relative solitude. Resigning himself to a life alone, Quentin doesn’t anticipate meeting a young man who shares his passions. Drawn to this man, he realizes how much he misses someone special in his life, and he longs for the days he shared with his former lover. Hesitant to act upon feelings he was certain had died along with his former lover, Quentin is torn between renewed feelings and the fear of being deeply hurt again.
Ely welcomed the man by patting the sand, and the man stretched out, enjoying the warm rays on his skin. He was a handsome man with thick dark hair and Ely estimated him to be a little older than he, twenty-five at the most. Ely didn’t mean to stare, yet he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off this man.
The stranger reached out to shake Ely’s hand and said confidently, “I’m Quentin, Quentin Jones.”
Ely shook his hand and introduced himself as well, still mesmerized by the man’s forwardness. After a period of silence, he found the courage to ask, “What brings you to Galveston, sir?”
“Oh, my goodness, call me Quentin, please.” Quentin continued, “I teach literature at The University of Texas in Houston. I come to Galveston every chance I can, though. I love the beach and the warm waters of the Gulf.”
Ely explained that he was working at the ice cream parlor during the mornings, and came to the beach in the afternoons and evenings. “Stop by,” he boldly invited the man he had just met.
“I’ll do that,” Quentin didn’t hesitate to reply, followed by a wink. Looking Ely directly in the eyes, he asked, “Would you like to see my house. It’s just up the beach.”
Ely didn’t know what to do. This was what he had wanted, yet he had been taught to be wary of strangers. He was suddenly aware that he was staring into Quentin’s eyes which were waiting for an answer.
“I’d love to.”
“Great,” Quentin replied.
Ely followed Quentin up the beach to his house. When they entered, he almost gasped. The house was beautiful, adorned with the most exquisite antiques which Quentin had inherited from his grandparents and parents. Everything seemed to have a place, and everything was in its place.
In a small corner of the library underneath a copy of Moby Dick was a letter addressing Quentin as “The Love of My Life.” It was from two years ago, and from the sketchy timeline Ely could piece together, it appeared that Quentin and another man had an intimate relationship for three years. For Quentin’s sake, he never mentioned that he was his lover, and they always met in secretive locations. As he skimmed the letter, Ely came to the last page which was very disturbing.
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