Hi everyone — Happy last day of the party! I wanted to share what’s coming up from moi. In December, i’ll be re-releasing my holiday erotic romance, MISTLETOWED. I’ve rewritten parts of it and it has a brand new cover!
Then on January 8th, my first werewolf book, THE PACK OR THE PANTHER, releases from Dreamspinner Press. It will be available for pre-order on the DSP website. It’s the first book in Tales of the Harker Pack. The second book in the series, WOLF IN GUCCI LOAFERS, releases in April. At that time, both books will be available in print.
Here’s the blurb for THE PACK OR THE PANTHER.
Cole Harker, son of an alpha werewolf, is bigger and more powerful than most wolves, tongue-tied in groups, and gay. For twenty-four years, he’s lived to please his family and pack—even letting them promise him in marriage to female werewolf Analiese to secure a pack alliance and help save them from a powerful gangster who wants their land. Then Cole meets Analiese’s half-brother, panther shifter Paris Marketo, and for the first time, Cole wants something for himself.
When Analiese runs off to marry a human, Cole finally has a chance with Paris, but the solitary cat rejects him, the pack, and everything it represents. Then Cole discovers the gangster wants Paris too and won’t rest until he has him. What started as a land dispute turns into World War Wolf! But the bigger fight is the battle between cats and dogs.
There will be a FB party and a blog tour to launch this book so stay in touch on my website!
Hi– I was honored to learn that F.A.S.T. Balls, my MM, contemporary, enemies-to-lovers book, received 5 Hearts at The Romance Studio. That makes it eligible for the 5 Heart Sweetheart! If you’re so inclined, would you check out the list and vote? Here’s the link: http://www.theromancestudio.com/5heart_form.php
And here’s a nibble from F.A.S.T. Balls!
Excerpt: F.A.S.T. Balls by Tara Lain; The Gay Fireman and the Homophobe
Firefighter and surfing champion, Jerry Wallender, looks like a hero to the world, but he can’t see it. He keeps falling for these intellectual guys who end up making him feel dumb and unneeded. On top of that, Mick Cassidy, super-gorgeous firefighter and total homophobe, makes Jerry’s life miserable with his slurs. Then one day Mick’s nice to Jerry and, at the Firefighter’s Ball, Jerry offers a helping hand and ends up with a hand-job. What the hell is going on?
Mick Cassidy is great with fighting fires and solving math problems but rotten with people. Raised by a gay-hating preacher, Mick’s carefully constructed world of gay bashing starts to crumble when he meets Jerry, the nicest, kindest man he’s ever known. Mick’s never wanted a woman and can’t stop thinking about sex with Jerry. In fact, he can’t stop doing it. Does that make him gay? And if he’s gay, what happens to his whole life? A hook-up between sweet Jerry and mean Mick might be total disaster — or the smartest idea Jerry ever had.
Straight nodded and positioned himself at the foot of the stairs.
Mick tested each stair before he applied weight. One gave way but he jumped to the next.
Heat searing now. He bent double and moved like some round-backed animal up three more stairs to what would have been the top if much had been left. Damn. Where was he?
He pressed against the only wall not burning and sidled his way down the hall to what must have been the bedrooms. It seemed like it took a year of inching but he got to a door frame and looked in. On the far wall, he saw what was left of a single bed like for a kid.
The floor of the room was mostly missing. Burned through.
He leaned forward. No. No, God. Lying on the floor a story below was a firefighter. It had to be Jerry. Crumpled like some bad voodoo doll or something. His breathing apparatus stuck out from under a burning board. The caved-in floor had caught fire to the fabrics in the room and a huge blaze was consuming a couch and fallen floorboards only feet from his head.
Mick pressed himself against the wall again and forced himself to go slow. If he died, so did Jerry. When he finally got back to the stairs, he ran down, with charred wood cracking under his boots. He hit the ground, pointed his arm, and ran toward the hall to the back of the house on the first floor. He rounded a corner and staggered back. Flames licked up the walls on both sides like an arc of fire. He crouched real low and burst through to a short section of hall barely burning. Straight volleyed through beside him.
Then he stared.
The space ahead must have been a family room. Now it was pure inferno. He knelt and peered under the fire. Yes, Jerry’s body lay beyond a wall of flame. Mick’s heart and head disconnected. One wanted to leap headfirst through the flames and grab that fallen body in his arms. But the firefighter’s brain calculated. There was a chance of slipping through the burn low and on the right side.
Straight knelt beside him. Mick pointed at the area and mimed his going through. He reached for the RIT Bag in Straight’s hand. The man pulled it back and shook his head. What the hell? Mick used his extra reach to grab the bag and pull. Straight pulled back.
Mick screamed through the speaking diaphragm. “What the hell?”
Straight peered into Mick’s mask. “Our chance. Leave him.”
What? “No way.” He waved his arms wildly.
“Your father’s mission. One less fag.”
Mick stared at him. Every ounce of blood felt frozen. Everything he’d been taught stared through his mask. Discriminate…judge…despise…hate…and finally kill.
The scream came from somewhere he’d never been. Some place in his soul that had never seen light before. “Ahhhhhhhhhh!”
You can find Tara HERE:
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Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 21. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog in Laguna Beach, California, a pretty seaside town where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!
Here’s one of my earliest books that readers still seem to love a lot. The Scientist and the Supermodel is MM but it’s the first book in my MMF menage series. The character, Cal, who you meet in this scene, get’s his own book later in the Series called Deceptive Attraction. The Scientist and the Supermodel was a 5 Heart Sweetheart at TRS!
Excerpt R: Tara Lain The Scientist and the Supermodel M/M Erotic Romance
Amazon ARe Sony B&N
Geneticist Jake Martin has brilliant scientific vision, but he’s blind to
his own nature. Despite his flagging interest in women and his past
experience with a man, he’s convinced himself he’d be happy if he could
just have his older boss, Emmaline Silvay, as his lover. Living in his
closeted dream world, he’s unprepared for the powerful attraction he
experiences to supermodel Roan Black, “the most beautiful man in the
Jake can’t resist the gorgeous, androgynous creature. Who could? he thinks.
But Roan refuses to accept him until Jake admits that it’s a man he wants
and this man in particular. Jake tells himself it’s just sex, but his
refusal to understand what he really needs threatens the best chance at
happiness he’s ever had. Is there a future for a PhD scientist who refuses
to see and a high school dropout supermodel who understands all too
Publisher’s Note: This book is predominantly a romance between two bisexual
men and features primarily male/male sexual practices; however, it contains
m/f and m/m/f scenes and is therefore classified as menage, not strictly
The following excerpt occurs after Jake has had an unexpected encounter with a man in LA. He is at his parent’s home in Brooklyn, has just asked out a girl who was invited to dinner and is now talking to his brother in the guest room.
The daybed was a little too small, and Jake shifted, trying to get his feet in a comfortable position. The room was dark except for reflections from a streetlight shining through the one window. Yeah, he was tired after the flying and the socializing. He sighed.
“You liked her, huh? You’re going to take her out?” his brother’s voice murmured across the room.
“Yeah, I asked her out.”
“She really turned you on. That date should be hot.”
Realizing hormones pretty much ran his brother’s twenty-year-old life, Jake asked with a grin, “Now why do you think that?”
“Hey, man, I saw you trying to hide that boner when you ran out.”
Jake flushed, glad that the room was dark. “Did everyone see?”
“Nah, just me. I was beside you, remember?”
“Yeah, well, I was thinking of someone else.”
“Ohhh. Your boss, I’ll bet. You’ve got it bad for her.”
Should he go with that suggestion? “Yeah, I do.” Then he decided to be at least a little more honest to encourage Caleb to be the same. “But actually it was someone else.”
He heard his brother sit up in bed. “No shit? You got another woman?”
Why did he have to phrase it quite like that? “Just someone I met in LA.”
“Wow. No wonder you’re so tired, big brother.” He laughed. “What’s her name?”
“I’d rather just forget about it.”
“No fucking way. Is she one of those LA chicks? Is she an actress? Wow. Is she famous?”
“Famous? Yes, that’s right. Now give it a rest.”
Suddenly the daybed was a lot more crowded, and Caleb was sitting on his legs. “Ya gotta tell me, Jake.”
“I don’t gotta tell you.” Shit, why didn’t he keep his mouth shut?
“Why don’t you want to tell me?”
“I’m your brother,” he wailed.
“I know, but I can’t tell you about this.”
Cal was quiet for a moment. “Why not, Jake? Will it shock me? Will it despoil my lily-white ears?”
Jake sighed. “Yeah, it would shock you.”
“Really? Awesome! Let me guess. Threesome?”
“S and M?”
Cal flopped backward. “Orgy?”
“God, no. Hey, baby brother, what the hell are they teaching you in that college? Are you speaking from experience?”
“Shit, no.” He gave an evil grin. “Wish I was, though.”
“Come on, you like to be tied up?”
“I might consider it.”
“You want to be with a bunch of women?”
“Well, no, not really. But don’t change the subject, bro; we were talking about your indiscretions, not mine.”
“No need. I’m not talking. Get off me. Let’s go to sleep.”
The big body didn’t move, and all Jake’s pushing didn’t budge him. Okay, he’d just go to sleep. Jake turned his head on the pillow and sighed. Ignore the runt.
Cal was quiet, then a voice came out of the darkness. “Jake, did you have sex with a man?”
Jake swallowed hard. “Why the hell would you think that?”
“’Cause I remember that guy. Tom. So did you?”
“Yeah, sort of, but don’t think it was something major. I mean, it just happened…”
Caleb shifted and brought his face down so he was looking straight at Jake in the dim light. “I said, awesome.” He was quiet for a minute, then seemed to have made a decision. “Jake, my roommate is my lover. His name is Charlie.”
They both just rested in the moment. Then Caleb practically pounced on him. “Tell me, Jake. Who was it? What did he do?” Suddenly Jake was being lifted by the shoulders and hugged by his giant of a brother. “Oh crap, Jake, I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have someone to talk to.”
Jake extricated himself gently from the bear hug and scooted back so he could sit up against the pillows. The light coming through the windows illuminated his brother’s handsome face. “Cal, why haven’t you told Mom and Dad?”
He looked a little sulky. “I didn’t hear you sharing your adventures at the dinner table.”
“Yeah, well this was a one-time thing. How long have you known you were…uh, liked guys?”
“It’s okay, Jake, you can say gay. That’s what I am, and I’ve known it since I went into puberty and all my raging hormones were pointing me in the wrong direction. Then I realized it was the right direction for me.”
“But you never told the folks.”
“For a long time I just kind of denied it. Then when I met Charlie and really got committed to the lifestyle, I just got tongue-tied. You know, Dad and Sean are such alphas.”
“I notice you didn’t include me in that description.”
“Well, you’re the pretty one. And you were always so comfortable with Tom. Man, I thought he was cute. Of course, I was just a kid, and he couldn’t see anyone but you. Fuck, that guy loved you.”
“You knew that?”
“Fuck, yeah. Didn’t you?”
“Not for a long time.”
“Wow. Poor guy.”
“So is that who you were with? Did he move to LA or something?”
“No, it wasn’t Tom.”
“Yeah, and I guess he wouldn’t be famous, or I’d probably have seen him. So who was it?”
“If it doesn’t matter, why won’t you tell me?”
“Don’t want to.” Shit, what was he, five?
“So what did this unknown guy do?” Cal grabbed him again. “I’ll bet he sucked you off, didn’t he? That’s a pretty heteroflexible activity. Who doesn’t like getting their cock sucked? Right?”
“So who was it? Tell me, Jake. You know I’m not gonna tell anyone. C’mon, tell me.”
Jake sighed. “Okay. Have you ever heard of a model named Roan Black?”
Dead silence was followed by a soft whisper. “You are shitting me.”
His voice rose. “Roan Black sucked your cock? The most beautiful man in the world sucked your fucking cock?”
Caleb fell back on the very crowded bed. “Baby, that doesn’t make you gay, it just means you’re smart.”
Jake burst out laughing.
Find Tara Lain at:
It’s 3AM in California! Our heater was having some problems and woke me up so i thought i’d post a middle of the night bonus excerpt! You may know that i write mostly MM romance with a MMF menage series as well. I’ve only written ONE traditional MF romance and this is it. It’s an older woman/younger man, contemporary romance novella for the holidays called BE BAD, FOR GOODNESS SAKE and, while it’s not my usual pairing, it does have a very Tara Lain hero and a very romantic story. Enjoy.
Excerpt: Be Bad, for Goodness Sake by Tara Lain; MF Holiday Romance
Christopher “Kit” Merchant is a flaming — metrosexual. Though he’s great at his job in product marketing for a high tech firm, he loves fashion, grooming, design and planning parties. Sadly, he also loves the CEO of his company, Elizabeth “Bett” Harding, who is ten years older, ten times richer, and has a successful CEO as a boyfriend. When Bett asks Kitt to plan the big company holiday party at her house, he’s thrilled. Maybe she’ll come to see him as eligible. But when Bett’s boyfriend finds them together in bathrobes sipping wine, Kit discovers Bett thinks he’s gay. On top of that, the boyfriend is trying to take over Bett’s position as CEO “for her own good”. Santa Claus is going to have to work hard to make Kit’s wishes come true. Will Kit and Bett ever get the chance to be bad, for goodness sake?
Oh God of lucky metrosexuals, Kit was about to go swimming with Bett Harding. Yes, she had a boyfriend. But she loved Kit’s furniture and she wanted him to pick out her clothes and, oh yeah, he got to eat dinner with her. He sighed. A lot of things were going right.
He hurried into the indoor swim area and found the dressing room. Stripped down to his black boxer briefs, he grabbed a couple of towels that he dropped on a chaise, took two big steps and dove into the pool. The water was Caribbean warm. He loved to swim. Swimming, tai chi, and karate were his favorite forms of exercise. He fell into a slow crawl that took him under the glass wall that separated the indoor from the outdoor areas of the pool. The cold air hit his back and he shivered, but just kept swimming. At the end, he did a racing turn and crawled his way back into the indoors. Arm raised, head to the side, breath, stroke, stroke, arm up, head to the side… Holy shit! He sucked water, coughed, and dunked himself, struggled to get upright, and finally sputtered his way into the air.
“Are you okay?” Bett bent over the side of the pool, still wearing the two pieces of devastating, ought-to-be-a-law-against-them strips of fabric covering only the essentials of a body so perfect, lean, and toned she would have done justice to the cover of Sports Illustrated. Clearly, she had no idea why he’d almost drowned looking at her. She seemed no more self-conscious in her two-piece than she was in her serviceable slacks and shirts.
“I’m fine. Sorry. You just startled me.”
“Good.” She did a crisp, shallow dive and came up a few feet past him. She fell into a slow crawl. He pushed off and swam up beside her. In a minute, their arm motions synchronized, their legs kicked in unison. It was like a time in tai chi class where all the people practicing had suddenly breathed as one and he’d known the meaning of harmony. Stroke, stroke, their ripples flowed together creating one wake between then, one movement, one heartbeat. No need to ever stop.
Minutes, hours. Maybe days. How long did they swim feeling so at peace? Finally she came to the end of the pool and stopped. He grasped the side.
She gave him a gentle smile, water dripping from her dark hair slicked back on her head. “Thank you. That was…nice.”
“You hungry? I put some water on to boil earlier and I can have the pasta made in a few minutes.”
She pressed her hands over her board flat stomach. “I just realized I’m starving. I don’t remember if I ate lunch.”
“We’ll take care of that.”
“Hang on. I’ll grab you a robe.” She jumped out. Okay, he was staring. That cute round butt filled out the suit bottom with a little extra to enjoy, flexing as she walked. She stepped inside the dressing room and emerged cuddled in a fluffy terrycloth robe and carrying another one. She set it on a chaise. “Here. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
He waited for her to leave the pool area before he jumped out. Seeing him in clinging cotton might not be the best under any circumstances, but with a full erection? No way.
He wrapped himself in the terrycloth, pulled off the soaked briefs and hung them over the back of a lounge chair. Time to eat.
A half hour later, Christmas carols played on the MP3, she’d served up salads and he put the finishing touches on a tomato and broccoli sauce for their pasta.
She pulled a couple of place mats from a drawer. “Let’s eat by the fire. That way I can lean against my new couch.”
By the fire? Wow. “Sure. Lead on.”
She set up the mats on the low, modern coffee table. By the time he had the plates in place, she brought a bottle of wine and two glasses. This was quite a celebration. She handed him the corkscrew and he opened the chilled white with a soft pop and poured two glasses. He scooched under the coffee table beside her.
She raised her wine glass. “To a wonderful holiday party. And my wonderful new furniture.”
They both drank and she dug into her pasta. She pressed a hand to her full mouth. “You are kidding me. This is like gourmet. It’s delicious.”
She swallowed. “What don’t you do well?”
He grinned. “I’d make a lousy linebacker.”
“I consider that a major failing.”
They settled down to serious eating. He’d missed lunch too, so he fed the fiery stomach.
When they slowed down to drink the wine, she leaned her head back on her new couch. Her soft hair was nearly dry and looked pretty against the deep plum color of the cushion.
“Tell me something.”
“How could you possibly get me so completely when you barely know me?”
“Do I get you?”
She raised her head. “Yes. I mean the couch, the party plans, this food. It’s like you read my diary—if I kept one, that is.”
“I guess we’re just compatible. Plus, I’ve made a study of Bett Harding.” Damn, maybe he shouldn’t have said that.
She raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“Not stalker or anything. I work for you in marketing. I have to understand how you like things, how you want things that represent you to look.”
She gave a small smile. “No one else seems to understand that.”
“For most people, their own ideas get between them and the person they want to please so they end up pleasing themselves.”
Her blue eyes seemed to darken. “Do you want to please me?”
He smiled. “Very much.”
“What the fuck is going on here?”
Kit’s head snapped up at the voice that thundered from behind them. Bett looked back too.
“Ollie. What are you doing here?”
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Hi everyone– Hope your morning is going well (or afternoon, or evening! LOL) Here’s a nibble from SINDERS AND ASH, my MM contemporary fairy tale romance. This book is a perpetual favorite of readers. Enjoy.
Excerpt: Sinders and Ash by Tara Lain; MM Contemporary Fantasy
Work hard, stay anonymous and don’t expect much. That’s resort housekeeper Mark Sintorella’s philosophy of life. After being kicked out of his family home at sixteen for being gay, Mark knows what it takes to survive. But how is he going to stay anonymous when he wants to be recognized as a great fashion designer? And how can he control his expectations when he’s desperately attracted to Ashton Armitage, the son of the fifth richest man in America? If Ash doesn’t find a woman to marry he’s going to lose his inheritance, but he can’t seem to resist the beautiful kid who cleans fireplaces while hiding behind a black cap and heavy glasses. And then this crazy elf of a man, Carstairs Pennymaker, has Mark running around looking like a fashion model wearing gorgeous women’s clothes. The clock strikes twelve and the wedding follows the ball. Two beautiful princesses line up for attention. But one isn’t interested and one isn’t a woman. Who will be the bride? Will the shoe fit? Only his fairy godmother knows for sure.
Pennymaker turned and looked at Mark. “What are you working on?”
“Excuse me? I, uh, have to clean some fireplaces this morning. You know they keep the rooms cool just so they can use them? Makes work for me.”
“That’s not what I mean, of course.” He turned back to the rack, pushed some jeans aside. “Aha!” His hand shot through the garments to the dress form. He made an opening in the clothes and stepped through to stand beside the red dress. “Perfect. Just beautiful. What a talent.”
The little man beamed at him. “You have exceptional design skills.”
God, it was hard to not be flattered. “Thank you, sir.” But how had the man known to look for the dress? Who told him?
Pennymaker walked over to the chair and sat. Creak. Hopefully the tiny man wouldn’t strain the old wood too much. “I would like to show that dress to some people.”
“Let’s say some potential investors.”
No. He couldn’t get excited. “Uh, really, sir? You’re in the clothing business?”
“I’m in many businesses, my boy.”
Okay, try not to be suspicious. “How did you know I was a clothing designer?”
The little man waved a hand. “That lovely T-shirt, of course.”
“No one told you?”
“Who would tell me?”
Had him there.
Pennymaker stepped back and surveyed the dress. “Now, who is your model?”
What? Mark cocked his head.
“Who did you set the dress form to?”
“Oh, uh, myself. I, uh, don’t have anyone else. I’m pretty slim so it works.”
“Perfect. Perfect. When do you have to be at work?”
This conversation was crazy. “In about an hour. This is my morning off. Unless they need me, of course.”
“Good. Put on the dress.”
“We’re going for a little walk through the hotel. You’ll be my…niece. Go on, go on.” He made a shooing gesture with his hands.
Mark shook his head. “Sir, I know I fit the dress to me but that’s because I don’t have anyone else. I’m not a transvestite.”
“Never said you were, dear boy. But these people I want to have see the dress will be much more amenable to taking your designs seriously if they think of the idea themselves rather than my telling them. That’s how we all are, now isn’t it? So I want them to see the clothes. We don’t have another model and we don’t want anyone else in on our secret.”
Secret? “What if someone recognizes me?”
Pennymaker cocked his head. “That is very unlikely. You do a good job making yourself plain and unmemorable with your cap and glasses.”
Mark felt the blush. Shoot. The man had him dead to rights.
“Besides, people see what they expect and they certainly don’t expect to see Mark Sintorella in a dress. Now, put it on.”
Mark stepped behind the rack of clothing. He stripped to his boxer briefs and stopped. What the hell was he doing? He could jeopardize his job for this crazy-assed little guy with his hair-brained scheme.
The voice came from the other side of the clothes. “Do you have it on?”
“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but are you sure about this? I really need the money I get from working here.”
“Tut tut, my boy. Hurry. I want to make one tour around the lobby and public rooms before you start your shift. Times a’wastin’. ”
Mark pulled the dress over his head and let it fall into place. The skirt was just full enough to swing when he walked so no one would notice his cock under it. “Uh, I don’t have any boobs.”
“Let me see.”
“See what? What I haven’t got?” He stepped out.
Pennymaker looked at him studiously. “Gorgeous. You don’t have breasts but then neither do some women to speak of. I’m more concerned about the hairy legs. Go shave, quickly.”
“What? Sir, I don’t think so…”
“This won’t be your only modeling assignment I suspect so think of it as a long-term investment. Consider that brilliant young model who walks the catwalks in both male and female shows. You’re at least his equal in beauty.”
“No buts. This is your future. Now go!”
Hi and good morning! I wanted to let you know that my monthly Big Backlist Weekend is happening on my Blog Right Now! My guest is Josh Lanyon. Both he and i are giving away a book from our backlists to two lucky winners. If you have a minute, come on over and enter. Josh is featuring Dangerous Ground and i’m giving away Golden Dancer. Here’s the Link - http://taralain.com/2013/11/backlist-weekend-josh-lanyon-tara-free-books/ This is one of the most popular events on my blog, so come on down! : )
Excerpt: Genetic Celebrity by Tara Lain; MMF Menage with Food!
Available at Amazon and all retailers
Tommy Riley loves cooking and the simple life. But his passion for Angie “Booky” Edelson is anything but simple. Beautiful, ambitious, hard-driving and 10 years older than Tommy, Booky represents all the things Tommy has tried to leave behind. Besides, she only seems to love him for his food! Then Tommy’s boss brings home Shay Shaleen, a pierced, tattooed, androgynous street kid for Booky to turn into a top male model. Tommy sizzles for the beautiful guy but Shay gets caught up in the flattery of a famous fashion designer. Why does Tommy have to fall for two people who can’t love him back? Is there a recipe for blending with these genetic celebrities?
THE MUSIC CHANGED to something classical. Baroque, he thought. Tommy looked up from his program. The show had been incredible, in no small part due to Shay. Every outfit the guy wore looked even more special just because he wore it. All around them, people were still whispering about the amazing new model—the face of de Chauvigny. Booky was in hog heaven. How did he feel? Confused.
Every time Shay walked out on the runway, Tommy’s cock leaped. Yet he was sitting here with his thigh pressed to Booky’s, their fingers twining and his brain plotting how soon he could get his dick back in her. Maybe how he felt was normal. Hell, Shay was beautiful, and he had sucked Tommy’s cock. Really well. Of course, so had Booky. Tommy had gone from lonely masturbation to two fantastic hookups in a few days. It was lucky he didn’t have cock whiplash. Shay’s hadn’t been for real, but Tommy’s cock didn’t know that.
One of the female models walked out in a beautiful ruby-red evening gown. Sinuous and silky, it clung to her thinness like it was moving on its own. These women were beautiful, but he had no cock response. Booky, with her full breasts and cute round butt, did it for him down to the ground. The only model who turned him on was Shay.
Two more female models pranced down the aisle in gowns, their exaggerated walks and somber faces showing the clothes to advantage. They must be getting near the end.
Again the music changed subtly, this time to the Pachelbel Canon. The runway sat empty. The lights turned a little pinker, and a background of flowers came on the screen at the back of the stage. He could feel people holding their breath. He knew he was.
Out onto the stage walked Roan wearing a tuxedo to die for. The lights glistened off the sheen of the fabric and the shiny black hair that hovered around his face. People started to applaud. Technically it should be for the clothes, but Tommy knew it was for Roan. He was that famous in his own right, and this was his first appearance in the show.
He walked to the end of the runway with that graceful stride that made everyone else look clumsy, then turned and walked back to the place where he’d entered. But he didn’t exit. Instead, he stepped to the side and waited.
The lights came up a little more, and the music swelled.
The bride. Here comes the bride.
The gown filled the stage, billowing white poufy stuff that shone like silk, as simple as a song. The high collar pushed up under Shay’s chin with a ruffle, and the slashed shoulders showed off his beautiful collarbone.
As he stepped out, people gasped. The pale hair piled on his head and fell in tendrils around his face. An embroidered veil covered the shaved side. His expression was…interesting. Bemused, with a slight smile as if he had seen himself and been just as mesmerized as the audience.
Someone whistled. Applause began and grew. He glided to the end to thunderous clapping that drowned out the music, then turned and walked halfway back until Roan came forward to meet him. Roan tucked Shay’s arm around his, and they walked again the full length of the runway, bride and groom, husband and husband.
Tommy felt wetness sliding down his cheek. His heart didn’t fit in his chest. Shay was so beautiful, and Tommy loved him.
Booky pressed a hand to his arm. “Are you okay?”
He swiped at the tears. “Yeah. They just look so…special.”
She beamed. “They do, don’t they?”
The place was going ape shit. When Roan and Shay got back to the head of the runway, they moved to the side. The parade of models passed in front of them, their jewels and satins sparkling. De Chauvigny stepped out at the end of the row, and Roan and Shay flanked him. He took both their arms and walked the runway between them to cheers, flashes, and applause. A man sitting next to Tommy was madly filing a story on his laptop, and fashion bloggers tweeted and texted in every corner.
Tommy wasn’t sure he could move, his cock hurt so bad.
Author blog: http://taralain.blogspot.com
Book blog: http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com
Hi — The character JJ LaRousse, the hero of SNOW BALLS, is one of my personal favorites and a reader fave as well. This book is coming out in print sometime in the next month. It was one of the top-selling gay romances of 2012.
Excerpt: SNOW BALLS by Tara Lain; MM Romance — The Cop and the Creampuff
Big, handsome and hunky, JJ LaRousse looks like an alpha male but acts like an interior decorator. And he’s trying to be happy about it — until a robbery at the famous Laguna Winter Fantasy brings JJ face-to-face with tough cop, Ryan Star. JJ hears Ryan likes guys who are manly men, so he drops his voice an octave, colors over his pink hair, and tries to pass as a football fan. Ryan Star may be tough but he hides in the closet at work since he learned in New York that being a gay cop can cost you your life. His attraction to that big, handsome kid threatens his anonymity, but he can’t seem to resist. JJ is just his type. But then JJ goes skiing and comes face to face with his greatest nemesis– and all the secrets come out of the closet. Can Ryan love JJ for who he really is? More important, can JJ?
“Oh my God. Rodney, did you hear about the robbery? I saw them. I saw them.” JJ knew his hands were fluttering, but he couldn’t help it. At six foot four and one ninety-eight, fluttery hands were ananomaly, but sometimes his emotions won. Sometimes? Well, maybe all the time.
“Take an end before I drop it.” Rod’s short arms could barely grasp the edges of the giant painting and it tipped precariously as he approached the booth. Rodney Mansfield’s small stature didn’t match his enormous personality.
“Sorry.” JJ grabbed the painting with one hand and lifted the burden from the little artist. He glanced at the semi-impressionistic portrait of a drool producing nude man lying on the grass in the sun, his big, relaxed cock illuminated by a ray of sunshine. Why couldn’t he find a guy like this? Well, maybe not lying on the grass nude, but a special guy. But then, having a partner meant taking care of someone and that was so not his forte.
He set the canvas on the floor of the booth at the back beside the boxes of little clownish dolls they were hoping to sell for holiday gifts at the Winter Fantasy Art and Craft Show.
Rod leaned against the sales counter and pulled off the bright aqua scarf he had wrapped three times around his neck. It might be December, but it was still a good sixty-five degrees outside. California winter. “Yeah, I heard people talking about the robbery when I came in. What’s up, darling?”
JJ flopped down on a wooden crate that held more items from the gallery for the booth. “These two guys dressed like Santa Claus and an elf apparently came in early this morning when people were just starting to set up. Everybody thought they were part of the Santa’s village display, so nobody suspected anything until Suzanne and Ollie saw them hanging around some of their jewelry boxes. Before Suzanne realized what they’d done, the guys had stolen expensive stuff from them and a bunch of other booths, too. When they went to look for them, the two men were gone.” He took a deep breath. “But I saw them!” His hands started to flutter and he curled them into fists. “They came right by here. I even talked to them!” He fanned his face. Fluttering again.
Rod reached out and grasped JJ’s hands. He smiled. Rod was so great at calming him down. JJ LaRousse might be a drama queen but Rodney knew how to handle him. “What did you say to them?”
“Something about where they’d left their reindeer and weren’t they traveling a little early.”
Rod stared at him intently. “Did they answer?”
“And what did they say?”
“The big guy, Santa, said their sleigh was double parked and you know how tough the meter maids are in Laguna. Oh hell, I laughed. Damn.”
“You’re going to have to tell all this to the police.”
JJ sighed. “I know. A cop in a uniform came over and said that a detective will be here soon to question me.” He pulled his hand from Rod’s grasp and started fanning again. He just couldn’t help it.
Rod pointed to the back wall. “So let’s get the painting hung and you can set up the rest of the booth. That’ll take your mind off of it.”
“Okay.” Rod always knew what to do. JJ stood up and grabbed a hammer and hook he’d brought for the purpose. With Rod’s guidance, the gorgeous painting by Roman, the nom de plume of Rodney Mansfield, soon dominated the back wall of the booth. They probably wouldn’t sell it here, since most people attending the exhibition were looking for Christmas gifts, and a fifteen thousand dollar painting wasn’t exactly a stocking stuffer. But it would attract people to the gallery later.
Rod stepped back. “Looks great.” He pointed at JJ’s head. “Hey, I like the new do.”
JJ patted a hand against his longish brown hair. He’d dyed it pink that morning. “I had a great role model.” It was true. Rod was JJ’s best example for how to be himself.
Rod laughed and flipped his red and green bangs. “I’m doing a holiday motif, darling.”
Voices sounded from two booths down. “Ma’am, I’d like to ask you a few questions if you wouldn’t mind.” JJ shivered. Was he scared of the police or reacting to that low, gravelly voice? He walked to the edge of the booth and peeked around the corner. Sweet dreams of baby gay boys—that was a hunk. JJ pulled back and started fanning.
Rod glanced up from his inspection of a piece of sculpture. “What?”
JJ hissed. “Look. Oh my God, look at what’s coming to question me.” The fanning hand moved so fast it was probably invisible.
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