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Off Camera by @MeganSlayer ~ Book 2 in the Complicated Series, Coming Soon!

Off Camera by Megan Slayer  Off Camera

Complicated Series, Book 2

Resplendence Publishing

Contemporary, New Adult, LGBT, M/M, Anal Sex

Navigating college is hard, but not as hard as learning to love and trust.

Kade Evans knew what he wanted to do with his life—write scripts for Hollywood. He’s poured his heart into his work and learning the tricks of the trade, but being only twenty-one he knows he needs experience. How’s a guy supposed to get experience when he’s shy and quiet? The answer might be closer and more forceful than he thinks.

Tony Victor’s goal in life is to make movies. He won’t quit until he’s working on the next blockbuster. First, he’s got to get through college and get the handsome guy from script writing class to notice him. Tony’s never had trouble getting attention, but something about Kade calls to him. Tony’s head says go slow, but his heart is ready to take things to the next level. Will these two find common ground or will the simmering passion between them fall apart when their secrets are revealed?

Coming in February from Resplendence Publishing: http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/


©Megan Slayer, 2015, All Rights Reserved

Tony bobbed his head to the heavy beat and wandered around his tiny apartment. He needed to say the right thing to Kade. One wrong move and he’d screw everything up even more.

“Hi. We met during class today. I’ve been watching you for the last two months and hoped you’d notice me. You haven’t, so I acted like a jerk in order to grab your attention.” He shook his head. Yeah, that wouldn’t work. “Remember me? I still want to work with you on this project. I’m an ass, but I’ve got my heart in the right place.” No. He’d been thinking with his cock, not his heart.

Tony drummed his fingers on the table, then picked up the telephone. He pressed the numbers for Kade and held his breath. Here goes nothing…

“Hello?” Kade’s voice came across the line. “Who is this?”

“Hi.  It’s Tony. I’m in Scriptworks with you.” He balled his fist. “I wanted to talk to you about the project.”

“You do, eh?” Kade sighed. “I’m not interested.”

“Wait. Don’t hang up.” Christ. He hated to be wimpy and beg. “I can do this project without you, but I’d like to talk to you.”

“You stole that book out of my hands.”

“Would you believe I did it in order to get you to talk to me?”

“What? No. I don’t believe you. I’m hanging up now.”

“Don’t.” He closed his eyes. “I’m really trying right now.” And something deep within him ripped in half. “Please?”

Kade said something Tony didn’t understand, then growled. “If I decide to talk this over with you and think about doing this project together, will you give me the book back? I have to get the paper done by next Wednesday.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Like he’d actually keep the book. He didn’t need a description of Hitchcock’s works. Tony gripped the phone tighter. “Deal. Meet me at Harvard Place in half an hour. I’m in apartment 5-C. I’ll wait in the foyer. Interested?”

Kade didn’t answer for a long time and with each passing moment, Tony’s heart sank. He opened his eyes and began to pace again. If he didn’t get an answer, he’d know the truth. He’d fucked up.

“Okay,” Kade said. “I’ll do this, but only because I want my book.”

“Sweet.” Tony loosened his grip. “See you in half an hour?”

“Yeah.” Kade hung up, leaving Tony in silence.

Tony collapsed on the armchair and exhaled. Kade was coming over. One challenge down. Now he had to convince the hunk to stick around. He swept his gaze over his apartment. Cleaning up would be good. He wanted to make the right impression in order to reach the desired end game—Kade in his bed.



Winners from TRS Party!



Hello to all.

I’m really late picking the winners from last weeks contests but better late than never!

A copy of No Denying Sin

Vicki W

A book of your choice and a $5GC from Amazon

Tara W

Orrin’s Prize Pack (A copy of NDS, a GC from Starbucks, N’awlins Exotica Jewelry, a coffee mug, and another special prize thrown in.)


Thanks to everyone for all the great comments.

There will be a blogtour for NDS hosted by Pride Promotions on January 26th.

Stay tuned to my page on Facebook for details!

Glow! Now In a Box Set for you by Megan Slayer

The Glow Box Set by Megan Slayer  GLOW box set cover art

Glow — the band with more than a little paranormal element to its stage presence. Meet the guys in the band…

* Zac “Iceman” Frost controls the stage with the band Glow. Atria controls fire. She’s everything he needs… if he can withstand the burn.
* Being away from Luc is killing Tay. What’s a guy to do when his lover is the very air he breathes?
* Tallulah’s nothing like what Ike wants, but everything he needs…
* Slash Gunderson’s place behind the drums for Glow is a dream come true. But can he accept his need for kink and the man who makes his heart beat?
* Ansen keeps feelings out of the equation — until he meets Willow, who lives in the shadows and keeps the band’s fan site.
* Pixie wants more, including the sexy radio jock she met at a Glow concert. That is, if he’s up for grabs.
* Callum knew the moment he met Sarah she was the woman for him. But life in the band took him away. Now he’s back… to stay?

This Box Set contains the previously published titles Fire Woman, The Air I Breathe, Wrapped Around, Down to Earth, Here Without You, Wild Flower, Christmas Glow, and Sweet and Wild.

Changeling Press: http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2335

BN: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/glow-megan-slayer/1121000832?ean=2940149858262

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-glowboxset-1719116-143.html


Glow (Box Set)
Megan Slayer
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Megan Slayer
Excerpt from Fire Woman

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

A thousand bodies swaying to the hypnotic rhythm, but not a one for me.

Atria pushed through the throng of people. Smoke and sweat clung in the air. She crinkled her nose. Too many writhing limbs and not enough air to breathe. One of the concertgoers, a punk kid with a piercing glittering in his nose, tossed her a sneer. The four-inch spikes of ebony hair on his head reminded her of lethal weapons. “Wannabe,” the teen snapped.

Snorting, she pushed past him. “Bathe.” He might be dangerous in a rebellious teenager sort of way, but he had nothing on her.

“Go home,” he growled and put his palm up. “This line is for passes and hardcore Glow fans.”

Atria flicked her fingers, sending an arc of flame to his hand. His eyes widened, and his skin paled beyond the white makeup. The facade of bad boy melted into scared child as he backed away from her.

“What the hell?” His voice shook. “I didn’t mean for you to kill me.”

She leaned in close enough for him to hear her over the roar of the music. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d be toast by now.”

The punk shook his head and backed away. His body trembled. “You’re a freak — a scary freak. What the fuck?”

Good, she thought and continued to the door. Always nice to be recognized as different. Along the way, two more rowdy kids shoved at her. Both found out the hard way — through a minor hair fire and scorched eyebrows — Atria Moline didn’t play games.

“She burnt me!” The kid with blue streaked hair stormed the guard. “That bitch burned me. I’ll have to shave my damned head.”

“Consider it an improvement,” the bouncer snapped. “Go.” One brow rose as he considered Atria. “How many?”

She sighed. “I only scorched three, Hiram.” Trust her big brother to call her on the carpet. “They didn’t burn. Just a little sizzle and everything will grow back. Maybe.”

“Your sizzle will get your ass arrested.” Hiram sniffed the air and blew out a long breath.”You burned hair and it smells like ass. Don’t do that again. Sister or not, I will hurt you.”

“No you won’t. You love me and you’ll protect me because I’m your sister.” She braced her hands on her hips. “Ha.”

“Whatever, brat. Are you here to see Lucien?” His smile widened. “Or have you finally found the nerve to talk to Zac?”

“Shut up.” The response sounded one hell of a lot better than, I want to jump his bones and ride to Arizona. Damn it. Luc wanted pictures taken after the gig. “I’m here to photograph, not hurl myself at anyone.” Shit. That sounded goofy, especially since she didn’t have her camera in plain sight. The thought crossed her mind — had she remembered it at all?

“Uh-huh.” He twisted the knob and allowed her into the inner sanctum — the backstage area. “Next time, keep the camera around your neck for credibility.”

Although Atria considered giving her brother the middle finger, she refrained and shivered. She’d been backstage at the Steelyards plenty of times. Luc and his band, Glow, played lots of places, plenty of them creepier than the former factory warehouse. Why the hell did the massive room scare her? One name came to mind. Zac.


She plopped down onto a nearby folding chair and closed her eyes. Zacchaeus “Iceman” Frost. Goofy name for a hot man. Hot? Okay, so the guy was handsome in a brooding, six-foot-five manner. She licked her lips as a clear image of Zac came together in her mind.

Muscles just where a woman wanted to lick. Hardly a stitch of hair on him and a just one tattoo on his back — a spider web or medieval design — she wasn’t sure and didn’t care. And those eyes, the pristine blue of the North Atlantic. Heat zipped through her veins.

Was he packing? The bulge in the front of his leathers hinted at more than enough to please. Need tingled in her pussy, and Atria crossed her legs to stave off the sensations.

“I want you, Attie.” His sensual lips curled into a smile. “Now.”

Her breath came in labored puffs as she opened to him. Just to feel his callused hands on her body, tweaking her nipples, drawing out her fire and scorching them through and through.

“What are you doing?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Zac’s voice, and not from her fantasy, came through loud and clear. The music stopped, leaving her in the thick throb of the crowd noise just on the other side of the wall…

* * * * *

Megan Slayer – It’s Always Fun to Squirm
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Character Bio for Orrin Daugherty – CONTEST Orrin’s Prize Pack

NoDeny1  Authors love their characters. They’re like children that they like to play with, nurture, and see them grow up. In my case, I love all my characters, I really do even when they act like asses, but ever so often one of them will stand out more than others.

In past stories I’ve had Nathan Ellerby from My Lieutenant, William from The Power of Muse and Inspiration, Jayden from Something About Jayden, and of course Kajika from I Like Em Pretty. 

This time around I fell in love with Orrin Daugherty. He appears in book one ILEP as well as I Love it Rough and by the time I was done with book 2, I knew Orrin had to have his own story. 



For those who know me, I love pictures of models, actors, and or singers to act as my inspiration for my characters.

This is my picture of Orrin Daugherty. (The model’s name is Steve Boyd. I don’t own the picture.)

SteveBoyd4 Orrin is a young hard nosed detective with no tolerance for bullshit. He’s not an alpha male per say, but he does like to take charge at times. Because both parents were taken away by cancer, Orrin is a health nut. He doesn’t smoke, he loves hazelnut from Starbucks and he drinks liquor ever so often to relax after long days at precinct nineteen. Orrin considers himself pansexual because even though he’s mostly dated men, women can turn his head too. In the first two stories he was attracted to my beloved transsexual character Naomi Beneviere and he even looked at Kenina Porter along the way but because of his fear of commitment, he hasn’t tried to date anyone on the regular.

Due to his past problems at his last precinct in Boston, Orrin transferred to New Orleans and quickly became one of Nola’s finest homicide detectives. He doesn’t date on the job and he generally keeps the edge off by working out in the fitness center in his apartment building on Baronne Avenue, near the French Quarter. 

Though a nice guy, Orrin doesn’t mince words and he curses like a sailor. In this book, he makes comments both snarky and philosophical. 

Here’s an example

“What are ya havin?” The bartender nodded.

Orrin hit the bar. “Tonight a Jack and Coke.” And he needed one after talking with Vance this afternoon.

“That sounds like a plan. I’ll have one too.” Vance moved closer to him and grabbed his shoulder.

Fuck, don’t do that!

Despite the urges to move away, he didn’t. “Okay, I’m buying then.”

“No, let me.” Vance pulled out his billfold and slapped a twenty down.

“Thanks.” Orrin took the drink and sipped just enough to feel the burn going down his throat. The man must’ve enjoyed being heavy handed with his whiskey because the chaser was nonexistent.

“No problem. So, uh, what did you come up with when you went back to the station, since you didn’t want to ride in with me tonight?”

“I didn’t because I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“That we might be dating?”

“No, you nimrod. I just didn’t want anyone to see a pattern. You know, kind of switch things up a little bit.”

“Naw, naw, Daugherty. No one’s paying that close attention to us. You wanna appear single.”

“Which I am…”

“Won’t be for long,” Vance mused.

Orin smirked and shoved his hand off him. It was there so long he thought it might’ve left a handprint. “You’re so sure you gonna break me, huh, cowboy?”

“I am, ‘cause I know you want me. You know you wanna pull me over that fence and kiss me like there’s no tomorrow.”

Hells yeah!

“I won’t deny it, man, but rules are rules. I won’t keep reminding you.”

“Good, ‘cause it’s just noise. Words that don’t mean a whole helluva lot to me.”

“Hmph, but my words mean everything to me, partner.”

“Sure they do, to you. And you like hearing yourself say them over and over, even though they ain’t true.”

“Yeah, it is. That’s how I feel.” Orrin gulped the rest of his drink down. Damn it, he needed another, but if he did, he might end up pushing Vance against the bar and tasting what flavor gum he might’ve been chewing earlier. He shook his head and pushed the glass away. “Really, it is.”

Vance laughed and placed his hand on the small of Orrin’s back. “Okay, babe. Talk business so we can do our job effectively, all right? What did you find out about the victims?”

“Both have a history of dealing and assaults as long as my fucking arm. The twenty-two year old was actually on probation while his father had been in prison several times for drugs, illegal possession of a weapon, and domestic battery.”

“Were they gang members?”

“I’m thinking so. I took a look at the corpses. Both had several insignias on their chests. No gang I’d ever heard before though—the Lyfers.”

“Oh I’ve heard of ‘em. When I first came through N’awlins, I arrested a couple of them during training on the beat. A lot of them operate around Louis Three too.”

“Yeah, well, these two Lyfers ain’t alive no more. Has me thinking if it was retaliation by rival gangs or the girl.”

“Unless the girl was a part of the rival gang?”

Orrin waved his finger in the air. Though Vance’s hand on him was a distraction, he happened to like it on his body. “Could be. I say, we need to lean on that little girl some more. Her momma seemed like she was on something, though, so I’m not sure how far we get. We need her permission to interview her at the station.”

“Yep. Shame, isn’t it? Unless we could find someone else as a guardian. I think another family member stays in the house with them, actually.”

“Then we need to find that person.” Orrin moved forward and motioned for the bartender again.

“Yeah we do. Wanna go back over there tomorrow?”

“We could, but I’m not in until after twelve. Coming to this club late at night is fucking exhausting. Hey man, another round? I’ll get this one.” Orrin yanked some money out of his suit pocket.

“All right, sexy, I won’t argue with ya.” Vance winked and licked his lips.

“Now, you gonna go there, huh? Please don’t.”

“Why not? It turns ya on too much?”

“I… no… yeah, fuck! Damn it, Vance, cut that shit, right?”

Vance slinked up to him and ran his hand across his lower back. “Why?”

Hot breath on his ear, Orrin closed his eyes and took the drink in hand. “Cause, you’re bad. You’re down right lethal. I won’t fall into this fucking trap with you.”

“I’m not lethal. Oh shit, who’s on next? Pretty boy, or…”

“Naw man, he ain’t here, remember?” Orrin gulped the contents of his glass and put it down. “Naomi’s the main act tonight.”

“And Brayden…”

“Yep.” Orrin moistened his lips and sighed. “I suppose the big man is now the main event since Kajika cut back on his dancing. The women love him.”

“And he don’t love them.”

“He likes you, though, so why don’t you hit that? If I were you, I would!”

“Nope, he ain’t my type.”

“Why the hell not? The man is fucking gorgeous, Vance! He’s had his eye on you something fierce.

“Maybe, but I ain’t interested. He’s nice looking and all…”

“Very. So, shit, go for it, cowboy. You can ride that babe all night!” Orrin would’ve liked to.

“Nope.” Vance leaned in. “You’re more my speed. I knew this when we first started working together. I was fighting it—I really was—but now I know what I like.”

“Stop that, cowboy! Stop it right now.” Orrin waved his hand at the man behind the bar again. “You and I both know it ain’t a good idea, so stop trying to convince me. We work together. We can hang. But that’s where it ends. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

If only Orrin could believe his own words. Though he wasn’t willing to bend his own rules, the more things Vance said and did, the more it weakened his defenses.

He wished they could find this killer, so they wouldn’t have an excuse to come to Exotica every night for long.

This shit was getting to him in more ways than one.

* * * *

Hope you enjoyed that little exchange

So, comment on this post to win an Orrin Prize Pack. (A copy of NDS, a GC from Starbucks, N’awlins Exotica Jewelry, a coffee mug, and another special prize thrown in.)

Answer this question: Who is Orrin’s partner at the department?

A. Frankie

B: Vance

C: Kenina

D: Waylon

Just answer and leave your email. The one I pick with the right answer wins!

Another Excerpt – I Love it Rough M/M Michael Mandrake

Roughmm1 Livin’ in N’awlins ain’t all that easy…

Kajika Fortier loves his job, the attention he gets from onlookers, and Frankie Choteau. However, his new partner’s jealousy, mood swings, and over protectiveness drives Kajika to the brink but at the same time, excites him to no end.

To complicate things further, a murderer is on the loose looking for blood. All three of the killer’s victims are strippers which not only makes Frankie nervous about Kajika’s safety but leaves him questioning his love for being a homicide detective. Coupled with the stresses of cold cases as well as some fellow officers shunning him for coming out, Frankie is having second thoughts about staying in New Orleans. Despite the encouragement from Vance, Kenina, and Orrin as well as new chief Quinn Murray, Frankie is wondering if his life’s passion really is to catch the killers.

Will the new couple survive these new issues that impede their nearly perfect union? Or will the relationship fail, thus leaving Kajika alone and a target for New Orleans latest serial killer? Detective Choteau and Kajika’s commitment to one another is being tested in more ways than one and they only have one another to lean on.

Available for FREE on Kindle Unlimited


Excerpt Rated R

Within minutes, Waylon Mooney, NOPD’s newest CSI, stepped in along with Moto, the coroner, to inspect Lana Miles’ bruised body. Not a moment too soon either, since Frankie could no longer stomach the sight of his lover’s friend in that state.

The twosome immediately got to work taking photos, flashing lights over certain body parts, and checking for other clues along with Kenina.

Frankie stepped to the side, searching for anything the suspect could’ve dropped before murdering poor Lana.

“Whew. This case is more to my liking, actually. Vance’s was pretty cut and dry; a drive by that left a kid dead in the street, but this? I love some intrigue when it comes to my crime scenes.” Waylon flashed a wide smile and pushed his black rimmed glasses up on his nose. “I swear I’m up to my damn chin already with cases, and I only been here a couple of weeks. I ain’t complaining though, folks, believe you me.”

Kenina harrumphed. “Well, Vance said you’d be busy, Waylon. This ain’t that small town shit you dealt with in the backwoods near Dallas.” Kenina flicked some pages in her notebook and made notes.

Kenina clicked her heels and turned to face Frankie. “Right, partner? Remind Waylon what he might be up against.

“Hmm?” Frankie wiped his cheeks and sniffed. “I’m sorry, Kenie, I kinda got lost there a moment. What were you saying?”

Waylon stared at Frankie curiously before he dropped his gaze in the direction of his notebook. “Nevermind that. Listen, on the way over, I heard this was the third killing in this part of town in less than a month and a half. Lana was the second transsexual of the three and all by strangulation.”

Frankie nodded, trying to get his head back in the game. Lately he’d been wondering if he was still cut out for police work, getting all emotional about victims and the criminals that terrorized the streets. Didn’t help that his mentor, Chief Ballmore, retired suddenly due to a stroke.  He loved the man like a father. “So we might be dealing with a serial killer then?”

“Yeah, Frankie, damn. Isn’t that obvious? Jeez, honey, it might be time for you to take some time off or something. Kajika softening you up?” Kenina playfully slapped his shoulder.

Frankie’s brows furrowed. “Naw, girl! Go on, Waylon.” He lightly shoved her away.

“The poor gal was tied up too tight by this monster. Her wrists got burned from that thick rope the fucker bound her with.” Waylon tilted his head toward the body.

“Looking at the dried ejaculate between her thighs, he might’ve had sex with her after he strangled her.” Moto added and continued to inspect Lana’s throat.

“I mean, damn, I got kinks, but I ain’t ever having sex with no dead bodies!” Waylon laughed and pulled out his camera to take extra shots of Lana.

Kenina made notes in her book.

Frankie rolled his eyes, knowing this Waylon character was a true quack. Most CSI’s were a little on the weird side, but he believed this Waylon person definitely took the cake.

“Obviously this monster applied a lot of pressure. See the pronounced petechiae on her face and chest? The guys back at the station are pulling up the info on the other victims to see if there’s any ties between them that made this killer pick them.” Moto slightly moved the sheets.

“Anybody in the building see anything, Kenina?”

“Sampson says they only spoke to the landlady about noise.”

Frankie kept his back turned to the scene and exhaled. “We should go talk with the landlady to see what else she knows about the victim and if she saw anything.  About how long has she been dead?”

Moto clicked the flash and turned to Frankie. “About three and a half hours. Rigor mortis hasn’t set in just yet, and the wounds are pretty fresh. Approximately ten thirty-ish.”

Waylon nodded in agreement. “Hey, Frankie, you okay, man? You seem a little shaken up.”

Frankie shuddered at the thought, thinking of what Kajika said about needing to be on the stage because Lana Miles didn’t show up for her routine.

Unfortunately, now he knew the real reason why.

Contest Reminders!


Just a reminder, I’m still giving away a copy of No Denying Sin

An ebook, winners choice and a $5GC

Make sure you comment on the post links with your email and you’ll be entered!

Permanent by Megan Slayer ~ An Oldie but a Goodie for the #NewYear

Permanent by Megan Slayer permanent_800

M/M, BDSM, Anal Sex, Toys, Voyeurism

Contemporary Novella


Sometimes love just ain’t enough…

River Cortland trusted the person he loved. His faith couldn’t protect him from the bitter sting of a cold-hearted Domme. If he’s going to learn to trust again, he’s got to deal with his past. His roommate and best friend, Tory, has seen the physical damage and hasn’t walked away. Can he deal with the emotional scars as well?

Tory McClellan wanted the carefree life…until one night with River changed everything. There’s more to the shy art teacher and Tory wants to know everything-how he tastes, the scent of his skin, the feel of his body as they make love. What terror lies behind River’s brown eyes? Better yet, how can Tory make the sadness go away and be in River’s life, permanently?

Reader Advisory: This story contains flashbacks of a rape, anal sex, light bondage and spanking.

Available At:

Total-E-Bound: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1501

AllRomance Ebooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-permanent-765686-147.html

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Permanent-ebook/dp/B007O7R7NA/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1332798477&sr=1-2

BN:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/permanent-megan-slayer/1110738194?ean=9780857158567

©Megan Slayer, 2014, All Rights Reserved

“Let’s dry you off.” Tory helped River to his feet. He worked the towel over River’s ravaged body then made sure River got into his bed. No one went through so much abuse by playing or just being drunk. Something had to have happened. Something bad. Had he been beaten because he was gay? Did he come on to the wrong person? Had he been raped? God, what had River got into?

River opened his eyes as best he could. Tears slipped down his temples. “Stay with me?”

Tory nodded. “Let me make sure the door is locked and I’ll be right back.” He then checked the locks, turned off the lights and returned to River’s bedroom. He tugged his T-shirt up over his head and shimmied out of his jeans. River wasn’t just his roommate—he was Tory’s best friend. No way could he leave River alone—he’d just stay on top of the blankets. Tory eased onto the bed beside River and wrapped his arms around him.

“Promise me,” River whispered, “you’ll never go to Darkness.”

“Why?” Tory snuggled up close behind River. “What happened?”

“It was bad.” River shifted against Tory, entwining their fingers. “Real bad.”

“I know someone you can talk to, if you don’t want to tell me. She’s a wonderful person and can help you deal with whatever happened.” Tory gave River’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m here to help you. Always here for you.”

* * * * *

Megan Slayer – It’s Always Fun to Squirm

What’s wrong with Twinlove?

MonTrois Greetings readers, so glad you stopped by to listen to me today. My topic is the appeal of twin love or twincest which derives from the word incest. Yeah I know, you think it’s yucky. Sex between family members is totally taboo. I used to think this and actually some of the “cest” still doesn’t do it for me but it’s something about twins, especially twin men that makes it hot as hell.

Why? Two men who look exactly alike in most cases and they’re making love to one another. It’s like having sex with yourself with a mirror nearby. *giggles* Yes that’s how I view it. Not that long ago, I didn’t see myself actually writing it but then, a reader came to me and requested a story. You might know her, Judie S, who is also known as Honey Bunny. At times she does promo for several authors and when I started writing as Michael Mandrake almost 4 years ago, she put a request in the comments on my blog to write a twincest story. I was really flattered that someone was reading my freebie and asking me to write a story, then I said, twincest? OMG, how can I do that? I worried about how I’d do it and what kind of story. Most of all, I was challenging my own moralities sort of speak because I’d always been taught any kind of incest is wrong. But if we totally went by the “book” then every erotica book would be banished right? Seems that way with how retailers are going after erotica authors but that’s another topic for another day.

Going back to my point, it took me awhile to get around to it. Not only because of my own fears but also the books I was working on. Michael was pretty prolific when I first started writing under him. Now, he fades back in the shadows and waits his turn but when me and the muse discussed doing an erotica story, he jumped at the chance. Although he is usually the least “sexual” muse, he loved the idea of tapping into a taboo fantasy of twin brothers in love. And when we finally talked to Judie, Ryland and Ryder Durand were born. Twin vamps who are identical but with different personalities. Ryland is the more conservative, stuffy, and timid character while Ryder is ragged, bold, and fearless. In the story, you can clearly tell by their speech and their dress how different they are. I’m sure this happens in real life too and being immortal is what makes them special.

So what is the appeal? Love between brothers, hot scorching love and sex. The vampire thing makes it easy too and even though they aren’t human, they wrestle with the fact it isn’t accepted but hey, it happens in books and in real life. I wanted to bring that reality to my tale and I hope I succeeded. Ryland and Ryder’s final book will be out sometime in December. And because of

Judie as well as awesome authors like Lee Brazil and Sage Whistler, I was able to do this series with confidence.

So, if you’re into erotica, any kind, don’t dismiss some subgenres quickly just because it seems yucky. I’ve read some other “cests” since then and I enjoyed a few. I learned to expand my mind as a reader and author, and because of that, I created a story I’m very proud of.

What about you? What are some of the taboos in fiction you’ll never touch? Is twincest one of them and if so, tell me why. Thanks for listening.



Mon Frere, My True Love N’awlins Exotica Paranormal #1

Blurb: Twin vamps Ryland and Ryder Durand are only different in personality while the rest is exactly the same. Ryland, the author is calm and conservative while Ryder the club owner is wild and lewd. However, the brothers share the same dark desire and haven’t informed one another. Will that bring them closer together or sever their relationship for all eternity?

‘To Louis One Cemetery I shall return, away from the fray of humans, looking to make a mockery of me, fawning over my body as if I were some kind of celebrity. Damn these people, damn them all to hell! In time, I shall see to it they meet the so called Maker much earlier than they expected.’

Ryland tapped the keys for the last words of his latest story and leaned back in the leather recliner, content with his work. “Brilliant. Just in time to post the latest installment before the weekend,” he sighed to himself and clicked the “x” button to close the window on his laptop screen. Satisfied with his work for the evening, he glanced at the clock in the corner and noticed he’d been writing for the last four hours straight, with no breaks.

Just one of the many benefits of being an immortal.

Ryland smiled to himself and gripped the golden chalice containing blood from his latest kill. He sniffed it first, allowing it to fill his nostrils before putting it to his lips. Type AB, excellent. Though he hated the being he’d become, he couldn’t deny the sweet taste of fresh blood from a human. After taking one sip, the warmth trickled down his throat, sending tiny bits of adrenaline to his nipples, making them pebble underneath his shirt. The slow burn settled in his chest, making him gasp. Immediately after, his groin stirred in his trousers, causing him to squirm uncomfortably in the chair. Ryland closed his eyes and held the chalice tightly, savoring every little bit of his victim’s blood. He sat it down and stared at it, admiring the tiny gems on the container.

Something about a young man’s blood, better than any other.

Ryland hadn’t been happy about his brother’s choice of existence nor the decision he made on Ryland’s behalf, but they were young and Ryder, who’d always been the most immature one, did what he thought was best so they’d survive. Besides, they’d spent the majority of their early childhood without a mother and father and only each other to lean on. Such a horrible fate for two young boys, still growing up and learning the ways of the world. Perhaps it was best to be taken under the wing of a vamp to be taught things from the other side. At least they had one person to guard and watch over them on the early stages of their lives.

When thinking about his parents, a small tear ran from Ryland’s eye down to the base of his cheek. Despite all of what he’d seen, he’d never forget that awful day when their world was torn apart during the Natchez War in the early 1700’s.

* * * *

A log cabin at White Apple, in Mississippi late 1723

“Ryland, don’t cry. We will all be together.” Ryland’s mother Jean held him close to her firm bosom and caressed his head. Take care of your younger brother. You must be strong like your papa!”

Ryland continued to wail and his younger brother stood in silence with his father. After Jean and Jacque Durand kissed them, both parents shoved the young boys into a door underneath the floor of their cabin so they wouldn’t be captured by anyone and taken into slavery.

“Shhh… Ryland, we must be quiet if we’re not to get caught,” Ryder whispered to his older brother by only minutes.

Still upset, Ryland sniffed and wiped his eyes, wanting so badly to be by his parent’s side. Something told him they wouldn’t be together as their mother had promised though he hoped he was wrong about his inclination.

Ryland and Ryder held one another when they heard heavy footsteps over their heads. Ryland shuddered and covered his own mouth and his brother’s.

It must be the French!

“Vous là-bas, femme! Viens ici maintenant! Est-ce que votre mari indien?” (You there, woman! Come here now! Is this Indian your husband?)


Ryland and Ryder closed their eyes tightly. Ryland himself prayed to the gods above, hoping they would save their parents from harm.

In moments, the twins jumped when they heard two gunshots ring out.

“Nooo… tu l’as tué, tu dois me tuer aussi!” (You killed him, you must kill me too!) Their mother’s loud crying and then they heard rumbles and laughter from the Frenchmen mocking her.

They’ve shot my father and now they’re taking my mother! How could you oh great one? Why didn’t you save them as I asked?

Ryland wept in silence as did his brother who held him tighter against his chest.

Now what would come of them with their father dead and their mother in captivity?

You can download these for FREE on Smashwords

Another Excerpt from NDS M/M HOT EXCERPT!

NoDeny1  Good morning again. Here’s another excerpt from No Denying Sin

Blurb: Living in the Big Easy is downright deadly especially if you’re a stripper. When another exotic dancer is found dead in her apartment, the heat mounts on Frankie and his fellow detectives to find the killer. Due to the magnitude of this unsolved mystery along with the LaBoy murders, tension runs high at nineteen making it hard for all to breathe around the police station and sending everyone into a frenzy.

There’s no denying Frankie’s love for Kajika but in the back of his mind, hot thoughts of the mutual jerk off with Orrin Daugherty loom over his head. Though the feelings are mutual, Orrin wants nothing to do with this and pushes Frankie away. Add in to the mix his fascination with partner Vance Morain along with his severe case of blue balls and you got one hell of a predicament for these for complex and volatile men.

The men at nineteen are burning with desire for one another and pleasure is beginning to be almost as important as business.

Will the sinful disruptions stop them from finding the killer roaming the streets of the Big Easy?

This is book 3 of N’awlins Exotica Series. Doesn’t necessarily need to be read in order.

WARNING: Lots of lewd dialogue and smoldering sex between males.





More toying between Orrin and Vance. HOT excerpt!

“Okay, here we are.” Orrin waved Vance into his apartment.

“Whoa—man, this is nice. Way bigger than my li’l tuna can.” Vance laughed. And it was. Way bigger. Vance and Orrin made about the same amount of money, so of course he wondered how his partner could afford all this. “And how much you paying here?”

“Fourteen hundred a month, but I also have a parking space and valet. There’s some extra things thrown in to my rent too—use of the spa and fitness center, for one. It’s all worth it, though. I love it here. I actually had my eye on another place that was more expensive, but then I found this one just before I signed the other lease.”

“Well, that’s some good luck right there.” Vance surveyed the place, feeling mighty envious. He liked his little hole in the wall, but he had to admit, he’d trade with Orrin in a heartbeat if given the opportunity.

“It’s quiet for the most part. Nice view. The neighbors are nice,” Orrin babbled for a bit. Then he seemed to notice it and promptly stopped talking. “Um, I need to hit the sack. Which room you wanna take?”

The one you’re sleeping in.

“Uh, don’t matter, man. As long as it’s a comfortable bed in there, I’m not picky.”

“All right, follow me to the second one on the right side of the hallway. You’re welcome to whatever you want in the fridge if you get hungry too.”

Vance nodded while trying his best not to stare at his partner and follow him to his own bedroom. “Um, yeah, thanks man.”

Orrin walked ahead of him, opening the door. “There you go. Nothing’s been touched or slept on in there, and I just cleaned it last weekend.”

“Cool.” Vance walked in and eyed the simple, white bedroom with cherry wood furniture surrounding the four post bed. “This looks comfy. Thanks for letting me stay.”

“Anytime, Morain. Good night and sleep well.” Orrin spun around and closed the door behind him.

“You too.” Vance listened to the footsteps fade and shucked his jacket off his shoulders. The bed was definitely calling his name, but the urge to rub one off seemed more appeasing to him than getting shut eye. He’d been sporting a painful hard on most of the night being around his hotter-than-hell partner, and the effects of no sex were starting to get the best of him.

“Damn, Orrin.” Vance reached down between his legs and massaged his rock hard erection through his slacks. How would he be able to do this with his host in the room across the hallway? He had no idea, but he had to do something to get rid of these blue balls temporarily.

Nothing was worse than trying to sleep with that much pressure on your groin.

Without much effort, Vance peeled his clothing off and placed everything in the recliner closest to the bed. The moment the cool sheets hit his skin, he shivered but enjoyed the comfort of the mattress nonetheless. It was perfect, firm just where he needed it, but not hard enough to hurt.

Since it was still relatively warm, Vance kept the covers off his body and lay back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling fan above his head. Orrin’s hot body, supple ass, and light hazel eyes ran like a DVR in his mind. That smile, the Boston accent, the way he slipped his lips over the beer bottle when he drank.


Thoroughly aroused, Vance took his hard on in hand, rubbing the slick tip with his thumb. He slowly fisted himself and gyrated his hips forward. He wished Orrin was in bed with him right now either doing the same thing or giving him head. Nothing would’ve been hotter than to have his partner there to share in this moment with him.

“Damn, Orrin. What you do to me.” With one hand still on his dick, he moved the other to his chest, rubbing his finger over one of his taut nipples. He twisted it hard and inhaled sharply while he thought about Orrin’s ass completely swallowing his cock. “Jesus.”

Vance sped up his motions and closed his eyes. Minute by minute, the pain on his groin increased, sending shocks to all his erogenous zones. He bit down on his bottom lip, causing more discomfort. He had to, or any moment now he’d scream and Orrin would come running asking what’s wrong. He had to keep quiet so his partner wouldn’t catch him in the act.

He grunted and turned over on his side just enough to muffle his noises. All it took was one more push of the hips and thick ropes shot out of his cock, covering his stomach and the sheets beneath him. He didn’t mean to soil the covers, but it was better than yelling and waking Orrin out of a deep sleep. He’d just have to insist on washing the things before they left his apartment.

As his breaths slowed, he wiped his moistened forehead with the back of his hand and reached over to the nightstand, grabbing some tissue. If he weren’t so ready to explode, he would’ve come in the Kleenex to avoid the mess.

Nevertheless, Vance was temporarily satisfied and covered himself with the couple of sheets. Unlike some men, he had no issue sleeping in the wet spot on the right of him. Not like he could take the things off the bed right now anyway.

After cleaning up what he could, he rolled over and yawned, wrapping himself up tight in the covers. Before he could think anything more about his partner, sleep won over and put him down for the count.

No Denying Sin Excerpt #2

NoDeny1  Here’s another excerpt from NDS!

Living in the Big Easy is downright deadly especially if you’re a stripper. When another exotic dancer is found dead in her apartment, the heat mounts on Frankie and his fellow detectives to find the killer. Due to the magnitude of this unsolved mystery along with the LaBoy murders, tension runs high at Nineteen making it hard for all to breathe around the police station and sending everyone into a frenzy.

There’s no denying Frankie’s love for Kajika but in the back of his mind, hot thoughts of the mutual jerk off with Orrin Daugherty loom over his head. Though the feelings are mutual, Orrin wants nothing to do with this and pushes Frankie away. Add in to the mix his fascination with partner Vance Morain along with his severe case of blue balls and you got one hell of a predicament for these for complex and volatile men.

The men at Nineteen are burning with desire for one another and pleasure is beginning to be almost as important as business.

Will the sinful disruptions stop them from finding the killer roaming the streets of the Big Easy?

This is book 3 of N’awlins Exotica Series. Doesn’t necessarily need to be read in order.

WARNING: Lots of lewd dialogue and smoldering sex between males.





Vance rubbed the scruff on his chin and adjusted his rear view before pulling off onto the street. He could’ve sworn he’d just heard Frankie trying to convince Orrin to stay at the station. And it sounded a like he was persuading him for other reasons and not just to solve cases.

What the hell was wrong with him?

“Damn it, Choteau, I know you ain’t cheatin’ on that fine young thang you got sitting at home.” Vance made the wide turn to address the beat cops announced over the radio—3416 Natchez Avenue, not too far away from the Miles girls’ apartment where she was also strangled to death.

Just what was with this killer and his desire to murder women by strangulation? What kind of nutcase were they were dealing with, and why didn’t they have any clues to find this son of a bitch? Vance wished he had all the answers, but unfortunately, just like everyone else, he was clueless about this and the LaBoy case.

Hell, he was stuck on stupid about a lot of things right now, especially his sexuality. If only there was an answer to this as well as the cases plaguing him and all of nineteen, he’d be a much happier man.

As he approached the address, a car cut out in front of him, nearly causing a head on collision. He slammed on the brakes so hard his foot throbbed from the pressure.

“Fucking asshole!”

People had no respect for police or any people of authority these days. Didn’t matter that the freaking blue lights and sirens were on, sounding an emergency. The driver of that car obviously had something more important to do.

Like scoring some drugs.

Or running away from the scene of a crime, perhaps? Too bad Vance didn’t get a good look at the black car’s license plate. At this stage of the killer’s spree, any kind of clue would be welcomed.

“New Orleans Police Department. Step aside,” he yelled out the window as he pulled on the side of the vehicle Choteau and Daughtery rode in to the crime scene. Vance opted to take another because he thought Kenina might jump in the car with them. Lord knows he didn’t want to get into anymore arguments with that woman tonight.

He flashed his badge to fellow officers and ducked under the yellow tape to enter the building of the deceased. The moment he opened the door, the stench of rotten flesh hit him like an uppercut to his jaw. “Fuck.”

Vance yanked his handkerchief from his pocket and covered his mouth. On the way up, he passed Sampson in the hallway, looking pissed about something.

“What’s your problem?”

“Nothing, man. It’s another one of those up there. This quack has a thing for he-shes, I suppose. I don’t even know why we’re here investigating it. The world needs less wierdos and more normal people like us, right Morain?”

Vance shook his head and frowned at that statement. “Shut the hell up, Sampson. Go take a fucking walk.”

“Aw man, don’t tell me you’re…”

“Go way, Sampson!” he snapped and kept walking towards the victim’s apartment. Though he dismissed the cop’s smart ass comment, he had to wonder. Was he a weirdo like Orrin, Frankie, and Waylon who all claimed to like men, women, and everything in between?

Though he found Kajika Fortier to be hot as hell, Vance wasn’t sure he could handle not being normal. Dammit, he was a Texan, a Republican, son of an oil rig worker. He enjoyed nights at country bars, drinking beer with his buddies, and listening to Tim McGraw. Men like that couldn’t be…


And really, he didn’t consider himself that because he was mostly into Kajika Fortier who was totally off limits. Lately, he’d been developing some feelings for his partner that were beyond the usual friendship, and in all actuality that shit scared the bejesus out of him.

Orrin Daugherty was Vance’s partner, not his lover—nor would he ever be more than that. Besides, even if Vance did, he knew Orrin wanted nothing to do with on-the-job romances.

When he made it to the doorway, he peeked his head inside. “Hey.”

Waylon looked around, smiling like a Cheshire cat. “Hey man, c’mon in and join the party! Your buddies are in the bedroom snooping around for shit. I doubt they’ll find anything ‘cause this quack is like a freaking ghost.”

Vance stepped in, keeping the cloth over his nose and mouth. “How long had she been dead?”

“Most likely about two days,” Moto replied. “I’d say between ten and twelve p.m., apparently this son of a bitch likes to work late nights.”

Vance nodded and headed into the bedroom where he found Frankie, Orrin, Kenina, Wendell, and Turley looking around the room.

“Hey,” Turley called out. “This motherfucker is really something else. He leaves nothing behind, and he has a thing for red rope.”

“And knots. Don’t forget that,” Wendell added.

“I swear we’re all hitting a dead end with this case. No one’s seen or heard anything. No clues, no leads…” Orrin chimed in.

“And the bodies keep piling up,” Frankie finished the sentence.

“So much for my theory on Darla having anything to do with this.” Kenina sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “And he has a thing for transsexuals, too. Why is he only targeting them?”

“Did we already rule out hate crime?” Turley answered.

“Naw, but the victims are all connected. Remember, they’re all exotic dancers, transsexuals. Maybe this crazy thinks he’s doing the city a favor by killing these women. Perhaps, he’s overly religious—” Frankie added.

“Not really ‘cause he’s having sex with all the victims,” Orrin interjected.

“Sick fuck!” Vance shook his head, glancing at the rotting corpse with bulged eyes, swollen lips, and the signature red rope around its neck. “No one cared about her, huh? I mean, I seem to recall a lot of people were concerned about Lana not showing up for work.”

“Well, according to that weasel Dan Carter, this was the one that was jealous of Lana and Kajika. You remember that, don’cha Vance? Or did Brayden make you forget all about what that ass talked about in our meeting.”

Vance bristled, “I swear, Kenina…”

“Shit, Detective Porter, now is not the fucking time,” Orrin snapped. “Leave him the hell alone. We got a dead person here. Have some fucking respect!”

Vance looked up at Orrin and nodded a silent thank you.

“Whatever, Orrin.” Kenina flipped him the bird and stalked out.

Orrin didn’t respond back. “Let’s get the hell up outta here so Moto and Waylon can do their work. We ain’t finding shit in here.”

“And they probably won’t either, but I know they gotta do their thang. So, I guess all of y’all are on night shift with me then. Good cause, it’ll be nice to have some company.” Frankie chuckled and walked out the room.

Turley and Wendell followed, talking between themselves.

“Thanks, man.” Vance bowed his head and blinked once to distract himself from staring too hard

Orrin waved his hand. “Yeah, yeah, let’s just get back to the station to throw some more ideas around. And I’m telling you now, if the two of you continue to bicker and fight, I will be asking Chief to take me off this fucking case!”

* * * *

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