Sunday, May 31, 2015

Out Now ~ The Wild After Dark Anthology

Taken In by Wendi Zwaduk 
M/F/M, Menage, Anal Sex
 Paranormal, Contemporary
Totally Bound
Novella

Find what you need at the Store Front. Blood, sex…we have it all just for you.
The supernaturals have taken over the earth, leaving the humans to serve them. The Store Front is one place for the supernaturals to find partners for feeding and sexual needs. Vic, a wolf shifter, and Gale, a vampire, have a special human female they love to visit. They know the bond between them goes far beyond the bedroom, but convincing Kitty the triad should happen might not be so easy.
Kitty longs to leave the Store Front and the total darkness of the earth. The one bright spot in her day is a visit from Gale and Vic. She loves the two supernatural men, even if she can’t voice the words. Do they return her affections on a deeper level or is she just a pawn to them? She’s not sure, but she’s willing to risk her heart and get wild after dark in order to find out.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of anal sex.
Available at Totally Bound: https://www.totallybound.com/wild-after-dark
EXCERPT:
©Wendi Zwaduk, 2015, All Rights Reserved
“Now there’s our girl.”
Kitty’s attention pricked. She knew that voice. Vic. She glanced up at the doorway. Vic and Gale stood watching her.
“Why do you look so sad, hon?” Vic crossed the room first and offered his hand. “The bastard tried something, didn’t he?”
She drank in Vic’s presence. The tight T-shirt clung to his muscled frame. Although he was in his human form, the power of the wolf showed through. His salt-and-pepper hair glimmered in the light. His blue eyes sparkled as he knelt beside her. She loved how he contrasted Gale’s tall frame.
“I’m okay.” She brushed her hair away from her face and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “He was pushy, but I handled it.” She turned over his wrist. “Ah, you’re here for sex and feeding.”
“Are you pleased?” Gale uncrossed his ankles and left the doorway. He didn’t just walk over to her. He stalked across the room. His gray eyes glowed and a lock of his sandy brown hair slipped over his forehead. His clothes hung on his lanky frame. He embodied the strength and sexuality of a vampire, but without the jackass attitude.
“I am.” She slid her hand into his. “I’ve been waiting on you both. It’s not as fun here without you.”
“Oh?” Vic closed the door and engaged the lock. “I’m honored.”
“You should be,” she replied. She shouldn’t have been snappy with them, but after the nasty vampire, her nerves were shot.
“He fed from you.” Gale caressed her arm. “Left big ass puncture wounds, too. Didn’t he bother to close them?”
“II didn’t look.” She glanced at her wrist. Bright red blood dripped down her arm. Well, shit.
Gale scooped her into his arms. “The bastard.” He carried her to the bed, then plunked her onto his lap. In one slick move, he licked the wounds shut and stopped the bleeding. “He had no right to do this to you.”
“It’s my job,” she managed. Her vision blurred a bit. How much blood had the vampire taken?
“Sleep, little one.” Gale stretched her out on the bed, then cuddled beside her.
Vic slipped between her and the wall. “Recharge. We’re not going anywhere.”
“No?” Her eyelids grew heavy and she fought to stay awake. “Don’t let me die.”
“We won’t,” Gale murmured. He tore into his wrist, allowing a rivulet of blood to dribble onto her lips. “Take some of mine and sleep.”




Friday, May 29, 2015

Out Now ~ Superhero by Megan Slayer

Superhero by Megan Slayer 
Hiding in Plain Sight Series, book 1
Novella
Contemporary, Sci-Fi/Fantasy
M/M, Anal Sex
MLR Press

He can levitate objects and predict the future, but no one knows his powers...until he finds a man worth fighting for.

Chase Bender moves objects with his mind and can read the immediate future. If anyone found out the man behind the mask had a lot in common with the regular man character, they wouldn't believe him. What's a man with super hero abilities supposed to do to get a date?

Dylan Foreman isn't interested in jumping into the dating pool, but can't deny the attraction when he meets Chase. Can the burning lust between a simple book keeper and a man in spandex, and sporting a cape really last?


Excerpt, ©Megan Slayer, 2015, All Rights Reserved
Dylan.
He shouldn’t say anything. Should keep on walking.
“Hi there. Do you come here often?” Hell. Of all the things he could’ve said, Chase picked one of the worst pick-up lines…ever.
Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “Do Iwe’ve met, haven’t we?”
“I’m sorry. I’m horrible at manners sometimes.” Chase offered his hand. “I’m Chase. We met at the Riley party.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I’m Mind Bender.”
“Oh!” Dylan’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t recognized you…but I bet that was the point.” His cheeks burned bright red and the color spread down his neck. “Can I say that was a good show, or will I get you into trouble?”
“Won’t get me into trouble. I appreciate the kind words.” Chase nodded to the cart. “I needed to get a few things. Care to walk with me, or are you nearly done?”
“I’m trying to get my shopping done while Nathan’s at swim camp.” Dylan gripped the cart. “The kid is a fish.”
“He’s your only child?” Chase pulled up beside Dylan and walked the rest of the way down the frozen food aisle.
“Just one. My partner and I couldn’t decide on another one.” Dylan’s blush deepened. “It’s a long story.”
“But I bet it’s a good one.” Chase missed being able to converse with other adults. The people at the store were okay, but they weren’t Dylan. The spark from the party hadn’t been in his imagination. He and Dylan seemed to be able to talk quite well.
“The story has its good parts, but there are bad parts, too.” Dylan stopped. “How much more do you have to buy?”
“Truth be told, I’m done.” Chase grinned. “I didn’t need much.”
“If you’re done, do you want to grab a cup of coffee? The little shop allows carts. I’ve only got a few more things to get.” Dylan flexed his fingers on the cart handle. The indentation of a wedding ring was evident, but not deep. Divorced? Split up? Chase wanted to know and yet, he didn’t want to ask.
“I’d like that,” Chase said. “I’ll pay for my things while you finish, then meet you at the coffee shop in, what, ten minutes?”
“Sounds good.”
Paying for his items didn’t take the entire ten minutes. For once, the lines at the store moved quickly. Chase tucked his change into his wallet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten through the line in less than fifteen minutes. He pushed the cart to the coffee shop. Most of the tables were empty and one of the booths was free. He pushed the cart behind the booth and plopped onto the wooden seat.

His skin prickled. Being around Dylan heightened his senses. What was it about the dad that kept him on the edge? He eased his phone from his pocket and switched the ringer to silent. If anyone needed him that bad, they could wait. As he sat there, the salt shaker began to levitate. Oh fuck. He grabbed the glass container and held it to the table top. No, no, no. His powers weren't allowed to go haywire. They weren't. 

Thursday, May 28, 2015

Out Now ~ Trust and Consent by Megan Slayer

Trust and Consent 

Trust Book 1
By Megan Slayer
Available from Liquid Silver Books
M/M, Anal Sex, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Shibari, BDSM, Rope Play
30,000 words, novella

An AllRomance Ebooks Bestseller!

A photographer and a musician find love in a blissful, tangled way…

Raylan Greene never expected the guy next to him in American History class to be so hot. Then again, he wasn’t looking for a relationship either. But this photographer knows a good subject when he sees one. The blond-haired guy with the sad eyes captivates him. The trouble is Raylan’s into rope bondage and he needs that special someone to be his partner. A tall order, indeed.
Chase Tate can’t take his eyes off Raylan. When they’re together, even if only in class, the words and tunes to songs fill his brain. He’s found his muse—if only he can grab Raylan’s attention. He’s scared his past and the secrets he’s kept buried will drive Raylan away.
Will Raylan be able to accept Chase despite the issues in his past? Will Chase run once he finds out about Raylan’s fetish? Or will these two scorch the sheets and find a love to last a lifetime?

Available at:


EXCERPT:
©Megan Slayer, 2015, All Rights Reserved
Another semester, another class and no hotties in the bunch. Raylan Greene sat back in his chair and opened his notebook. He never should’ve waited until the summer semester of his junior year at college to take the American History class, but his schedule always ended up so full. He’d finally found the time—in the hottest months of the year.
The pale blue paint flaked at the corners of the room and the desks had seen better days. Most of the table tops were decorated with names carved into the wooden surface. Everyone from Albert to Zach had left a mark.
Footsteps thumped in the hallway and the building buzzed with conversation. Some of the girls sat together and chattered. Two guys near the door argued about a comic book movie Raylan wanted to see, but hadn’t been to the theater to view. One of the guys sported a football jersey and regaled his friends with stories from the latest practice session.
Raylan glanced around the classroom at the various students. He recognized a couple of the guys from other classes, but none of the men in the room appealed to him. He groaned. He had to be one of the older students in the room and all because he hadn’t worked the class in during his freshman year.
He hadn’t been a freshman in a long time, but he felt like he’d been in the photography thread forever. The students in the photography division all knew each other. Once they’d paired off in romantic relationships, those who hadn’t found a partner didn’t really date the others. He’d gone out with a few guys, but none for a great length of time.
He’d just about given up hope when a young man strolled into the room. The guy quickened his pace and collapsed in the desk beside Raylan.
“That was close.” He plunked his books on the desk top. “I had the wrong room assignment written down.”
“That can happen.” Raylan smiled at his classmate. “I’m Raylan.”
“Chase.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m not usually late.”
“You’re fine. We’ve got another five minutes. Professor Alemonde walks at his own pace.” Raylan studied Chase. He’d seen his share of good looking guys before, but something about Chase caught his attention. Maybe it was the shaggy hair hanging to his collar or the slightly bewildered look in his brown eyes, but Raylan wanted to photograph him. He preferred strong men, but not overly muscled. Chase seemed to fit the bill. Was he a hairy guy? A top? A bottom?
“I feel so silly.” Chase opened his notebook and shook his head. “The wrong room number. I’ve been on this campus almost three years now. You’d think I’d check this stuff.” He moved his guitar case to beneath his seat. A myriad of stickers decorated the worn faux leather surface of the case. “If this gets in the way, tell me. I can’t control the thing sometimes.”


Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Super Book Blast ~ The Likelihood of Lucy by Jenny Holiday


It's a book blast and the book featured is The Likelihood of Lucy by Jenny Holiday. You'll want to comment. If you do, you're entered to win $25 Amazon gift card. Sounds cool, doesn't it?

THE LIKELIHOOD OF LUCY
by Jenny Holiday

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  
London, 1815 

Trevor Bailey is on the cusp of opening the greatest hotel in London. His days as a gutter snipe are behind him, as he enjoys a life of wealth, society, and clandestine assignments as a spy in the service of His Majesty. Until one tumultuous night churns up the past he'd long left behind...

Turned out by her employer for her radical beliefs, Lucy Greenleaf reaches out to the man who was once her most beloved friend. She never expected that the once-mischievous Trevor would be so handsome and gentleman-like and neither can deny the instant attraction.

But Lucy's reformer ways pose a threat to the hotel's future and his duties as a spy. Now Trevor must choose between his new life and the woman he's always loved…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now an excerpt:


“How do you know if you want to marry someone?” Lucy watched Catharine’s eyes for signs of shock. Still, better not to be too specific. “Hypothetically speaking, I mean.”

Catharine tilted her head and examined Lucy quizzically, making no mention of the abrupt nature of the query—the tea had only just been poured and the footman had hardly got the door closed behind him before Lucy unleashed the ambush. “How do you know if you want to marry someone? A good question. If you have options—and unlike most women, you do—it’s quite easy.”

That’s what she’d been afraid of.

“You should marry someone who makes you feel a very great deal of discomfort,” Catharine declared. “At least initially.”

Lucy swallowed the very unladylike string of curses accreting in her throat. “This discomfort you speak of. What does it signify? It would seem to stand in contradiction to what you said in our earlier conversations. You said that a woman should look for a man who concerns himself with his wife’s pleasure. Are not pleasure and discomfort opposing states of being?”

“No, they are not.” Catharine must have heard Lucy’s silent plea for an explanation, because she grinned. “I know it may seem that way. But in my experience, the degree of discomfort—misery, even—a man makes a woman feel is directly proportional to the amount of pleasure he can bring her.”

“But why must everything be so extreme?” Lucy cried. Then, embarrassed that her question had very nearly become a wail, she took a deep breath and tried again. “Is there no place in this world for more moderate sentiments? Contentment, say? Equanimity and intellectual compatibility? I’m talking about a feeling of being adequately matched. What is so wrong with that?”

“Nothing, of course. Many successful, pleasant marriages are built on just such a foundation. And I would never counsel a woman against accepting a man who brought those qualities to her life.” Lucy was about to protest that Catharine contradicted herself, when the older woman let
her teacup fall to its saucer with a clatter and looked intently at Lucy. “If she had no other options.”

Lucy slumped against the back of the settee, and when, after a few seconds, she didn’t speak, Catharine moved from her chair to sit beside her. “And let me make myself perfectly clear. We’ve been talking about pleasure, and given my reputation—and what you’ve seen of me in our colorful conversations with Emily—you probably assume that we’re speaking of the sort of pleasure found in the marital bed.” Lucy started to protest. She’d heard enough already—her
worst suspicions had been confirmed. But Catharine waved away her objection. “We are, of course. And heaven knows Emily likes to tease me about my, ah, fondness for that kind
of pleasure. But that’s not really what I’m talking about.”

“What are you talking about, then?” Lucy whispered, fearing the pronouncement was about to get worse.

“Love. I’m talking about love. I shy away from the word, generally.” She shrugged. “I’m like a man that way. But what I’m trying to say is that if you have any choice in the matter, you should marry someone you’re in love with.

**

“Stop cleaning,” Trevor said.

Lucy turned. “And a good morning to you, too.” Another precept she’d always tried to instill in her pupils—a false show of confidence could sometimes lead to the real thing. Not that she was preaching affectation. Never that. Mrs. Wollstonecraft—her guiding light in all things—would not
approve.

He did not stop scowling. “You are a guest here. Guests don’t clean.”

“Well somebody has to. Beds don’t make themselves.”

“Why make them at all?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t make mine. Why bother? You’re just going to get into it again later.”

She would have laughed, but he seemed perfectly in earnest. And she had to admit there was some logic to his position. Still, she felt compelled to defend herself. “A servant worth his or her salt would not be able to look at an unmade bed and not remedy it. You have no servants at all?”

“I’ll have an army of them when the hotel opens—a hiring spree is my next major task, in fact, and not one I’m looking forward to. For now, I have a woman who comes in for half days and cooks. But no one enters my private apartments. Ever.”

“I did.”

“Yes.” He moved to the bed and threw the counterpane back, undoing her work. “And you’re not a servant.”

She had to cover her shock at his deliberate mussing of the bed. “That’s debatable. The fate of the governess is to be forever lodged in the limbo between the household and its staff. She is not quite a servant, not quite a member of the family. Mary Wollstonecraft once wrote, ‘A teacher at a school is only a kind of upper servant, who has more work than the menial ones. A governess to young ladies is equally disagreeable.’” Clamping her mouth shut, she checked herself. There
was no need to start up with Mary. That was exactly what had landed her in this mess to begin with. It’s just that Mary’s words were always so close to Lucy’s heart. It was difficult to censor herself sometimes. But that’s exactly what she had to learn to do if she was lucky enough to secure another position.

“Be that as it may, at the Jade, you are a guest.” He set a package on the unmade bed. “Put this on, and then we’re going out. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

He was gone before she could answer.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About the Author:

Jenny Holiday started writing in fourth grade, when her awesome hippie teacher, between sessions of Pete Seeger singing and anti-nuclear power plant letter writing, gave the kids notebooks and told them to write stories. Most of Jenny's featured poltergeist, alien invasions, or serial killers who managed to murder everyone except her and her mom. She showed early promise as a romance writer, though, because nearly every story had a happy ending: fictional Jenny woke up to find that the story had been a dream, and that her best friend, father, and sister had not, in fact, been axe-murdered. From then on, she was always writing, often in her diary, where she liked to decorate her declarations of existential angst with nail polish teardrops. Eventually she channelled her penchant for scribbling into a more useful format. After picking up a PhD in urban geography, she became a professional writer, and has spent many years promoting research at a major university, which allows her to become an armchair astronomer/historian/particle physicist, depending on the day. Eventually, she decided to try her hand again at happy endings--minus the bloodbaths. You can follow her twitter accounts @jennyholi and @TropeHeroine or visit her on the web at jennyholiday.com.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jennyholidaybooks
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/jennyholiday   

Get your copy here: 

http://www.amazon.com/Likelihood-Entangled-Historical-Regency-Reformers-ebook/dp/B00WRGWHT2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1431466263&sr=8-1&keywords=the+likelihood+of+lucy


http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-likelihood-of-lucy-jenny-holiday/1121815835?ean=9781633752825


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Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Super Book Blast ~ Summer Fire!

It's the summer and it's hot. Very hot. Check out these fantastic stories and comment on the post. Why? One randomly drawn commenter will receive a $25 Amazon/BN Gift Card. Sweet!
Want more chances to win? Here's the link for the tour: http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2015/05/book-blast-summer-fire-love-when-its.html

SUMMER FIRE
by Gennita Low, Stacey Mosteller,  R.J. Lewis,  L. Wilder,  Victoria Danann,  Kym Grosso,  Cat Miller,  Mimi Barbour,  Clarissa Wild,  Teresa Gabelman,  Linda Barlow,  Helen Scott Taylor,  Victoria James,  Mona Risk,  Patrice Wilton,  Joan Reeves,  Danielle Jamie,  Terri Marie,  Lorhainne Eckhart ,  Brandy L. Rivers,  Nicole Blanchard

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The book is on sale for $0.99! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

21 ALL NEW Contemporary Romance stories by NY Times, USA Today, and National Bestselling authors.

Love when it’s hot? So do we. Especially when we’re writing about gritty alphas, angsty bad boys, sizzling attraction, and unrequited passion. Turn the fan to oscillate and join us for this steamy, groundbreaking bundle of summer tales that are hot hot hot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now for an excerpt:
From "Summer Rhythm" by Brandy L. Rivers

Intending to head for the bar, Chloe got lost in a daydream when she stepped through the door. A familiar song caught her attention. Glancing up, her gaze locked on her biggest regret.

Molten brown eyes, shaggy brown hair, perfectly curved lips twisted in a sinful smirk. That sexy mouth, and talented fingers—and damn, the man could play an instrument. Nearly any.

Smoldering eyes locked on hers for a brief second, igniting hope. Then his brow furrowed as he looked away. Closing his lids, Doug Walsh threw himself into the music like he wanted to banish her from his mind. She couldn’t blame him.

Her desire was a cruel twist of fate. He was even hotter than the last time she saw him, eight years ago. A twinge of guilt thrummed through her and she turned, with the intention of walking out the door.

Someone looped their arm through hers and dragged her toward the bar. 

“Thought I mentioned your favorite mistake was playing tonight,” Jackie sing-songed. They’d been best friends since kindergarten. As much as Chloe loved her, Jackie was going to torture her.

She didn’t want to think about the way she’d let Doug in, only to shut him out the next morning. Not once, but twice.

Hopeless, she looked over. “If you had, I wouldn’t have come.”

With a dejected sigh, she climbed onto a stool and dropped her chin into her hand. Nodding at the bartender, she ordered, “Long Island, please?”

Bartender dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Jackie nudged her. “Why not? Clearly you’re still hung up on him. I saw your reaction.”

“He probably hates me.”

“Nah. He never let it slow him down.”

Her mouth fell open. “Are you saying Doug turned into a man-whore?”

Jackie’s brow scrunched. “Not exactly. Though he doesn’t have a problem picking up women.”

“That’s karma for you.” Chloe turned to find her drink. Tracing the disposable coaster, she took a sip from the tall glass before asking, “Why did you invite me here?”

“Figured it would be like old times. Only without having to sneak into bars.”

Chloe giggled. “What the hell. He’s already seen me and the worst he can do is ignore my sorry ass.”

A smirk lifted one corner of Jackie’s mouth as she looked to the stage. “Doubt he’ll ignore you long. He can’t seem to keep his eyes off you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Get Your Copy Here:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Dv2jy3 
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Summer-Fire-Love-When-Its-ebook/dp/B00U1DZH7C/


Apple: http://bit.ly/1CVOgih  
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/summer-fire/id968862231?mt=11

B&N: http://bit.ly/18d9QY0
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/summer-fire-gennita-low/1121243540?ean=2940151700993&itm=1&usri=2940151700993

KOBO: http://bit.ly/19QsJAD  
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/summer-fire

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1wsmBsL


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Out Now ~ Home to Cedarwood

Home to Cedarwood 
Single Dads Society, Book 1
By Megan Slayer
M/M, Anal Sex, Masturbation
From Loose Id
27,000 words, Novella

An AllRomance Ebooks Bestseller!!
An Amazon Bestseller!!

Colin Baker owns a book store and he’s back in Cedarwood with his son. He’s looking for a new start after a bad breakup, but he never expected that start to include his old crush, Officer Jordan Hargrove. Jordan hasn’t come out, but if he can score with Colin, then he’s all in. He’s dreamed of hot nights with the quiet man.

After a speeding ticket and some hurt feelings, sparks fly between the bookstore owner and the police officer, but Cedarwood is a small town with small town values, and a gay couple isn’t what the town expects. Colin’s created a support group for single gay fathers and he feels he’s making some difference in Cedarwood. Some folks in Cedarwood are fine with these two men reconnecting, but some aren’t.

Will the naysayers be enough to drive Colin and Jordan apart, or will they make their way together in this small town?

Available from these retailers:

And now for an excerpt:
Copyright © Megan Slayer, 2015, all rights reserved

“Hello. Welcome to the Single-Fathers group. My name is Colin Baker. I own the Books Comics Vintage and Memorabilia Bookstore on Main Street. I’m thirty years old, gay, and I have a son. I’ve been single for the last year, and I’m not sure I’m ready to start dating, but I’m positive I’m tired of being alone.” Colin rubbed his hands together and stood behind the podium. He hated being the center of attention. Being terminally shy, he preferred to play the role of the wallflower. Then he and his partner adopted their son. Everything changed when they welcomed Gage into their lives. He gripped the top of the podium. 

“I’m glad you’re all here.” Colin folded his hands to hide the shaking. “I created this group for the single gay parents in the Cedarwood area—especially the guys. As you know, Cedarwood isn’t exactly welcoming to the LGBT community. There aren’t many of us, but I figured we all need a support system. Feel free to add your name to the outreach list and invite anyone you think might like to attend. In this group, we share our stories and support each other. Now I’ll open the floor.”
 

He stepped away from the mic and made his way down the steps of the stage. Meeting in the basement of the former Reserved Church of the Open-Minded worked better than he’d expected. People knew the building, but no one seemed to care if anyone gathered there—unless the people were gay. The church for anyone who wanted to worship only lasted long enough for a sign to be erected. Bad for the church members but good for Colin and his group, which now only numbered five. He grabbed one of the chairs and listened to the others in the group share their stories.
 

He’d been asked once if the group was intended to hook up the single fathers. Colin smiled at the time, but inwardly seethed. God. Yes, they were single, but not everyone wanted to hook up. Okay, that wasn’t true. He wasn’t interested in a hookup. After Nicolas, he dreaded jumping back into the dating pool. But the loneliness wouldn’t go away.
 

Two and a half hours later, the meeting broke up. He helped put the chairs away, turn off lights, and locked the building. The guys in the group were a good bunch. Everyone seemed interested in the problems of the others. Some of the men made headway in their love lives. Some didn’t. Some were happy to be in Colin’s not-yet-ready-for-dating camp.
 

Despite the town’s location outside Cleveland, the population only numbered around six thousand. Most people worked in the bigger city and spent their weekends in Cedarwood. People moved to Cedarwood for the schools and the safe small-town feel. The children tended to live idyllic lives. The kids belonging to gay parents were the subject of bullying more than some of the other children. He knew because he’d heard stories from his son.
 

Colin drove home to the duplex he shared with his brother, Farin. The light shone in the living room of his half of the building. Farin must’ve brought Gage home for the night. Colin checked his watch. Nine p.m. Shit. He’d stayed out fifteen minutes past his son’s bedtime. He preferred to be home before Gage went to sleep in order to kiss him good night. He strode into the house and dropped his coat and keys on the chair by the door.
 

“Heya.” Farin stood. He rolled his shoulders and groaned. “I’ve been on that couch for the better part of forty-five minutes. Gage and I read every book he’s got on every superhero known to mankind.”
 

“He likes his superheroes.” Colin rubbed his temples. “Police too. I don’t know why. I tried to get him interested in baseball, but that hasn’t worked.”
 

“It’s a phase. Remember how I used to get silly over fire trucks?” Farin patted his brother’s shoulder. “I was five, but I loved those trucks. But we were talking about Gage. He hit the hay ten minutes ago. He didn’t want to go to bed. When I asked him why, he said there’s a kid at school giving him hell. He didn’t say hell, but you get the idea.”
 

Colin pointed to the chair. “Sit. He hasn’t said a word of this to me. What’s going on?”
 

“Okay.” Farin perched on the edge of the armchair. “Some kid in his class—he wouldn’t say who—has been talking crap to him. Saying his dad is gay, so he must be gay. Kids are rough at that age.”
 

“He’s seven.” A dull ache grew behind his eyes. The next thing he knew, the kid would be teasing Gage because he was adopted too. His younger brother definitely inherited the listening gene. Where Colin moved first and thought second, Farin knew how to get people to talk. Apparently he’d worked his magic on Gage.
 

Farin rested his elbows on his knees. “Don’t let it bother you. Kids say stupid shit all the time. I talked to Gage, but he wanted me to keep quiet. He just wants to know that Dad has his back, but he’s scared to talk to you because he’s worried you’ll get upset. Let him know you’ll go in and talk to the principal too, if that’s what needs to be done.”
 

“You bet your ass I’ll talk to the principal.” Colin bit back his anger. He hated the way the residents of Cedarwood refused to accept the differences in society. So some people were gay. Who cared?
 

“Calm down before you do or you’ll blow a gasket and get yourself into trouble.” Farin left the chair and headed to the front door. “Give Gage a kiss, tell him it’s cool and you and Uncle Farin love him. If you need help, I’m right over there.” He saluted Colin, then headed out the door.
 

Colin jumped up from his seat and ascended the stairs two at a time. When he reached Gage’s bedroom, his son was already asleep. The kid did have a talent for crashing once his head hit the pillow. He kissed Gage on the forehead and whispered, “Love you, big boy.”
 

Colin crept out of the room and left the door open a bit. He went back downstairs long enough to lock up and turn off the lights. He paused at the picture window. The lights of Cedarwood twinkled against the dark sky. In the silence of the night, the small town was almost pretty. He should’ve been happy to live in the community. The schools were all located in one central campus and the sports programs were highly ranked. The graduating classes featured only around a hundred and twenty-five kids each. A person could still shop in town and get everything needed in one trip down the main drag. The cost of living wasn’t horrible, either. But the cost of living in Cedarwood as a gay man rose by the minute. He managed to fuck himself over doubly by co-owning the lone bookstore in town. The people wanted the books, comics, and collectibles he sold, but that didn’t stop them from making derogatory comments.
 

He raked his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t part of the star baseball team and he wasn’t the naive kid from high school anymore. He had a kid, a business, and a life. He’d worry about Gage’s problems at school in the morning. Maybe by then he’d have a fresh perspective or better advice to give his son. Maybe.
 

* * * *
 

The next morning, Colin stood at the island in the middle of the kitchen and drummed his fingers on the faux marble surface. Two months into school and his kid was late…again.
 

“Come on, Gage. You’re late.” He glanced up the back set of stairs one more time The light glowed on the wall from the second-story bathroom. “What are you doing up there?”
 

Gage rounded the corner and bounded down the stairs. “Sorry, Dad.” He kept his head down. “My belly hurts.”
 

“Really?” Colin stopped Gage on the steps. “I heard about the kid at school. Besides, you’re only a week away from the Halloween parties. You love those parties.”
 

“Harvest parties. We can’t have Halloween ones. It’s against the law.”
 

“It’s not against the law.” Probably against something else, but Colin didn’t want to discuss that with Gage. “So talk. What’s with the kid at school?”
 

“Uncle Farin blabbed.” Gage ducked under Colin’s arm. “He wasn’t supposed to talk to you. He promised.”
 

“You do realize your uncle and I talk about everything?” Colin followed his son into the kitchen. “So spill your guts, kid.”
 

Gage stared at Colin. He might have been adopted, but the way the kid glowered at him, he could’ve sworn Gage shared the same gene pool. With the same blond hair, blue eyes, and thick lashes, Gage reminded Colin of a miniversion of himself.
 

Colin squatted in front of his son to put them at eye level. “What did the kid say?”
 

“That my dad is a fag.” Gage stuck out his bottom lip. “Why would he do that? You’re a dad.”
 

Colin sighed. “Okay.” He needed to explain the situation in order for Gage to understand. “Some people say mean things. No matter how hard you try to get away from them, they’ll always be there.” God, did he know that lesson well. He’d tried to shake the memories of the guy from high school who insisted on making his life hell.
 

“What do I do?” Gage rested his hands on his hips. “Uncle Farin said to ignore him.”
 

“That’s a good idea. Don’t let him know you’re upset. It’s hard because you’re going to be mad, but once he realizes you’re not going to react, the kid should stop,” Colin said.
 Unless you have a secret crush on the guy being the dick. He shook his head. He wasn’t about to tell his son that little tidbit of information. 

“Fine.” Gage picked up his tennis shoes. “But I’m already late. Why don’t you just let me skip today?” He grinned and batted his lashes. “A mental health day, like you say you want to have?”
 

Kids were such sponges. He’d have to remember to think before he spoke in the future. “No mental health days. Grab your book bag. You have art today, don’t you? You love art.”
 

Gage yanked his bag from the hook. “I do.” He hurried past Colin and headed out to the garage.
 

Colin picked up his tablet, wallet, and keys. He’d get Gage to school late, but at least he’d conned the kid into going. He locked the back door, then climbed into the car beside his son.
 

Once the garage door opened, he backed out of the garage and closed the door. Colin eased the rest of the way down the driveway, then turned onto the street. He glanced at his son’s reflection in the rearview mirror.
 

“I’m going to take you in to school and write the excuse then, okay?” Colin asked. He barreled down the back road to the school complex. The speed limit sign read twenty-five. He snorted. Did anyone actually drive that slow anymore? He checked his speed. Thirty-nine. Fuck. He tapped the brake. He needed to get his head in the game and pay attention. The speed limit was there for a reason, not a suggestion. God. He was a dad and getting his kid to school safely should’ve been utmost in his mind.
 

Colin let off the gas and continued down the road, but something in the mirror caught his attention. Red and blue lights. What the hell? Realization washed over him as he recognized the reason for the lights. A cop. Fucking balls. He’d been caught speeding. He pulled over to the side of the road and parked.
 

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Gage asked from the backseat.
 

“Daddy went too fast on this road and the cop is calling me out. I was wrong. I was speeding.” He sighed and leaned back in his seat. Shit. Of all the times to screw up, he had to do it in front of his kid.
 

“Sorry, Dad.” Gage curled up in his booster seat.
 

“Me too, kid. Now you’re superlate.” Colin pressed the button to roll down the window, then reached across the dash to the glove box and retrieved his registration.
 

“Excuse me, sir.” A shadow darkened the window. “License and registration, please?”
 

Colin slid the card from his wallet. “Here you go.” He refrained from looking at the cop. Not because he disliked cops, but because the shame of his actions washed over him in epic proportions. He’d been speeding, in a school zone more than likely and with his kid in the car.
 

“Do you know how fast you were going, sir?” the officer asked.
 

“Probably twenty miles over the limit.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.
 

“Thirty-nine in a twenty. This is a marked school zone. The lights were flashing.”
 

“I’m sorry, Officer.” Colin opened his eyes. The stress was no excuse to be a jerk. “I was trying to get my son to school and wasn’t paying attention. I accept responsibility for my actions.”
 And I’ve learned my lesson. 

“I see.” The cop paused. “Colin Baker? I knew a guy named Colin Baker when I was in school. We played ball together. Huh. Well, I’m going to give you a ticket. Give me a moment.”
 

Colin slid his gaze to the officer as the man retreated to the cruiser behind Colin’s car. He didn’t need to read the man’s badge to know his name. He’d recognize that body anywhere—Jordan Hargrove. Why in the name of God did the guy who’d featured prominently in all Colin’s high-school fantasies have to be the guy who was currently writing him up for breaking the speed limit?
 

The dull ache from the night before developed behind Colin’s eyes. So much for being a good role model for his son. Horrible fucking luck.