28 August 2011
Six Sentence Sunday 8/28/11
This week's six is more from my current WIP One of the Boys. Last week, Casey was having fun playing a drinking game with a bunch of his new frat brothers. This week, the game is over and he's enjoying the after effects.
He closed his eyes and let himself be lost to the feeling of both of their hands. He stroked himself, slowly at first, but when Brad took his earlobe between his teeth, Casey sped up, relishing the tinge of pain. Brad’s lips found his neck, and the then his chin, and then his cheek before finally claiming his mouth. The kiss was hungry, fevered, as if Brad had been wanting it to come to this all night but just hadn’t said it.
Casey wasn’t usually like this. Making out with a guy he’d only just met definitely hadn’t been on his to-do list for today, but he couldn’t help himself, and at this point he wasn’t sure whether it was the booze or how incredibly hot Brad was that spurred him on.
For more authors who may or may not be following their to-do lists, be sure to check out the Six Sentence Sunday site here.
21 August 2011
Six Sentence Sunday 8/21/11
This week's six comes from my current WIP, a contemporary m/m called One of the Boys. In this snippet, one of my heroes finds out just how good drinking games can be when you're in college.
"As the game went on and more clothes came off, Casey found it harder and harder to focus on keeping his eyes away from the other men. And the alcohol wasn’t helping any. It was like they were all fucking photo-shopped, or something. Not a man in the room still wore a shirt and they all had these washboard abs and beefy pecs that Casey had never thought actually existed outside of porn. He drank in their bodies and, when the first pair of underwear dropped and a black guy named Sterling backed up against the wall with his log-like dick swinging proudly between his legs, Casey nearly lost his mind. For the first time he realized how informative the questions in this game were, and if half of these guys were anywhere near as freaky drunk as they were sober, he was going to love it here."
For more authors with characters who may or may not be drinking with a bunch of horny frat guys, check out the Six Sentence Sunday site here.
"As the game went on and more clothes came off, Casey found it harder and harder to focus on keeping his eyes away from the other men. And the alcohol wasn’t helping any. It was like they were all fucking photo-shopped, or something. Not a man in the room still wore a shirt and they all had these washboard abs and beefy pecs that Casey had never thought actually existed outside of porn. He drank in their bodies and, when the first pair of underwear dropped and a black guy named Sterling backed up against the wall with his log-like dick swinging proudly between his legs, Casey nearly lost his mind. For the first time he realized how informative the questions in this game were, and if half of these guys were anywhere near as freaky drunk as they were sober, he was going to love it here."
For more authors with characters who may or may not be drinking with a bunch of horny frat guys, check out the Six Sentence Sunday site here.
14 August 2011
Six Sentence Sunday 8/14/11
Today's six is more from my recently contracted I/R m/m novel Can't Make You Love Me. Sean and Dylan may just be moving into the Friends With Benefits category.
Sean’s voice deserted him and his breath caught in his throat. He’d turned over and caught sight of Dylan standing in the doorway; he was still wearing his shirt, but nothing else. Sean couldn’t stop his eyes from taking in the lower half of Dylan’s body once again, but Dylan didn’t shy away beneath his gaze. Sean hadn’t expected Dylan to come back, so to have him standing there was shock enough; but what surprised him the most was that, even from his position across the room, Sean could see that Dylan’s dick was totally hard. There was no mistaking that rigid look to it. He looked up to meet Dylan’s eyes and saw doubt there mixed with something else he couldn’t read.
Be sure to check out the other authors on the Six Sentence Sunday site here.
Sean’s voice deserted him and his breath caught in his throat. He’d turned over and caught sight of Dylan standing in the doorway; he was still wearing his shirt, but nothing else. Sean couldn’t stop his eyes from taking in the lower half of Dylan’s body once again, but Dylan didn’t shy away beneath his gaze. Sean hadn’t expected Dylan to come back, so to have him standing there was shock enough; but what surprised him the most was that, even from his position across the room, Sean could see that Dylan’s dick was totally hard. There was no mistaking that rigid look to it. He looked up to meet Dylan’s eyes and saw doubt there mixed with something else he couldn’t read.
Be sure to check out the other authors on the Six Sentence Sunday site here.
07 August 2011
Six Sentence Sunday 8/7/11
Today's six comes from my recently contracted I/R m/m novel Can't Make You Love Me. Sean's in love with his best friend. Too bad the friend is straight.
Sean let out a long, slow breath and threw himself back on the bed, wondering if he was ever going to get over what he was feeling for his best friend. He couldn’t go on like this. Simple looks would send his mind racing, off-hand touches that he was sure Dylan never even thought about sent him fleeing to the closest bathroom for a furious jerk off session, and what he’d seen only a moment ago had successfully reduced him to ruins. He knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until Dylan finally gave him the fucking he so desperately wanted. Which meant he’d never be fulfilled, because Dylan could never know about his sexuality. He’d never speak to him again.
For more emotional turmoil, check out the other author's blogs. You can find a list of them here.
Sean let out a long, slow breath and threw himself back on the bed, wondering if he was ever going to get over what he was feeling for his best friend. He couldn’t go on like this. Simple looks would send his mind racing, off-hand touches that he was sure Dylan never even thought about sent him fleeing to the closest bathroom for a furious jerk off session, and what he’d seen only a moment ago had successfully reduced him to ruins. He knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until Dylan finally gave him the fucking he so desperately wanted. Which meant he’d never be fulfilled, because Dylan could never know about his sexuality. He’d never speak to him again.
For more emotional turmoil, check out the other author's blogs. You can find a list of them here.
05 August 2011
Today's the Day
So today marks the end of a very long journey for me. I'm no longer on the road to becoming a published author. And that's all because my debut novella Sparks Fly is up on the Etopia Press New Releases page! I can see myself doing the happy dances all day. So, this is the time. Whoever's been following my blog tour, this is your chance to win the free copy. For anyone who may have missed my tweets yesterday, sentence number four is, "The wall it had entered shimmered and rippled as if it was water, then stilled." Sentence two is at Tristram La Roche's Site, sentence three is over at Amara's Place, and five is on Cat Grant's blog right now! And sentence one is about three posts behind this one.
Leave the order you think they go in along with your email address and preferred format in the comments. Good luck!
Leave the order you think they go in along with your email address and preferred format in the comments. Good luck!
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