Thursday, July 17, 2014

Cocktails and Cock Tales with Chris Quinton and a giveaway!


Today we have Chris Quinton at the cyber bar. Chris started creating stories not long after she mastered joined-up writing, somewhat to the bemusement of her parents and her English teachers. But she received plenty of encouragement. Her dad gave her an already old Everest typewriter when she was ten, and it was probably the best gift she'd ever received - until the inventions of the home-computer and the worldwide web.

Chris's reading and writing interests range from historical, mystery, and paranormal, to science-fiction and fantasy, mostly in the male/male genre. She also writes male/female novels in the name of Chris Power. She refuses to be pigeon-holed and intends to uphold the long and honourable tradition of the Eccentric Brit to the best of her ability. In her spare time [hah!] she embroiders, quilts and knits. Over the years she has been a stable lad [briefly] in a local racing stable and stud, a part-time and unpaid amateur archaeologist, a civilian clerk at her local police station and a 15th century re-enactor.

She lives in a small and ancient city in the south-west of the United Kingdom, sharing her usually chaotic home with an extended family, three dogs, a frilled dragon [lizard], and sundry goldfish.

Take it away Chris!

What we are Drinking
I've got two favourites - the good old-fashioned Gin and Tonic and the Moscow Mule

Moscow Mule
Squeeze fresh lime juice into a hi ball glass and drop in the squished shell. 
Add  ice cubes
Pour in the vodka shot and top up with ginger beer (or low calorie ginger ale if you're on a diet).

Deanna: First things first. Where are you, and what are you wearing?

Chris: I live in Salisbury, a small city on the edge of the UK's West Country. Archaeology has shown that people have lived in my area for over 6,000 years... What am I wearing? For perching elegantly on a bar stool, I'm wearing a long black embroidered skirt, a sheer black blouse over a silver camisole, cinched in with a silver and black waspie. In Real life - wearing a denim skirt and a white tee-shirt.

Deanna: LOL, brilliant! I'm still in my jammies! What’s your poison? Vodka? Gin? Beer?What yumminess did you bring for us?

Chris: (((Grin))) All of the above, but not at the same time, of course. I'm particularly fond of the ales some of the micro-breweries turn out, and the traditional ones like Theakstons Old Peculiar and Riggwelter from the Black Sheep Brewery. My daughter in law introduced me to the Moscow Mule - it's a lovely long refreshing drink for hot summer evenings. But it is called Moscow MULE for a reason (((winks))).

Deanna: (((pours them both a round))) Cheers! Now that we’re comfy, tell me about your new book? (((sips on her cocktail)))

Chris: (((raises glass in a toast))) Cheers *grin*. The new book is Greymalkin, the first in the Melusine's Cats series. It's a paranormal set in an invented valley on the North Devon coast, and brings Celtic legends into the contemporary world.

Deanna: Oooh, I am intrigued! Where did the idea for this story come from?

Chris: From a grey cat I saw sitting on top of a gravestone in an overgrown cemetery. I took a photo before he could pull the usual cat trick of moving the moment a camera appeared, and he ended up on the rather wonderful cover Meredith Russell did for me. I knew right away he had to be in a story, and it had to be a paranormal - he is no ordinary cat.

Deanna: I like the sound of that. So what was the hardest part of writing this story for you?

Chris: Halfway through the first draft I realized I'd missed out vital stuff involving the enemies my heroes would face. So I had to do some major rethinking, and the book ended up a lot longer than I'd originally planned (((grin))). This it thirsty work! How about another round, hmm?

Deanna: (((pours them another round))) Boy, these things are tasty!! Now, what’s the easiest thing about writing Greymalkin?

Chris: LOL! That isn't easily answered. Some days the words flow as easily as if I'm taking dictation, on others I could be trying to grind blood from stones. It's more a thing with me than with the story and characters. I am too easily distracted. (((takes a drink)))

Deanna: What is your dream story, your opus, if you will? The one you dream about writing but haven’t don’t it?

Chris: I would *love* to write an historical based on the life and companions of Richard III. He's fascinated me for many, many years, and the recent discovery of his burial place in Leicester has strengthened it. But I sincerely doubt it'll ever be written - I have a huge list of Works in Progress to plough through before I could begin to think of writing Richard's story.

Deanna: Well I would wanna read that! I love historicals! When did you first discover you were a writer? Were you like sitting on the toilet and just said, “Ya know, I think I’m gonna write a book.” Or was it more profound? J

Chris: (((snicker))) Dunno about profound. I was way too young for that. I can't remember for sure when I began to write stories. It was certainly before school essays when my English teacher gave us free rein on a given subject, though that gave me a real boost. I suppose it began when I wanted more from the authors of my favorite books, couldn't find new titles, so I wrote my own short stories about the characters. Cowboys and spaceships, those were my fascination - then I discovered the Greek and Roman myths when I was about eleven...

Deanna: What helps you when you are stumped on a scene in a manuscript? I usually have a cocktail … or three…(((holds up her empty which Chris promptly fills))) LOL But that’s just me.

Chris: I've found a glass or two of red wine can do wonders (((giggles))). Or a walk to a coffee bar in the city centre where I can work on my tablet. The walk plus two mugs of coffee usually do the trick.

Deanna: Sounds like a good plan of attack to me! Most of my stories have a theme song, do you do that for your characters?? If so what is it?

Chris: No theme song - I can't even listen to songs when I'm writing... (((sigh))). I have to have either silence, instrumental or sea-sounds in the background at home, nothing vocal or I'm singing along and listening to it rather than my characters. Oddly enough, the hubbub in the coffee bar doesn't bother me.

Deanna: Ha! Thats funny! I could never write in a coffee bar cuz I get distracted people watching. Another round? (((holds up the bottle)))

Chris: Of course! (((takes the refill and pounds it)))

Deanna: (((still making her drink)))Wait for me! (((makes a double then pounds it and pours another round))) Now we are even. LOL Chris, tell us about a scene that you have written then afterwards, when you read it, you shocked yourself? You know I want a dirty answer (((hint hint)))

Chris: (((giggles and has another drink))) What a surprise. Not. (((giggles again))) How about a typo? This one was classic, It was his fist time... Luckily I caught it before the story was submitted. (((Takes a sip to control giggles and the occasional hiccup))) Some of the scenes in Fool's Errand [first in my vampire trilogy with Manifold Press] between Andreas and Xavi startled me a little. I don't write BDSM, but the relationship between them was the closest I've come to writing a Dom/sub. Andreas' control over Xavi was psychological rather than physical, and one that Xavi needed and wanted.
I'm quite pleased with the way Jesse's and Will's scenes in Greymalkin turned out as well - especially the one where they have sex and don't break eye contact. That was sooo sexy.

Deanna: Ooh, I wanna read that scene... (((hiccups))) Excuse me! Well, now I know why you call these a Mule.....cuz we're gonna feel like we got kicked by by a Russian mule in the morning, Chris!!! Thank yo so much for visiting the cyber bar and getting me wasted! LOL

And to everyone else, thanks for stopping by and good luck on the drawing for a copy of Greymalkin! And did you see those hotties on that book cover??? YUMMY!!!

Just leave your email in the comments to enter!

by Chris Quinton

The mutual attraction between Jesse and Will is a bonus for Melusine when her enemies close in and she needs to rebuild her war band—starting with Jesse, Will, and Greymalkin.

Jesse Adams is an ex-rugby player who's gone into seclusion to avoid the media following a guilty verdict in a court case. Jesse has come to live for a year in Greenlynn, where he is supposed to be writing his biography.
Will Blake is an out and proud policeman, respected and liked by the community he helps to protect from rural crime.
When the two men meet their attraction is instant, but they have no idea their love will draw them into a centuries' old conflict.
 Melusine, a deity of rivers and seas,  long ago lost the Battle of the Betrayal and is imprisoned in a nexus centred on the source of the Lynn River. She can only travel in the flowing water of her river, and cannot set foot on her banks. Her cats are not so bound. Neither pets nor familiars, they move freely between the realities, her agents among the humans who live along the Lynn.
When Melusine's enemies come to the valley in search of revenge, Jesse and Will discover they have a part to play in the ancient feud. Do they commit to becoming part of a mythical triad, or leave the valley and forget they ever knew that magic exists?

Excerpt:
"This is where the kayakers start," Will said. "We go this way." He turned and bounded up a series of uneven steps hewn from the rock. Now the footpath gave a good imitation of a mountain goat's track. The way climbed from ledge to shelf, taxing Jesse's legs to their limits. Running rough terrain, climbing the stony twisting path wasn't his forte, enjoyable though it was.
Gradually Will drew ahead. Jesse didn't have a problem with that. The way the man moved, the bunch and flex of muscles in those lean legs and buttocks, was a joy to watch. Before long, Will was out of sight. The narrow excuse for a path didn't fork off, so Jesse plodded on.
Ten breathless minutes later, he scrambled up the side of a pretty waterfall, squeezed through a gap between boulders the size of his car, and stopped in his tracks. Behind a partial barrier of large rocks, a bowl-shaped blind gully lay before him lush with ferns and moss, loud with rushing water. A wide pool, its overspill the source of the waterfall, covered two thirds of the gully floor, and steep walls enclosed it all. The still air was warm, humid, filled with the scent of vegetation. A small, very private world.
Will was waiting for him by the water's edge, flushed and sweaty and utterly desirable. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the run, maybe it had been building between them ever since the handshake in the Bridge Inn, but heat pulsed through Jesse's groin and filled his dick. It pressed against the confines of his briefs, heavy and potent. The stones hid him from the waist down, but something must have shown on his face because Will smiled slowly and seductively.
"I have to ask you something," Will said. "Are you over your ex?"
"Yes," Jesse replied. "Since long before the trial." His heart picked up its pace and anticipation tightened his gut. "Why?"
"Are you with anyone?"
"No. Why?"
"I don't do rebounds." Will's voice roughened a little. "And I don't think either of us is looking for commitment. But we could be really good together. How about it, Jess?"
Too fast, too soon, said the commonsense side of Jesse's brain. Hell, yes! clamoured the other, take a chance. For once, intuition and libido were in tune. He knew on a deep instinctual level that Will was unlike any of his previous lovers--not that there had been many of them. Yes, he lusted after the man, but alongside that basic hunger was an underlying need to share something more than sex alone. We could be really good together, Will had said, and Jesse knew he was right. He also knew that no matter how long this--fling?--lasted, it would not end with a betrayal.
His awareness focused on Will, the gloss of sweat on his skin and the way the sunlight glowed around him. He noted the beads of moisture on his upper lip, the rise and fall of his chest, the bulge in his blue shorts, and was moving away from the boulders towards him before he'd made the conscious choice. Will came to meet him, walking into his arms with a delighted smile. When their bodies met, the heat in Jesse's blood became fire, and he wanted this man with a fierceness that took him by surprise.

Buy Links

I'm offering a copy of Greymalkin in either PDF, MOBI or EPUB to one of the commenters below...

You can also find me on Facebook

Sunday, July 13, 2014

FREE BOOK!!!

All day you can enjoy a FREE download of A CUPID'S WAGER today for the Dreamspinner Press Christmas in July event....meanwhile I will be working on book two in this series and the conclusion. This book was always meant to be continued, and I've decided to make it a trilogy which I hope all of you will enjoy!
Happy Sunday!



Blurb:
A CUPID'S WAGER


The name’s Lio, and I’m a cupid working for the Gay Division of the Inter-Dimensional Association of Cupids. An Aztec god, whose modern name, Ethan, doesn't make him any less scary, just busted me shooting a closeted human with a gay lust arrow. I might find him sexy with all those tattoos and piercings, if I didn’t have a rule against getting it on with other supernaturals—especially ones working for the Straight Division. Now, to save my butt I'll have to strike a bargain with this tough god. But what I didn't see coming was my little wager not only risks my career, but places my broken heart completely in Ethan's hands.


Excerpt:

Chapter One

“SHIT!”

I was so gonna get my ass chewed for this.

And not in the good way.

I snapped my fingers, and my quiver of arrows disappeared into the cosmic nothingness where magical things went when demigods snapped their fingers. No clue where that nothingness was, and in my hundreds of years of existence, I’d never bothered to find out.

However, right then, such mysteries were the furthest thing from my mind because I had just nailed another cupid’s mark. Now the glittering trail of purple dust from my lust arrow was like the laser sight of a sharpshooter’s rifle, pinpointing my exact location.

I was so fucked.

Again, not in the good way.

The explosion of both purple and red dust in the street below meant the aftershock of my lust arrow striking the human first had deflected a love arrow. I was pretty sure the owner of said arrow would be coming to bitch me out any second. Cupids could be such whiny little cunts when they wanted to be.

Believe me, I would know.

I’m a cupid.

The name’s Philomenus, but I answer to Lio.

Just one of Eros’s many, many offspring, I’m employed for eternity by the Inter-Dimensional Association of Cupids, or the IDAC. Contrary to what paintings and sculptures depicted, cupids are not fat, naked baby boys in diapers. While on the small side, we look just like regular folks. No wings either. Involved in every aspect of love, from puppy love and first kisses to weddings, the IDAC is militantly organized. They take their task of giving the humans love very seriously—like a supernatural FBI, complete with orders, rules, and procedures.

And I just broke about a hundred of each.

Before I could conjure a location to send myself, a pop sounded behind me.

Huge steellike hands grabbed the collar of my leather jacket and yanked me around.

“What the hell, Lio?”

Bodily shoved against the ledge of the rooftop, I let out a tiny yelp of surprise when the magic inside my body surged white-hot, almost as if it recognized something…. WTF?

That had never happened before.

Then again, I’d never been busted shooting closeted gay men with Class 4G lust arrows either.

Righting myself, I flipped unruly blond curls out of my eyes and faced my attacker, arms out in a show of surrender. “Hey, ease up, pal.”

“What the hell?” that menacing voice growled again.

Thanks to all the gossipy cupids in the IDAC, I recognized the god immediately, though I’d never seen him before.

Éhecatl, the Aztec god of the winds.






Thursday, July 3, 2014

Cocktails & Cock Tales welcomes Jennah Scott!



Today we have Jennah Scott at the cyber bar, author of the sexy lesbian romance Unexpected Vacation. Jennah was born and raised in Texas, Jennah is a transplant to Missouri long enough ago she should probably consider that her hometown. But she will forever be a Texan. She loves to write any story that will make a reader smile, laugh, and maybe even cry (although you won't ever hear her admit that she cries). Whether the next story she writes is contemporary, urban fantasy, LGBT, or whatever other crazy idea she comes up with, there will always be love and romance in the midst of trials and turmoil.

What we are Drinking
 Miami Sunrise
A Miami Sunrise slush from Sonic
Rum

Deanna: First things first. Where are you, and what are you wearing?

Jennah: I’m hanging out at the pool trying to avoid heatstroke! Got my favorite swimsuit on. 

Deanna: What’s your poison? Vodka? Gin? Beer?

Jennah: Today’s poison is one of my own. It’s a Miami Sunrise slush from Sonic with a few splashes of rum. I’m not sure what makes it a Miami Sunrise, but I can tell you each drink makes me think I’m on a beach on a tropical island!

Deanna: (((pours them both a round))) Cheers! That is delicious! Now that we’re comfy, tell me about your new book? (((sips on her cocktail)))

Jennah: (((takes a long drink and pauses to let the brain freeze pass))) Unexpected Vacation is my new release from Ellora’s Cave. This drink actually kind of reminds me of Haley and Savannah. Savannah is left at the altar by her fiancé—the man who supposedly loved her. Haley, being Savannah’s best friend, suggests that they go to Bora Bora and enjoy what was supposed to be her honeymoon. While on vacation they finally let go of their inhibitions and go after what they want—each other.

Deanna: Where did the idea for this story come from?

Jennah: At the pool! A close friend and I were talking about possible ideas after I saw the call on Ellora’s Cave’s website. She’s not a big fan of f/f books, but she said if I wrote she’d read it. (((shrugs))) so I wrote it.

Deanna: LOL, I bet there were some cocktails in that conversation too! What was the hardest part of writing Unexpected Vacation for you?

Jennah: (((finishes off my drink))) To be honest, this was one of the easiest stories I’ve written. The first scene where Savannah is left at the altar came to me almost immediately, and from there everything else fell into place. If I had to pick a hard part, it would be deciding just how long their story would be. I knew they wouldn’t come back from their trip engaged, but I also knew they wouldn’t part again. Haley and Savannah were meant for each other. So it was hard to figure out how to show their forever after without dismissing the issues Savannah faces when she gets home. I mean her fiancé left her at the altar, she had plenty of crap to clean up when she returned to reality. (((smiles)))

Deanna: (((pours them another round))) Boy, these things are tasty!! Now, what’s the easiest thing about writing Unexpected Vacation?

Jennah: Figuring out who Savannah and Haley were. Sometimes I struggle getting into my characters’ minds, but not with these two. They both have very strong personalities, even if Savannah is a little softer than Haley. Neither one of them shut up once I started writing!

Deanna: What is your dream story, your opus, if you will? The one you dream about writing but haven’t don’t it?

Jennah: Hmm. Good question. I have a plot bunny that I really want to write. It’s the only story that’s ever come to me in a dream. But I’m afraid I won’t do it justice. The hero is deployed the day after he asks his girlfriend to marry him and when he comes home he’s not the same. I’d say lovers reunited, but there’s so much more to their story than that. It’s a very emotional story, which is something I haven’t quiet mastered yet. One of these days.

Deanna: Yeah, those heavy emotional stories take a lot out of ya, believe me! How about another round? (((holds up another Sonic cup)))

Jennah: You bet! (((takes a refill and swigs it down)))

Deanna: (((laughing))) Slow down, I still have questions and you’re gonna get brain freeze again! Now, when did you first discover you were a writer? Were you like sitting on the toilet and just said, “Ya know, I think I’m gonna write a book.” Or was it more profound? J

Jennah: (((laughs))) You know, it was almost exactly like that. Instead of the toilet I was sitting on my living room floor. My other (not better cuz that’s me J) half was out of the country for work and I was bored. I picked up my laptop and said “You know, I want to write a story.” As they say, the rest is history. I will note that story won’t ever see the light of day. I went back to read it once and cringed at how horrible it was! (((taps chin))) Then again, maybe it will see the light of day as a horror story rather than a romance. J

Deanna: I’ve stolen so many scenes from my first book there’s no way I could publish it now....and it stunk too! LOL So what helps you when you are stumped on a scene in a manuscript? I usually have a cocktail … or three…LOL But that’s just me.

Jennah: Gotta admit, a cocktail or three would put me to sleep! The best thing for me when I’m stumped is to talk it out with a friend. Even if their ideas don’t work, they at least help me get the juices flowing again. Another option is for me to switch to another story. Not necessarily writing a different story, but plotting or researching or just thinking about possible ideas.

Deanna: Most of my stories have a theme song, do you do that for your characters?? If so what is it?

Jennah: Nope. I’m musically challenged. I listen to music while I write sometimes, but I couldn’t tell you what songs played or who the artists were. When it comes to music, it takes me multiple times listening to a song to even begin to remember who might sing it or for the words to register. I admire anyone who can identify songs that fit based on lyrics.

Deanna: Tell us about a scene that you have written then afterwards, when you read it, you shocked yourself? You know I want a dirty answer (((hint hint)))

Jennah: (((claps hands))) Oh that’s an easy one. And of course it’s dirty! Unexpected Vacation is my first f/f book. So the first sex scene was something I was a little worried about. But when I went back and read it (((whistles))) Hot damn! I admit, I read it a few times. You know…I had to make sure it was just right. J

Deanna: Hahaha! That’s fantastic! Thanks again, Jennah for stopping by the cyber bar. And thank you for bringing along an excerpt from Unexpected Vacation....great title BTW J

Blurb:
The one thing Savannah didn’t plan for on her wedding day was to be left standing alone at the altar. Runaway bride? Try runaway groom.
Haley had planned to stand at her best friend’s side through sickness and health, for richer or poorer…not to mention watching the woman she fell in love with marry a man she barely gets along with.
After Savannah’s wedding day falls apart Haley has to push all her intimate desires to the side and be the supportive friend she knows Savannah needs. But was suggesting they turn her would-be honeymoon into a vacation to Bora Bora her brightest idea?
When emotions boil over, desires are shared—hello, nipple play and oral teasing—and the sun and sand beckon. And two women discover they need each other more than they realized.


Excerpt:
Chapter One

Savannah stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the wedding gown hanging behind her. She’d spent hours with her best friend Haley searching for the perfect dress. More time online trying to find the ideal undergarments. Her cream silk steel-boned corset fit perfectly. The lace boyshorts were another surprise for Mark. In a few minutes she’d step into the white dress with red trim and train—with a red panel in the center lined with jewels—then walk down the aisle to the man she loved.
“Savannah, sweetie, you need to get dressed.” Haley’s voice came from behind the mirror. She’d gone to change and walked around the full-length mirror wearing the one-shouldered, crinkle-chiffon Grecian-style bridesmaid’s dress. The deep red complimented Haley’s olive skin tone. Her long black locks fell over her shoulders in soft waves. The woman was absolutely stunning.
“I know. I know. It’s just…” Haley stood in front of Savannah, blocking the view of the dress behind her. She wrapped her hand behind Savannah’s neck and pulled her head down so they were eye-to-eye.
“What? Talk to me.”
She took a deep breath. Could she really admit what was wrong? It was just cold feet, right? The butterflies in her stomach were completely normal. Every bride had an overwhelming urge to throw up just thinking about walking down the aisle. Right?
“What if this is a mistake? I love Mark but maybe we shouldn’t get married. We’ve only been dating for a couple of years. Maybe we’re rushing things. My stomach is flipping in circles like I’m on one of those roller coasters that go upside down. The palms of my hands refuse to stay dry. I can hardly catch my breath when I think about putting the dress on and walking down the aisle. I don’t know what to do, Haley. Am I crazy?”
“No. You’re not crazy.” A smile spread across Haley’s lips. “You’re in love and you’re about to take part in an event that will change your life forever. There is nothing wrong with you, sweetie. It’s called cold feet and everyone gets it to some degree. There’s no such thing as moving too quick if you both love each other and are confident that this is what you want.”
“That’s just it. Maybe this isn’t what I want. What if tomorrow morning I wake up and realize Mark isn’t the perfect guy for me? What then? It’s too late to go back. Then there’s our friendship. What happens when I’m married?”
What if I wake up in the morning and you’re the one I look for lying next to me? Savannah shook her head. Every time Haley walked in the room lately, Savannah’s body fluttered with an emotion she wasn’t ready to identify. That had to explain the doubt she’d started feeling when thinking about getting married.
“Savannah, you and I aren’t going anywhere. Mark and I get along. He knows how much we mean to each other. Don’t add a nonexistent concern to your list of worries. Tomorrow morning you are going to wake up wrapped in the arms of the man you love. And he’s going to cart you off to Bora Bora where the two of you will spend hours making love and enjoying being newlyweds. Now take a deep breath for me and release it slowly. We need to get you dressed.”

Buy links: Ellora’s Cave | Amazon | All Romance | Barnes and Noble

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Where EASY RYDER began....



Last Summer my first full length novel EASY RYDER came out from Dreamspinner Press. It tells the tale of a young gay man's crosscountry journey of discovery, danger, and love during America's Bicentennial.  This is a special look at the second man in the novel, Snake, as he meets our main hero.
Enjoy! And don't forget to enter the Rafflecopter for your chance to win a copy of
EASY RYDER!


A Happy 4th of July


“Points get wet?”
The youthful voice startled me. It came from a freckle-faced kid in his late teens staring at me with wide, green eyes. I’d seen him climbing out of a semi-truck in the back lot of the Sinclair station earlier, and was no fool as to what and who he had been doing in there. The cardboard sign he held had “California” written on it. A runaway, maybe? If his family had been anything like mine, I couldn’t blame him.
“Maybe,” I answered, returning my attention to the bike. After being caught in the rain the damn thing refused to start. Until I figured out why, I’d be stuck in Indiana. So much for a Happy 4th of July weekend. Why I should expect anything better from life, I didn’t know. Things had been shit long before I enlisted with the Army in ‘71. At least Vietnam had been a better alternative to home.
The echo of vehicles on I-71 howled in the night, the air still sticky but cooler since the rain. In two days would be the Bicentennial—not that I cared. No one cared when we soldiers came home, so why should I give a shit? The dog-tags I wore only elicited pity or hatred. I wanted none of either.
As far as I was concerned, this country could take the celebrations and shove them up its entitled ass.
The kid ran a hand through his light brown hair, drawing my attention. “They should figure out a way to seal up those covers and wiring holes better for when you get caught in the rain.”
“Yeah, probably should.” A flutter of excitement worked across my middle. Was he lingering to chat because he was hinting for a ride? Headed to New Mexico with unfinished and dangerous business, I shouldn’t entertain the idea of picking up a hitchhiker, even if his adorable grin calmed the ache inside me. I was so tired of being lonely. Maybe this was just what I needed.
“At least they don’t use tomato cans anymore,” he offered with a smile.
I raised a brow hearing the Harley-Davidson trivia about their first carburetor. “You know bikes?”
He shrugged his slim shoulders with a mix of pride and embarrassment. “A little.” Confidence resonated within his voice as he told me about the different motorcycles he’d owned or worked on.
Amused by his chatter and annoyed with myself for not thinking to check the ignition points, I lowered the kick-stand and climbed off, putting my back to him as he rambled.
From the corner of my eye I caught his gaze lingering on my ass.
I fought a grin at the blatant hunger in his expression.
Cute as hell and he knew bikes? Didn’t get much better than that.
To hell with what awaited me in Albuquerque. I couldn’t let this one get away. Thank goodness the dark-blue handkerchief in my back right pocket announced I was definitely interested. I shifted so he could get a clear view that if he wanted a ride, I could offer him both kinds.
He cleared his throat. “Good luck.”
Startled, I looked up.
Our eyes met for several heartbeats. I waited for him to accept my subtle offer, but rather than respond, he took his leave. I stared after him, captivated by his pert ass and the way he walked, bouncy and light on the balls of his feet as he headed toward the on-ramp.
No, I hadn’t been off in my initial assumptions about his preferences. However, he’d apparently never been schooled about what different colored handkerchiefs meant. Didn’t know who came up with the ingenious code, but it came in awful handy when searching for likeminded men.
Guess I’d have to be more obvious with this one.
Retrieving a rag from my saddlebag, I dried off the seals the best I could, alternating with the cloth and blowing. I worked quickly, my gaze darting repeatedly to the slim figure hitching near the edge of the on-ramp. Each time the headlights of a passing car illuminated him, I worked faster, fearing he might get away.
Though only a few years younger than me, his youth bespoke an innocence I’d lost long ago. What little had survived my father’s hate had been obliterated by war, pulverized in a cloud of mortar shells and Agent Orange. Envy and wistfulness stirred within me. Would I ever be able to move on, forget what I’d seen and done? What had been done to me?
Probably not. Didn’t mean I could stand by and allow this kid to be tarnished, too. The thought of someone hurting him, destroying that innocence sent a surge of protectiveness through me. With that cute face, he was far too inexperienced and naïve to be on the road alone.
And obvious.
He wore his nature for all to see—not wise in this part of the country.
Once finished, I threw my leg over the bike and popped it into neutral. Gratitude filled me when a throaty rumble met my ears. Sliding on riding glasses, I drove toward the on-ramp, not even wasting time for a smoke. I didn’t want to risk losing him. The kid watched me as I pulled over ten feet ahead of him.
When he hesitated to accept the ride, I glanced back, feeling impatient. “You getting on, or not?”
He gave a surprised start then stashed his sign and jogged forward. I revved the engine, not wanting it to stall out.
“Going to Albuquerque,” I said as he climbed on.
“Far out.”
“Hold on, kid.”
Confident hands gripped my waist when the bike surged onto the highway hard and fast, headed west. He held on just enough to remain seated, but not as close as I’d hoped. I found his lack of assertiveness and experience extremely arousing. What I wouldn’t give to have those arms wrapped tight around my waist, his lithe body pressed against me as we rode!
It would happen soon enough. We had a long ride ahead of us with plenty of time for indulge in everything we both wanted.
I almost laughed aloud.
Moments ago I’d been lamenting life yet now I had the wind in my hair, a sexy, young guy on my bike, and miles of open road stretched in front of me.
This might be a happy 4th of July after all.

 
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