Pretty Things!

Handcuffs and Pretty Things has a cover and, if you click on the cover, there's an entire chapter posted as an excerpt too!

Yes! Available now!

Hi everyone!

Yes! is out today from TEB. It's Male/Male and BDSM. It was originally released as part of Total-e-bound's Friction anthology, so you might want to check you haven't already got it :)

Here's the blurb:

Can Andrew really spend twelve hours saying no to everything Stephen offers him? It’s not going to be easy, when all he wants to say is - Yes!

Andrew likes sex. If someone he’s attracted to wants to have sex with him, he’s not going to say no to them. That’s not a character flaw, it’s just common sense.

Stephen seems to think otherwise. He’s sure Andrew is incapable of saying no to a cheap thrill. But, at the same time, he’s more than happy to provide Andrew with the prefect opportunity to prove him wrong.

Andrew has no doubt that he can say no to everything the younger man offers him for the next twelve hours, and that’s all he needs to do to win their bet. He’s also quite looking forward to cutting the would-be dominant down to size in the process. Because, while he may be easy when it comes to vanilla encounters, Andrew has high standards when it comes to dominants.

There’s no way an inexperienced nineteen year old is going to receive his submission. Andrew will obviously find it easy to say no to that. Won’t he…?

And here's a quick excerpt:

“Are you calling me a slut?”

“I’m merely making an observation,” Kevin’s friend corrected. “You seem to have trouble saying no to men.” He swallowed a mouthful of his coffee and set the mug down on the low table between them.

Andrew Holt raised an eyebrow. He took a sip from his own steaming mug and carefully considered the young man sitting opposite him. He was certainly the type of man Andrew would enjoy saying yes to.

If he hadn’t turned up on Kevin’s arm, Andrew was quite sure he would have said yes, along with far more interesting things, to him weeks ago. However, while Andrew might not be willing to admit to having many morals, he did have standards. Poaching his friend’s lover was beneath them.

A bit of harmless flirtation on a quiet Saturday morning was quite a different thing, he reassured himself. There weren’t any other attractive men in the coffee shop—Kevin would understand how easy it was to get bored in that situation.

“No.” Andrew smiled across the coffee table. “I appear to be quite capable of saying the word to you.”

Kevin’s friend met his eyes and held his gaze for several long seconds. “I’ve never asked you anything that would tempt you to say yes to me.” As serious as he was obviously trying to appear, a hint of a smile continued to play around his lips.

Andrew sighed. For all his faults, knew when the ice was getting thin. It appeared Kevin’s new guy really was Andrew’s favourite type—cheeky, cute and ready to play. If he wasn’t very much mistaken, there was also something about Kevin’s friend that hinted he had the potential to be a very interesting dominant in a few years’ time.

Andrew set his coffee mug and his inclination to give in to temptation aside. “He may be a submissive, but Kevin would still have your balls on a platter if he found out you were screwing around behind his back. Mine too, if I was the one stupid enough to help you cheat on him.”

The guy’s gaze didn’t falter. “Kevin has no interest in any part of my anatomy—on a platter or otherwise. And I don’t think you’re his type, are you?”

Andrew brushed the issue of his own relationship with Kevin aside. Perhaps two submissives could find a way to have some fun with each other, but he’d never been particularly interested in finding out what sort of fun that was. But if Stephen wasn’t involved with Kevin…that really could make things interesting.

“Kevin’s aware that he has no interest in you?” Andrew studied the other man’s responses very carefully. His friend had certainly seemed taken with the guy last time he saw him.

There was no hesitation, no guilt. The guy nodded. “That’s right.”

Andrew nodded, filing that little snippet away in a file marked—yippee! “What was your name again?”

Thanks for reading :)

Yes! is available here.

Have a great day everyone!

Gay Best Friend - Available Now!

Hi guys,

New book out today. Gay Best Friend is an M/M, BDSM short. It’s the tenth book in the G-A-Y Lust Bite Series, but since it’s only connected to the other titles by theme, it can also be read as a standalone.

Here’s the blurb:

And here’s a quick excerpt:

“So what do you do, wash each other’s hair, paint each other’s nails and stuff?”

Carlton Griffiths considered the question very carefully from all possible angles. It still didn’t make the damnedest bit of sense. He glanced briefly across the table at his new co-worker, just in case that might inspire some blinding flash of understanding. It didn’t. Carlton turned his attention back to the match playing on the big screen behind the other man’s shoulder. “What are you on about now?”

“Owens—he’s your ‘gay best friend’, isn’t he? Isn’t that the kind of thing you do together?” Gary chipped in, from his right.

“Bryce?” Carlton frowned as he tossed back the dregs of his pint. “He’s fine. Just leave him be.”

“Sticking up for your boyfriend?”

Carlton leaned to the side in a vain attempt to see the screen past Matthew’s head. He’d never realised the man had such an annoyingly huge skull.

“Well, if you’re not giving each other pretty little make-overs, what are you getting up to with each other?” Simon piped up from the seat next to Matthew.

Carlton put his glass back on the table and tore his eyes away from the screen. He looked at each of his new colleagues in turn. In hindsight, the fact that they’d all seemed far more interested in him than the screen ever since Bryce went up to the bar, should have probably given him a clue much sooner.

Part of him had already been aware that none of them had been thrilled when they found out Bryce was gay. Apparently, none of them had grown a brain since then.

“Fine,” he finally said, with a dramatic little sigh. “You’ve uncovered the truth at last—we’re actually madly in love with each other. Every time we can snatch a moment alone, we’re having wild sex in tons of interesting and varied positions. Now, for the love of all things gay, straight and undecided, will you please shut up so I can watch the damn match!”

Matthew spluttered as he tried to swallow and hyperventilate at the same time. “You what!”

Carlton sighed, for real now. “Sarcasm means nothing to you, does it?”

“Screw sarcasm! Straight guys don’t bloody well say things like that.”

Another look around the table confirmed that they were all staring at him with the same horrified expression.

“It’s called being comfortable with your sexuality,” he informed them.

While they continued to gawp at him, those same expressions still frozen onto their faces, Carlton did his best to ignore them all. It wasn’t easy when Matthew was still sitting between him and the screen. The players kept kicking the ball into one side of his head. Most times it passed through and appeared on the other side as if there was nothing between his ears to stop it, but when it was intercepted somewhere behind his skull Carlton lost any real chance of following play.

“Sounds gay to me,” Gary muttered, somewhere off to Carlton’s right.

The ref blew the whistle for half time. Carlton slumped back in his seat. “Should have gone back to Bryce’s place to watch the game like he said…” Bryce was going to be so bloody smug when he got back to the table with the next round and realised he barely knew the damn score.

“So you could be…comfortable with your sexuality together?” Simon asked.

Carlton rolled his eyes heavenward. This was why it was important to stay at least one drink ahead of the guys he worked with. They were bloody annoying when they were drunker than him. He looked forlornly at his empty pint glass.

“You need to pick a team,” Gary announced, as if he’d just come to that conclusion, as if it wasn’t bloody obvious that Carlton knew which team he was on already.

“I’m straight. Bryce’s gay. We’ve be friends since before either of us were old enough to know what either word means.”

He was straight. Bryce was gay. Carlton repeated the same thought over inside his head, just for good measure. Those were the facts of the matter, and that was the way they were going to stay, even if he did sometimes find himself wondering what would happen if—

Thanks for reading.

Gay Best Friend is available here.

Handcuffs and Glory Holes

Hi everyone,

I’m having a busy week and I have another new book out today! Handcuffs and Glory Holes is a M/M, BDSM erotic romance. It’s the second book in the Rawlings Men series, but it can also be read as a standalone.

Here’s the blurb:

Police Sergeant Conrad Rawlings likes glory holes. As a dominant who’s never learned how to feel casual about even the most fleeting hook up, he’s learned to cherish the complete anonymity they provide. Still, when he hears a cubicle door open as he leaves the back room of a club, he can’t quite help looking over his shoulder.

Submissive Willis Evans doesn’t know why his master ordered him to make sure the stranger from the glory hole sees his face before he leaves the club, but he knows the price for disobedience. Willis does as he’s told. The moment their eyes meet, he can’t help but hope he’ll be allowed to see the other man again.

They are going to meet again, but it won’t be under conditions either of them could predict. Willis’ master has a plan—one which could easily break them both.

And here’s a quick excerpt:

The door leading into the back room of the club creaked open. It was the cue Willis Evans had been listening for, for over twenty minutes. As the sound of footsteps crossing the tiles floated into his cubicle, Willis lowered himself to his knees. The floor in the pokey little space was much the same as he’d always found it—cold, hard and far from clean.

The partition wall shuddered as the door into the neighboring cubicle was pulled closed behind its new occupant. Willis took a deep breath and let it out very slowly when he heard the lock on the other man’s door slide into place.

All his attention focused in on the hole between the adjoining spaces. A few seconds passed, and a foil wrapper was offered through it. Willis stared at it for a moment, as if he’d never seen a condom before. Finally, his brain kicked into gear. He took the packet from the man on the other side of the glory hole.

It was nice of the guy to offer him the choice, but a second’s consideration had Willis slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans. No point wasting it on a blow job when there might be someone who’d be willing to use it for something more than that later.

Fabric rustled. Willis turned his gaze back to the hole linking his world with the other man’s. The edges of the opening might have been rough when it was first cut, but at some point some practical-minded visitor to the club had covered the perimeter with masking tape. The DIY job had been pristine when Willis had first visited the cubicle, several months ago. The strips were peeling away now, battered by constant friction.

Past the circular frame created by the remaining partition, Willis watched strong hands reach for a button up fly.

The lighting was dim, full of shadows, but as Willis stared through the hole, he could have sworn a spotlight shone on the other man’s crotch, as if it was highlighting a personal little peep show, being put on just for him.

The top button slipped through the denim, then another. The hands that unfastened the other guy’s fly were big, masculine—a working man’s hands.

More buttons were quickly undone, it wasn’t long before Willis knew his first ‘date’ for the evening was going commando. Pushing back the denim, the other man exposed a long, thick shaft, already half hard with expectation.

The guy wrapped his fist around his cock, stroking himself three or four times before finally offering his cock up to the hole. He was tall, the hole was only just high enough to accommodate him.

Licking his lips, trying to work some moisture in a mouth left dry by unaccountable nerves, Willis leaned forward and took the tip of the offered cock into his mouth. There was no reason to be anxious. It was just a blow job—he should have been able to do that in his sleep by now.

Willis closed his eyes as simple instinct encouraged him to suckle gently around the head of the other man’s cock while it rested snugly inside his mouth. He took a little bit more of the shaft between his lips, dipping his head toward the hole in the partition.

Just a blow job…

A tiny satisfied sigh drifted through the partition and, as easily as that, something inside Willis settled. The pleasure in the soft little sound soothed a part of him that had been neglected for far too long. It was just a blow job—just a chance to feel another man’s pleasure and know he was the guy who made the other man feel that good. As Willis felt all his concerns about the wider world begin to fade gradually away, there was no just about it.

To buy the book, or read a longer excerpt, just click on the cover at the top of the post.

Buy Gay Friendly and help a great cause!

Hi everyone,

I have a new book out today with Total-e-bound.

This one is a little bit special in that I’m hoping it’s going to make a bit of money for a local charity.

100% of all the royalties I receive for the book, primary and secondary sales over the full duration of the contract, will be donated to Tŷ Hafan Children’s Hospice.

That means everyone who buys the book direct from the TEB website will be donating 70p (just over $1 US) to a really fantastic cause.

Here’s a bit about the charity (taken from their website):

Tŷ Hafan offers comfort, care and support for life-limited children and young people and is dedicated to improving the quality of life of their whole family.

Tŷ Hafan was established in 1999 to provide respite, palliative and end of life care to the children in Wales who suffer from life-limiting conditions. Life limiting conditions are those which mean that the child or young person is not expected to reach nineteen years of age.

Children suffer from various conditions, such as Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, Cystic Fibrosis and Celebral Palsy. Some children are diagnosed at birth; others receive no diagnosis or at some point treatment is abandoned. Children and their families might receive our support for many years or just for a few days at the end of life. Either way, Tŷ Hafan provides love, care and support for the children and their families absolutely free of charge.

Tŷ Hafan is a registered charity and was established entirely from public donations. It now costs £2.5 million a year to run the hospice and all but 17% (Government funding) is raised through the generosity of our donors and supporters.

And here’s a bit about the story - Gay Friendly is a Male/Male BDSM lust bite length story. It’s the ninth book in the G-A-Y collection, but since they are linked solely by theme, all the books can also be read as standalone titles. I should also probably mention that the plot of the book, has nothing to do with the great work Tŷ Hafan does.

Here’s the blurb:

Ellis thought a gay friendly hotel sounded nice. He didn’t realise just how friendly the men there would be…

Ellis is gay and out—technically at least. Unfortunately the only other gay man he’s acquainted with is his cousin Harry. When he suddenly gets the chance to visit a gay friendly hotel with his cousin, in exchange for paying his share of the petrol money, he assumes the impromptu holiday will be a nice gentle way to ease his way into gay society before he starts university in September.

Dominant Mitchell Thompson has fond memories of the hotel where he came out almost two decades ago. He returns there every year, and always finds it to be exactly the same unashamedly kinky hook-up party it has always been. When he stumbles across a sweet little novice who’s obviously way out of his depth at the resort, his trip down memory lane suddenly becomes far more interesting.

And here’s a quick excerpt:

“I think I might be the only gay man on the planet who’d actually like to know someone’s name before he starts grabbing my arse.”

Half way along the path, Mitchell Thompson paused and looked over his shoulder. He frowned slightly as he shook his head at himself, sure he must have misheard.

“No, I’m not bloody well exaggerating. You have no idea what the men here are like!”

Thompson turned around and retraced his steps to a gap between the excess of greenery that separated a secluded little seating area from the paths that flanked it. The leaves parted to reveal a stunning view over the cliff tops to the sea beyond, but Thompson’s attention never actually moved past the young man in the middle of the scene.

He had a mobile phone glued to his ear, and he was sitting on the table with his feet on one of the chairs, but otherwise, he presented a pretty picture.

“I did not!” His eyes opened very wide. Pale pink lips morphed into an inviting little O. “I came here because he said the hotel was gay friendly. Friendly,” the younger man stressed. “Handshakes are friendly, clapping someone on the shoulder and watching rugby matches with someone is friendly. Trying to grab someone’s cock before you’ve even said hello is not friendly, it’s…it’s…well, it’s a damn sight more than friendly!”

Thompson smiled to himself. The younger man sounded so shocked, so innocently appalled by it all.

The boy pushed his hand through his hair, disordering the dark brown spikes. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just not as gay as I thought I was…”

Thompson’s smile faded a fraction. The younger man sounded so lost, so uncertain about it all.

A noise from the path on the other side of the seating area caught the boy’s attention. He rushed out his goodbyes and hung up on whomever had been playing agony aunt for him.

Mitchell tore his attention away from the younger man just in time to see a group walk out from the excessive shrubbery. There were half a dozen men, none of them much older than the boy at the table, and all of them more than a little tipsy. If Thompson was any judge, they were harmless. They were just as obviously out of the boy’s league.

“Hello, darling!” One of them hopped up onto the table and put his arm around the smaller man’s shoulder. “Your Harry’s—”

“Cousin,” the boy cut in, evidently thoroughly fed up with men assuming that he was Harry’s something else. “I’m his cousin.” He made a subtle attempt to move out of the newcomer’s embrace. It was so subtle, the other man didn’t even appear to notice.

“Edward!” One of the other men remembered as he sat down on the seat the boy had been resting his feet on, blocking one of his escape routes.

“Ellis.” The correction was accompanied by an embarrassed smile and an attempt to make his exit by edging crabwise along the table. He edged his way directly into a dark haired young man.

Ellis gave a shocked little yelp as he realised he was effectively pinned between the group, or maybe because his attempts to back away from one man had put his hand onto the crotch of another. He snatched his hand back. “Sorry, I…”

The guy laughed. “No need to be sorry, sweetheart.” He caught his wrist and guided it good naturedly back towards his cock. Ellis’ eyes opened wider than ever. His mouth opened and closed several times, too. No words came out.

“That’s enough.” Thompson stepped out from the greenery. Every pair of eyes turned towards him.

And that's it. Just click on the pic at the top if you want to pick up a copy :)

Marrick's Promise - Available Now

Hi everyone!

Marrick’s Promise is now available from Resplendence Publishing. It’s book two in the Thrown to the Lions Series, and it’s best read in sequence as part of that series. It’s also Male/Male/Male, BDSM and werelions.

Just click on the cover art to buy :)

Here’s the blurb:

Marrick thinks that being thrown to the lions will be the ultimate adrenaline rush, and he’s not disappointed. But his plan is to try everything life has to offer once. He has no intention of visiting the lions again.

Blaine and Luther don’t expect to give any of the human sacrifices they share another thought once they leave the den. This man’s different. They have no intention of letting this one go. The only question is, while they are willing to share Marrick with each other, are they willing to share each other with a human who could become as important to each of them as they are to each other?

And here’s a quick excerpt:

As far as Marrick Powell was concerned, there was only one thing better than one naked man pressed intimately against his skin, and that was two naked bodies, completely surrounding him with a solid wall of heat and strength.

Lions…the very thought of the shifters had kept him hard ever since the guys at the pub had first put him, bound and blindfolded, in the back of the limo. The reality of it was so much better than any of the possibilities his imagination had managed to cook up—especially since there seemed to be a fantastic buy one get one free offer on werelions that night.

Rough gravel bit into Marrick’s feet as he wriggled between the two shifters, but that wasn’t important. His squirming informed him that the guy behind him was just as hard as he was. Sore feet couldn’t compete with that sort of knowledge. Arching his back, he explored the other man as best he could while his hands were still bound behind his back.

The man…the lion…the…whatever the hell he should be called, was all gloriously hard muscle. Marrick pushed his arse back in encouragement as the tip of the other guys cock nudged against the cleft between his buttocks.

Someone purred in his ear. Rough palms slid down his arms. Another set of equally demanding hands slid up his chest, exploring him as if it was their right—as if he’d given them that right when he agreed to be their human sacrifice for the night. Marrick grinned blindly into the night air as an extra shot of adrenaline raced through his veins as the truth of his situation sunk in. He redoubled his efforts to explore the other men in return.

Great builds, equally impressive cocks—there were some things he was soon certain of. But the men could still have been twins for all Marrick was able to tell them apart through his blindfold. They moved around him, caressing and assessing him, changing places with each other until he had no idea which man had originally been where.

A tiny part of him cared which man was which. Most of him really didn’t give a damn. It wasn’t as if he was ever going to see their faces, as if he’d ever meet them again. The pure anonymity of it all made his heart race faster, his body arch into their touch even more eagerly.

Bungee jumping had been a rush. White water rafting better than he’d ever imagined it could be. But, in that moment, Marrick knew that being thrown to the lions was easily going to be the best thing he’d ever tick off the extensive list of things he was determined to squeeze into his life. Even the whips wielded by the local doms couldn’t compete with the endorphins just being close to the lions sent swirling through him.

One of Marrick’s soon to be lovers purred his approval against his neck as Marrick managed to force his restrained hands into a position where he could wrap his fist around the shifter’s cock.

He was just like a very well hung human—except for the fact his whole body was hotter than any man Marrick had ever known. The cool air that blew across the driveway didn’t seem to worry either shifter. Caught between them, Marrick found himself content to let the party start wherever the hell they wanted it too.

Gravel marks on his knees probably wouldn’t be that much more painful than carpet burns, and if the sharp little stones broke the skin, Marrick gave a mental shrug—he knew he’d enjoy looking at the scars when the blindfold came off.

“Inside—all of you!”

The voice didn’t come from either of his new friends. Disorientated from the lions’ inspection of him, Marrick could only assume it originated from inside the house. He moaned his disapproval as the other men slipped away from him, leaving him with nothing more than their hands gripping his arms as they led him forward.

He stumbled along between them, into the mild warmth of one room, then into the heat of another. The softness of a rug under his feet tempered his silent curses a little. He’d had gravel rash a time or two when his faith in his mountain biking ability wasn’t matched by his actual talent—it hadn’t been a particularly erotic sort of pain. A rug would probably be more fun. Besides, they had the whole evening. No point staying out there the whole time and catching a chill…

The hands on Marrick’s arms remained long after they came to a halt. It didn’t take him long to realize that all three of them were facing someone else now. Marrick tried to get a sense of the room and who might be studying him and his new friends.

He had the distinct impression he was being inspected, but it was nothing like feeling a voyeur’s gaze traverse his skin—he’d felt that often enough in the clubs. The gaze felt more like the way he imagined a betting man might judge the worth of a boxer about to step into the ring. It was impersonal, practical, and had a strange way of making a man hope it would declare him up to scratch for the bout.

“I take it there’s no need to ask if you two are interested in him.” The voice was deep and rich, and whoever it belonged to wasn’t making any attempt to hide his amusement. Marrick grinned, guessing the other two men were still just as hard as he was.

“Yes,” someone said to his left. The man on his right said nothing. Marrick could only hope that was because he’d offered up a silent nod instead.

“He’ll probably enjoy himself far more if you leave his arms in working order.” A hint of seriousness crept into the voice facing them.

The hands on his arms instantly eased their grips. Behind the blindfold, Marrick frowned. They’d felt pretty bloody good as they were. The grips didn’t tighten again, but the men’s hold did alter as he felt someone step in front of him. Barely a fraction of a moment later, the other man’s hand slid against his skin and Marrick felt the second shifter move behind him.

“Manners, Luther,” the deep, serious voice bit out.

The lion in front of Marrick pulled back a little as he seemed to hesitate. “If you say ‘sword’, we have to let you go.” The words were little more than a rough purr.

The still un-named lion behind Marrick lined his body up against him, pressing a hard shifter-cock against his arse. “If you don’t say it, we can do whatever we want with you.” His voice was harsher, and dominant enough to send an expectant thrill down Marrick’s spine.

He waited impatiently for one of the men to move. The entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting with him. A full minute passed.

“They won’t do anything until you give them your answer.” That was the deeper voice again.

Marrick blinked in the darkness behind the blindfold as he realized they weren’t waiting with him, but for him. “I understand. Safe word’s sword. Got it.”

The words before hadn’t been a purr. The noise the shifter in front of him made as he brought their lips together was a purr. The vibrations shot down Marrick’s spine and rushed straight to his cock, making him moan as he parted his lips and invited the other man to deepen the kiss.

Once more surrounded by naked skin as the shifter behind him pulled him closer, Marrick rocked his hips rubbing his arse against one lion, his cock against the other, and any bit of skin he could, against any available portion of the other men’s bodies.

Tugging at the bindings around his wrists, he tried to work out if he could squirm his way out of the cuffs. The blindfold was fair enough. Anonymity—a few hours stolen away from the real world where a man could do whatever the hell he liked and never have to face the other guy, or guys, in the morning. He was all on board for that. The blindfold was hot. The cuffs were just bloody well annoying.

Either the lions didn’t notice that he was trying to get rid of them, or they didn’t care. The lion in front of him, the one called Luther, broke the kiss. A moment later Marrick’s face was turned, his mouth captured by another eager pair of lips.

A rough tongue thrust into his mouth demanding to taste him. Marrick’s tongue stroked against the shifter’s, eagerly sparring with him as he tried to explore the other man’s mouth in return.

The lion slid his hands into Marrick’s hair as they fought each other for control of the kiss, but the shifter’s grip on him provided scant advantage, especially when he kind of liked the way the guy tugged at the short black strands.

Marrick was almost as good at controlling a kiss as the other guy—almost. Pleasure rushed through him as the other guy wrangled control from him and refused to give any scrap of it back.

As one kiss was broken and the other lion took his turn possessing Marrick’s mouth, one of the shifters wrapped his fingers around Marrick’s cock. His grip was strong, his strokes rapid, but at the same time, he could tell the other man was holding back on him, gentling his touch when he could easily have been rougher.

Sod that. There was no way he was going to stand for being treated like some fragile little princess. That wasn’t what he’d signed up for. He could hold his own in the best leather clubs in the city, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t do the same in the lions’ den too.

Just click on the cover art to buy.

Gay Man Seeks Same

Hi everyone,

Gay Man Seeks Same is out today from Total-e-bound. It’s Male/Male, BDSM. It’s the 8th book in the G-A-Y Lust Bite series, but it can be read as a standalone.

Just click on the pic to find out more.

Here’s the blurb:

Can a man who wants nothing more than to be part of a boring old married couple really find happiness with a man whose relationships have only ever lasted until he zips up his fly?

Craig knows what he’s looking for in a lover. He wants someone just like him—a nice guy he can build a nice, simple, uneventful life with. He’s hoping that’s just the sort of man who will answer his internet ad.

Donovan’s nothing like Craig. He’s all about leather, fast cars and relationships that last hours rather than years. They may work at neighbouring desks, and Craig may have a crush on his colleague, but that doesn’t mean he should forget about the kind of man he’s sure will make him happy in the long run.

The only trouble with internet ads is you never know who will answer them…

And here’s a quick excerpt:

“You realise the guy’s never going to recognise you from that ad?”

Craig McKinley ignored the question and frowned at the choice of ties laying on his desk. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. He reached for the blue, hesitated and went back to looking at each strip of fabric in turn.

“I said—” Donovan began again, from the desk to Craig’s right.

“I told the truth,” Craig said. He wasn’t going to worry about the possibility he and his internet date might spend his entire lunch break lurking around the same bar without recognising each other. He wasn’t going to worry about any of the other things that could go wrong either.

The tie was the thing to concentrate on. Pick the right tie and everything would be fine—or, at least, he’d feel more appropriately dressed when everything went wrong and it all hit the fan.

“The ad said… Twenty-six year old gay man seeks same for long term relationship. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Slim build. Average appearance. Own home and car. Secure job.”

Craig nodded to each point as the slightly older man recited the ad at him. “Like I said—I told the truth.”

Donovan made a sceptical noise in the back of his throat. “Maybe—more or less.”

Craig frowned, wondering which part of the advertisement the other man thought he was lying about.

“You’re really selling yourself short on the whole average thing, sweetheart.”

Craig didn’t need to look to the side and see the other man’s expression. He’d spent long enough staring at Donovan over the months they’d worked at adjoining desks to know just how the other man’s eyes sparkled when he teased.

Heat rushed to Craig’s cheeks, despite the fact he knew Donovan flirted with everyone in the building, male and female, in exactly the same way. Craig mentally rolled his eyes at himself. Eight bloody months, and the guy could still get him all hot under the collar with nothing more than a casual compliment.

“But that’s not my point,” Donovan went on. “He won’t recognise you, because he’ll assume you were lying. No one tells the truth in that sort of advert.”

“The kind of man I’m hoping to meet would.”

Donovan let out a long suffering sigh. “If you’d let me take you to a club rather than put some ad on the internet then—”

“I don’t like clubs, and I’m not looking for some drunken one night stand.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Craig followed them up with a string of silent curses inside his head.

He gave in to temptation and glanced to his right. His colleague appeared more amused than offended. Donovan lounged back in his office chair, denim clad legs sprawled out under his desk as if he was relaxing in a pub rather than sitting in an office.

“The men I’d meet in the clubs around here would be…” Craig trailed off.

“Men like me?” Donovan’s lips twisted into a lopsided little smile. Craig was sure it was that smile that had all the guys in the local gay clubs queuing up to spend a night in Donovan’s bed, or to join him in the alley, or…Craig wasn’t sure of the details. He tried to avoid hearing any gossip regarding the other man’s sex life.

He didn’t need anyone to help him picture Donovan having sex. He was quite capable of doing that on his own—and it was far more fun to do so in private than while standing around the vending machine. Especially since the last thing he wanted, was for his colleagues to guess just how much he enjoyed imagining the other man doing a wide variety of interesting, x-rated things.

Donovan leaned even further back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head until they almost touched the work station behind them. Craig’s eyes raked down the other man’s body, from where his t-shirt pulled tight across his pecs and rucked up to expose his abs, then further down to the low slung waist of his jeans. A light dusting of brown hairs formed a pretty little happy trail that disappeared into his fly.

It wasn’t just the smile that made everyone so eager to spend an evening in Donovan’s company. Craig snapped his attention back to his ties and his plans for his lunch hour.

“I’m just looking for someone…someone more like me.” Yes, he repeated inside his head. That’s what he was looking for. Someone ready to settle down, someone who thought a relationship should be counted out in years rather than hours. He was not looking for a Donovan Stone.

Thanks for reading :)

Competition Winners Announced

Hi everyone,

First of all a huge thank you to everyone who joined me on my celebration post last week. All your comments really meant a lot.

The winners of the competition are: Sandy Jay and Nikyta.

All you have to do is e-mail me and let me know which book you’d like me to send you!

And, since I got a little bit carried away and forgot to actually tell you anything about the book that was released last week, lol, here’s the blurb and the excerpt…

Blurb:

All Constable Hadley wants to do is put the last few weeks behind him. As if being taken hostage wasn’t bad enough, he’s had to deal with all the stupid publicity that’s surrounded him ever since. And the fact that he hasn’t slept since that night isn’t helping him feel any better about the world either.

The last thing Hadley needs is a shrink wandering around inside his head trying to dig up all his dirty little secrets. When he finds out he’s being sent to Dr. Rawlings—the man he’s had a crush on for months—Hadley knows his life has finally hit rock bottom.

The only thing that could make things worse for Hadley would be Dr. Rawlings finding out how he feels about him. But fate wouldn’t be that cruel to him—would it?


And here’s the excerpt:

Just imagine him naked… Talk about the single worst piece of advice anyone had ever given a guy.

Constable Joe Hadley held back a sigh and did his best not to gawp like a teenage boy who couldn’t sit opposite a grown man without making a compete pillock out of himself.

Dr. Rawlings gazed back at him across the desk—tall, dark and as perfect as ever.

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, Hadley renewed his attempts not to stare. It wasn’t easy. And it wasn’t fair either. Psychiatrists weren’t supposed to look like that.

They were supposed to be…well, Hadley wasn’t entirely sure, but surely any man who spent all his time sitting behind a desk digging through other people’s minds should be… Shorter? Skinnier? Generally far less like the guy Hadley had been fantasizing about ever since he’d realized that gay porn was a damn sight more interesting than the straight kind?

And now that he’d started picturing the man stark bullock naked, he couldn’t stop. The mental image wasn’t making him the least bit less nervous. It was starting to make him hard.

Hadley cleared his throat. “Can we just get this over with?”

The other man’s lips twitched. Hadley had seen that smile creep out when Rawlings was at the police station consulting on a case. Except, back at the station, there were always a dozen other police officers in the room, and Hadley had some chance of blending into the background.

In the station, the feeling that his every reaction was being studied and dissected by the other man was obviously paranoia. In the psychiatrist’s office, it was hard to believe the idea was anything other than perfectly accurate.

“That’s good, Hadley,” Rawlings said, his voice slow and rich with amusement. “This sort of session is always far easier when everyone’s enthusiastic about it, right from the start.”

Hadley wasn’t going to blush. He was twenty-five years old, a serving police officer and lots of other things that meant he certainly wasn’t the sort of man who blushed like a little girl when confronted by a little bit of gentle sarcasm—even if it was drawled by the same voice he often imagined ordering him down onto his knees…

The constable felt the heat rush to his cheeks regardless of all the very logical things he told his blood supply. “I’m not traumatized,” he blurted out, suddenly desperate to just get it all over with as quickly as possible.

Rawlings raised an eyebrow at him. Well, Dr. Rawlings could cheerfully go to hell, because it was the truth. And no man was going to make him squirm like a naughty schoolboy called into the headmaster’s office just for telling the truth.

Hadley folded his arms as he leaned back in the deeply upholstered chair and crossed his ankles. A second later, he leaned forward, clasping his hands together as he rested his elbows on his knees.

“I’m not traumatized,” he repeated, slightly more calmly. “I don’t need a shrink.” When Dr. Rawlings said nothing, Hadley had no choice but to push on. “And, since I’m sure there are a great many people who really do need your help, I don’t want to waste any more of your time than I already have.”

“That makes sense,” Rawlings agreed.

Hadley managed a nervous smile. “So, if you’ll just show me the inkblots or tick the box that says I’m not psychotic then we could—”

“We could just get this over with?” Rawlings cut in.

Hadley leaned back in his chair once more. Not sure what else to say or do, he fell completely still and silent.

After a few seconds, Rawlings nodded to himself, as if that was what he’d been waiting for ever since Hadley arrived at his office. “Tell me what happened.”

Hadley was pretty sure it was supposed to sound like an invitation to share his deepest darkest secrets with a trained professional. Somehow his brain turned it into an order, a command to do as the other man said or accept the consequences when he was turned over Rawlings’ knee.

-------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading!

The book is available here :)

Proudly presenting - Gay Pride!

Hi everyone,

I have a new e-book out today.

If you like the bratty subs from any of the previous books, Gay Pride one might be one for you!

Here’s the blurb:

A naked submissive and a rainbow coloured flag, what gay dominant could resist?

Crenshaw hasn’t had much time to hit the leather clubs since he got really involved in the gay pride movement, but when he finds a drunken submissive standing on his doorstep wearing nothing more than a rainbow coloured flag, it’s obviously time for him to get back into the game.

Jayden might not be really into the whole gay pride thing, but he’s very proud of his plan to get Crenshaw’s attention. All he has to do now, is convince the older man to keep him around once he’s sobered up.

And here’s a quick excerpt:

The young man was naked, bar the rainbow coloured flag. He’d wrapped the material around his shoulders and draped it over his body, but as the wind caught at the edge of the fabric it was impossible to miss just how bare he was behind the scant covering.

Mr. William Crenshaw looked his visitor up and down and quickly came to the conclusion that he’d never seen him before in his life. He’d have remembered a face like that. Bright blue eyes peeked out from behind a messy mop of blond hair as the breeze blew the several golden strands across the boy’s face.

As he reached up to push his hair out of the way, the boy almost lost his grip on his flag. Crenshaw caught a glimpse of beautiful lines of slim muscle before the younger man pulled the fluttering fabric back into place. He’d have remembered a body like that too.

“Hi.”

Crenshaw pulled his attention back up to the other man’s eyes. “Hello.” He waited for the other man to say something else, perhaps even to present some explanation of why he was standing on his doorstep. The guy offered him a hopeful little smile, but that seemed to be the only contribution he intended to make to the conversation.

Holding back a sigh, Crenshaw looked past the man who’d rung his door bell and glanced both ways along the quiet street. The car he expected to see parked a little way down the road wasn’t there. At least, there was an unfamiliar car, but it didn’t contain any of the men he’d assumed that it would.

On the positive side, the vehicle didn’t contain any paparazzi either. That was something to be grateful for, at least.

Crenshaw’s visitor turned and followed his gaze. “Were you expecting someone else, sir?” He sounded quite worried about the possibility.

“No, I wasn’t expecting anyone.” He’d actually been quite content with the prospect of some peace and solitude after a day filled with meetings crammed full of men who thought their point would carry more weight if it was shouted very loudly.

A relieved light filled the younger man’s eyes. He smiled as he shrugged his shoulders in an effort to stop the flag from slipping away again. Crenshaw took a deep breath and resisted the temptation to let it out as a sigh. When the man facing him looked so young and clueless, it was hard not to feel old. The flag bearer couldn’t have been far into his twenties. His nervousness made him appear even younger.

“Exactly which of the leather clubs are you attempting to join?” Crenshaw asked with as much patience as he could muster. He hadn’t heard anything about any new subs being hazed in anywhere that weekend. Although, it had been so long since he’d found time to hit the clubs and play, it was hardly surprising that he’d lost track of what had been pencilled into the local kinky calendar.

The relief drained out of the younger man’s eyes to be replaced with confusion. “Sir?”

The honorific implied that he had some tiny clue about the world he was trying to work his way into but, if Crenshaw was any judge, that was the full extent of his knowledge. Whatever idiot thought the boy was ready to try and become a formal member of any club deserved to be soundly whipped—unless they were a masochist, of course, in which case they deserved to be soundly barred from the pleasure of a whipping for the foreseeable future.

The boy rocked back onto his heels. He righted himself just a moment before Crenshaw reached out to keep him on his feet. “You’re drunk.”

The younger man gave the matter considerable analysis. “Yes, sir.”

Crenshaw ground his teeth. “Who sent you here?” If nothing else, he would have to find out which club the sender belonged to—if only so he could make his opinions on getting young men drunk and sending them off to submit to strangers very clear.

If this was any indication of the way standards had slipped while he’d been focusing on other things, there was no doubt that he’d have to find the time to visit the clubs more often.

Being discreet about his taste in leather was one thing, but he was damned if he was going to let a certain type of reporter keep him out of the clubs forever—especially not when the local scene seemed to be going to the dogs in his absence.

Thanks for reading!

Kim Dare.
Kink, love and a happy ending. Do you Dare?

Bi Now, Gay Later

Bi Now, Gay Later is available from today, from Total-e-bound.

It's a Male/Male, BDSM book and the fifth book in my Perfect Timing series, but since the series is connected solely by theme and all the books can stand alone too.

Here's the blurb:


Can a bi submissive really find happiness with a master who doesn’t believe bisexuality exists?

Jerry would be Denton’s ideal submissive—if only he would just get his last foot out of the closet and admit he’s properly gay. Denton loves Jerry, but he knows it’s a master’s responsibility to make sure his submissive doesn’t lie to himself or the rest of the world. He can’t let Jerry hide behind the bi-sexual label forever.

Jerry has no doubt that he’s one-hundred percent bi-sexual. He’s also well aware how much his master hates that fact. Jerry loves his master and he wants to please him, but he can’t lie and say he’s gay when he knows he’s not. Denton would be Jerry’s ideal master, if he could just accept the fact he’s bi.

Eventually, somebody’s going to have to give in and admit he’s wrong. The only question is who?


And here's a quick excerpt:

“Do you reckon he spends a lot of time thinking about having sex with women?”

Denton Greenwood’s lips quirked into an amused little smile as he turned to his friend. “I have no idea who you’re talking about. But, since we’re in a gay bar, I’ll go out on a limb and guess that no one in here spends a lot of time thinking about doing anything with a woman.”

“Jerry’s not gay though, is he?” Peter pointed out. “He’s bi.”

Denton’s fingers tightened around his glass as his eyes automatically sought out a blond head of hair in the crowd. Someone stepped to one side. Jerry came into view. “He’s not bi.”

“He says he’s bi.” Peter drained his glass and put it clumsily on the little table between their leather arm chairs. “Do you think that means he thinks about screwing women as often as he thinks about screwing men?”

Denton clenched his jaw as he watched Jerry nod his agreement with whatever the man standing next to him was saying. “He’s gay.”

Peter shook his head. “He says he’s bi. He should know.”

“I am his master,” Denton snapped. “I know which way my lover swings, and Jerry is as gay as any man in this bar.”

Even on his eighth pint, Peter seemed to realise he’d hit a nerve. “How’s it working out between…?” he trailed off.

Denton continued to watch his lover speaking to some of his friends, all of them other collared submissives, on the opposite side of the room.

“Everything’s fine,” he snapped. It didn’t sound like it when he bit the words out like that, but it was the truth.

In the months since Jerry had come under his protection, the younger man had turned out to be a damn near perfect match for him.

“He seems to have come into his own since you gave him his permanent collar,” Peter offered.

Denton nodded. That was true too. He’d never guessed that the stunning, if rather tentative, submissive who had first come to his attention would thrive so well under his rules and discipline, but Jerry had a way of wrapping rules around himself as if they were a comforting blanket, and taking every limitation his master put upon him as a gift. And, more than any of that, he had a way of throwing himself so wholeheartedly into his submission that the idea of letting him go had quickly become unthinkable.

As loath as Denton was to act soppy for anyone, even Jerry, he could just about admit that the submissive was the only one of his lovers he had ever actually fallen in love with. As long as they were alone and not doing anything overtly romantic at the time of any such admission, of course. A dominant had to hold on to some sort of standards. He wasn’t so far gone that he was willing to shout it from the roof tops or let heart toting teddy bears worm their way into his life.

Denton held back a sigh. Damn near perfect, was all well and good. But knowing his lover could be completely perfect if he would just admit he was gay just made it all the more difficult to accept the younger man’s stubborn insistence that he was bisexual with every day that passed. To feel perfection there, waiting just out of his reach, it was like a persistent itch at the back of Denton’s neck.

Trying to push the issue out of his mind, the way he had so many times before, he ran his eyes down Jerry’s body. It wasn’t an easy task when so much of his lover’s skin was concealed from him. For an absolutely gorgeous man, he was sweetly shy about his skin being put on display before anyone but his master. His inclination to hide himself away behind jeans and a long sleeve t-shirts whenever Denton hadn’t made a point of ordering him into something different was damn near a fetish.

Right then Denton couldn’t manage to smile indulgently at Jerry’s bashfulness the way he usually did. Jerry was his—all of him, and he wasn’t inclined to accept any part of his lover not being visible and available to him at that moment. He wasn’t about to just sit around watching while Jerry’s attention moved from one submissive to another and never once turned toward his master.

Rising from his chair, he left his friend sitting with the other dominants as he marched across the room. The moment he put his hand on Jerry’s shoulder the younger man tensed. As he turned to face Denton, he realised exactly who was laying a hand on him and his expression morphed into a welcoming smile.

“May I serve you, master?”

Thanks for reading. Bi Now, Gay Later is available here.

What can you do in three minutes?

Hi everyone,

My new Male/Female BDSM book - Three Minute Man - is out today. It's book four in the perfect timing series, but it's only linked to the others in the series by theme, so it can be read entirely on its own too.

Here’s the blurb:

Three minutes doesn’t give Ian much time to prove he’s the dominant that Susan had given up on finding, but it’s amazing what the right dominant can do in three minutes!

Ian had plans for the submissive he’d seen playing casual games with other dominant men in the local leather bars, but she disappeared off the kinky scene before he had a chance to claim her. When he finds her working in a speed dating club, he’s determined not to let her slip through his fingers again.

Susan made a conscious decision to give up on the lifestyle. She’s not going to change her mind just because some dominant strolls into her life and starts snapping his fingers. The fact that Ian calls to the very part of her that she’s been trying to repress for the last eighteen months isn’t important. She’s not going back on her decision.

Unfortunately for Susan, she’s never been able to resist a bet—not when there’s more than money at stake.

And here’s a quick excerpt:

“Gorgeous!”

“If you’re talking about another damn car rather than a woman, I’m officially disowning you.”

Ian Georgeson stood stock still on the edge of the crowded car park, not paying the least attention to his younger brother’s threats. The view through the window into the club held him completely transfixed. The rows of shiny sports cars behind him suddenly became far less interesting than they had been a moment before.

“Ian, you listening or what…?” Billy trailed off.

Ian didn’t look around. He was sure his brother had caught sight of the same woman he was admiring through the glass.

“Sweet,” Billy whispered.

“Find your own, kiddo.”

“She’s not yours yet.”

“The important word in that sentence is yet,” Ian told him. He could so easily slip an imaginary collar around her neck and make the picture she presented entirely perfect. She smiled at someone just out of his sight.

A shot of jealousy raced through him at the simple fact she should smile that way at anyone but him. Ian raised an eyebrow at himself. It had been a long time since any woman had inspired that sort of instantly possessive reaction in him. In fact, it had been almost exactly eighteen months—which was precisely the last time he saw a submissive who looked damn near identical to this woman, in a kink club on the other side of town.

Billy said something off to his left.

“What?”

“I said,” Billy repeated with a long suffering sigh. “No, please don’t worry about me. Of course I don’t mind you dropping your younger brother to chase after some waitress…etc, etc.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ian said.

Billy shouted after him, something about which pub they were supposed to be meeting their friends and watching the match in. Ian couldn’t care less about rugby, right then. He was already pushing open the door and walking into the club.

The woman he’d seen through the window stood by the bar on the other side of the room. As Ian strode across to her, he took the opportunity to study her more closely. She was tall—tall enough that he wouldn’t get a crick in his neck every time he kissed her. That was rare enough for a man of his height to find in a lover. It also matched with his memory of the sub he’d seen playing on a St. Andrew’s cross all those months ago.

She turned and he caught a glimpse of her face.

He could always tell. He didn’t know if it was something in the eyes, or the expression, but Ian had proved it to himself time and time again over the years—he could always spot a natural submissive. Even if he wasn’t damn near sure she was the woman he’d spotted in the leather bar all those months ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated to mark the woman standing by the bar down as a true sub.

Closer to her, he turned his attention to checking for any sign of ownership. There wasn’t a single piece of jewellery visible on her body. No pretty gold necklace that could act as a subtle collar, no ring, no bracelet, not even an earring in sight.

Long blond hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, without so much as a hair clip to decorate it. The little, black, figure hugging dress was complimented by nothing more than simple black stilettos. The outfit was so simple, it was tantalisingly easy to imagine that she’d considered more intimate items of clothing just as unnecessary. Ian smiled to himself, wondering if he would have the chance to find out at some point.

“Perfect balance!” she declared as he reached her side. She lifted a folder and placed a mock kiss against the cover.

The younger waitress on the other side of the bar giggled.

“Finally! Thank you, Lord! They’ve finally coaxed enough women through the door. For once I won’t have to sit through a dozen different versions of…” Seeming to sense his presence, she looked over her shoulder. “Can I help you, sir?”

The honorific fell from her lips as if it was just any other word. As if she put a great deal of effort into making it sound as if she thought it was just any other word.

An experienced submissive then—she knew what that word could mean in the right context. It must be a special brand of torture for a woman who had offered that token of respect to someone who deserved it, to have to apply it to every idiot who walked through the door. The last of his doubts vanished. So this was where that sub he’d had his eye on had disappeared to…

She looked him up and down before lifting her eyes politely back to his. Her expression didn’t change, but her posture altered. She knew what he was too. She recognised a dominant man, a master, when she saw one.

“Miss?” He held out a hand.

“Susan Fisher,” she filled in, putting her hand in his. After the briefest possible moment, she tried to take it back.

Ian closed his fingers around her hand, not gripping hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough that she had little choice but to leave her hand in his or cause a scene by struggling to break contact.

He heard her breath catch in her throat. She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed. Ian studied her carefully. Her instinct to submission was right there, just a scratch below the surface. It had obviously been far too long since she played.

“Susan, is there a problem?”

Ian glanced over his shoulder and saw an older man approaching them. Employer. He spared him one more glance, a very swift up and down inspection. The kind of boss who liked to get to know his female members of staff very well indeed, if Ian was any judge.

“No problem, at all,” Ian said. “Miss Fisher was just explaining that she would be happy to sit in with me to balance out the numbers.”

Her fingers twitched in his grip, but her practiced smile didn’t falter.

“Excellent,” her boss cooed.

Ian waited until she met his eyes before he allowed her to retrieve her hand.

Susan’s boss lingered at her side. She had no choice other than to play nicely while he watched, but Ian could see the anger she barely kept in check. Susan Fisher was royally furious with him.

“If you’ll fill in the form, sir,” she said, coolly. “I’ll see to it that an extra table is set up in the other room.”

She handed him a piece of paper.

Ian’s lips twitched into a smile as she strode off, far faster than anyone should be able to walk in heels that high. When she’d moved out of sight, he turned his attention to the piece of paper in his hand. Speed dating? He held back a sigh. There really was no gain without pain.

He filled in the form and handed it to the waitress behind the bar. She was still studying him with blatant curiosity. That was good. No doubt the staff would have noticed if other dominant men were coming to the club with an eye to collaring Susan.

“Have you ever heard the expression—‘all’s fair’?” he asked her.

“And is it love or war you’ll get from Miss Fisher, sir?” she asked, a soft Irish lilt tinting each word.

He raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps both if I’m very lucky.”

Thanks for reading. The book is now available here :)

Kim Dare
Kink, love and a happy ending. Do you Dare?

Gay For Pay - Available Now!

Hi everyone,

My new M/M, BDSM short is out today. It’s part of the G-A-Y collection, but also stands entirely alone.

Here’s the blurb:

An experienced gay dominant, a gay for pay submissive and an auction. Let the bidding commence!

Nate Lockwood has a plan. It involves slipping away from his security officers, hitting a BDSM club, entering himself in a submissive auction and spending the next twenty four hours as a gay for pay rent boy. If he wishes he could be submitting to someone far closer to home, then at least he’s realistic enough to know it’s never going to happen.

Smith has a job to do. As chief of security for the Lockwood family, it’s his responsibility to track down his boss’s brat of a son and bring him home. The fact that his search leads to the kind of leather bar he considers beneath contempt is not important. The fact he’s been fantasising about being Nate’s master since he first set eyes on him isn’t relevant.

The plan has to work. The job has to be done. And the bidding starts now…

And here’s a quick extract:

Ben Smith scanned the crowd for a third time. Every light had been turned towards the stage at the far end of the club, leaving the audience in shadows. He nudged his way through the press of leather clad bodies, trying to pick out one face from the dozens surrounding him, to spot one head of blond hair in the gloomy light.

Smith looked down as he kicked against something. A submissive knelt ignored in the middle of the crowd, while the dominant holding his lead watched the action on the stage. Smith sighed and stepped around the submissive, pushing aside his desire to slap the so-called dominant around the back of the head and remind him to take better care of his property.

Right then, he had more important things to worry about than the fact there didn’t seem to be one good dominant in the building. Things like bringing his boss’s brat of a son to heel before he caused a scandal that would send his father into palpitations.

Smith muttered a curse. He was going to kill him. It was the only solution. He’d throttle Lockwood junior and be done with it—but not before he tracked down whatever idiot first suggested he go into the private security business when he left the police force, and throttled him too.

Nate Lockwood wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Smith bit out another curse. So much for reliable information. So much for ‘I saw him go into the club with my own eyes’. Smith added another name to the long list of people he’d like to grab hold of by the neck.

It was a relief to know Nate wasn’t part of the screwed up version of dominance that seemed to thrive in the club, but a larger part of Smith howled its protest at not knowing where the younger man was, at not knowing he was safe.

A microphone buzzed back into life as another submissive was shoved up onto the stage to take his place on the auction block.

“Oh, isn’t that sweet! He’s shy,” the auctioneer crowed.

Smith glanced at the stage. The submissive was wearing a half-mask. It didn’t extend far enough down his cheeks to stop his blush being visible, but it was still by far the largest article of clothing he wore.

A tiny leather posing pouch just about covered his cock. A collar marked him out as one of the submissives being auctioned off that night. Cuffs wrapped around his wrists and held his hands behind his back. But everywhere else was just bare skin.

“Let’s see what we’ve got.” The auctioneer consulted his notes and let out of harsh laugh. “This one is something special, gentlemen.”

Smith only half heard him. The mask was topped with a head of impossibly golden hair. The body on display beneath it was young and lean and horribly familiar—not with reality, but with what he’d always imagined Nate Lockwood might look like if he was wearing a few strips of leather rather than a suit that cost more than Smith made in a year.

No. Even Lockwood’s son and heir couldn’t be that big a fool. The only reason a man like Nate could end up on that block was as part of a hissy fit over some stupid argument with his father, and even he had to be smarter than that.

The auctioneer put a hand on the submissive’s shoulder. Smith’s hand clenched into a fist and the last of his doubts over Nate’s identity evaporated. There was only one man in the world who could raise that mixture of possessiveness and frustration inside him.

“It says blondie here is straight,” the auctioneer announced. “He’s gay for pay, gentlemen. And apparently desperate enough for the cash that he’ll set no limits on what you can do with him for the next twenty-four hours.”

Thanks for reading.

Gay For Pay is available here.

Kim Dare.
Kink, love and a happy ending. Do you Dare?

Imperial Topaz - Available Now!

Hi everyone,

My new novella, Imperial Topaz, is out today with Total-e-bound. It’s the second book in the collection, but it also stands alone.

Here’s the blurb:

Garrett knows there’s only one man who can guide a natural submissive like Lucy into a world of kinky clubs and kinky sex, and that man is not Shane.

Lucy doesn't have first date sex. That's why Shane is the perfect companion for her first venture onto the BDSM scene. He's a truly objectionable man, who she would never have sex with. Shane's a safe bet. But, if she went to a kinky club with someone like Garrett, all bets would be off. He's the dominant man of all her fantasies. Lucy knows she’d have to be stupid to go to somewhere like the Labyrinth with him. With Garrett anything could happen.

Garrett's watched Lucy for weeks, waiting for the perfect opportunity to show the natural submissive just how much fun submission can be. He knows Shane - and he knows how he treats women. When he overhears her accept a date from Shane, Garrett has no choice but to step in.

There is only one man Lucy’s going to the Labyrinth with and it's not Shane.

And here’s a quick excerpt:

By closing time, Lucy was very ready to go home. As she nudged lingering customers out, Garrett remained at his table engrossed in his laptop. Standing by the shop door, she looked across at him and wondered if she should ask him to leave right then, or if she should just enjoy looking at him for a little while first

Garrett glanced up. Lucy quickly turned her face away and pretended she hadn’t been staring at him.

“I’m half-way through a download and I don’t want to lose the connection. Do you mind if I stay here while you close up?”

Lucy turned her back on him to hide another sudden urge to blush. She flipped over the closed sign. “No problem.”

The shop was unnaturally quiet after the noise and bustle in there all day. Lucy closed her eyes and tried to focus on reality, but it was impossible to do that when one of her favourite fantasies started with exactly the same scenario. She closed her eyes, half way through wiping down the counter top.

An early closing. A silent room. The assumption no-one else was there. A noise behind her. A shocked gasp. Strong hands spinning her around. The hard edge of the counter against her spine. Her back arching painfully as he pinned her down. Her heart racing. Her breaths coming in pants.

“Submit.” Always just that one word. Always followed by one answering nod from her.

Garrett’s tie wrapped securely around her wrists. Her sensible waitress’s uniform torn away, ripped at the seams and flung into every corner of the room. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her. Adrenaline pounding through her veins. And through it all, the complete security of knowing there were no decisions left to make. She was his and—

Garrett’s chair squeaked on the tiles.

Lucy spun around.

“Just stretching my legs. I’ve been tied to this contraption all day,” he said, waving a hand toward his laptop.

Lucy sighed and cursed herself for an idiot while he strolled around the room.

“Bad day?” he asked.

“Some bad days spread around the room quickly,” she admitted. Shane’s temper hadn’t improved after the phone call.

“You noticed Shane throw his rattle out of his pram?” Garrett asked in mock surprise.

Lucy smiled. “He has to work Saturday night.”

“That’s your fault?” Garrett leaned against the wall nearby watching her wipe down a table. He didn’t crowd her the way a lot of the men who came into the coffee shop did, but she really wished he would.

She wondered if his body was as strong and muscular as it looked hidden behind office clothes. She wondered what his hands would really feel like if he wrapped them around her wrists and refused to let her go. She wondered what he would say if he knew she thought about him every time she masturbated.

Lucy cleared her throat. “Shane was just venting. We had plans for Saturday night so I was a convenient target.” She moved automatically to the next table.

Garrett strolled along beside her. “You’re dating Shane?”

Lucy quickly shook her head. “We were just going to go somewhere as friends.”

“Anywhere special?”

Lucy blushed. Talking about a kinky party with Shane was easy. Talking about it with her walking, talking fantasy was a different matter. She tried to think of something to say, but ended up staring at the table in silence.

“This Saturday?” Garrett appeared to work out a mental calendar. “The Labyrinth is this Saturday.”

“You know about that?” Lucy blurted out.

“Yes, I’ve got tickets.” He took two out of his shirt pocket. “But it’s not somewhere a man takes a woman he only wants to be friends with.”

“Shane said it would just be fun—nothing serious.”

“It’s a lot of fun. But not with a man you can’t trust, Lucy. Not with Shane.”

Thanks for reading.

If you want to know more, Imperial Topaz is available here.

Kim Dare.
Kink, love and a happy ending. Do you Dare?

Time To Do - Available Now!

Hi everyone,

My new M/M, BDSM novel – Time To Do is out today with Total-e-bound. It’s the third book in the Perfect Timing collection, but it’s only linked to the other books in the series by theme, so they can all be read in any order or as stand alone titles.

Here’s the blurb:

The words have sex with a man can change everything, especially when they’re written on a straight man’s to do list.

Rigby and Brennan have been best friends forever. Growing up and going away to university didn’t alter that. Brennan coming out of the closet to his straight best friend didn’t change anything either.

But when Brennan finds an old to do list mixed in with his friend’s possessions, and sees have sex with a man written right there at the top, it alters everything. When Brennan realises the man he’s in love with isn’t as straight as he’d always thought he was, their friendship changes beyond all recognition.

When the friends decide it’s time to start ticking off all the items on Rigby’s gay to do list, they soon realise nothing will ever be the same - for either of them.

And here’s a quick excerpt:

Brennan Talbot was not going to stare at his best friend’s arse. There was a line a gay man didn’t cross while sharing a room with his straight best friend. He was going to stay on the right side of that line even if it killed him.

Turning around, Brennan held back a sigh. If he could just keep Rigby from bending over all the time, his life would be a hell of a lot easier. His friend possessed a truly wonderful backside, not to mention a preference for very tight jeans.

Brennan picked up yet another of Rigby’s text books off the floor and placed it on his desk. “Where do you get all this stuff from anyway?” he asked.

Brennan risked a glance over his shoulder. At least his friend was standing up straight now.

Rigby shrugged. His shoulder muscles rippled under his t-shirt. He added another book to the growing pile on his desk. “It all just turns up somehow. Anyway, quit complaining. You’re the one who insisted we rediscover the floor today.”

Brennan looked around their room. Small patches of carpet were slowly starting to emerge between the layers of Rigby’s junk. “I go home for one weekend and a bomb explodes,” he muttered to himself. He doubted that Rigby was actually listening anyway. “You could at least have kept the debris on your side of the room.”

Rigby chuckled at the familiar complaint. The low deep sound filled the small room and made Brennan smile in spite of his annoyance.

“I was looking for my locker keys,” Rigby offered by way of explanation. “All the other stuff was in the way.”

“So you threw it on the floor?” Brennan asked, putting a folder of history notes on the desk.

“Well, I usually ask you where stuff is and you tell me. You weren’t here so I had to improvise. Are you studying The Fall of the Roman Empire?”

Brennan glanced at the book in Rigby’s hand. “Doesn’t really fit in with a Physics degree, does it?”

“Then I guess this one’s mine, too.” Rigby frowned at it and put it on the shelf above his desk. “I don’t suppose you want to take a break and get something to eat?”

Brennan looked at the containers of food his mother sent back to the university with him. It was tempting, but he knew if they stopped before the floor was clear, the room would remain in the same state until the end of term.

“No,” he said firmly. “Floor first, then food. I’ll even share the cake my Mum made if we finish it in the next hour.”

“That’s blackmail,” Rigby complained.

“I think you’ll find it’s bribery,” Brennan corrected absentmindedly. He picked another folder up off the floor and read the title scrawled across it in Rigby’s handwriting—stuff. Well, that was informative.

Brennan tossed it towards Rigby’s desk. As it landed, the edge of the cardboard folder collapsed. Papers snowed down to the floor. Kneeling on a rare patch of carpet to pick them up, Brennan skimmed over a few lines on the top page.

It wasn’t really snooping when the papers were spread out all over the carpet for anyone to read. Anyway, he’d known Rigby since they started nursery school. They didn’t have any secrets from each other. Or to be entirely accurate, Brennan corrected himself, Rigby didn’t have any secrets from him.

A glance identified it as some sort of to do list. Such a rare sign of organisation in Rigby’s life had to be worth investigating further. Brennan read point number one—get drunk, and grinned. That was more like the Rigby he knew. There was a decisive tick by that point.

When Brennan read point number two—go skinny dipping— there was no chance he’d stop reading. An image of Rigby bare arse naked flashed across his mind and dropped straight to his crotch. That particular image had been carefully constructed over several months of sideways glances, but it was far from up to date.

Brennan might know he’d never get more than friendship from Rigby, but he wasn’t prepared to lose that friendship by sneaking a peek at Rigby’s cock in the showers after rugby practise. Not when the possibility of passing off his actions as teenage curiosity, or an innocently heterosexual interest in making comparisons, died the day he told Rigby he was gay.

There wasn’t a tick next to skinny dipping. He wondered if it would it be considered morally wrong to convince a straight guy to go skinny dipping with him just so he could check him out. While he tried to work that out, Brennan’s eyes trailed down to the next item on Rigby’s to do list.

Have sex with a girl. Like he needed any extra proof Rigby was as straight as they come. It was very definitely ticked off. Rigby had happily worked his way through the female half of the university population since they’d arrived on campus. Brennan gave another mental sigh. Sometimes it took a hell of a lot of effort for him to pretend he was pleased for his friend about that.

He skipped through all the other ticked off points under the heading—each one representing one of the many and varied things Rigby wanted to do, and without exception had done, with girls.

Brennan went straight to point number four.

Have sex with a guy.

He blinked at the piece of paper. He read it again. He read it a third time, running his fingertip under the line of words, making sure there wasn’t any other explanation. Rigby’s spelling and his handwriting were terrible, but there weren’t any long words in the sentence for him to get wrong.

Guy.

Sex.

All the important points were certainly there.

Thanks for reading. If you want to find out more about Time To Do, it’s available here.

Kim Dare.
Kink, love and a happy ending. Do you Dare?

Available Now - In the Heat of the Moment

Hi everyone,

My new M/M, BDSM book – In the Heat of the Moment, has just been released by Total-e-bound as part of their Summer Seductions collection.

Here’s the blurb:

Shawn’s not a submissive and he doesn’t need to be rescued from doing exactly what he wants. Now all he has to do is find a way to make Brett believe it.

Twenty-one, naturally submissive and absolutely stunning, Shawn is obviously out of his depth at a hotel catering to serious dominants. As Shawn’s boss, Brett knows it’s his duty to step in and rescue the younger man - especially since he’s been keeping his eye on Shawn for months, waiting for just the right moment to make the younger man aware of his latent submissive desires. He’s not about to let Shawn fall into the hands of another dominant.

Shawn might have a huge crush on his boss, that but doesn’t mean the guy has a right to “rescue” him from doing exactly what he wants, or to warn every interested dominant away from him. Shawn might enjoy rough sex with dominant men, but he’s no submissive, and he can look after himself. He’s not about to forget that just because Brett makes him wonder if submitting to him could be different to submitting to any other man he’s ever met.

And here’s a quick excerpt:

“I thought you’d like the look of him. Rumour has it he’ll do anything you want. Really. . . anything.”

Brett Morton stared across the crowded dance floor. His friend was very wrong. The sight of Shawn Tate practically naked and wrapped around another man was not at all to his taste. Knowledge of the rumours already running around the hotel only made it worse.

It was always the bloody same. A beautiful new submissive walked into a place like this and all hell broke loose. Two minutes later, every dominant guy in a twenty-mile radius was boasting that he already knew him and had already screwed him.

Brett left his friend standing by the bar without a word. He strode across the dance floor, straight towards a young man he’d been quietly keeping his eye on for months.

Halfway there, he saw the man dancing with Shawn yell something to a friend standing a few yards away. The second guy grinned and shimmied between dancers to press up against Shawn’s back, sandwiching the smaller man between them.

Brett jostled his way past the crowding bodies. Every damned man on the floor seemed determined to prevent him from reaching the three dancers on the opposite edge of the dance floor. He finally arrived at their side, just in time to see Shawn look over his shoulder to smile at the man behind him.

As he turned back, Shawn’s eyes flashed towards him and opened very wide.

“Brett! What are you—?” He pushed against the bare chested man in front of him, but the guy just wrapped his arms more firmly around him. His grip on Shawn’s arse, where his low slung cut offs barely clung to his body, tightened. Ignoring all of Shawn’s efforts to push him away, he glowered at Brett.

“Who the hell are you?” he yelled over the thumping music.

“He’s my boss,” Shawn said, looking from the man in front of him to the man behind him and then back to Brett again. “I…”

Brett cast a pointed look at the hands still pressing against the first man’s chest.

“I believe he’s telling you to back off.”

“Fuck off, if you want to chase your secretary ‘round your desk, do it at work. We saw him first. If you want him—you can bloody well wait until we’re done.”

Brett didn’t miss the stress the man put on the word we. He looked from him to the other man, whose arms were also wrapped firmly around Shawn, staking a claim on the younger man’s body.

As he saw it, any man who went to a BDSM resort and purported to be a dominant should be able to back up that claim on his own. If he needed his friend to stand up for him, he really should have picked a different sort of lifestyle. Either that, or he should admit he was a submissive and just bloody well get on with it.

Brett reached between them and took hold of Shawn’s wrist. Each of the other men tightened his grip on him. Shawn twisted around to look at each of them in turn, obviously not at all in favour of being caught in the middle of a three-way mine’s-bigger-than-yours contest.

“Don’t be tiresome, children,” Brett told the younger men sandwiching Shawn. One let go of his prize to square off against him. The other immediately did the same so he could back up his friend. That was all Brett needed from them. He deftly manoeuvred Shawn from between them and put the smaller man behind him.

“Who the—?” one of the would be dominants began.

“Yes, yes, very interesting,” Brett said, letting boredom seep into every word as the music faded into a quieter but equally thumping rhythm. “Now, you can either have a temper tantrum in the middle of the dance floor—in which case you’ll be thrown out. Or you can just accept the fact that whatever you planned to do with Shawn isn’t going to happen—and find someone else to play with.”

“You’ll be chucked out too. Let’s see if you’re so bloody sure of yourself if we all take it outside.” He pushed at Brett’s chest. “You won’t be the one fu—”

He tried to shove Brett again. Brett only had a certain amount of patience to waste on a man like that. He caught the other guy’s wrist and simply twisted until he dropped to his knees with a yelp.

“Brett!” Shawn put his hand on his arm, trying to get his attention. “What are you…?”

Brett turned to the second man who was watching it all happen, wide eyed and apparently completely incapable of believing he really was being caught up in a real confrontation. “I suggest you take him up to the bar and ask the barman, very politely, for some ice to put on his wrist,” Brett told him as he released the first man’s arm.

The guy looked from Brett, to his friend and back again. He dragged his friend to his feet and backed away as if he expected Brett to suddenly launch himself after them at any second.

Brett watched them go, shaking his head at the state of men who were calling themselves dominants these days.

When he turned around, Shawn was also staring wide eyed at him—it was a far better look on him than it had been on the other men. Big blue eyes gazed at him through impossibly long lashes, his lips were slightly parted too, as if in invitation. He blinked at Brett as if he was completely out of it.

Thanks for reading. If you want to know more about it, In the Heat of the Moment, is available here.

Kim Dare.
Kink, love and a happy ending. Do you Dare?

Gay Like You - Available Now!

Hi everyone,

The second book in the G-A-Y Lust Bite series comes out today.

It's MM, BDSM erotic romance :)

Here's the blurb:


Cody’s more than happy to have sex, he may even be willing to offer his submission, but experience has taught him that’s as far as he can go as a gay man. Tristan disagrees…

Tristan has being gay all worked out rather nicely. His biggest problem with his sexuality is his mother’s persistent attempts to find a nice young man to marry him off to. And even that doesn’t seem like such a terrible thing when he arrives to have dinner with his parents and finds Cody sitting at the table.

Homosexuality isn’t working out quite so well for Cody. As far as he can see, Tristan’s appearance in his life is unlikely to make things any better. Nice guys rarely stay nice for long and dominants have a way of turning into complete psychos if he lets his guard down.

Cody needs to walk away before Tristan tempts him into wanting the sort of happiness he knows he can’t have. Tristan needs to stop him.

And here's a quick extract:

“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to do this anymore.” Tristan Fielding pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek as he whispered the words in her ear.

She stared up at him with such startled innocence, he could almost believe she didn’t have an ulterior motive for inviting an absolutely gorgeous man to have dinner with them. Since this was the sixth stunning man she’d introduced him to in as many weeks, Tristan no longer felt obliged to fall for the act.

“Tristan, dear,” she said, not the least affected by his attempt to appear disapproving. “This is Cody. He’s Mr. and Mrs. Sadler’s son. You remember them, don’t you?”

“Of course. Cody.” Tristan turned to face the man he’d been admiring out of the corner of his eye since he’d walked into the restaurant. “How are your parents?”

Cody offered him a slightly strained smile as they shook hands. “They’re fine, thank you.”

“I’m sure you two will get along famously,” Tristan’s mother said as she sat down. “You have lots in common.”

Cody’s gaze darted towards her. He offered a politely curious smile.

“Tristan’s gay, like you,” his mother announced.

Someone switched off the light behind Cody’s eyes. He dropped Tristan’s hand, as if he’d suddenly acquired some contagious disease.

Tristan gave a mental sigh. The saying was wrong. All the best ones were almost invariably straight. But the denial he expected didn’t come. Cody remained silent as they took their seats around the quiet table in the corner of the restaurant.

“Cody’s telling us about an award he just received for his art,” his mother said. “Why don’t you tell Tristan about it, dear?”

The younger man did a remarkable impression of a rabbit caught in the headlights. Tristan idly wondered if he was the only man on the planet who could make that panicked expression look appealing. Wide eyed, with his lips slightly parted as if he was offering them up to be tasted, he was glorious.

Finally Cody pulled himself together. “It’s nothing,” he murmured, pushing a hand through his hair, disordering the neatly combed style.

The gesture appeared more nervous than flirtatious. It still made Tristan imagine himself tangling his fingers in the thick blond strands as he held Cody still to be kissed.

“Now, that’s not true,” his mother cut in—completely derailing Tristan’s train of thought. “It was in the papers last week.”

Cody hesitated. “The Harman Legacy,” he finally said, very softly—as if he wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to hear what he had to say.

“The award is for art?” Tristan checked. “You’re an artist?”

Cody gave a jerky nod.

Tristan studied him carefully. He was probably just nervous. His family could be intimidating—especially when in hot pursuit of someone they thought ought to be set up with one of their own.

Doing his best to push aside thoughts of anything other than setting the other man at ease, Tristan tried to think of something Cody might be more comfortable talking about. It wasn’t easy to think at all, when Cody called to something inside him more strongly than any man he’d ever known.

“I haven’t seen you around for…” Tristan scrolled through his memories. He held a vague recollection of a pale, blond boy a few years younger than himself, but that was way back before he’d found out there were games more fun than football to be played with other boys.

Cody didn’t fill in the gap. If anything he withdrew further into his shell.

“Since we were children,” Tristan finished off, as he did the math. If Cody was the year or two younger than him that he remembered him being, he’d be twenty-three now.

The conversation, such as it was, died.

“The newspaper article didn’t mention if you had a boyfriend,” his mother said, never one to beat about the bush.

“No, I don’t,” Cody replied.

For the next half an hour his reserve and preference for one word answers continued to appear sweetly shy. As the evening wore on it became far harder for Tristan to see it as anything other than downright insulting.

Yes or no. That was it. The guy didn’t even ask anyone to pass the salt. Tristan found himself getting more annoyed with Cody as each attempt his parents made to coax the younger man out of his shell proved unsuccessful. He’d never known his mother to fail to take someone under her wing, but by the end of the meal, he was wondering if she’d met her match.

Cody’s expression stayed blank, but the strain was starting to show around the older lady’s eyes. Still, she rallied when they all stood up and began to make their way out of the restaurant.

“Tristan, dear, why don’t you walk Cody home? It will be a lovely stroll across the park at this time of day.”

“That’s really not necessary, Mrs. Fielding,” Cody began, no longer even attempting to hide his reluctance to be within several miles of Tristan. “I’m fine on my own.”

“Nonsense,” Tristan cut in. “The company will do you good.” It would certainly do Cody’s manners a world of good, to hear what Tristan intended to say to him en-route.

***End of excerpt***

Thanks for reading. If you want to know more about Cody and Tristan’s walk home, the book is available here.

Kim Dare.
Kink, love and a happy ending. Do you Dare?