“Landscapes is up for preorder!
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Those were the first words out of Alonso Darlington’s mouth. Even over the phone and calling from the safe distance of the Lake District (or at least I hoped he was) talking to the only vampire I’d had a close encounter with gave me a rise of goose bumps, and the sudden acceleration of my pulse was from more than knowing who and what he was. It was from knowing why he was, once again, unhappy with me.
My M/M novella, Landscapes, just went up for preorder, with a launch date set for 24th May. I have to admit I’m very excited about it, but I truly figured Alonso had forgotten about my sharing of his story and forgotten about me in general. Apparently vampires have long memories. He wasn’t happy when the novella was first published as a part of the fabulous M/M Boxed Set, Brit Boys: On Boys. I don’t know what made me think he’d be happy about me publishing it as a stand-alone.
“How’s Reese?” I asked, hoping to distract him. My voice came out a breathless squeak. “What about Talia? Tell her hi for me.” Talia was his friend and the resident succubus at High View, his remote, crumbling fortress in the Lakeland Fells, and even though she was at least as scary as he was, I sort of felt like she was my ally … kind of.
“Don’t try to change the subject Ms. Grace. You know I don’t like you splashing my private life all over your books for the whole world to read. I thought we’d come to an … understanding.”
The understanding was sort of that maybe he wouldn’t drain me dry or rip my throat out, maybe, if I went home and didn’t push the issue any further. But seriously, I was never really sure if I dreamed his invitation (more like demand) to visit him at his Lakeland home, or if the whole being all but held prisoner there for a weekend was just a fantasy. I mean Talia is a succubus, after all. Clearly I wasn’t dreaming this time though. Landscapes is up for pre-order and the vampire on the phone was not happy about it.
“It’s already done, Alonso, I can’t take it back.”
“And this woman… what is it you call her, Evil Publicist, Lucy Felthouse person, she helped you, did she not?”
I felt a chill. “Leave Lucy out of this. She’s only done what I’ve asked her to do.”
“Oh I like her,” he said. “She’s sexy and smart. Talia would like her too, I’m sure. I can imagine she’d be … very tasty.”
My pulse jumped into overtime. “Alonso, please, it’s only pre-orders, and yours is a great story, one that should be shared. Besides no one will ever find your place if you don’t want them too; you know that. Please, leave Lucy out of this. She was …”
The soft velvet of his laugh in my ear brought me up short. “Oh don’t you worry, Ms. Grace, Talia has threatened me with nightmares and Reese, he’s threatened to … well let’s just say, I don’t relish the absence of his … personal attentions, so your EP is safe. Thanks to you, my whole household is in rebellion against me, should I cause you problems, never mind the problems your Landscapes may cause me. However,” his voice turned cold enough to make me shiver, “if me or mine suffer even the slightest invasion of our privacy because of your little … expose, well let’s just say, I’m quite fond of a pint of A positive on occasion. You’ve been warned, my darling scribe.”
The device went dead, my knees went weak and I all but fell into the recliner by the door, phone white-knuckled in my hand. I’d just about managed to stop the shakes when my device pinged an incoming text, and my heart was off and racing again as I read it.
Good luck with the preorders of Landscapes my darling. Don’t worry about Alonso. He won’t harm you. If you like, I’m happy to help with your PR and marketing, though. Shall I give nightmares to anyone who doesn’t preorder Landscapes, or would it be better to give sexy dreams to those who do? Just kidding!
Preorder Landscapes Now (and get seriously sexy dreams FREE)
(Coming 24th May 2016)
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Alonso Darlington has a disturbing method of keeping landscaper, Reese Chambers, both safe from and oblivious to his dangerous lust for the man. But Reese isn’t easy to keep secrets from, and Alonso wants way more than to admire the man from afar. Can he risk a real relationship without risking Reese’s life?
Note: Landscapes has been previously released as part of the Brit Boys: On Boys boxed set.
The moonlight was bright and Reese’s night vision was good, but the path was rocky and steep. He stumbled and went down on his arse, catching himself on one elbow and cursing as the sensation of pins and needles shot up his arm. He forced his way to his feet slipping and sliding the last hundred meters on the dew-drenched stones. He was just about to call out, just about to shout Alonso’s name when the man moaned softly and Reese stopped in his tracks. Not only was Alonso no longer curled on his side, but the man was naked. He lay flat on his back, his knees bent, bare feet resting on the bench, one arm flung over his face, the other curved down low across his belly, his fisted hand moving up and down the length of his cock.
Reese froze, unable to move, unable to breathe. Alonso Darlington was beautiful, like no one he’d ever seen. His body was sculpted, not like polished marble, but with the ruggedness of the rocks of the fells, like he labored to be free from himself, like one of Michelangelo’s prisoners. The muscles of his belly tensed and relaxed and convulsed and relaxed again in response to his stroking. The movement of muscle beneath skin on his biceps and his forearms, on the rise and fall of his chest, on the tensing of the chorded muscles in his neck and throat as he swallowed was like a hypnotic dance. The muscles in his thighs twitched and bulged as he rocked and arched upward until Reese could see the clenched half-domes of his buttocks. He could smell the nutmeg and yeast scent of his heat, charged through with the crackle of ozone. He stood frozen on the spot, his own cock responding to the sensory overload, even as his brain demanded he give the man his privacy, demanded with a sense of half-frightened urgency that he leave as quietly as he could, but it was too late.
Alonso’s arm fell away from his face and Reese could feel the nearly physical press of his gaze.
I’m sorry,’ he managed around a tongue that felt too big for his mouth. ‘I saw you, and I thought that … I’ll go now,’ but even as he said it, Reese stepped forward, feeling reeled into the man like a fish on a line. Alonso eased himself up on one elbow, not taking his hand off his cock, not taking his eyes off Reese. ‘I should leave,’ Reese croaked, but instead he stepped nearer.
In a move that was not quite human in its grace, Alonso sat up and nodded to the bench next to him.
Cautiously Reese sat down struggling to keep his eyes off the man’s cock. He could still feel Alonso’s gaze on him as though he were the one who was naked. ‘I thought … When I saw you out here, lying on the bench at this hour … I was worried.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Reese, but there’s nothing wrong with me. My … afflictions, don’t trouble me much. I’m not ill. In truth, I’m the epitome of health. I’m just … different.’
‘I’m sorry. Of course you would be out after dark. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ll go now.’ But before he could stand, Alonso’s hand shot behind his head with lightning speed, fingers curling in Reese’s sleep-mussed hair, and in that instant of reaction, the second Reese gasped for his breath, the man’s mouth was on his, warm and hard and terrifying in its command, a command Reese could do little but respond to. Even as fear battled lust low in his belly, he parted his lips, opened his mouth, welcomed the search and conquest of Alonso’s tongue, his own the white flag that instinctively yielded all else beyond the breach, all territories beyond the invasion.